Stella bounced happily into Daddy's office, where he was trading half-graded assignments with Father. She scooted up between them, waving her latest artistic creation.
Kirk squinted at it, before reaching for his glasses. He asked Stella to hold it 'just a bit' further away, while Spock watched with a quirked brow.
He stopped. The glasses slid down the bridge of his nose, but he did not reach to correct them. Instead, he took hold of the picture, meticulously outlined and carefully – although inaccurately – colored in.
"That's the Enterprise," Kirk mused, "Who taught you how to draw like that?"
She shrugged, giggled, and said there were about a dozen other, less accurate depictions. These were in her room and would not be displayed.
"I looked at the model on your shelf," she admitted.
"That's exactly where this one's going," he promised, as she handed him the page, "I'm gonna frame it and put it right in the middle."
…
Of course their marriage was celebrated on the Enterprise. The newest and most accurate model available, gladly rented and decorated by the respectable Captain Sulu. The former crew of the Enterprise was thrilled at the upcoming excuse for reunion, and helped design the ceremony.
Everyone arrived in dress uniform. Almost everyone left in joyous tears.
They blended Vulcan and Human customs; exchanging rings along with runes, and passing vows through their mental bond. This was facilitated by the Vulcan salute, allowing each to touch two fingers to one another.
Kirk, with a persistent smile, rearranged the entire apartment, the moment they entered it as husbands. The bedroom was reconfigured for Spock's fondness of the morning sun. The chairs were pressed closer to the fireplace. The shelves which housed Kirk's nautical artifacts were finally dusted, and refitted with their wedding gifts.
Uhura, so invested in language, had found a collection of verses from each of their birthplaces. Sulu pressed rose petals against the back covers. Chekov found them a set of nesting dolls, from his own homeland, and – nudging Kirk – said a fourth could be made to fit inside. Scotty provided a model of the Enterprise, which he rightfully claimed to have constructed from memory. Chapel offered to make their cake, ensuring it was safe for Vulcan consumption. They kept the figurines, which she and Uhura had painted, stored on the uppermost shelf.
"Oh," Jim had said, until the others looked at him. They sat in the chairs, signing the thank-you-cards Kirk insisted on printing.
"Hmm?" McCoy ventured.
"You don't think she can reach it, do you? I don't want her to knock anything over…"
"Let's worry about that after she's here."
…
Like her Father, Stella did not understand the fascination with birthdays. Daddy asked her what she wanted precisely fifteen times, while Papa's count was stuck at eight. Father asked once, because the others insisted. When Stella said 'you don't need to get me anything', he nodded and retired.
Despite this, she often overheard them discussing it, when she was supposedly asleep. She pressed her ear to the door of their bedroom, and breathed quietly.
Spock was always aware of her presence, but never redirected the conversation.
"No," McCoy said, every time Kirk even thought about mentioning an animal.
"You can only do dolls and books for so many years," he countered.
"She is fond of flowers," Spock suggested. Stella danced on her tiptoes, on the other side of the door.
"I'll keep that in mind," Kirk said. And he would, for years.
…
Her personal spacecraft was called Zinnia. She received it, and hugs from each parent, the moment she passed her flying tests.
Spock volunteered to fly with her, first.
…
Stella's crafting was always encouraged, especially by her Papa.
She once complained about not being able to braid anyone's hair, at which he laughed and presented her with a case of colored twine.
It took her less than a week to use all of the original thread, in perfecting her own styles. She was careful in selecting the colors for each of her parents, and danced nervously when giving their gifts.
Kirk smiled, of course, and promised to wear it every day. McCoy would, too, after she promised to tighten it, so it would not slip off during operations. Spock nodded, understanding the custom, and set it on the desk.
Stella tried to hide her pouting from him, but Kirk caught her on the way to her bedroom.
"He'll wear it," he assured, patting her back.
That evening, before the fireplace as usual, Kirk held one end of the bracelet while McCoy held the other. This was fastened gently around Spock's wrist, while they traded knowing smiles and tapped the base of his palm.
…
She understood the different kisses to give them, too. She got plenty of practice, when they met her in her room each night before bed.
Papa traded her warm kisses on the cheek. She would giggle, when his breath meandered toward her ear. She scrunched her shoulders up to meet it.
Daddy kissed her forehead, leaving her to reach the tip of his nose. On nights he remembered to wear his glasses, he would playfully swat her away and let her kiss his hand instead.
Spock offered his fingertips, and learned to smile when she took them.
"I hope she never outgrows that," Jim decided, when they were settled into their own bed and ritual. Each held the others' hands, until their bond lulled them to sleep with pleasant memories.