The sight was enough to cause the patrons of the Woolly Rhino to take note and speculate among themselves.  Spock of Vulcan sat in a booth that was enclosed with extensive latticework.  An attached placard proudly announced that said lattice and all surrounding tables were genuine faux-wood.  Plants of similar pedigree attempted to block views and pretended to provide privacy.  The attempts failed, leaving the Vulcan visible and jarringly out of place in an establishment more accustomed to a more boisterous clientele.

The outlook wasn’t rosy for the Enterprise that day

The orders out put leave in doubt, the crew would miss their play.

But Kirk put on a noble front, the crew did just the same

And everybody waited on the outcome of the game.

            Spock looked at the human on his bed.   His pulse raced at the sight of golden skin.   So many times some version of this sight had intruded on his meditation.

            "Are you injured?"

            "Go to hell."

            "Could you not say that we are already in it?"

            Kirk's lips curled.   "Hell is where the heart is."