no time for romantic escape (when your fluffy heart is ready)

"You're commanding officer in my heart, Spock. Of my heart, I should say."

Jim's grin faded, communicating "well now I've gone and botched it" - of course he had, the imprecise, rounded human trying to cut his own faux-poetic corners on a perfect, perfectly composed Vulcan...

Spock...compensated. Zealously.

"Commanding? I do prefer executive, Jim. As you well know."

"Well, and that's how I like you best, too. Works out, doesn't it?"

With Jim's returning elation came a brow raise whose languid exercise of heartsick habit made Spock's side ache; such fondness, he knew, nearly always drove it.

"More than just."