science_blues | Private Communication to Nurse Chapel, Non-Native

Current Mood: discontent
Current Location: Exterior, Spock1 Quarters, Enterprise

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Private Communication to Nurse Chapel, Non-Native

I am aware that my departure was abrupt following our most recent social interaction. It has come to my attention that this abruptness could be easily misconstrued, particularly considering the concurrent sociocultural faux-pas I committed.

I desire to have a conversation on the subject.

If necessary, I will preface the aforementioned conversation with an apology regarding the aforementioned sociocultural faux-pas.

Please inform me when/if you are available for such a conversation.

Spock.

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Christine smiled against Spock's skin. It was so...Spock. If the voice was just a little deeper, the chest beneath her head broader and flatter...

"Mocking you?" she repeated, and pulled back slightly to look at Spock, as if affronted. "Spock, I'm hurt."

She settled her head back against Spock, well aware that she was acting a little clingy, and that it wasn't just the cold. On some level, perhaps, she'd still been afraid that given the chance, Spock would make her excuses and leave right away. But Spock didn't seem to mind being hugged and petted, led around and undressed at Christine's whim.

"It is," she said in answer to Spock's question. "Do you like it?"

"It is acceptable," Spock replied. "That you are hurt is an assertion which in no way impacts the implication of your mockery."

Still, she was very comfortable.

Christine sighed sorrowfully. "You've caught me, Spock," she said. "I admit it. I was making fun of you."

Were Vulcans ticklish? She poked Spock's ribs, experimentally.

And glanced up at Spock. The expression in her eyes was clear. What are you going to do about it?

Spock was, at current, unaware if any other Vulcans were particularly sensitive to tickling. It did not come up frequently in conversation. She, however, was not. She arched a brow at Christine's challenging expression and returned the same glancing crush of fingers, dancing them across the human's exposed ribs.

Unfortunately for Christine, she was very ticklish. She doubled up almost as soon as Spock's fingers brushed across her ribs, all the air leaving her lungs in a sudden wheeze.

Spock raised an eyebrow and redoubled her efforts, and Christine blindly tried to grab the Vulcan's wrists and force her back.

"Stopstopstop," she gasped between her laughter, kicking futilely.

"Very well," Spock agreed and did as she requested. She leveled a look at Christine that could, very liberally, be defined as bemused. "It is not wise to instigate that which you cannot withstand," Spock chided evenly. "Though there is little cause for alarm."

She may or may not have tickled Christine intentionally as she withdrew her hands from the human's sides.

"Now you know my weakness," Christine complained good-naturedly, capturing Spock's hands in hers as she repositioned herself beside the Vulcan. Spock could break free easily, but at least it gave her the illusion of control. "I'll just have to work even harder to find yours." She gave Spock's hands an extra squeeze.

Spock shivered reflexively.

"I believe you are already aware of three," Spock returned evenly. "It is I who should be concerned of finding additional weaknesses."

Despite her point, Spock did not resist Christine's control of her hands. She had a considerable amount of time before she was required elsewhere.

"You are not, perhaps, susceptible to the color yellow? Or terminal, irradiated portions of your homeworld?" If Spock had not been Vulcan, she might not have been able to maintain an even expression.

Christine smiled and shook her head.

"Neither one, I'm afraid," she said. "Keep trying." With a reluctant sigh, she released Spock's hands and sat up. "I just realized I never had dinner. I can't imagine what distracted me." She looked at Spock. "Are you hungry?"

"It is earlier than my scheduled meal, but not sufficiently early to refuse dining with you," Spock replied and lingered in her reclined position as Christine moved off the bed and stood.

"As to what had distracted you," Spock continued, "I cannot speculate."

"Not even a guess, I'm sure," Christine said, walking to the replicator. "Excuse me, hypothesis." She paused, thinking, before punching in an order for two sandwiches. They could eat those easily enough on the bed, and not have to bother with utensils.

She brought the sandwiches back and offered one to Spock before rejoining her. "No cinnamon, I promise," she assured her, smiling.

Spock took the food from Christine and examined it slowly. It appeared to be vegetarian. Spock considered the food and a took pause. A finger food was...inappropriate, but they had just finished engaging in sexual intimacy. Certainly that was no more delicate--possibly, inappropriate--than devouring a finger-food in the presence of another.

Spock took a bite of the food. It would be even more inappropriate to discard proffered sustenance.

Christine relaxed next to Spock as she ate her sandwich, absentmindedly licking her fingers clean as she finished.

She glanced sidelong at Spock. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this happy and relaxed - certainly not since she'd arrived in this universe.

"Spock," she said, as the Vulcan finished eating. She brushed her fingers down Spock's arm affectionately. "Thank you."

Spock regarded the blonde and she finished her mildly inappropriate foodstuffs. She had, on several occasions, informed humans that the indulgence of thanks was illogical. They had, in all events, waved her comment off.

"If ever you desire my company," Spock replied evenly, bypassing the issue of thanks and logical progression, "You need merely to inform me."

"Thank you, Spock," Christine said, touched. "And the same to you, of course. I've very much enjoyed getting to know you."

She leaned over slightly to kiss Spock's cheek.

"I know it's early, but I'm exhausted," she said apologetically as she drew back. "I think I'll go to bed early. You're welcome to stay, but...I'm afraid it won't be very exciting."

"I shall have to decline the invitation," Spock replied and rose to gather her temporary uniform. "I have other tasks to which I must attend."

She dressed casually and regarded Christine before she moved toward the doorway.

"Live long and prosper, Christine," Spock offered evenly.

"Peace and long life, Spock."

The words were slightly slurred. Christine could feel her eyelids drooping already.

She snuggled in beneath her blankets, and let them fall shut.

There was an almost wistful smile on her face as she fell asleep.

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Private Communication to Nurse Chapel, Non-Native

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