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His collar chafed and Leonard scratched beneath it, silently annoyed although it probably showed well enough on his face. He hated the dress uniform, the high collar and stiff pants making him feel awkward, like a chimp dressed in finery for a laugh.
Diplomats and royals filled the room, conversations bouncing off the high ceiling and seeming even louder for it. He ground his teeth before taking a sip from the sparkling green drink in his hand. It was frizzy and bubbly, too sweet for his liking but there wasn’t a ton of options.
Brown eyes scanned the room, desperately searching for a familiar face that wasn’t already on the dance floor. He couldn’t dance worth a shit and he didn’t want to try to embarrass himself by jumping into that can of worms.
Jim had already disappeared, probably with someone beautiful on his arm, Leonard thought bitterly. He could make the effort to do the same but this was an important function, the result of numerous hours of discussion and arguing back and forth.
Star Fleet wanted this treaty, badly. Leonard wasn’t about to ruin it by accidentally pissing off some royal highness or whatever. Knowing his luck, he’d try to hit on the ruler’s daughter by mistake and get dragged off into the dungeons.
Taking another sip, he winced at the taste as he worked his way through the crowd. Spotting pointed ears, he hesitated.
Am I really that desperate? he thought with a scowl. Still, he wandered closer in order to hear the conversation better, expecting something science related about the particular biodiversity of their planet or whatnot. Something Spock-y.
“I’m afraid I must refuse.” Leonard overheard and he blinked with confusion. Although it was said politely, there was an edge of steel beneath the words.
“Oh come now! You can’t refuse a lovely lady’s invitation to dance! You simply must, Mr. Spock.”
Rolling his eyes, Leonard recognized the voice. Some high and mighty council leader, standing next to some wisp of a pretty thing, their colors almost blending together, both in the planet’s traditional white hair and grey skin. Shooting back his drink, he dropped it on a tray that floated by before stepping closer.
“Once again—”
“Spock!” Bones interrupted, a little too loudly. The council leader frowned at Leonard’s arrival but he ignored him. Spock stepped back just enough to allow Leonard into their little circle, which he was grateful for. Otherwise he’d have to weasel himself in, never a good look.
Still, it was easy to see how stiff Spock was, his posture always perfect of course but he looked like he had the stick up his ass even further up than usual.
“Doctor McCoy,” Spock greeted with a tilt of his head.
“Came to get you for our dance, you promised you know!”
Black eyebrows furrowed with confusion and Leonard cursed in his mind.
“I don’t—”
“Remember?" Leonard finished for him. "Well, you ought to stop drinkin’ so much darlin’, those drinks are something strong. Told you cut back, didn’t I? Now I get to say I told you so.” He put a hand on Spock’s forearm, ignoring his parade rest stance and began to tug him away. Luckily, Spock followed. Leonard knew if he wanted to, he could have planted his feet and it would be like moving a mountain. “Thanks so much for keepin’ him still,” Leonard shot over his shoulder to the two, the councilor looking murderous while the woman simply giggled with delight. “I appreciate it.”
“Leonard,” Spock said gravely as he led them to the edges of the dance floor. “What are you doing.”
It wasn’t a question, more of a demand. Leonard sighed. “Rescuing you, the least you could do is be grateful. Not that you’d know how to do that,” he muttered the last line under his breath.
They stood near chest to chest and Leonard tilted his head back to see into Spock’s face. The Vulcan was peering down at him with interest, dark eyes simmering with question. He licked his lips. “Come’re, we’re supposa be dancin’.”
“My issue was not with the dance, Leonard.” Spock finally relaxed from his stance, his body loosening just a tad as he opened his arms slightly.
Leonard rolled his eyes. “I know that,” he spat. “Here, put your hands at my waist.” One of Spock’s perfectly pucked eyebrows rose but he didn’t move. Or at least, if he meant to, he did it too slowly for Leonard’s tastes and he growled before grabbing one of Spock’s wrists (making sure he was only touching over his uniform sleeve).
“Like this,” he said leading the hand to his waist. Luckily the other followed and Leonard wound his hands around Spock’s neck, fingers interlacing. They stood there for a few seconds before Leonard tilted his body to the side, using his hands to tug Spock to follow.
Slowly they began to awkwardly shuffle together. Mild panic began to build in Leonard's stomach. Maybe this was an awful idea.
“Thank you,” Spock broke the quiet between them slowly. “This is much better.”
He couldn’t help himself, he snorted. “Better than doing what the rest are, you mean?” He shot a wilting look at the rest of the dance floor. Everywhere people were spinning, laughing, hands touching each other frequently. Leonard turned back just in time to see Spock do a micro grimace. The only reason he caught it at all was how long they’ve worked together.
“Indeed,” he agreed. Then he surprised Leonard by going on, “But not just that. That you felt compelled to… rescue me.”
A smile broke across his face, unbidden. “Oh yeah? A regular knight in shinin’ armor, that’s me.”
Spock never rolled his eyes but there was a certain expression, an uptick of his eyes that was nearly the same thing that always gave Leonard a thrill. “Perhaps we shouldn’t ruin this moment by continuing to talk.”
“Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” Leonard sneered, but he was still grinning, which lessoned the impact. Thankfully, Spock always gave as good as he got.
“I just think that—”
“Oh sure, you would—”
Their dancing got better, well not as much dancing as swaying together, but it was enough. And when Leonard leaned back to laugh, the familiar paths of bickering with Spock, he didn’t suppress the pleased feeling of seeing the corners of Spock’s mouth quirk up in a small smile of his own.