The campfire crackled softly against the dark forest of Alpha Theta II. Above, a plethora of stars filled the sky.

McCoy, sporting a grey T-shirt, poked at the flames with a stick. "Y'know, this is exactly what I pictured when I joined Starfleet. Sitting on a rock, miles from civilization, eating burnt fish."

"Could be worse." Kirk grinned. He popped a piece of jerky into his mouth.

"It usually is." McCoy sighed.

Spock, who sat against a tree stump beside you, glanced up from his book. He looked almost human in his dark sweater and slacks. "The fish is not technically burnt."

You began to snicker along with Jim.

McCoy pulled the stick back, sending the two of you a glare. He stared at the Vulcan with a quirk in his lip. "It's black, Spock."

"It is charred." The other tilted his head. You swore you saw him smirk just slightly.

"That's another word for burnt!"

"There is a distinction."