"It's nothing to worry about, Spock," McCoy assured, whispering gently. The Vulcan felt the heat of his partner's hand, as it passed over his shoulder.
"I am not worried," he responded, "I merely await the results."
"Right… You're not gonna be like this when Jim's parents come to see her, are you?"
Spock sat down before the fireplace and folded his hands.
"I assume not."
Doctor McCoy took the seat beside him, dragging it closer so both armrests touched. The conversation continued quietly, at Kirk's sharp and crooked gesture.
He held the baby, Constellation, and watched her drift in and out of her nap.
The speaker at the front door hummed, so Spock and McCoy went to attend it.
Sarek stepped in first, nodding twice at his son and once at the others.
"I see you are well," he said, in culmination.
Amanda followed him, rolling down the embellished, purple hood she wore.
"Spock," she said fondly, stepping closer. He accepted her embrace, leaning down to align their eyes.
Next, she moved to McCoy, rocking back on his heels.
You are worried, Spock presented. McCoy shook his head, once Amanda was buried against his shoulder.
Spock watched, amused, as his mother took the doctor's arm and walked to the center of the room. Beside the dining table, Jim had arranged Stella's bassinette, and set her carefully in it. She watched everything appear above her with wide, curious eyes.
"Oh, James, she looks so much like you," the woman decided, after greeting him, "She's darling."
"You can hold her, if you like," Kirk assured, "She's awake."
Amanda reached into the basket, tightened the swaddling blankets, and tucked the baby into her arm.
"I must tell you," she said, leaning closer to Kirk and McCoy, "that I never expected to have grandchildren."
Sarek agreed, and questioned Spock about the genetic studies which produced her.
"Constellation, isn't it?" Amanda proceeded, swaying gently.
"That's right," McCoy said.
"'Stella' for short," Kirk added.
"How fitting."
Briefly, she passed the child to Sarek. He held her with an overly steady sort of uncertainty, declaring her to have received the ideal distribution of her parents' features.
"The pointed, Vulcan ears are a dominant trait, I see," he observed, "Such data has never been compiled."
Amanda sighed at him, and remarked further about her beauty.
"If you ever need anything," she said, as they left that evening, "Just let me know, and I'll be here."
"Thank you," the three of them said at once, shrugging at the effects of their constant mental link.
…
When Kirk found his daughter that afternoon, after exchanging posts with Spock, she was sprawled out on the armchair with a pile of her favorite books. Many of the pages were soggy and frayed, only readable through the holograms projected on them when they were opened.
"Your Grandmother's coming to see you tonight," Kirk told Stella, as she glanced up from the projections, "Did Father tell you?"
She nodded and set the book down.
"She isn't Vulcan, at all," Stella declared.
"No," Kirk said, entertained by the sense of playful superiority he found within everyone with Vulcan blood, "She's human. Like Papa and I."
"Why is she coming here?"
After carefully rearranging the books, Kirk sat down in his recliner.
"She wants to see you. And we have a reception dinner tonight, at the Academy… Father and Papa."
"What about you?"
"I'm going, too."
Stella understood that she had not been invited; that morning, Spock explained that only instructors were attending, and permitted to bring their spouses.
"She's from Earth," Stella confirmed, "Grandmother is."
"Yes… from a different time, though, I imagine."
"What would she like to do?"
Kirk smiled down at his daughter, as she eagerly set her books on the mantelpiece. He explained some of his favorite Earth traditions, while they worked together to rearrange the furniture.
"Does this look like a tent?" Stella begged, casting a sheet over row of chairs.
Kirk adjusted it first, then nodded in confirmation.
"And you sleep in them?"
"For fun," he said, "But they used to be just the same as houses."
Then they adjusted the dials which fueled the fireplace. Kirk set a special recipe-tape before the synthesizer in the kitchen, and said Amanda would know what to do with it.
Stella watched her parents prepare for the evening, but took frequent glances at the tape and the tent. Amanda arrived early, greeting Stella with a hug and her 'boys' with compliments and well-wishes.
They expected to find Stella asleep when they arrived home, in the lingering hours of the night. Kirk walked in the center, with one arm around McCoy's waist and the other hand pressed into Spock's.
Amanda met them in the doorway, grinning and whispering.
She tossed her head toward the 'tent' in the common area. There, Stella slept beneath projected stars, glowing from the spine of the largest book.
"The s'mores were a big hit," she said, "She asked if I would be here in the morning, to make them for breakfast?"
"Will you be?" Kirk leaned toward her and laughed. McCoy tugged at the collar of his dress-uniform, to loosen it. Spock reached to rub his neck.
"I think I could manage that," Amanda smiled, stepping toward the campsite, "Don't worry about sleeping in, now."
Habit forced her to clasp fingers with each of them, before nudging them toward their bedroom. She slept there on the recliner, enjoying nostalgic dreams.