First Date

The doors to McCoy's quarters swished open. Without turning he grumbled, "Do you ever knock?"

"Knocking is irrelevant when the doors are formed from a titanium alloy …" Spock began.

"Knock it off you walking Encyclopedia Britannica, my point wasn't literal," McCoy huffed.

"Then you should endeavor for more accuracy …" the Vulcan replied with a serene expression.

"Haven't the two of you vexed me enough for one day?" McCoy interrupted again.

Jim responded with a light slap on his chief medical officer's back. "We're here for moral support." The Captain picked up the bottle of wine sitting on a nearby table and examined the label. "Nice. Personally, I'd start with a lighter choice, but I like the," with a grin he emphasized the next three words, "I mean business sentiment."

McCoy raised his hands and arms in the universal 'what are you taking about' gesture.

"I usually bring a white or rose for a first date. One that is light and fun. It communicates whimsy. A red is a bold, sultry choice. It telegraphs intimacy and confidence."

Snatching the bottle out of Kirk's hands McCoy replied, "My date prefers red, that is the only reason behind my selection."

Jim's sly grin returned. "Of course. I would never insinuate otherwise."

"Captain, I disagree, I believe you just did," Spock pointed out.

"My mama raised me right. First dates are hand holding and a chaste kiss." McCoy added with emphasis, "That. Is. All."

Spock nodded. "Your mama is an astute parent. Slowly, and always cultivating anticipation is sensible." He continued, "When tutoring me in the rhythms of human courting rituals my mother counseled 'if they get the milk on the first date why would they return to the barn?'"

"I'm the one from farm country and I never heard that one," Jim mused.

"Also, my father's people do not engage in kissing or touch prior to bonding. Then the three years' build up to Pon Farr and initial intercourse begins."

The Captain and Doctor turned in unison towards Spock.

McCoy raised an eyebrow.

Jim said, his voice hoarse, "That's extremely limiting." He asked in his usual tone, "What if you are not compatible … physically?"

"That is not considered of importance in a Vulcan marriage," Spock replied. "Extensive testing ensures there are no issues with the production of healthy offspring."

McCoy pursed his lips then quipped, "So at the end of your first date with Uhura you looked soulfully into her eyes, handed over your genome map, and said 'pencil me in for a kiss four years from tonight.'"

"Doctor, I am half Vulcan with a differing timetable for biological urges," Spock helpfully explained.

"Does the acronym TMI ring a bell?" McCoy shot back.

"Three years? You are celibate for three years?" Jim continued muttering.

Spock corrected. "After bonding. If not betrothed in childhood, consenting adults must wait two years before attempting a marriage bond."

McCoy's thumb gestured in Kirk's direction. "That math confounds our intrepid leader."

Shaking off disbelief Jim returned to the immediate subject, "How long Bones? How long has it been?"

"Excuse me?" McCoy replied with a scowl.

"Since you went on a date, jeez, I sleep with a couple of people here and there …" Jim started with a sweep of his arms.

Spock and McCoy exchanged knowing looks.

"… and I get a reputation," Jim finished.

"Oh. Awhile. Who has time?" McCoy grumped. "As CMO I get called to Medbay at all hours for treating the injuries from one of your frequent escapades."

"I rarely …" Kirk protested.

Spock's eyebrow shot up.

"OK. Here and there …"

McCoy glared at Jim.

Jim scuffed the tow of his boot on the carpet, and his voice grew softer, "Not often but sometimes …"

McCoy harrumphed; a ghost smile quickly crossed the Vulcan's lips.

The Captain switched to his command tone of voice in an attempt at dissuading further argument. "It is the inevitable consequence of needed risk."

"Agree to disagree … sir." McCoy rendered the honorific in a sardonic tone. He pulled on a dark olive colored sports jacket with slightly lighter pinstripes over his crisp white cotton button down shirt. Head cocked at his friends' curious expressions he said, "Go on. Let's get it over with."

"Hmmm?" Jim responded distractedly as he rubbed his chin.

"I believe the good doctor anticipates good-natured teasing regarding his not formal yet not casual attire," Spock explained.

Hand outstretched, McCoy slowly moved his arm from shoulder to waist. "Where I come from this is a first date outfit. My mama raised a gentleman; always be and look respectful, and never show up empty handed."

"You look good Bones." The more common grin supplanted Kirk's previous far away expression. "You clean up nice."

"I concur," Spock added in an approving tone.

Completely refocused Kirk, pretending to be serious, asked, "Alright young man, do you have pocket money?"

Spock joined in, "A communicator in case you require an escort home?"

"That's ride home," Jim amended. "It's okay to wait until you are older. Don't let the lieutenant pressure you into doing anything you don't want to do."

McCoy glanced skyward and muttered, "Heavens to Betsy."

"Or anything I wouldn't do," Jim added.

Spock turned to his commander. "I thought the purpose of setting boundaries was reining in undesired behavior not opening the field to the unlimited."

"I was making a joke," Jim pointed out. "You need to work on your sense of humor."

Spock countered with deadpan expression. "At times sir, I think it is not my humorous capacity in question but rather the lack of comedy in your statement."

"Now that is funny," McCoy said between chuckles.

"At times Spock, it feels like we have been married for years," Jim retorted.

"I believe all that remains Doctor is a reminder for you to be home by midnight," Spock said.

Jim nodded. "Yes, we will be waiting up. Right here. Drinking your good stuff."

Mumbling an uncomplimentary response McCoy left his quarters.

ooooo

My eyes swept the room for a final check that all was in readiness before answering the door chime. When the doors swished open, I smile appreciatively at Len. Out of medical blues, he looks taller and more handsome, the green in his hazel eyes accentuated by the color of his jacket.

"Hey," he says. His boyish smile is understated and charming.

"Hey," I answer.

"Am I late?"

"Your timing is perfect."