Dr. McCoy was just about to put a bite of food in his mouth when someone plopped down beside him and jarred his fork so that it skimmed his cheek. An irritated outburst was on his tongue, but quickly dissipated to nothingness when a pair of soft, feminine lips kissed away the mashed potatoes and gravy left streaked on his skin.

“Mmm…not bad!”

Chuckling, McCoy grabbed a napkin and finished wiping his face, bumping his dinner partner with his shoulder. “Someone’s in a mood.”

“A good one!” Uhura said, clapping her hands rapidly. “Guess what!”

McCoy glanced up at the ceiling and sighed. “Does it have to do with a Vulcan?”

“Len!”

“You got him to smile?”

She brightened. “I did, but that’s not what.”

He arched an eyebrow as he cut his chicken thigh. “That’s not it? I’m surprised he didn’t come in for a muscle relaxant after completing such a feat—”

“You’ve just got jokes for days, don’t you?” Uhura asked on a laugh.

“And light years, love,” he said with a wink.

McCoy shrugged and shook his head. “Darlin’, I have no earthly idea.”

She leaned into him. “He let me borrow his lute!”

This time he choked on his sweet tea. “He what?”

Uhura bounced up and down excitedly, a far, yet refreshing cry from the professional woman he’d see during his trips to the bridge. “His lute! I wasn’t expecting it at all, but he said I’d advanced enough in our lessons that I should practice more on my own time. Isn’t that amazing?”

“I’ll say,” McCoy said, clearing his throat as the Vulcan in question approached the table and sat directly across from him.

“Doctor,” Spock greeted with a short nod.

“Mr. Spock,” McCoy returned.

Spock’s nod to Uhura was far more gracious. “Lieutenant.”

“Good evening, Spock,” she said, her eyes still brimming with glee.

Spock raised an eyebrow and picked up his spoon full of tomato soup. McCoy blinked at his choice for dinner.

“Uh, Spock? That’s a very…erm…Terran meal.”

“Yes,” Spock said simply and slid the spoon in his mouth.

McCoy rolled his eyes, wondering why talking to the man felt like an old-timey root canal sometimes.

Luckily, Uhura kept things light by discussing all the tunes she wanted to practice on her loaned lute. Spock continued to eat quietly, but he gave her his undivided attention whenever he paused between sips of his soup. McCoy sat back in his seat, fascinated by the scene before him. To an outsider, their conversation could be deemed one-sided or even annoying with Uhura asking a stream of questions without pausing for Spock to answer any of them, but the Vulcan merely waited for natural breaks in her speech before explaining why one suggestion or another would or wouldn’t work. Spock’s expression was just as serious in façade as it was whenever he was on duty, but there was an odd, dare McCoy say it, warmth in eyes while regarding Uhura.

McCoy smiled a little to himself as the warmth immediately left when Lieutenant Riley sidled up next to Uhura and started recruiting her for a jam session in the rec room later that night. The young Riley put his chin on Uhura’s shoulder and batted his eyelashes at her, causing Uhura to giggle and touch a finger to his nose.

“We’ll see…”

“Oh, c’mon, Uhura, it’s not the same without you!”

Uhura glanced at Spock, who raised an eyebrow in return. “Can I?”

“You do not need my permission to participate in recreational activities, Uhura.”

“I mean, with your lute?”

“If you feel comfortable enough to display what you have learned in front of an audience, I will encourage you to do so.”

Riley’s eyes widened and he looked at Spock. “You let her use your lute?!”

Both McCoy and Spock rolled their eyes and Uhura frowned at them with slight rebuke. “Mr. Spock is teaching me how to play.”

Riley looked behind Uhura and caught McCoy’s eyes. Really?

McCoy shrugged and ate some mashed potatoes.

It wasn’t surprising Spock finished and left first. What did make McCoy almost choke on his green beans was the small grin Spock gave Uhura when she waved goodbye to him.

“Well, I’ll be…”

Uhura looked primly at him over her shoulder. “I’m going for a full-fledged one by the time the mission ends.”

McCoy laughed lightly and tweaked her chin. “Like I said, I have every confidence you’ll get it.”

After dinner, McCoy went back to sickbay to check his messages. It was a quiet night for once—no alien infestation or space sickness to worry about, so he decided to go to the rec room to listen to Uhura’s performance. He took a seat close to the open space that served as the “stage” but there was only Riley with his guitar and Uhura sitting on a stool next to him warming up her voice. Uhura caught his eyes and winked, and McCoy smiled back. He looked at her empty lap and raised an eyebrow, to which she shrugged minutely.

Soon, Riley actually started to play something, and Uhura’s angelic voice blended seamlessly with the guitar’s melody. McCoy was so entranced he practically jumped when he felt someone sit beside him.

“Understandable, Bones, understandable,” Kirk said, smirking at him even though his attention was riveted on Uhura and Riley.

“It’s much better to hear Uhura sing that damn ‘Kathleen’ song than Riley, huh?” McCoy asked on a soft snicker.

“Much,” Kirk agreed, taking a deep breath. “I was going to the bridge for a quick check when I heard rumor Uhura was performing.”

“DeSalle is capable on beta shift, Jim,” McCoy reminded him.

“Yes, which is why I’m down here instead of up there,” Kirk murmured, and McCoy knew he wouldn’t hear another word until after Uhura was done.

Kirk actually whistled when Uhura and Riley finished the song. Both performers blushed slightly and nodded even as Riley started another tune. McCoy stole a look at Kirk and couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked this relaxed.

“Clearly I need to order Riley and Uhura to perform for you once a week.”

“You can keep Riley,” Kirk said out the side of his mouth, and McCoy chuckled.

Uhura had a tendency to sing with her eyes closed, as if the music used her as an instrument instead of the other way around. She started to sing the classic “My Funny Valentine,” and it was so intimate McCoy had to clear his throat and look away, roaming his eyes around the rec room until they stopped by the entrance.

Spock stood there in familiar perfect posture and his hands behind his back. His jaw was more pronounced than usual and his eyes were deadlocked on Riley. There was a dangerous glint in them that half made McCoy get out of his chair and usher the young Lieutenant to sickbay. But McCoy wondered if Spock knew just about every male in the room, and some females, were staring at Uhura with such awe.

McCoy looked back at Riley, who was now hyper-focused on the guitar. McCoy watched the young man glance surreptitiously at the door way, his shoulders so tense and his body almost curling in on itself. Meanwhile Spock hadn’t relaxed very much, but his eyes had finally moved to Uhura. Her eyes were still closed and her hand was now over her heart. McCoy sat back in his chair, now more interested in watching Spock watch her than listening. The Vulcan pursed his lips and moved his hands from his back to clasp before him. As if feeling another pair of eyes on him, he shifted his attention and found McCoy’s gaze, raising an eyebrow at it.

McCoy raised both of his in response.

Spock shifted his eyes again to the front, and McCoy noticed he didn’t blink for a full half minute. When he turned his attention back to the front, he understood why.

Uhura was staring back at Spock as she ended the song. Riley still kept his eyes on his guitar, and Kirk had his own eyes closed and his head tipped back as if he were asleep, but McCoy knew he was not. There was a wistfulness to his face Kirk let very few see with even fewer opportunities to let those select few glimpse it. The fact he did so in a crowded rec room was a testament to Uhura’s talent.

When she finished this song, the applause was much more subdued, but one couldn’t follow a performance like that with exuberant cheers. One had to let it sink in and settle in order to appreciate the gift they’d just been granted.

And it was also because a certain Vulcan had moved toward the open performance space as if with a purpose. Riley wasted no time leaving his stool, and Spock sat upon it smoothly, as if Riley had been his opening act. He opened the case he’d been carrying and positioned the lute on his lap, playing a tune none of them recognized. Uhura smiled and nodded, humming along with the lute before starting to sing.

In Vulcan.

Kirk popped open one eye, then slid that eye over to McCoy. McCoy shrugged. Kirk slid the eye back to the performance and then opened the other one, sitting up straighter. It wasn’t that Spock had never played in the rec room before, and this wasn’t even the first time Uhura had sung with him. But there was something about this song that seemed…personal.

Maybe it was because Spock looked at her carefully, her mouth in particular, as if making sure she was pronouncing the words properly.

Or maybe because she was looking at Spock in return, as if needing the reassurance she wasn’t butchering his language.

Something told McCoy Uhura could’ve been intermixing Vulcan with Russian in a Deltan accent and Spock would’ve told her she’d been perfect. In fact, no one outside of those two knew what was being said, but everyone was still transfixed by the performance. When the final notes sounded through the room, Kirk led the applause. Spock stood and inclined his head, then handed Uhura the lute and melted into the audience, sitting beside Captain Kirk.

“So that’s what—”

“I believe Miss Uhura has another selection, Captain,” Spock commented, effectively shutting down the conversation.

“Okay, everyone, I’m a bit nervous about this—”

“Don’t be!” someone called, and someone else whooped with encouragement. Spock sank further in his chair and crossed his arms at his chest, sighing.

“Anxious for her to start, Spock?” Kirk asked.

“I will never understand human inclination to yell at a performance,” Spock said.

“It means we like her, Spock,” McCoy said. “You aren’t the only one.”

Spock slowly turned his head and arched an eyebrow. “Indeed.”

McCoy straightened his back and faced forward, uncomfortable with that one word coming from Spock.

Uhura was blushing and shaking her head. “Thank you so much, but don’t get excited yet! I’ve been practicing, but I won’t sound as lovely as our first officer just was, so bear with me.”

The audience clapped and cheered, making Uhura bend her head with shy gratitude. Taking a deep breath, she placed her fingers on the strings and started to play. McCoy immediately recognized the tune, and looked down at his own fingers, thinking suddenly of his grandmother.

She’d always loved Gershwin, and “Someone to Watch over Me” by Ella Fitzgerald had been one of her favorite songs. She’d even had one of those old mp3 players on which she’d listened to it, playing it throughout the house whenever he’d visited. Uhura’s voice had a clear, distinct quality reminiscent of Fitzgerald, and McCoy was surprised by the tears that pricked his eyes.

“All right, Bones?” Kirk asked quietly, squeezing his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said gruffly, clearing his throat. “Thinking of home.”

Kirk nodded. “Yeah…”

Her fingers stumbled on the strings slightly as she ended the song, but to McCoy, it only made her performance that much more beautiful. When she finished, he immediately stood and applauded, the rest of the audience following suit. He looked to his left and saw Spock had also stood and clapped, though not nearly with the same fervor as everyone else. As soon as Uhura left the performance area, Spock sat back down, his back straight as usual, watching her like a hawk.

“She won’t break your harp, Spock,” McCoy groused teasingly.

“I know.”

Kirk and McCoy shared a look. The captain just shook his head, clearly at a loss over what could possibly be going through the Vulcan’s mind. McCoy had a theory, especially after observing the way Spock’s body grew tighter every time a male crew member approached to offer his “job well done.” When Riley went to her and dipped her low, giving a long, wet kiss to her cheek, McCoy almost took a step back from the utter stillness the man emanated.

“Down, boy…” he muttered under his breath.

“‘Down’, Dr. McCoy?” Spock asked, tilting his head to the side.

Kirk looked at the ceiling most unhelpfully and McCoy decided to go full barrel. “People won’t be able to work efficiently if you stare them down like that.”

“And whom am I staring down? I am just observing,” Spock said, returning his attention to Uhura. There was still a small crowd around her, but she had room to replace the lute in its case. She accepted more hugs and kisses from her delighted audience before she was finally free. Her eyes danced across the room until they found Spock. The way they softened and glittered at the same time made McCoy find his fingers most fascinating once again.

“Am I…seeing what I’m seeing, Bones?”

“The beginning of a beautiful friendship,” McCoy said dryly.

“Heh. I suppose,” Kirk said, smiling widely when Uhura’s eyes grew round upon seeing him.

“Captain!”

Kirk grinned and approached her, taking one of her hands and kissing the back of it. “You sound more beautiful than a Hearsym lark.”

Uhura laughed and blushed. “Why, thank you, Captain, but I’m sure this lute could make anyone sound like a Hearsym lark.”

“I would not desire to test that theory, Miss Uhura,” Spock said, gently taking the case from her.

“Thank you so much for letting me borrow it, Spock,” she said softly.

Spock nodded, his other hand going behind his back.

“Well, darlin’, I feel I shouldn’t have gotten such a wonderful performance for free,” McCoy said, deliberately kissing both of her cheeks. He ignored his body slight fight-or-flight response upon feeling the Vulcan’s eyes on him. The way McCoy saw it, until there was an official declaration, everything was fair game.

And he’d “fairly” kick your ass if you ain’t careful, Doc! he told himself.

“You are so charming, Dr. McCoy,” Uhura said, grinning.

“Only because you force a man to charm,” he returned, winking at her.

“Are you ready to retire, Miss Uhura?” Spock asked with a slight bit of impatience McCoy knew wasn’t directed at her.

Uhura quickly put a hand over her yawning mouth, giving him a sheepish look. “It appears so.”

“I will escort you, then.”

Kirk and McCoy shared another look at the ease with which Uhura slid her arm through the crook of Spock’s elbow. Their carriage reminded McCoy of those ancient fairytales his mother used to tell, about the gallant prince and the beautiful princess. They were the subject of stares as they left, but they were both so engrossed in whatever they were discussing to notice.

Well, Uhura was, anyway.

“Isn’t that my job, as captain?” Kirk asked, slightly miffed and bewildered.

“Your job?”

“Escorting the fair lady to her quarters.”

McCoy laughed and slapped him on the back. “Jim, that may be, but not with that ‘fair lady’. She’s the sole charge of the first officer’s.”

Kirk raised a slow eyebrow and they left the rec room as well. “You don’t think they’re…?”

“No,” McCoy said quickly. “Because if they were, every single male crewmember who’d been in there would be dead.”

“You mean, unconscious, from the nerve pinch,” Kirk said, coughing slightly.

McCoy raised an eyebrow as Kirk entered the turbolift while he stayed in the corridor.

“No, Jim, I don’t.”