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Although Spock originated among hot desert sands, duty carried him to distant worlds where snow and ice held sway. Vulcan grew cold at night, particularly in certain regions, yet generally lacked the ferocity which could be found elsewhere in the galaxy.
This was a frigid planet, the location of a conference which had required himself and his partners to remain upon the surface. Presently, the three of them were huddled together in bed, contributing to one another’s warmth.
“Gentlemen,” Spock said, sinking deeper under the blankets. “I believe it is logical for us to remain in bed for the remainder of the morning.”
McCoy laughed, wrapping an arm across him. Kirk smiled as he snuggled closer. “Is that so, Spock?”
“Indeed. Temperatures on this part of the planet do not rise until the early afternoon. That is also when the conference is scheduled to start. Therefore—”
“Therefore, we should have a lazy morning in bed.” McCoy laughed again. “Is that what you’re saying, Spock?”
“Not at all, Doctor.” Spock closed his eyes, content. “I am saying that we should have a logical morning in bed.”
Kirk and McCoy agreed, and the three of them snuggled close to enjoy the warmth.