Disclaimer:  Star Trek is the property of Paramount/Viacom.  This story is copyright (c) 2006 by Mistress V.  Rated PG. 

 

Federation Day

Mistress V

 

"OK, ladies and gentlemen," Kirk said to the assembled staff.  "To re-cap, we will be picking up the Falosian delegation next week, and I don't need to remind anyone how particular they are.  The mineral samples that they bring will be crucial to the stop of the grain famine in this sector of the galaxy, and Mr. Spock will be analyzing these in-depth.  Dr. Chapel will be heading the medical team visit to Fuega for a one week stay after that, and Enterprise will then be transporting some scientists who have been visiting Ceres.  Remember, Ceres is an Organian colony, so don't be surprised at who might come aboard from there.  Any questions?  Good.

"And now, a reminder that the Federation Day Casino Night festivities are this Saturday evening, from 2100 hours, in the rec room.  It's the one day of the year that we, as officers, set an example of pitching in to help out, in an effort to encourage others to do the same.  The Federation Emergency Fund has been in use extensively in this sector lately, due to the famine, so it's the perfect opportunity for the crew to contribute to this worthy cause.  So, everyone, thank you for volunteering, and I'll expect you all to be there with your best 'happy face' on.  Besides, it'll be fun.  And thanks for doing your part."

The meeting adjourned and everyone hurried back to their work stations.  Spock caught a glimpse of Christine, deep in conversation with Dr. McCoy, as she left the room.  He could not help remembering her face, alight with pleasure just a few short hours ago.  No, that would not do, he told himself sternly.

"Captain?" he asked.

Kirk looked up from the report he was finishing.  "Yes, Spock?"

"Captain, my name is not on the volunteer roster for the Federation Day event."

Kirk looked at his First Officer with some surprise.  "But Spock, I wouldn't expect you to attend this event.  You never have before, and I respect your cultural traditions."

Spock relaxed just a tad.  "Nevertheless, Jim," he began, almost awkwardly, "as we begin our new mission, I feel it is important for the morale to be positive.  And my participation in the event will surely help foster that.  I am not as ... unyielding as I may have been in years past.  This will be an opportunity for that to be seen by the crew."

Although Kirk was, to put it, a bit stunned by this revelation, he remained outwardly cool.  "Well, Spock, how about you mind the bank with me?  That Vulcan mathematically-trained brain of yours can help out when it comes to cashing in those chips!"

"Agreed.  That seems a logical duty for me to engage in.  Is there anything else I should know?"

"It's a costume night, of course.  Riley slipped that one in, and I'll be sure to have Mr. Scott keep a special eye on him after he almost fried the entire electrical system a few weeks ago.  For some reason, he picked the decade of the 1980's, when the Federation was just starting to lay its foundations.  Of course, you don't--"

Spock stopped him.  "Have you any suggestions for a suitable character?"

Kirk thought a moment.  "Yes, Spock, as a matter of fact ... I do.  And you'd be perfect, I think!"

* * *

 

"What will you be doing on Saturday at the event?" Spock asked as he and Christine finished their meal in the mess hall.

There had been some curious stares for a few days, but these had died down as new gossip fodder was found.  The latest rumor was that a Klingon scientist would be joining the Enterprise at Ceres for a brief journey.  Not a half-Klingon, half-Terran like Kala the spa coordinator, but a real life, honest to gods Klingon.

"Tending bar with Pavel and Rourke, what else?" she replied with a laugh.  "At least I can keep an eye on the drunks.  If they've had too much, I can cut them off.  Doctor's orders and all that."

"Will you be representing someone from the decade?"

Christine flushed a bit.  "I'm going as Madonna, in all her 1985 glory," she admitted.  "But I promise to behave."

"There is no need to apologize, Christine," Spock said softly.  "I know she is one of your favored artists.  You sing her songs so well."

She flushed even redder.  "That's in the shower," she whispered.

The corner of Spock's mouth turned up, a sign she now knew to mean he was very amused.  "Vulcan ears are extremely sensitive, Doctor, surely you know that?  Besides, I shall be there to assist the Captain, so I can, as they say, be able to keep an eye on you."

"You what?" she gasped.  Spock at a social function?  The prospect floored her.

"Shall we continue this discussion later tonight, say, in my quarters after you are off duty?" was all he said.

* * *

 

"And you're going as who?" she asked again.  They had been watching some holovids of CSI, a show Spock had quickly come to appreciate, it being quite logical.

Spock remained impassively stubborn, one of Sarek's traits he had inherited.  "It shall be, as you Terrans are so fond of, a surprise."

"That's not fair, you know who I chose.  Let me guess, Mad Max?" she said with a pout.

"No."

She sighed.  "At any rate, I'm sure every eye will be on us.  I promise to stay at least 50 yards from you the entire evening."

Spock raised an eyebrow as he drew her against him.  "Why would you behave so illogically?  Are we not in a relationship?  Should we not be seen in each other's presence?"

"I thought ... you wanted it kept a ... secret, you know?"

"Why would I wish such an illogical occurrence?" Spock asked, perplexed.  "Are we not, as we agreed, a couple?"

"I presumed you wanted to keep it a secret.  You know how fast things can get off this ship.  What if your parents found out?"

He regarded her with amusement.  "And?" he said.

"You want to go public with this?" she pressed, a bit confused.

"It would be illogical not to do so, my love."  He smiled a very special smile that only she was permitted to see.  "You worry yourself far too much.  I love you.  I cannot say it plainer than that."

"We have to tell Jim, and Leonard, first," she said, almost to herself.

"Agreed.  But for now, shall we think of other pastimes?"  He took her hand and pulled her up into a standing position.

"What pastimes?"

His fingers brushed her lips, then her cheek.  "You shall be in my bed soon, T'hyla.  You know that.  But first, since the function on Saturday shall involve social interaction, perhaps we could dance for practice?  For I shall, as is the human courting practice, claim you for a dance during the course of the evening.  Of course, the song shall be my choice."

Her eyes almost popped from their sockets.  "Vulcans dance socially?" she finally asked.

"Indeed.  I am a diplomat's son, but can tell you that yes, Vulcans do dance on occasion.  You are so trained?"  His eyes held that beautiful teasing mischief she now knew so well.

"I am."

"Computer," Spock said, as he pulled her against him.

"There's a kind of hush ... all over the world tonight... All over the world tonight with lovers falling in love..."

And they danced.

* * *

 

"Well, at least that's over," Christine said as they left Kirk's quarters.  They had just finished telling the Captain they were officially 'seeing each other.' "Now for Leonard."

"5th deck," Spock told the turbolift.

Christine looked at him in puzzlement.  She was about to ask him why they were headed to his quarters when the link they were just beginning to forge kicked in.

*It is time for a ... midday repast.  Would you join me in my quarters?*

She stared at him for a moment.  *W-HAT?* she finally managed to stammer.

*The Captain has indicated we have waited overlong to begin our relationship, so is it not logical that we make up the lost time as quickly as possible?*

*You want to -- NOW?*

*Affirmative.  You do not?  I might be wrong, but you seem to be unusually aroused at the moment ... perhaps I was mistaken.*

Her hand caressed the front of his trousers possessively as she kissed him.  *Nope,* she replied.

* * *

 

"And everything seems in order, folks, so let's show the troops a good time."  Kirk gave the assembled staff a once over and moved towards the bar.

"Chris?  How bout a drink for me and your beau?" he asked, with a twinkle in his eye.

Christine smiled back, feeling Spock's unspoken approval of the outfit she had worn.  "What'll it be, boys?" she asked.  "And who are you?  Bacardi and Coke?"  She quickly and competently poured two ginger ale punches, on the rocks.  Kirk was dressed all in white, Spock in darkest black.

"Wrong decade, Doctor," Kirk laughed.  He turned to the Vulcan.  "Spock, you're missing something."

Spock pulled a pair of extremely fashionable sunglasses out of his blazer pocket and put them on.  They had been made popular by a renegade half-Romulan vocal artist, Romo, and were commonly called "Romu-Chop Specials."

Christine looked at them and realized at last who they were supposed to be.  "Crockett.  Tubbs.  Your drinks."

* * *

 

The evening was an unqualified success, Spock had to admit, as he looked around from the banker's table where he had been with Kirk most of the night.  The crew had shown up in record numbers.  Business at the gaming tables, being handled by McCoy, Sulu and Riley, was brisk, and the Federation fund would surely reap quite a profit.

He glanced over at the bar, where Christine was working with Lt. Rourke, the quartermaster, and Commander Chekov.  Business was booming there too.  In fact, she seemed to be dancing along to the music as she poured, what were they called, B-52's, for a group of revelers.  Her face was glowing with a smile.

"Black and orange stray cat, sittin' on a fence..."

The next time he managed a look, Christine and Lt. Rourke had just finished setting light to a line of drinks he would later learn were called "Comet's Tails" for some of the engineering crew.  Her hips swayed to the music.

"I -- love to feel the rain in the summertime ... I love to feel the rain on my face..."

The next hour was spent arguing with several poker players who had accused McCoy of 'holding out'.  Spock knew enough of poker to know it was not the most logical of games of chance, but the matter was finally rectified without the aid of security.

He looked over at the bar but could not find Christine.  To his relief, he saw her on the dance floor with Commander, Uhura, dancing to a medley of the songs of the artist she was dressed as.

"Get into the groove, you've got to prove yourself to me ... living in a material world, and I am a material girl ... last night I dreamed of San Pedro..."  Then the music slowed and she was claimed by Lt. Scott in what he knew to be merely a socially friendly dance, but the words whispered to him.  "What I'm dying to say is that I'm crazy for you, touch me once, and you know it's true ... I've never wanted anyone like this ... it's all brand new..."

He looked at the chronometer.  It was 01:30, the party would be ending soon.  Commander Uhura was at the dj station once again and he walked over to where she was and spoke to her for a moment.

Back at the bar, Christine regarded the drunken Lieutenant with a professional eye.  "Pulaski," she said in a motherly tone, "you're plastered.  I'm cutting you off.  If you want to get drunker, do it on your own, but you'd better not show up for duty under the influence, geddit?"

Pulaski attempted a salute.  "Yes'm," he slurred.  He turned to his companions.  "Let's go drink a bottle of jan-u-ine Polish vodka at my place!" he announced.

Chekov shook his head.  "Vodka was a Russian invention," he said.

"And Polish, Finnish, Estonian, Swedish, German, French and Andorian," Christine laughed.  "But I agree, pour me a lemon drop martini with Stoli lemon vodka, eh?  Looks like this night is about done."

The commander handed her the drink and gave a shot glass to Lt. Rourke, then raised his own shooter.  "To Federation Day!" he toasted.

"Okay, folks," Lt. Uhura's voice came over the PA system, "I'm afraid this is it for the Federation Day party.  Thanks for your support.  This will be the last dance."

Christine finished the remains of her martini and exhaled.  It had been a long night and her feet, in their lacy Madonna-inspired booties, were about killing her.  Plus, she smelled like a brewery from all the spilled alcohol.  All she could think of was a hot shower and bed.

"Doctor?"  She looked up to see Spock standing at the bar.  "I believe this is our dance?"  And he held out his hand.

She came out from behind the bar and moved with him onto the dance floor, which was crowded.  But she still felt like all eyes were upon them.  (Which they were!).  This was, after all, their formal declaration of couplehood.

"You know that tradition is if you dance the last dance with a woman, you must see her safely home," Christine said playfully as they took their place.

"Indeed?" Spock replied.

The song cued, and Spock enfolded her into a standard embrace, nothing outrageously romantic, but not a brother and sister hug, either.  They began to move effortlessly to the music.

"I hope you never lose your sense of wonder..  You get your fill to eat but never lose that hunger...  May you never take one single breath for granted...  God forbid love ever leave you empty-handed...  I hope you still feel small beside the ocean...  Whenever one door close, I hope one more opens...  Promise me you'll give fate a fighting chance...  And when you get the chance to sit it out or dance...  I hope you dance, I hope you dance..."

*What a wonderful song to dance to,* she said.

*I chose it, T'hyla.  Listen to the words and dance with me...*

"I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance...  Never settle for the path of least resistance...  Living might mean taking chances but they're worth taking...  Loving might be a mistake but it's worth making...  Don't let some hell bent heart leave you bitter...  When you come close to selling out, reconsider...  Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance...  And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance...  I hope you dance ... I hope you dance..."

As the song continued, Christine marveled at the prefect combination of words the song gave and how it applied just to them.  Spock was telling her he was ready to dance...ready to take the chance ... and enjoy life ... just as she was.

*I cherish, thee, my T'hyla,* he whispered to her as the song ended.

*And you, Spock ... thank you...*

And just like that, the evening was done.  Oh, and by the way, it looked like the First Officer and the ACMO might be, er, more than friends.  Next topic, please.  Did you hear that Kyle won 600 credits at blackjack?

"Shall I see you home, then, Doctor?" Spock asked.

"No, I'd rather go home with the First Officer," she replied.  "I have a thing for Vulcans, you know."

"That can be arranged," he told her.

* * *

 

They entered the turbolift and Christine let out a loud sigh as she leaned onto Spock's back, shoes in one hand, arms around his shoulders for support.

"What possessed me to wear these?" she grumbled to no one in particular.  "I cannot walk another step."

Spock looked at her with his half smile.  "You did look quite beautiful, Doctor," he replied.

"Easy for you to say ... hell for me, but men love women in high heels, it's a scientific fact!" she laughed as she leaned against his shoulders, enjoying the closeness.

"I cannot dispute scientific findings," he said.

The turbolift opened onto a deserted corridor.  Wordlessly, Spock reached down and hoisted Christine's legs in his arms, and began to walk towards his quarters with her resting on his back.

"What are you doing?" she asked, after the surprise wore off.

"You said you were too tired to walk any longer, Doctor," he answered logically, but he was smiling.

* * *

 

They were standing in his quarters, kissing and enjoying the intimacy that was still so new to them.

"The song was perfect," she said after awhile.  "And I loved dancing with you.  Of course, you do realize ... everyone will know by tomorrow.  I don't care, do you?"

Spock let his hands grasp her hips as he pulled her close.  He shook his head.  "It is logical that people will now know.  To worry would be illogical.  We cannot change what people think.  But I had selected a second song, one we could dance to in private.  It says everything, as the saying goes.  I did not want to cause undue speculation at the festivities, but ... shall we dance one last time for the evening?"

"I would be delighted, Spock."

"Computer..."

"To hear you speak my name, to see you search my eyes... to feel you touch my hand, it more than satisfies... If I was not the first, just say I'll be the last...  It's too much to expect, but not too much to ask...

“Now I can only dream of being all you need...  I can only try to be the reason why...  You think about today and forget about the past...  It's too much to expect but it doesn't hurt to ask...  It's too much to expect, but it's not too much to ask..."

The music ended but they kept on swaying in each other's arms.  And then she heard Spock say the words she thought he would never say to her.

"I love you, Christine."

FIN