Chapter One
I was beginning to realize that very few things in my life seemed logical, or even vaguely sensible.
Like the fact that a few of my favorite things were dancing in the rain, playing frisbee and chatting with my room mate way past midnight about whatever boy had lately taken our fancy. The very boys that took my fancy were entirely illogical choices.
Or the fact that I studied science at Starfleet when I had in fact not been particularly good at it in school. The logical choice would have been to choose to study what I excelled at at university. Everyone thought I was an amazing artist, but whenever they said that I should become a designer, I very firmly told them that it was the last thing on earth I wanted to do. Highly illogical, I know.
Then there was also the fact that I wanted to go into Starfleet at all when I had never been in space, my family had lived on Earth for generations upon generations, and was deeply rooted in upholding European traditions and ways of life, and I in particular was a specialist on Earth cultures that could rival most anthropologists and ambassadors, having learnt it from my mother who was considered the most knowledgeable Earth anthropologist. It seemed logical that with such a background, I should remain on earth since it was here I had my roots, history, life and family.
In fact the very fact that I was in this logics class was illogical since it didn't have anything to do with my course.
The person to make me aware of these highly illogical things in my life was none other than Spock. Trust it to be a vulcan to point out how devoid of logic I am.
You know I actually thought I was quite a logical person before I met Spock. All those choices made sense in my head. But I guess the majority of the things in my life were either by chance, on impulse, or by choice made on personal interest or preference rather then on rational thought.
And you know, since Spock is such a logical person, there was a logical reason to him telling me just how illogical I was. And I'll tell you why. Its because I was idiot enough open my smart mouth during one of his lectures. Because I dared to think that I knew anything about logic.
Because I put up my hand in class and suggested that logic might have a different definition from culture to culture. You know, standard answer from a girl who grew up with an anthropologist specializing in Earth cultures as a mother, and a historian for a father. But no, according to Spock, logic is logic, and in fact, let me demonstrate what logic is by pointing out how logical I am, and you aren't. You may think all those things in your life are logical, but in fact, they are not.
All hail the almighty Spock, holder of all knowledge, intellect and above all logic. Listen children, and he will tell you just how illogical and irrational humans are, and how you such implement logic and control into every minute of your day. Don't you even dare dream anything but logical dreams!
Okay so I might be more than a little bit bitter, but he didn't need to berate me in front of the entire class and inform everyone how illogical I am. Who cares about logic anyway! I most certainly don't any more. Maybe I'll drop the dumb logic class. Except than I won't have enough credit to pass the year. Damn Spock. Damn Vulcan's and their superiority complex.
By now I had reached the door to my room, and slammed it open, storming in like a raging bull. I felt like one to. My room mate, Cathy looked up startled.
"Brenda, what on earth are you doing back?" She asked, visibly startled.
I threw my hands up in the air. "Its that dumb vulcan teacher, thinks he's so high and mighty and all that!" I ranted, pacing up and down the floor in our small room.
"Oh really, that's nice honey."
I stopped pacing, and stared suspiciously at Cathy, who looked back at me innocently, twirling a lock of her long brown hair around one of her long slender fingers. She was wearing a pair of short black shorts and a white tank top. Not much clothing, but it was normal enough for Cathy if she was just hanging about the dorm doing homework.
Wait a minute, backtrack, she was doing the hair twirling thing. That was never a good sign when it came to Cathy. I put my hands on my hips. And delivered a sharp kick under her bed.
A loud yelp erupted as my boot collided with soft flesh. I raised my eyebrow at Cathy who was desperately trying to hold her laughter in.
"James Tiberius Kirk, you get out from under there this instant." I said sternly, trying to hide my own laughter.
He rolled out from under the bed, wearing only his boxers, and looked up at me sheepishly.
"That hurt Bree, I'm sure you just gave me a new bruise on top of the bruise from last time you caught me." James whined good-naturedly.
"Then don't let me catch you with my room mate. Or hide somewhere other than under the bed you big baby." I replied, jabbing him sharply in the ribs. "Now get your clothes and get out."
"Aw, come now Bree, no need to be like that, if your jealous, we can make it a threesome. Or you know, I could come back for your sake when Cathy's gone." James replied as he grabbed his trousers from behind the bed and began tugging them on, waggling his eyebrows at me in a ridiculous manner.
"I believe it was you yourself James that called me a prude. I don't plan to change that any time soon. I'm not another plaything." I replied with a small smile, retrieving his shirt from under the table, and tossing it at him. "Now scat."
With another flirtatious grin, James complied and disappeared out of the door. As it clicked shut behind him, I turned to look at Cathy and raised my eyebrow.
"Really Cathy I've told you not to take him back to our room, you know he's just playing with you don't you?" I chided.
"Yep, and its heaps of fun, you should try it some time." Cathy replied cheekily, waggling her eyebrows at me in an amusing imitation of James.
I snorted with laughter and shoved her shoulder so that she fell back on the bed laughing.
I dumped my bed on the floor by the desk and took off my uniform, changing into a more practical outfit of a grey t-shirt and black sweatpants.
"Now Brenda, tell me again about what annoying you now that Kirk being under my bed is not distracting me." Cathy said, a twinkle in her eye.
I groaned and flopped onto the bed beside her.
"Its that damned logic class I took since I had to pick ten more credits. I knew I should have picked statistics instead, I know I hate it, but apparently the statistics teacher is really attractive and nice, and doesn't care whether you hand in homework in a week late. Spock on the other hand, the lecturer for this dumb logic's class is all self-righteous, annoying and proud. He basically told me I am a highly illogical being. Used me as an example of what logic is not when I disagreed with him that logic is logic no matter what. I put up my hand and said that I believed the definition of logic was different from species to species and culture to culture. But no. Damn vulcan, damn logic, and damn ten credits that I need to graduate!" I ranted.
Cathy looked at me sympathetically. "You know, it wasn't only statistics and logic that was ten credits. You could also have picked midwifery basics or endangered music of the outer planets." Cathy reminded me.
I looked at her in horror. "Cathy, you know one has to take first aid basic four before one can take midwifery basic, and I only took first aid one and two, I thoughts that would be enough, and you know that in endangered music of the outer planets, the aim is to do experimental research into resurrecting said endangered music, and you've heard me sing, it sounds like a dying andorian hippopotamus, and I tried to learn to play the violin when I was eleven, and I can assure that didn't sound much better than how I sing."
"You don't sing that badly Brenda." Cathy said sweetly , jumping to my defence.
"Oh really, you want to hear me sing now?" I said grinning.
Cathy visibly flinched. "Okay, maybe you do sound like a dying andorian hippopotamus. Make that a dying andorian hippopotamus trying to give birth to triplets." She said, cringing at the memory.
I made a face. "Thanks Cathy. I really needed that mental picture, especially associated with my singing skills." I replied sarcastically.
I grabbed a pillow and moaned loudly into it. "What am I going to do Cathy, he drives me nuts already and I've only been to one lecture already!"
"Well you know, it was only the first lecture, maybe it'll get better." Cathy reasoned, patting my back gently.
"Yeah. You're right, it'll probably get better. I'm probably just overreacting." I replied with a smile, before hitting her over the head with the pillow.
She yelped, grabbing another pillow and aiming it at my face.
An hour later we had both collapsed on the floor, panting hard, giggling like three-year-olds, feathers flying around our heads.
Yep, I'm a very logical person. There does exist logical reasons for pillow fights. Like you know, bonding and stuff. Very logical indeed.