A/N: So I've been watching the original episodes and now I know I was definitely inaccurate about a lot of things but in my defense the movie itself did not provide particularly accurate character descriptions (I gave Spock far too little credit about his knowledge of Earth customs and history. Furthermore he apparently is quite well versed in classical music and he plays some kind of Vulcan harp... whoopsed). Oh well, I just hope you can appreciate the story for what it is!
He was acutely aware of the hand clasped around his wrist. This was the fifth time that this complicated young lady had engaged him in physical contact without asking. Strangely, however, he felt unusually willing to accept such a sensual gesture from her.
"Just down this hall. The seventh room from the elevator on the seventh floor of the complex. Doubly lucky huh?"
Spock did not understand this reference but he nodded in agreement anyhow. Pulling her new alien acquaintance in tow Stella finally withdrew her pass and held it before the door to her studio.
"I hope you like it, oh and don't mind my cat. She can be a little... clingy."
The door slid open and just as Stella warned her furry roommate darted around the corner and immediately began circling their legs.
"Yes yes Missy I love you too now go away so our new friend Mr. Spock can sit down and make himself comfortable."
Taking a step forward the feline unexpectedly put itself in the path of Stella's foot causing her to stumble forward. After years of close combat training Spock's reflexes kicked in and he caught her around the waist. Now she was very close to his person and this was uncomfortable. Stella blushed.
"Well look how clumsy I am."
She stood up completely allowing Spock to release her and maintain his space. Brushing herself off she gestured for him to follow her. As they walked through the hall Spock was slightly distracted by the vibrantly red walls. Stella rattled on.
"You know I was in the mood for red yesterday but today it just seems violent. Don't you think so?"
Before he could reply she tapped the wall and a menu displayed color choices. Choosing blue Spock stared on as suddenly the walls and even the colors of the various glass vases changed to an appealing shade of blue. Raising an eyebrow Spock commented.
"Fascinating, walls that act like large scale computer monitors."
Stella spun around and proudly elaborated.
"Cool huh? These sort of apartments are all the rage in the city! Imagine living quarters that can be changed without having to screw around with messy things like paint.
Picking up a nearby vase it suddenly lost all color.
"And all the decorations can change with it. The glass takes its color from the lights that reflect off it's crystals."
Spock continued to follow her until they reached a large room separated into a living room and kitchen. Taking the case from his shoulder she carefully placed it in a corner and pointed to a sofa. Stella insisted that Spock take a seat and he obliged. Moving into the kitchen she began to hum as she mixed some drinks. Looking around the room Spock found himself crowded in a sea of strange unidentified instruments. Touching a nearby pipe containing a pattern of silver keys he concluded that it's holes would make it a most useless container. He curiously ventured around various wooden and metal objects, speculating their uses. When he came across a much larger instrument consisting of a series of metal stings and a pattern of keys he reached out to touch it. A sound emitted and closer examination told him that it was the result of a sort of hammer connecting to the key that when pressed would trigger the hammer to strike one of the strings.
"Do you play?"
Spock mentally jumped at the sudden intrusion. Turning around he met Stella's smiling face and a tray of two cups. Collecting himself he replied simply.
"No I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."
Eying him in a strange manner Stella gracefully set the tray down and sat down on a bench before the large apparatus. Picking up her hands she immediately began pressing the keys in a fast pattern that filled Spock's ears with a glorious sound. For minutes she seemed lost in her mind as her fingers flew up and down it's board. When at last she stopped Spock closed his eyes as if trying to recapture the experience. At last he asked her directly.
"What was that enchanting sound?"
Stella laughed and waved her hand dismissively.
"Why it's a piano silly. Clearly you've never heard one before or you would know that on the whole I'm quite untalented with this particular instrument."
Spock gazed around the room in totality.
"Are all of these, devices, used in the production of sound?"
Placing a beverage in his hand Stella began to pace the room looking from object to object.
"Yep hundreds of antique instruments dating from the 20th century all the way back to the 15th century. They're each quite dear to me. The cello is my favorite of course, but I know how to play a little on the rest of them. Of course I would have a large collection. I am quite the accomplished researcher in the field of ancient music after all." She turned to face him. "Would you guess that a scatter brain like me actually has a doctorate." She turned on her heal. "Indeed I used to be one of the most sought after professors in the entire world."
Despite his limited knowledge of educational institutions outside the Star fleet academy, Spock was aware that her description indicated an exceptionally high level of achievement. Furthermore he understood that they were both instructors of sorts.
"Actually I too am involved in the field of education. I teach a Romulan language course and I administer tests for potential Starfleet commanders."
Stella took a sip from her own glass as she moved to sit closer to him. If she leaned just so, her skin would brush against his
"How exciting it must be to know so much about something so vastly bigger than our, well my insignificant little Earth." She began to fiddle with one of her long strands of hair. "At any rate, isn't it rewarding to teach the next generation. If you're students become anything, they owe it all too you."
Spock shifted a few inches farther from her.
"They owe me nothing. I'm simply fulfilling my duty."
Stella blew a raspberry.
"Oh you are far too modest. As much as we do for those kids, at least on my salary, they owe us their lives."
Giving up on his persistent lack of sentiment Stella stood and once more began to pace the room.
"We are actually very different in our goals if you think about it. You offer what is new and progressive." Picking up a small stringed wooden instrument, she began plucking the strings into an effortless melody. "I on the other hand, want to remind the young people that there are some things from Earth's past worth saving." She stopped and to Spock's surprise a frown worked its way into her delicate features (he couldn't help but notice that they were indeed delicate in a most appealing manner). "Unfortunately I seem to be a minority. Nowadays people just want computer synthesized dance music. Centuries of surviving works of art, slowly fade into oblivion. The practice of human performances is a dying trade in reality."
Spock shook his head disapprovingly.
"Quite illogical. Your kind of music and modern Terran music is not comparable. They do not seem to perform the same function. Such popular music seems to be stimulating to the body whereas your music is stimulating to the mind."
Stella pressed the metal pipe Spock had observed earlier to her lips and once more a lovely gratifying sound diffused throughout the studio. At long last she placed it back in its respective place.
"Yes Spock I quite agree. If only everyone around here made so much damn sense."
Again walking over to sit close to him she looked straight into his eyes. Spock was not used to such an insistent gaze and he, for a moment, forgot their proximity in distance. Although he refused to allow any sort of display of feelings he could not help but sense in him a sort of admiration of her appearances. She had a thin frame with a narrow face, framed by her long golden hair and fringe. Her eyes were an uncommon shade of green that suited her perfectly. Her skin glowed as if hit by moonlight with a hint of rose in her cheeks. Her face now fell into a look of confusion.
"Spock I'm trying to understand you better but your face remains perpetually unchanged as if you are hiding something. Won't you tell me more about yourself."
Spock turned away breaking the visual contact.
"I come from the planet Vulcan. My race, after centuries of barbaric war came to the conclusion that emotions are unnecessary and in fact the cause for most problems. In my culture, children are taught to eliminate the sensation of feelings in favor of pure logic. I imagine for you it may be difficult to understand my ways. Do not mind the lack of diversity in my facial expressions. I have never intended to be deceptive."
Stella turned away and fixed her eyes on the floor.
"How unfortunate to never be allowed to feel." Once more her eyes caught his. "After all I can tell that you feel very deeply."
This time Spock's face displayed a hint of confusion.
"I'm not sure I understand what you mean."
Stella again turned away smiling. Spock noticed her hand casually brush against his.
"I told you that I noticed you were lost in the street, as if you wanted someone to reach out to you. Then again when you thought I was hit by that car, I could tell that you were severely agitated. It was as if you were reliving something painful. And most indicatively, only a person with emotional experience could understand the point of my music the way you do."
Spock retreated to his thoughts. He wanted to think that she was wrong and that he was above such purposeless emotions. And yet, he could not deny the truth. She was right. In each instance described, he had felt something. Stella took his hand in hers.
"Perhaps you would feel easier about talking to me if I told you a little about myself first." Sighing she closed her eyes. "The truth about me is that I'm a lonely woman and I have always been plagued by a sort of separation from others. I'm known far and wide and respected by many but at the end of the day people are intimidated by my type. I simply think differently and when you think differently you find yourself at odds with the average. I once had a family of people who understood me but they have all long since passed. You understand what that's like don't you?"
Spock was finding it increasingly more difficult to maintain his passive exterior. Turning towards Stella and noticing a surprisingly sincere look of pain he couldn't help but sympathize with her. Sympathize, what a painful slip of emotion to allow.
"In many ways, Stella, you and I are in very similar circumstances."
she squeezed his hand compassionately and although Spock was nervous about the touch something inside kept him from releasing her.
"Just years ago, I watched helplessly as my planet imploded in a black hole and I lost my dear mother. She was human and my father was Vulcan placing me in the middle of two very different cultures. As I grew up amongst my peers, who all boasted of full Vulcan heritage, she was the only one who ever endured the same prejudices I did. I have never felt pain like I did when she slipped from my fingers."
Realizing his words Spock froze in disbelief at his honesty. He had never shared such feelings even with James and yet how easily he had shared these thoughts with Stella in such a short amount of time. He wanted to retreat and yet he also wanted to tell her more. At length Stella interrupted the silence.
"Spock, I want to tell you something." She paused as if choosing the right words. "When I saw you today, somehow I knew that we could understand each other... I think I was right."
After a few moments Spock nodded his head in agreement. Stella looked him in the eyes.
"You don't ever have to come back again if you don't want to... but I hope you will."
Yawning she boldly placed her head on his shoulder. For several minute neither of them spoke, each for their own respective reasons. Spock, internally overwhelmed by what was said and the now complete lack of distance between them, was at loss for how to react. What did she mean? Would he ever actually return? Before he could process it all he realized that Stella was no longer awake. After several more minutes of indecision, Spock arranged her body in a sitting position and prepared to carry her to her sleeping quarters. When at last he found the room containing her bed he gently set her down and gazed at her peacefully sleeping figure. Somewhere in his complex thoughts it occurred to him the the serene expression she wore added to her beauty.
"But what do these thoughts mean? Why am I reacting so strongly to this stranger?"
Alas, he turned to leave the room in search of some unknown destination away from this intriguing human; however, just as he left her bedside Spock felt a hand enclose around his wrist. As he looked back towards Stella he suddenly felt his particles disassemble.
When Spock reappeared he realized he was back in the transporter room from which he came. An irritated James T. Kirk was glaring at him over the edge of the control panel.
"Do you have any idea how difficult it was to find your coordinates. Where in the hell have you been?"
Spock just sighed deeply.
