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"Illogical my ass! Now, I'm right and you're wrong, Spock, and you know it!"
Jim picked up his drink, looking over to the other side of the rec room where his two best friends appeared to be having their usual evening 'discussion', complete with eye-rolls, eyebrows raised with malice aforethought, and fingers stabbed pointedly into chests. They looked to be having a fine time, in short, though from the looks of things the field might just go to Spock this time around, if Bones' agitation was anything to go by.
He smiled, deciding not to interrupt this time, and caught sight of Uhura sitting alone near the arguing pair, chin in hands, looking lost in thought. Grinning faintly, he made his way over to her and sat down at the table without so much as a by-your-leave. Sure enough, she came back to herself enough to stare coolly at him.
"Mind if I sit down?" he asked, innocently. Her chin tilted in warning for a second, then lowered as she smiled.
"It seems you're already seated, captain," she noted softly, in her musical voice, a faint smile lurking in the corner of her mouth.
He smiled, shrugging easily. "So I am. You don't mind, do you?"
Though the teasing was fun, he would leave if she asked him to. Not even Jim Kirk was fool enough to mess with Uhura, even if courtesy hadn't been enough of a reason in itself. But he needn't have worried. Her smile was rich and genuine.
"Not at all captain. Feel free." She smiled knowingly at him, and went back to her contemplation, her eyes drifting back ... to Spock and Bones, actually. Jim frowned, watching her, looking from her serene, smiling face to the two men. Spock chose that moment to make a quietly biting comment that, whatever it was, sent McCoy into incoherent splutters, unable to do more than poke his opponent repeatedly in lieu of speech. Uhura closed her eyes and smiled.
"Lieutenant?" he asked, softly, frowning in bemused curiosity. She opened her eyes to look at him. "If you don't mind my asking ... what are you doing?"
She raised an elegant eyebrow, transforming her expression from contemplation to wry, knowing delight, and Jim really needed to learn how to do that. Everyone on this ship seemed able to use their eyebrows like weapons, except for him. Spock, of course, was lethal, and just one incredulous twitch of Bones' was enough to break the most stubborn of patients, and now Uhura ... it really wasn't fair.
"I'm listening, captain," she answered, her voice bubbling with suppressed amusement. "To the music."
He frowned. "Music? What music?" And she laughed softly, dark and delighted, and waved gently towards his friends.
"Their music, captain. Can't you hear it? Listen. There's a melody ..."
He frowned, turning back to look at the two of them, listening to the argument, trying to hear whatever it was she was hearing. McCoy was in full voice, strident and soft, all growl and slow drawl breaking to sharp snaps of temper. Spock, by contrast, was almost too low to make out, a quiet current running underneath the other man, sly jabs in the gaps of Bones' tirade. Just their usual argument, really, the same one as always in everything except subject, and maybe if you tuned out the words that meant nothing ...
He stopped, catching it, feeling it, seeing what she meant. If you stopped listening to the words, ignored the supposed purpose of the discussion ... there was a flow to it, a beat, a melody, so familiar he could almost time the responses, could almost tell you exactly when it was time for one to fall back and the other pick up the flow. And they knew it, too, he realised. Both of them. Testing, teasing, timing themselves. It was like watching Sulu fence, Uhura sing. They knew the beat, the steps, the flow. They knew exactly what they were doing.
They were dancing. With each other. To a melody they both understood.
He turned, meeting Uhura's warm gaze once more, blinking a little at the warm smile on her face, the quiet understanding. She reached out and lifted his hand, held on with careful, gentle fingers while he stared at her. "You hear it, don't you?" she murmured, and he nodded mutely.
"I ... I do." He shrugged, sheepishly. "I ... can't believe I've missed it for so long."
She laughed a little at that, and once more, for a brief moment, Jim fell a little bit in love with her. It happened every so often. To everyone who met her, he thought. Uhura did that to a man. And to more than a few women, too. The warmth of her. The ... the melody.
"What's it called?" he asked, suddenly, and dipped his head as she blinked in confusion. "The melody, I mean. Their melody. It ... It seems like it should have a name."
She smiled, then, the kind of smile only a woman can give, the kind of smile Jim kept hoping that one day someone would mean for him, and him alone.
"Love, captain," she said softly, squeezing his hand gently. "It's called love."