"D'you need some help with that, Dad?"
Spock scowled. "I am perfectly capable of operating a camera," he replied.
"I would hope so, being an Admiral and a science officer and all."
Nyota smacked him on the hip, where her arm was wrapped around him. "Stop teasing your father," she said.
It was their first moment alone all day and they were posing in front of his new desk in his new office. Nyota had been beaming since the ceremony, every inch the proud mother. For himself, Spock could scarcely believe that his own quarter-Vulcan son had been elected to such high office without even muting even a bit of his mixed heritage. But then the boy had always been determined.
Nyota says he gets that from his father.
"We do have to keep moving," he said. "They have me on a pretty tight schedule."
Spock dropped the camera from his eye and gave his son a glare. "No schedule should be more important than spending time with your mother."
He immediately sobered. "No, sir," he said.
"Are you still messing with that?" Nyota asked, walking up to Spock. She quickly found the camera's stabilizer and turned it on.
Spock caught her eye, though why he was surprised that she'd worked out why he was stalling he wasn't sure; she always knew. She touched his still-quivering hand, softly, before returning to her son's side.
"All right, Dad?" the boy—no, not boy, man and elected leader—said to him.
"Yes, all is well now," Spock said.
"Of course," she said, and as they both smiled for the camera, they surprised Spock by giving the Vulcan salute, and the surge of pride that shot through Spock then made him very glad for his bit of technological assistance.