permission to be gay sir

The number one rule about Spock, Mr. or Otherwise, was not that he never asked for anything; he was an exemplary officer and did not shy away from making requests where appropriate, for this lab or that, for this leave or that. If he did, in fact, buck and arch like a feline spooked about the idea of having to broach topics concerning his personal self, which he kept wholly separate from his professional self as a rule and at all costs, it was not due to an overall penchant to ask for nothing and take just the same.

In plainer language, Spock was a reasonable individual who conducted himself with great merit according to human traditions aboard a starship staffed, crewed, manned primarily by humans. Admirably so. And, notice, how not-so-much-plainer that language in fact was.

Spock's colleagues, too, were the upright sort. They did make neither too many more nor too many less requests than him or he, the uptight Vulcan scientist, measurably. Both medical supplies and engineering materials were requisitioned at regular intervals, and those necessary irregular, by Dr. McCoy and Engineer Scott. They often submitted their notations in tandem, as well, striding up to the captain not with an over-orchestrated air but instead an accidental "ah, that's right, and you're right here with me" - this was, of course, an air Spock consistently thought to himself how dearly he wished to emulate, and one the McCoy-Scott contingent periodically thought to themselves (and spoke between) how annoyingly well he actually did it. Only aliens (xenoforms) of other races and planets not yet discovered who were born in ever-linked pairs somehow simultaneously wholly dependent and independent could come up with that grand a scale of synchronicity, and not get too far from canny about it.

Spock's one grand reservation, then, revealed itself: he would not over-posture himself to request other crew members' accompaniment on away missions, instead making do with asserting himself as the captain's aide when the command leader made to step onto the transporter pad without his first officer.

Scott and McCoy were self-admitious, and they laughed about it.

"You'd think he'd have some coy explanation about it drummed up by now. I've never seen a Vulcan shy away from contriving logic to do exactly what they please, and everything else besides."

"You'd also think that the captain would have done the same, seeing how he's skirted every other regulation around, particularly when Mr. Spock's concerned. But we haven't quite seen that, have we?"

So McCoy and Scott philosophized, postulated, and generally tittered on.

They gossipped gratuitously and at length, with their primary target and mode of affection always each other's mutual company, until one ship-day the transporter room came upon a hiccup, which seemed to take the form of Spock taking a stand.

It was some (intendedly) inconsequential bioanalysis mission, reportedly with large lifeforms of dubious sentience lying somewhere along the triangulated spectrum between plant, humanoid, and machine. Spock was meant to go, with Sulu and Chekov and one security, one yeoman. Kirk was not, instead directing his attention toward routine negotations with another planet in the system whose residents were attempting membership into the Federation. Routine, yet very possibly not, on both sides. And Spock was having a feeling about it, one way or the other. Sparing no time, to wit:

Spock cleared his throat, shuttered his eyes, and swallowed mightily. "Permission to be gay, sir."

Kirk regarded him with a lazy yet questioning, almost exploratory smile. "Permission granted, Mr. Spock."

Another swallow, and a glance down and to the side. "I need you."

To his credit, the captain did not laugh aloud. "Well, I know that, Spock, you'll have to be a little bit more specific."

Spock fidgeted. "I can't. Sir."

Now Jim smiled freely. "I know that too, Spock. All...ancillary permissions granted as well. Everyone else not traveling to the planet's surface, dismissed."

Scott-McCoy lingered (and one, to their joint credit, was allowed).

"As if you were waiting for permission. All considerations granted for maximum crew efficiency. Will I have to log a citation about that, Mr. Spock?"

"I-"

"No, no, you're right, the crew members in question should have to do it themselves."

All three subcommand officers stood at perilous angles, heels and toes not quite cooperating.

"I'm joking, misters?"

With a final shaky laugh, Mr. Scott replied, "Aye, sir, all along."