The Traitor's Tears

IV

Mac'hla was not exactly sure what to expect... Jim had described it as a casual dinner party. To Mac'hla that seemed to be a bit of an oxymoron. "Casual party".

What does one even wear to a human party?

They were not too fond of human clothing. It always looked too informal for their liking, however there were some articles of clothing that they fell in love with.

One such article being a floor length, light blue dress with long bishop sleeves and a high neck, adorned with white polka-dots and a brown belt around the waist.

They brushed their hair and pinned it back.

"I do hope this is presentable." They whispered to themselves as they slipped into a pair of flats.

She quietly strode down to the Captain's Cabin, a tad self conscious.

They knocked on the door and were quickly met by the Captain, a grin on his handsome face.

"Lieutenant! I knew you'd be the first to arrive, come on in!"

"I do hope it is not an inconvenience." she said shyly.

"Not at all. Come help me with dinner, will you?"

"Of course, sir." she said.

He handed them a knife and directed them to the cutting board, "You can cut up tomatoes, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good! Cut these for me and then pop them in the pot, alright?"

"Yes, sir."

Jim frowned a little, "Are you alright, Lieutenant? You seem awfully... quiet."

Mac'hla tilted their head, "Forgive me, Captain, but I do not talk much when I am not working."

"Alright," Kirk said and smiled, "Let's play a little game then."

Mac'hla paused their cutting, "A game, sir?"

"We've got some time to kill so let's play guess the planet."

"I have never played 'guess the planet'."

Jim pushed some diced onions into the pot, "It's easy. You describe a planet physically, I name it, and then vice versa!"

"Ah," Mac'hla said, smiling a little, "Manchuria class, red and green, natural satellite named Praxis."

Jim grinned, "Qo'noS. Alright, my turn. Manchuria class, considered a moon, blue with rings."

"Ah, that would be Andoria." Mac'hla answered, swiping the tomatoes into the pot, "Manchuria class, not federation, constant rain, population of over 78 billion."

"...Romulus?" he said unsurely.

"Ferenginar." Mac'hla corrected, a small triumphant smile on their lips.

"Damn," Kirk muttered, "I should have guessed that. Alright, point for you."

The two continued playing guess the planet for another half hour or so until the other guests began to arrive.

Kirk had somehow managed to get Mac'hla into a rare form and as Spock approached the door he heard playful banter from the inside.

"Oh my god!" Kirk complained, "It was your fault, the description was horrible!"

"75 percent water, orbits a dwarf star, 4.5 billion years old, one moon, an atmosphere composed of Nitrogen and Oxygen at a 3:1 radio. I do not think I could have been any more clear that it is your own planet!" she said, amused, "The score is ten-nil, Captain. Shall we continue?"

"I don't think my ego could handle it."

Spock knocked on the door and there was the sound of something heavy falling and Mac'hla stifling a laugh.

"Excited, are you?" they teased.

Jim answered the door looking a little disheveled, "Spock! Come in!"

Mac'hla buzzed around Jim's kitchen, cutting vegetables and shifting pots around the stove.

"Good evening, Mr. Spock." they said softly, calming themselves to an appropriate level for a vulcan.

"Good evening, Lieutenant." he greeted, "I am surprised to see you out of uniform."

Mac'hla looked down at their dress and apron, "I was told that this evening would be casual and so I believed it would be appropriate to dress human-casual."

Spock straightened his robe. "That is logical."

"You look nice." Mac'hla assured him, bending over to slip something into the oven. "I always appreciate traditional robes."

"Indeed."

"Come on, Spock, sit down." Jim said, pulling out a chair for Spock.

He sat and Jim poured him a cup of Zinfandel. Though Vulcans do not drink, it would only be logical to conform to human tradition when in the company of a human... Furthermore, Spock did not exactly hate wine.

Mac'hla took a small sip from their own glass and continued buzzing around.

Slowly, the rest of the guests began to trickle in until everyone was in the Captain's Cabin talking happily and helping prepare dinner.

"So, Maggie, what have you been working on in your lab? Y'know, during your midnight escapades." Doctor McCoy asked, taking out some dishes.

Mac'hla sighed, "Does everyone know about them?"

"You're not exactly quiet." Nurse Chapel laughed, "You fell while getting out of the cot every night."

"My joints were weak." Mac'hla defended, though they were quite amused.

"Which is why you shouldn't have left bed." McCoy grumbled, "But surely it must have been interesting if you were willing to ignore a Doctor's orders."

"I have been working with a highly invasive species and doing my best to keep it contained. It spreads and grows rapidly and its roots are strong enough to break concrete." They said, "It has already spread to many of my other plants and broken through a terracotta pot."

The room went silent for a moment as they all looked at her.

"...and what species is that?" McCoy asked, sounding a little nervous.

"Taraxacum. I believe its common name is 'dandelion'."

Kirk laughed, amused by Mac'hla's way of explaining. Leave it to a vulcan to make the most mundane thing sound terrifying.

"Dandelions? Why are you working with dandelions?" Chekov asked.

"Taraxacum possesses many healing properties. I am hoping to find a way to extract the chemicals and potentially create a medication to cure the common cold."

"Good luck with that, Maggie," Christine said, "Medical professionals have been trying to do that for hundreds of years to no avail."

"I endeavor to change that." Mac'hla said with a small smile.

"Dinners done!" Kirk announced, bringing plates to the table, "Everyone take a seat!"

The officers eagerly sat around the table and dove into the delicious meal.

"Is this your recipe, Captain?" Sulu asked.

"It's my mother's." Jim smiled, thinking back fondly of when his mother used to cook for him.

"Thank you for creating an alteration to allow us to enjoy it." Spock said, gesturing to Mac'hla and himself.

"I understand Vulcans don't eat meat, and it would be wrong of me to leave you two out." he said with a wink.

"I appreciate it, sir." Mac'hla said warmly.

The crew ate happily, carrying on pleasant conversation and enjoying the night.

Mac'hla felt oddly at ease. They struggled with social gatherings such as parties and the like, but this felt different.

They were surrounded by familiar people in a familiar setting, talking about familiar things. It was perfect.