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“Jim you were aware that today was our deadline, correct?”
He looked up at Spock who was holding the padd he gave him just minutes before. Spock planned to take said padd and retire to his office for a few hours to make his own decision.
“I was totally aware.”
Spock rose an eyebrow and looked at the padd once more.
“There is only one name on this list. We agreed on a list, this is one name, I cannot consider this a list.”
Jim smiled, that tight-lipped smile that drove Spock up a wall because mostly Jim reserved it for the bridge where Spock couldn’t act on it. Right now in their quarters, Spock bent over hovering his face close to his t’hy’la.
“Captain.”
“Hear me out,” Jim inched forward, planting his lips on Spock’s.
“Listening.”
“I know name meanings are incredibly important to you. So before you say anything, after you meticulously nitpick at every possible convoluted reason NOT to pick my name and go with one of yours, I beg that you do some comprehensive research.”
Spock pulled away, once again looking at the single name written in the file. “Comprehensive research? Jim, I have never even come across this name. I do not know its origin.”
“I’ll give you a head start then. It’s from Earth. It’s Arabic. And it belonged to a person who nearly died because she was brave enough to speak against the status quo.”
Jim got out of his chair and held his hands out, inviting Spock to sit down at his desk. “You can sit here. Or I’ll even let you follow me to the bridge where you can research in the ready room. We’re rendezvousing with a few Federation Scouts shortly, so when I get back I want you to fully understand why I came to you with one name, and one name only.”
Spock did follow Jim up to the bridge. The entire journey he tried to remember if he heard any mention of the name in the past. He furrowed his brows when his own extensive mind catalogue came up empty.
“Don’t let it bother you too much,” Jim looked back. Even he was a bit thrown aloof seeing Spock so emotive out in public.
“Vulcans don’t get bothered, Jim.”
“Yeah, but You do.”
“Hush.”
The rendezvous was nothing special. The scouts gave The Enterprise a simple rundown of the space they were entering. Nothing in the way of too much excitement, but plenty to explore and map. It was all fine by Jim, he was over all of the near life-ending missions he’d been on in the past year. He could use some normalcy, and he welcomed it.
He was relaying coordinates to the navigator when Spock strolled out of the ready room, and hooked his arm around Jim’s, pulling the captain away from the helm and into the turbo lift in a swift motion.
Jim waited for the doors to close.
“You hate it.”
“I don-“
“You actually hate it.”
“I have reservations. I do not hate it.”
“You’re keeping an open mind?”
“Yes, and yet—“ Spock tilted his head, grabbing on to Jim’s arms. “You want to afflict such sadness on our child?”
Jim shook his head. “No, of course not. And that’s why I asked you to hear me out on this one. I know full well how much symbolism means to you because of your culture, and it means a lot in mine too. But you know what humans do as well?”
He grabbed Spock’s hand and squeezed it. “We reclaim things that were taken from us. So when you see sadness, I see strength against all odds.”
The doors to the turbo lift opened. Jim turned around, walking backwards, keeping his eyes on Spock. He wanted to see his thought process without missing anything.
“Besides Spock, you can’t deny our kiddo is gonna be the most bad ass moth-“
“Jim, please do not refer to our child as a bad ass motherfucker.”
Jim couldn’t contain his laughter as an ensign walked by trying not to react to the conversation they were overhearing.
“But I’m right!”
Spock sighed.
“You are.”
They didn’t discuss the matter further. Their schedules lately were far from normal. Jim had been working nights and Spock in the mornings, it just happened to be the way things operated for the time being. Then again, Jim was always busy with something. Nights were the only time he was available to be on the bridge.
Jim rolled into bed where Spock was actually sleeping soundly. He threw a leg and an arm around his t’hy’la taking in the hot skin beneath. Their minds quietly swirled together, calming each other’s anxieties of the day.
Spock’s consciousness stirred awake.
“Go back to sleep,” Jim whispered.
“Hmmmm…I must conclude the day’s conversation.”
“No, you need to go back to sleep.”
“Malala is a suitable name. Perhaps too suitable.”
Jim pressed his lips onto Spock’s shoulder. “Can’t wait.”