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"Say that again?" Doctor McCoy requested, eyebrow raised and leaning an ear toward the Vulcan.
"Would you teach me how to waltz, Doctor? That is, if you are available."
Was this some sort of joke? No, Spock never joked of course. He must have some blasted logical reason for coming into sickbay to ask for... dancing lessons of all things.
"Well, sure, I could teach you a thing or two. But, Spock, I never knew you had an interest in dance." The corners of his mouth perked up as he continued, "You know, dance is thought of as an expression- even an outlet- of emotion. Maybe it'll do you some good."
Spock's eyebrows knitted together somewhat, but he said nothing of McCoy's comment. "When would be a convenient time for you?"
"Well, I'll be off duty in about half an hour if you won't be busy by then."
"No, that will be acceptable. I believe we should conduct the lessons in an unoccupied recreation room."
So Spock wanted his privacy. Well, that made sense- and about the only thing that did.
"I will make sure one is available for us."
As he watched the retreating back, McCoy wondered just why Spock had asked him of all people. He was sure Jim knew how to dance the waltz- maybe not quite as well as himself, but that was bedside the point.
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McCoy had arrived to find Spock already in the otherwise abandoned rec room. He had moved the tables and chairs neatly up against the walls to make a clear space for their practice. There he stood in the middle of the room with hands clasped behind his back, waiting for instruction.
"Well, first of all," McCoy began, the automatic door sliding shut behind him, "you've got to loosen up. This is a dance, not an inquisition."
Spock brought his arms down to hang at his sides and inquired, "How do I 'loosen up,' as you put it?"
"Just- ...relax!" McCoy briefly asked himself if Vulcans even knew the meaning of the word. "Try rolling your shoulders a couple of times. Or wave your arms around," he suggested, somewhat exasperated.
Even through layers of Starfleet uniform, the doctor could see the movements of an attractive clavicle and let his eyes linger there for a moment longer after shoulders stopped. Naturally, Spock had chosen the former option.
"Well, I suppose that's a bit better." he conceded and placed himself directly in front of the other.
"Now, you put your right hand on your partner's waist," he gingerly held onto Spock's wrist to guide him. "And your other arm out for their hand- that's right."
As he brought his own left hand to rest on Spock's shoulder, McCoy remembered just how intimate dance could be. This should go especially for Vulcans, who did not seem to take to touching one another unnecessarily. While true that such a thing would be marginally different for a touch-telepathic race, McCoy still felt that they didn't know what they were missing out on.
He informed Spock of the movements he was to make which his partner (in this case McCoy himself) was to mirror. He absently wondered if he should have programmed some music into the computer as he murmured out the count of each beat.
"One two three; one two three."
Somehow, he was starting to feel silly about this whole thing despite the fact that he was the one in charge for once. Spock was proving to be an excellent pupil and caught on to the movements right away. By now he was gracefully guiding the doctor in a steady motion and McCoy was about to stop them when finally Spock spoke up.
"Doctor, may I ask how you learned to waltz?"
McCoy looked down at their still moving feet and chuckled. "Taught myself back in the day using instructional videos. I was trying to impress an older woman," he explained. "Hah, but I was young- too young for her. It was a bit like reaching for the moon."
"The moon?"
"Something you can see, but can't reach. Basically, she was out of my league."
"I do not understand, Doctor. If the moon were unreachable, you would indeed not be here. Earth man reached the moon in the year 1969, I believe-"
"It's just an expression, Spock."
"Then perhaps an out-dated one."
They stopped then and McCoy put his fists on his hips as he grinned up at Spock.
"Well, I think I've taught you well," he boasted. "You're ready for whoever it is you mean to impress."
But Spock didn't take the bait, he merely raised an eyebrow and thanked the good doctor for his assistance.
McCoy frowned a little, but replied all the same. "Any time."
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"You ready, Bones?"
McCoy tugged at the collar of his dress uniform uncomfortably. He hated these damn things and he let Jim know as much every time they were forced to wear them.
"Don't worry, you'll be out of them in no time," Jim assured, patting his back. McCoy raised his eyebrow at this, but Jim simply smiled and continued, "Oh, by the way... They're going to do a waltz for the opening ceremony." McCoy grunted in acknowledgement as he made a final adjustment to his top.
"And I, ah... told them I had a certain officer who would love to join them."
"Jim..." The warning in his tone did not escape Jim's notice, but whoever knew Captain James T. Kirk to back down easily?
"You'll be great."
"Jim."
"And it'll look good to have one of Starfleet's finest among the dancing delegates."
McCoy let out an aggravated sigh. This was going to be a more trying evening than he had previously thought.
"I can't believe you did this without my consent," he complained gruffly and rubbed his temples. "At least tell me who I'll be dancing with."
"Hmm," Jim turned around and pretended to examine his uniform in a nearby mirror. "It's a surprise."
"God damn it, Jim. This whole thing is a surprise! Why'd you-"
"Bones," his friend's hands were upon him again, grasping his shoulders reassuringly. "Just trust me."
McCoy rolled his eyes. "How many times am I gonna hear that for the rest of my life?"
Jim slapped him hard on the arm and if there was a slight bounce in his step as they made their way to the hangar deck, McCoy said nothing of it.
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The enormous dance hall was buzzing with the sounds of countless different alien dialects and it was starting to give McCoy a headache. The orchestra had finished seating themselves on the stage moments ago and the crowds had split to two sides of the room in anticipation of the opening ceremony.
When McCoy wasn't glaring angrily at Jim, he was squinting over at the other side of the room looking for his dance partner-to-be. They had yet to show up and for some reason (perhaps due to a cultural misunderstanding?) they had put McCoy with what would appear to be the more feminine half of the waltz group. He supposed that was for the best seeing as how he hadn't rehearsed for this at all or even asked to be here. His partner would lead and McCoy could spend more of his energy devising some way to get back at Jim.
He glanced again over to where his partner should be (really what was taking them so long?) only to see Spock. What was he doing over there? Maybe he wanted to speak to one of the dancers... but he didn't seem to be speaking to any of them.
As if he had felt the stare upon him, Spock turned to McCoy and their eyes met. The human gave him a questioning look, while Spock simply stared back with that all too familiar emotionless continence of his.
There was a loud tapping all of a sudden, coming from the stage. As the orchestra blossomed into song, the crowds quieted and turned their attention to the dance floor.
McCoy swallowed the surprised lump in his throat and began the walk toward his partner swiftly. Toward Spock. Meeting halfway, they bowed to one another as the other dancers did. Then Spock took his hand.
He made a silent vow to kill Jim when this was all over.
"Doctor, you should 'loosen up.' This is a dance, after all."
The man couldn't believe it. He was being told to loosen up by a pointed-eared tightwad who happened to be leading him in a waltz. Crazier things had happened to them, it was true. But he really never would have expected this.
"I can't believe Jim dragged you into this too," he grumbled out.
"The Captain? He did not drag me into anything."
"I didn't mean it literally-"
"I am aware."
It hit him so rapidly that McCoy nearly miss-stepped. He understood now; why Spock had asked him for the lesson.
And who he was trying to impress.
McCoy cleared his throat and offered his best smile to the Vulcan.
“If I knew you’d be dancing with me, I wouldn’t have taught you how to lead.”
"The Captain thought it would be best if it were to be... a 'surprise,'" Spock admitted.
"Do yourself a favor, Spock-" slanted eyebrows raised in attention, "-don't take courting advice from Jim Kirk."