Spock, standing a few feet inside the salon, did not approach her. Her one-sided smile and hooded eyes chastised him for the chase he'd put her through. She suspected they'd be alone when she sensed him. She was wrong - a full staff stood nearby in sparkling crisp hotel uniforms ready to cater to their every request.

Uhura picked out and purchased every item of clothing in Spock's closet. The dark grey tux he wore with black shirt and tie wasn't one of her picks, but she made a note to ensure it got back to the Enterprise in one piece - just in case she kicked his wandering ass before he changed out of it.

"I have followed the Captain's orders, Lieutenant. He ordered me to find creative ways to relieve the bridge crew's stress. This would, therefore, not be considered being a 'bad boy'."

"Don't play word games with me. We've all been trying to cover up this little escapade of yours to keep you commissioned in Starfleet. It's time to go home."

"As I am on medical leave for the next 20.413 Earth standard days, why would I leave such comfortable and relaxing surroundings now?"

Uhura's brain woke up and Spock knew it. Only two methods existed to get that data - access the personnel medical infobase or comm one of the bridge officers who attended Jim's meeting. Medical records had wicked security. McCoy would wipe those records if he caught Spock stealing them. If McCoy could catch Spock stealing them. If Spock hadn't hacked his med files, that left Chekov, Sulu or Jim as the source of the leak. She couldn't see that happening either.

Unless one of them helped Spock pull this off...

Spock considered Uhura's intellect an aphrodisiac. He noted the gradual increase in her pulse and respiration, perspiration slowly glistening on her exposed skin as she thought through Spock's revelation. His Nyota's beautiful eyes transitioned into partial slits, staring at him without blinking.

"How do you know you're on medical leave, Spock?"

A Spock smile played at the corners of his mouth. He had to be careful; Nyota Uhura had sufficient combat training to put him in traction for a week and he had other immediate plans for his body. His uncanny Vulcan reflexes would be of no help while her special scent slowed his processing. Spock needed to misdirect her attention.

"Have you eaten, Nyota?"

"You're evading, Spock."

"I am suggesting that I answer your very valid queries while we both satisfy our need for sustenance."

Uhura's stomach betrayed her by growling - loudly.

"You got me here under false pretenses. You lied, Spock. I'm supposed to be meeting an envoy."

For the first time in years Spock chuckled, reminding Nyota of his grandmother Lizzie Grayson in Seattle. Next, his mouth parted into a tooth-revealing, corner to corner smile.

Has he been in the cinnamon!? Uhura wondered.

By way of an explanation Spock reached into the interior breast pocket of his tuxedo jacket and removed a small synth-leather portfolio. Unfastening it he took a step towards her, only to have Uhura take an equal step backwards to avoid closer proximity to him. Extending his hand, he offered the document to her. Movement wafted her special scent his way; her smug grin displayed her satisfaction as his eyes half closed without his control.

Retaining eye-to-eye contact with him, Uhura took the proffered document. Her "You win" smile acknowledged the sophisticated game he was playing.

"Science Envoy to Vulcan and Aldebaran, huh? As I'm Chief of Protocol on the Enterprise how did this happen without my knowledge?"

"You were not Chief of Protocol when this occurred. I chose not to inform you of my assignment as I concluded the additional responsibilities might meet with your disapproval."

"Translation: you thought it might mean more time away from each other and you didn't want to piss me off and sleep on Jim's couch?"

"That is one interpretation.

Spock smoothly placed his hands in his pants pockets causing Uhura to bite her bottom lip as she fought her desire to jump him, tux be damned.

"As it is evident that I did not lie, will you now consider my invitation to dinner? Vulcan has "Preferred Nation" status within the Federation. I believe diplomatic protocols require an answer in the affirmative."

Damn! He'd outmaneuvered her, standing there dressed like a Vulcan rock star - looking sexy and creating heat and dampness where he would be paying expert attention very soon. Enough of her Starfleet officer thinking remained to remember her arrangement with Kirk.

"I need to comm Jim - I mean the Captain - and let him know I've -"

Spock's hand reaching again inside his jacket cut off her explanation. Deftly tapping PLAYBACK mode, he held his comm device where her acoustical talents would hear the recorded message.

"Uhura! I'm leaving this on your comm and Spock's. Spock comm'd me and explained his interpretation of my orders. We're good. You're both on emergency family leave until the Enterprise swings back to get you in about 3 weeks, maybe 4. I promise not to cause any interstellar conflicts if you promise not to break my first officer. Kirk out."

Author's Note: It ain't over because there's been a bar but there *hasn't* been a fight...