Descent
"Wait," Gaila shouted, running after Nyota as she attempted to escape their dormitory without a bone-crushing hug from the effervescent Orion woman. Nyota had no choice but to freeze as Gaila slammed into her, practically crushing her ribs as they embraced. "I am going to miss you so, so much!"
Nyota would have laughed if she could breathe. "Gaila, it's a four day break. I'm not even leaving the Academy."
Mercifully, the green-skinned girl pulled away. "What—you're staying here all by yourself?"
"Not all by myself," Nyota insisted defensively. "Some other students are staying."
"Name one."
"Rafe Krouse," she immediately offered.
"Duh—because his family lives in San Francisco, practically right across the street."
"What about Frkyntl?" Nyota added.
Gaila wrinkled her nose. "The blobby-looking thing that has to stay in the tank of goo for five hours out of every day?"
Nyota shrugged, "We can't all be carbon-based life-forms, Gaila."
"Whatever. The point is you can't do homework the whole time we're on break. Promise me you'll have fun."
Nyota smiled. "I promise."
"Promise me that this fun will not involve anything educational," Gaila added, squinting suspiciously.
Cursing inwardly, Nyota tried not to let her dismay show on her face. "Fine, fine, I'll take some long walks."
"I have a better idea," her roommate exclaimed, running and vaulting over her bed to rummage beneath it. She came out with a big smile and two actual honest-to-god paperback books—both with compromising pictures on the front."
"Oh my god, those look ancient," Nyota couldn't help but exclaim.
"I know, right—they're so retro. Grady found them in an antique store and bought them for me. They're actually in pretty good condition. At least try to read them—it's relaxing."
"What if I lose them?" Nyota asked, trying to give them back as quickly as possible.
"Consider it a gift," Gaila replied merrily. "Honestly, it's like giving nutritional supplements to a starving man, but it'll have to do," she added, grinning at her friend. "Now read them!"
"Okay, I'll try, but I really have to go now. I want to get a head start on the lab that's due next week and finally the advanced xenolinguistics laboratory will be empty!" She shoved both books into her already-full bag and fastened on of the clips with some difficulty.
Gaila rolled her eyes. "And on that note, I'm off for a glorious three nights in Greece—enjoy your homework." With that she grabbed her luggage, blew Nyota a kiss, and flounced out the door.
Nyota headed straight for the lab and spent a glorious three hours sifting through subspace attempting to pick up deep-space transitions that may have ricocheted off of comets, satellites, or nebulae and record them for analysis. She probably would have stayed at it longer had the computer consul before not chosen that moment to blink twice. She hastily saved her data before the screen went blue and displayed the following message: We are taking the opportunity to perform scheduled system updates at this time. Regular computer access will be restored at 0500 hours. Thank you for your patience.
Nyota sighed, but realized there was nothing more to accomplish this evening. She grabbed her bag, wincing at the weight on her shoulders, and headed back to her room for a night of restful sleep uninterrupted by talking, crying, or sex of any kind.
Actually, now that she thought about it, it was kind of depressing.
With a sigh, she hit the call button on the turbolift in the building—no way was she lugging this bag down three flights of stairs! The familiar hiss comforted her in a way that the single occupant of the lift did not. He was the typical Vulcan male—thin, pale, pointy, and silently intimidating. She made eye contact, nodded politely, and was nodded at in turn. She pressed the button for the ground floor and clasped her hands behind her back. The doors shut themselves and she heard the distinctive hum of the machinery. The hum stopped and Uhura automatically moved forward—expecting the doors to open.
A forceful grip caught her arm, pulling her back just enough that she did not run face-first into the still-closed doors. She did not gasp or cry out—Uhura was one of those people whom, when surprised, tended to freeze for a few crucial seconds before reacting. It had served her in good stead when she (very occasionally) became the victim of pranks. Now it protected her dignity by preventing her from screeching in surprise at the sudden contact.
Her voice and face composed, she turned to face the Vulcan. "Thank you," her eyes flickered to his uniform, "Lieutenant."
"You are welcome, Cadet," he replied evenly.
She reached over and flipped open the small hatch that concealed the manual door override. Pulling it up forcefully, she watched as the door opened to reveal a portion of smooth, blank wall. Nyota allowed them to close again. "It would seem the computer updates extend beyond the consuls, if they are interfering with the turbolift."
"That seems to be a logical conclusion," the Vulcan said. She pondered for a moment, giving the man a calculating stare. She had an acquaintance working Security tonight who might be able to help her, but if a Lieutenant made he call, he might get more prompt service. She'd prefer not to let anyone know she'd been trapped in the elevator with anyone though—she could already hear the off-color jokes, now. She noted he was returning her stare it without stricture—and that his eyes seemed unusually intense for a Vulcan. "Is there a problem, Cadet?"
Nyota looked away, realizing he probably thought her rude. "No sir, I was merely considering the logical alternatives of the situation."
It was his turn to blink. "Indeed? And what alternatives are these?"
Nyota wished she hadn't said anything. How could she explain her reasoning in a way a Vulcan would understand? "Well, Sir, if I were to contact maintenance or security I'd probably have a forty percent chance of getting priority treatment because I am, essentially, a damsel in distress and I happen to know that Cadet Duke and his equally chivalrous sidekick are working security tonight. However, your higher rank might inspire fear, which could more effectively motivate the cadets on duty."
"A fascinating postulation, though your statistics are attempting to predict the behavior of several highly emotional beings who represent extremely unstable variables," he responded.
"All we can do is be logical in an illogical universe, Lieutenant." She grinned at him conspiratorially and was quietly astonished to see appreciation flicker in his eyes.
There was a moment of silence before the Lieutenant tilted his head to the side and regarded her with something that would have been mischief in any other being. "May I suggest an exercise, Cadet?" the Vulcan asked, tentatively.
"Of course, Lieutenant."
"If you are agreeable, I will call maintenance and request that our situation be made a priority. You may call security and make contact with Cadet Duke. Perhaps we may be able to resolve the question of which duty has greater influence over the human psyche."
"It will not be the most precise experiment, sir," Nyota told him. "I'm not certain everyone on shift tonight is human, and therefore it may not be an accurate reflection."
"I accept that outside of the laboratory, not every variable can be controlled. I would consider this more of a Sociological exercise than a scientific one," he added. "Sometimes, I have been told, one must simply take a chance and 'let the chips fall where they may.'" This last expression was said with a peculiar lilt, suggesting he was not wholly familiar with the usage of the phrase.
"Very well, Lieutenant. I accept your challenge."
He gave the tiniest of sighs. "Why is it that humans must always turn the most straightforward interactions into a competition?"
She smiled, feeling surprising comfortable when he didn't visually respond to it. "Because that's what makes it fun. I was even going to suggest a wager, but perhaps some Earth customs are better left a mystery to outsiders."
The Vulcan raised an eyebrow, then moved to the opposite side of the turbolift and pulled out his communicator as she reached for hers. His call went through first and though he tried to keep quiet so as not to interfere with her own conversation, she did overhear him identify himself—Lieutenant Spock, apparently a professor in the Science department.
Then her call picked up and she heard Duke's disinterested voice say, "Security."
"Duke, it's me."
"Uhura!" he said, sounding excited. "What can I do you for, Babe?"
Rolling her eyes at the endearment, she tried to inject a note of uneasiness into her voice that was believable but not out of character. "I don't know, Duke. I was in the xenolinguistics lab and when the consuls went out. This building is seriously creepy when it's empty. I don't know, I guess I wasn't thinking, I just wanted to get out of here fast, so I took the turbolift but…" She let her voice trail off.
"Oh damn, they're out aren't they?" Duke said, sounding suitably concerned.
"Yes, and now I'm stuck here until 0500—it's just freaking me out a little. I'm not claustrophobic or anything, but for some reason I have a bad feeling about this. Is there anyway you can help me?"
"Uhura, I'm going to do everything I can to get you out of there. Just sit tight, I'll call you back as soon as I've made some progress."
"Thank you so much, Duke."
"Hey, no problem, Babe. Bye."
Another silent grimace at this mode of address was dutifully performed as she flipped the hand-held device closed. Lieutenant Spock was staring at her. Oddly, she felt herself blush under his scrutiny. "A masterful performance," he noted, and was she imagining the hint of irony there?
'You should see me fake an orgasm,' she thought briefly, smirking slightly at the thought of saying something so bold to a superior officer. She replied much more sedately, "One must use all the weapons in one's arsenal, Sir."
"It does not distress your conscience to imply a concern you do not feel?" he asked archly.
"With respect, Sir, what makes you so sure I'm not concerned? I am trapped in a turbolift, in an empty building, with a male stranger who is quiet literally from a different planet. You are taller, stronger, and likely more skilled than I am in combat training. Furthermore, the fact that you are older than I and outrank me implies a clear imbalance of authority."
His brow wrinkled. "Do you feel threatened by me, Cadet?"
Asked right out like that, she found it a difficult question to answer. "I suppose, Sir, I don't think you are seriously contemplating attacking me at the moment. However, I can't suppress an instinctual, residual fear at being trapped with an unknown man—though you seem like a nice guy," she hastily added.
This earned another eyebrow raise. "How can I help to eliminate your distress, Cadet?"
She looked at him, trying to judge how serious he was. "Perhaps you could call me Nyota, Sir. It would make me feel better."
"Very well, then you may address me as Spock, if that will make my rank less obvious to you," he conceded.
"And maybe we could sit down—that way you can't loom so much," she added.
"Does not the word 'loom' imply a level of malevolence, Nyota?" Spock asked as he seated himself on the floor. That was almost a joke.
"Don't worry, Spock. I'm sure you weren't looming intentionally," she said cheekily. It was much easier to tease him when she didn't have to call him Lieutenant and it put her at ease each time he failed to react negatively.
"Have you any more proposals?"
"Well, perhaps if we did something to keep busy—," she suggested thoughtfully.
"As you can see, I have nothing productive with me."
"I probably have something…" she muttered, pulling her bag open. She set Gaila's books aside, pulled out her make-up bag, her exercise uniform—thankfully clean—and a stack of padds six inches tall. She sorted through them, putting the homework away until she found the list of articles, ranging from new ways to boost signal between far-flung colonies to the discovery of a language spoken entirely with bubbles—though from what Uhura could see, it was more of a fluff piece, focusing on how odd the concept was rather than how to speak the language or why it was culturally significant. "Here are some—" She cut herself off staring in horror.
Spock had picked up Gaila's novels was examining them with some interest. On the cover, a muscle-bound man was busily ravishing a blonde temptress in a dungeon setting—an expression of vapid adoration on his face. The title Entrapped by Love said it all. In the other, a pretty, red haired woman in a business suit was being pressed against the wall of an elevator as a dark-haired man fumbled beneath her skirt—apparently to her delight. The cover was emblazoned with the words Elevated Encounter. He raised his head to meet her eyes, having finished perusing the back cover. "Fascinating."
Uhura blushed and hoped that the Vulcan's superior eyesight would not be able to discern the very slight difference in her skin tone. Numb with humiliation, she sank her head into her hands. "I can't believe this is happening
"Indeed?" he asked, sounding honest-to-God curious. "It seems you were prepared for the eventuality, for you have ample research material."
Was it possible to die of indignity? "I cannot believe the chain of events that led to this moment," she muttered incredulously.
"Enlighten me, Nyota," he requested, somehow managing to sound smug without a single inflection. For an emotionless species, he was enjoying her squirming way too much. Vulcans were sadists, Nyota was convinced.
"My roommate, an Orion, gave me those book four hours ago. I happened to put them in my bag instead of throwing them into the nearest trash can. Then, coincidentally, I choose to work at the same time a computer update is scheduled, which just happens to coincide with your schedule. We both wind up in the same turbolift, which happens to break down, and you happen to come across my—that specific book. What are the chances?"
"It is quite unlikely—I calculate the odds of such an event happening again to be less than one percent." She was silent, still recovering from the embarrassment. "Is this not representational of human encounters, then?
Nyota's eyes widened. "Absolutely not—I mean, it's just a romance novel; if it wasn't unbelievable it wouldn't be a fantasy! Besides, those were published almost two hundred years ago, no one would do that in an elevator with a stranger these days."
"Are you certain? It seems unlikely such a novel would stay in circulation if the fantasy was no longer relevant." He was staring at her intently.
She looked up into his face and for the first time noticed that his bland expression looked almost too blank to be real. "You're teasing me, aren't you?" she asked, resigned to the idea that he had completely taken her in. His eyes glinted at her in what was definitely good humor. She narrowed her eyes, "You—"
She was cut off as her communicator sounded. She flicked it open, "Uhura here."
"Hey Babe, it's all taken care of. I moved your building up on the list and the main computer should be back online in five minutes, tops.
"Thanks, Duke; you're the best!"
"No problem—does this mean you'll finally go out with me?" he asked, a bit too eagerly.
Rolling her eyes once more, Uhura tried to keep her tone light. "You know I would never do that to Gaila. Honestly Duke, what kind of a friend would I be if I dated her ex?"
"Oh, I hadn't thought about it like that…"
"Ah, I think the turbolift is coming back on, so I'd better go. Thanks again!"
"Right, well, you're welcome."
"Bye!"
"Nyota, I do not believe I have noticed any indication of the turbolift regaining power," Spock noted calmly.
"Really?" she asked, unconcerned. "Perhaps I was mistaken."
"I am occasionally concerned by the ease with which humans practice deception," he commented disapprovingly.
Nyota bristled at the implied criticism. "Don't Vulcans ever…dissemble?"
"Only when doing so avoids greater harm oranother moral imperative outweighs the desire to be honest."
"Humans frequently lie to smooth relations between others who are not closely involved with us. We pretend to be polite to superiors, pretend to be patient in replimat lines, and pretend to appreciate gifts that we find completely useless or distasteful. Total honesty would probably cause a breakdown of pretty much all of Earth's systems," Nyota informed him.
"That is completely illogical," he told her unequivocally.
"It's only illogical if you take emotion out of the equation. Don't get me wrong, I admire the Vulcan's elegant solution, but for humans it isn't that easy."
It was his communicator that went off this time, and he flipped it open with practiced ease. "Spock here."
"Lieutenant Spock, Security reports another cadet is trapped in the building as well; we've provided them with access to the mainframe and they are moving the computers in your building to the top of the priority list."
"Thank you for your prompt action."
"You're welcome, Sir. Anderson out."
Spock shut the communicator and turned to her. "It appears that chivalry is approximately 34.6% more effective as a motivator than rank," he informed her.
"Technically they both rescued us together—I just got the call first."
"Perhaps—" he was cut off when the turbolift suddenly powered up and began to sink sightly. The doors opened with a hiss and Uhura scrambled to her feet to hit the hold door button. She glanced back to see Spock rising much more gracefully. He handed her the bag she had left on the floor.
"Thank you," she said softly. He nodded politely and she couldn't help but smile. "It was nice meeting you, Lieutenant," she added. "I hope I see you around sometime."
"That is a vague and confusing statement, Cadet, but I return the sentiment."
She shook her head in exasperation as she headed down the corridor, back to her room, finally. This day felt like it had lasted forever. She was halfway down the hallway when she realized she had left Gaila's—no, let's be honest—her book with the Lieutenant. She stopped and glanced back towards the turbolift. Spock was just outside the doors, already scanning the first page.
She resumed course, leaving him to indulge his curiosity. There was no sense in embarrassing him—if such a thing were possible--by letting him know she'd caught him looking. Besides, she had actually had an interesting time with Spock; going to pick up her book would give her a good excuse to see him again. She grinned at the direction her mind was wandering. Perhaps the book would spark his imagination in a positive way—after all, wild sex with an emotionally unavailable man was a common human fantasy, too.
