Kirk stood on the bridge, staring at the viewscreen, watching the stars pass by. He always thought it was a beautiful sight—he never tired of it. He remembered Iowa and smiled, unable to believe he was really here.
Uhura stepped onto the bridge. “Morning, Captain,” she said as she assumed her station.
“Morning, Lieutenant,” he replied. He made a mental calculation. Everyone was here, except—
As soon as he said the words, Spock appeared on the bridge.
“There you are! Good morning, Spock.”
Kirk noticed something different about the Vulcan. But he narrowed his eyes and decided not to ask. Not everybody else seemed to share his tact, though.
“Vat happened to your hand, Commander?” Chekov asked. There was a bright blue wrist guard wrapped around the commander’s left hand. Privately, Kirk was also curious. But he knew better than to ask about his commander’s personal life.
“I do not believe that is any of your business. In addition, I think your attention would be more useful if focused at your station,” came Spock’s crisp reply.
“Absolutely, sir. My apologies,” Chekov reddened. Kirk smiled and gently shook his head.
Uhura turned to him. “Captain, if you will excuse me, some people in communications are having some difficulty identifying a signal we’re picking up, and Engineering hasn’t fixed the communication line yet.
Kirk nodded. “Yes, of course.” She nodded back and exited the bridge. Spock smoothly transitioned into her seat and inserted the communicator piece into his ear. Kirk smiled at how easily he picked up where Uhura left off. They were such a good team, he thought.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chekov and Sulu whispering, and they walked over to Scotty. Kirk sighed internally. He saw them looking in Spock’s direction, and he quickly strode over to them.
“Captain!” Scotty said, clearly uneasy. “We’re talking about nothing!”
“It’s okay, Scotty.” Kirk smiled at him. “What’re you discussing?”
They all looked at each other.
“Ve’re vondering how ze Commander sprained his wrist,” Chekov said, almost apologetically. “He didn’t say how it happened, which really can only mean one thing: he did it doing zomething he vas embarrassed by.”
“Like smiling,” Sulu added, grinning. “But—” he glanced furtively back at the Vulcan, “—how do you sprain your wrist smiling?”
“I was thinking a sports injury,” Scotty revealed. “At the Academy, I sprained my wrist playing field hockey.”
“What, like men’s field hockey?” Sulu asked, incredulous.
“Yes!” Scotty whispered. “It’s extremely violent, much more so than the lass’ version. We’re not allowed to wear anything that protects our breasts.”
“Excuse me,” Spock’s voice rang out sharply. Kirk, Chekov, Sulu, and Scotty all slowly turned towards him.
“I can hear you speculating about the nature and origin of my injury from across the bridge. I will tell you, I tripped over another officer, who had also tripped, causing me to fall and injure myself. I did not think it was relevant to your duties. Which you should all be doing, in any case.”
Chekov and Sulu guiltily went back to their stations, and Kirk nodded his apology to the Vulcan. Much to his surprise, Spock walked over to him, holding his PADD.
“Captain, a word in the turbolift?”
“Sure.” They walked in and Spock hit the button for the fifth floor. He then stopped the lift and turned to him.
“Do you want to know how I really sprained my wrist?”
Kirk smiled, a little hesitantly. “Sure,” he shrugged. He thought he saw mischief in the Vulcan’s eyes. But he blinked and the emotion was gone, leaving his commander’s brown eyes flat.
“I was hula hooping.”
Kirk’s eyes widened. Out of all the answers the commander could have given, he didn’t expect that one.
“Lieutenant Uhura and I hula hoop for fitness, and for entertainment.” He pulled up some photos on his PADD.
“Oh my god,” Kirk breathed.
“I have mastered all the moves.” Spock started flipping through the album. “The pizza toss, the tornado, the scorpion, the oopsie-doodle…”
Kirk started smiling so hard, laughter on his lips. “Why are you telling me this?” The Vulcan looked at him, and the glint of mischief was back.
“Because no one—” Spock said, “—will ever believe you.”
Kirk watched as the Vulcan proceeded to delete the photo album off his personal PADD.
“You…” Kirk started. He looked back at the Vulcan, who raised a single eyebrow. He hit a button, and the lift headed back to the bridge. The Vulcan stepped out and immediately headed back to his station.
“You sick son of a bitch,” Kirk whispered, knowing full well he could hear him with his Vulcan hearing.
Spock just turned to him, his face the very picture of innocence. “Me, Captain?”