It was several days later that Spock, having just finished teaching a class, was making his way back to his office when he encountered a harried looking Nyota going the other way.
"Good morning," he said politely, stopping and turning towards her.
"Hi," Nyota replied a little breathlessly, shifting a stack of PADDs up and down in her arms. "How are you?"
"I am well." Spock hesitated, considering briefly how to continue. "It has been some time since our last conversation," he added by way of small talk.
"Yeah it has," she said with a smile. "I've been so busy lately, I feel like there aren't enough hours in a day."
"An interesting phrase," Spock commented mildly, looking her in the eye. "Our meeting is fortuitous. I have been intending to speak with you regarding an upcoming exposition of Klingon opera."
"UHURA!" A loud angry male voice interrupted and Spock turned his head to see a young male cadet hanging out of a doorway glaring at them.
"I'm afraid I really can't stop now," Nyota explained.
"I will not detain you," he assented. "Perhaps we could arrange a more suitable time."
"Sure," she answered although she seemed distracted.
"UHURA! COME ON!" her associate yelled from down the hall.
"I'm COMING!" she barked in response. "Sorry," she breathed contritely.
"There is no need to apologise," Spock said.
"I have to go," she uttered rapidly. "Ah, message me. About the...Klingon thing."
"Very well," Spock replied but she was already hurrying away down the hall.
Spock stood watching her back until she disappeared into the classroom, her companion muttering chastisements at her as the doors closed behind them.
