The First Week...
Spock headed from his quarters to the bridge as he had done a thousand times before. As probability suggested he would do a thousand times again. Spock liked routine, the Captain railed against it, McCoy put up with it, but Spock liked it. It was familiar and ordered. It provided a logical structure to his day whilst freeing his mind to focus on the acquisition of knowledge and the contemplation of that which was already known.
He arrived at the bridge without fanfare, he never rushed in late as the Captain sometimes did, or singing as Uhura sometimes did, or laughing as Chekov and Sulu had been known to do. He arrived quietly and efficiently. He assumed his post without feeling the need to engage in the trivial pleasantries which seemed to oil the wheels of human interaction. Uhura would say ''Good Morning'' or ''Hello'' and he would respond politely, sometimes the Captain would say ''Good Morning'' or ''Hello'' and he responded as etiquette required. He did not engage in their conversation further unless he could contribute fact or data in order to inform the Captain's decision making.
Today routine was a little out; there was a new face on the bridge standing by the Captain's chair talking comfortably with him. A dark haired woman in a blue uniform, although it was difficult to be accurate from his customary position on the bridge, Spock judged her to be two point six centimetres taller than Uhura. She had dark brown eyes, not unlike his own, and an engaging manner by which the Captain was obviously engaged. That at least accorded with routine.
''Mr Spock'' said the Captain ''This is Lieutenant Kirkpatrick, she will be with us for a few weeks until we can drop her off at starbase six.''
''Indeed'' said Spock, response was obviously required but clearly unnecessary, this was his standard resolution to that conundrum.
''She'll be attached to life sciences while she's here. I've assigned Dr McCoy to look after her'' said the Captain. Spock raised an eyebrow, even on casual inspection it was patent that the woman was a Starfleet officer of some rank and experience, it was doubtful that she required any form of 'looking after'. ''Perhaps you'll be good enough to escort her to sickbay, we don't want her getting lost on her first day'' said Kirk, smiling conspiratorially at the Lieutenant.
If it hadn't already been in his hairline, Spock would have raised an eyebrow at that too. Instead he simply moved to the turbolift and waited patiently by the doors until the Captain had finished talking to the Lieutenant. They parted and the Lieutenant moved with a sprightly grace to join Spock where he stood. The turbolift doors opened and they entered, in the confined space Spock's subtle senses picked up the Lieutenant's scent. She was wearing something non-regulation, it took a few seconds for him to place it, it was so out of context. It was a Vulcan scent. She smelled of the flowers of his homeworld.
She looked up at him just as this realisation dawned, her eyes catching his. He lifted his gaze immediately, breaking the contact. She stood impassively beside him, a polite and unthreatening presence, smiling gently to herself since there was no one else to smile at.
''I believe you are wearing a Vulcan scent, Miss Kirkpatrick'' said Spock. Curiosity may have been a danger to feline creatures of her world, but it had never yet endangered him. Never yet.
''It is based on its flora Mr Spock'' she said pleasantly as the turbolift arrived at its destination, opening its doors to release them into the corridor. ''I'm a botanist, I specialise in plant chemistry, particularly its application in medicine'' she explained as they walked to sickbay ''this is a little something I concocted one evening when I had nothing better to do.''
Spock was seized momentarily by an unaccustomed, and unwelcome, confusion. He had been about to remonstrate with the woman; there was always something better to do. Science as a discipline always offered something to engage the mind in productive activity, but he liked the result of her boredom. It pleased him and therefore it was difficult to argue against the catalyst for its creation. His brows knitted for an instant as he restructured his thinking. The occasional bout of disorderly confusion was a logical hazard of serving in such constant proximity to humans, he reasoned, he should not be surprised by it. Surprised by it, never the less, he was.
McCoy was near the doors as they entered sickbay, seated at a desk studying something intently. His concentration broke as they came in and he looked up. ''You must be Elisabeth'' he said, rising from his seat and talking directly to the Lieutenant without acknowledging Spock. Spock was not surprised by this, both the Doctor and the Captain were easily distracted by a pretty face. By a pretty face? Where had that come from? When had he made that evaluation? Clearly his thinking was more disordered than he imagined. He resolved to spend some time in meditation as soon as he was off duty.
''Call me Beth'' said the Lieutenant easily, extending a hand in greeting. McCoy took her hand, bowed gallantly and touched it to his lips. Spock raised an eyebrow. The Lieutenant smiled graciously.
''The Lieutenant is a botanical chemist with an interest in bio-medical research'' said Spock. McCoy eyed him curiously, there had been the whisper of something, what? proprietorial? in Spock's voice. No that was ludicrous, this was Spock. He must have been mistaken.
''Well, we'll have to get together and discuss that'' said McCoy grinning widely ''I have somewhat of an interest in medicine myself.'' The Lieutenant smiled non-committally. She would be on this ship for a few weeks and navigating male ego was a fine art.
''I am sure that any such discussion would prove profitable'' said Spock, instantly reviewing the statement in his head for any signs of disordered thinking. No, it was factual and politely complimentary, exactly what was required and nothing more. However he was not so sure that his conclusion should be proving such a relief to him.
''It would be interesting to discuss Vulcan botany with a Vulcan scientist'' said the Lieutenant, turning to Spock.
''I am not a botanist'' said Spock formally ''but I would welcome such a discussion.''
''It's a date then'' said the Lieutenant brightly. McCoy turned to Spock expectantly, the Vulcan's discomfort never failing to entertain in this sort of situation.
''We have an agreement'' amended Spock carefully, but said nothing further. Curiouser and curiouser, thought McCoy.