Summary: When Chapel is injured, Spock must try an unusual method to communicate with aliens.
Notes: Written for Shadaras
"I do not understand." There was a small frown on Spock's face as he watched the dancers. There were five of them, blue skinned and elegant, with their flowing white clothes billowing around them as they span.
"I think this is how they communicate." Christine shifted slightly to get a better look, wincing as her broken leg moved slightly. Spock had bound it using sticks and strips of his shirt, under her instruction, but it wasn't as good as using the bone knitter in her medical kit. But they'd lost all of their equipment and this would have to do for now. "You should dance too."
Spock's eyes widened fractionally. "I don't know how."
She grinned. "Don't Vulcans dance?" Although she didn't wait for an answer before continuing, "Just copy what they're doing. All we need is to get a message to the ship." Their communicators hadn't fared well in the accident either. Spock was the only thing still in one piece.
"I don't have enough arms," he protested.
Certain he would carry on finding excuses, she prodded him until he stood up. He took a few steps away from her, and the dancers stopped their spin, ending facing him.
They put a foot to the side, and Spock gingerly mirrored them. They did the same with an arm, which he also did. He couldn't copy them when they put the second arm on the left out, but he did when they repeated the moves on the other side.
He looked so uncomfortable that it made his movements jerky. She had to put a hand to her mouth to keep from laughing. If he even saw her smile he might stop, and then they'd be in trouble.
As the dancers began repeating the move, he glanced over at her. She motioned for him to continue. "You're doing well, Spock." Any encouragement had to help, she was sure.
He copied them again, and then they repeated the moves, but faster. After a couple of iterations he was too busy concentrating on which limb to move to think about how he looked. Which meant that he stopped looking silly. He still wasn't as graceful as the aliens were, but he was improving. And keeping in time.
The dancing gradually become more complicated, adding stepping, spins and moving multiple limbs at the same time. But always in a pattern and building on the previous moves. It was, Christine thought, probably the best way to teach dancing to a Vulcan.
And in no way was she watching the way his muscles moved on his bare chest.
After a few minutes he was breathing heavily, but he had good balance as they finished, holding their final position on one leg for a few seconds. Then the aliens rushed over, stroking his arms, which he allowed, although he held himself stiffly.
Then they spotted her. And her broken leg. One of them knelt down to stroke her arm, while the others ran off.
She and Spock exchanged a look. But after a moment they were back again, with a litter. They gently lifted her onto it, one of them supporting her leg to prevent it from moving. Then they started walking. Spock caught up to the aliens in the lead and pointed over at their transmitter tower. They changed direction to head to it.
Christine was certain Spock could find a way to use it to communicate with the Enterprise. "Good job, Spock," she said, smiling at him. "I'll be sure to mention your diplomatic skills to the captain." She grinned, ignoring his expression.