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SPOCK POV

Spock rubbed his temples with his left hand, and checked the clock by the side of his table. 11:50pm. Far too late for any respectable Vulcan to be awake, even later for one to be still working. There was still a pile of unmarked papers on his kitchen table, but he had managed to break the back of the load. The conversation that he had last had with Doctor Leonard McCoy swam into his head. Surely it wasn't too immoral to ask one of the more capable students to assist him with his marking, as long as it didn't interfere with her schoolwork.

He froze.

Her schoolwork?

Had his brain really betrayed him, by already picking out a student that was suitable for the job? He couldn't deny to himself that Cadet Birchwood was the ideal student to ask for help from. She was intelligent, hardworking, lightning fast, and after today's conversation, he was positive that she would be able to manage her time sufficiently. So why was he so reluctant to ask for her help?

His mind ran back to their interaction earlier that day. He had been determined to confront her, after what he had come to understand was unacceptable behaviour. As a student, he was obliged to treat her no differently from any other member of the student body, and her test scores proved to him that he was incorrect in assuming that she wasn't up for the course. In theory, she was ideal to ask for assistance.

Spock stood up from his table, walking towards his kitchen and placing a kettle on the hob, pulling out a peppermint tea from a cupboard above his head. He needed to get that girl out of his mind.

He had only met the British girl a week ago, and already, she was invading his thoughts. It infuriated him to no end. Of course, he had overheard her and her Orion friend on that first day, when he walked past them on the way to class and they were in a deep conversation about the shortcomings of his species. His mind wandered back to the event, her easily recognisable accent echoing around the campus.

'I don't think Vulcans do fun.'

Her laughter rung around Spock's ears as he stormed past her, furious with her obvious dismissal of him. It was only when he began to examine his actions that he realised that he had done the exact same thing to her, dismissed her abilities without assessing them first.

He sighed to himself and rubbed his temples with his forefingers, kicking his shoes off and placing them beside the table. He padded into his bedroom in his socks, pulling his regulation blue Starfleet shirt off over his head, and throwing it into the laundry basket by the door. He sat down the end of his bed and bent down, pulling his black socks off and tossing them in the same direction as his shirt. He blinked twice, hard, trying to erase the smug face that seemed to have imprinted itself onto his retinas. He had had students who had affected him emotionally in the past, of course, students that he had liked and disliked, but none of them stayed in his mind past the classroom.

This was different.

She plagued him.

The high shrill whistle of the boiled kettle brought him out of his thoughts, and he pushed himself up off the bed and walked back out to the kitchen in just his black trousers, pulling the kettle off the hob and making himself a cup of peppermint tea. He carried it with him to his couch and sat down, decidedly ungracefully, taking a calm and measured sip of his tea, scalding as the hot liquid burned down his throat, thinking on the day's events.

ALEX POV

"Shots! Shots! Shots!" Yelled T'yonga as I poured my fifth glass of tequila down my throat, gagging at the intense taste.

"Gaahh…" I muttered, and a firm hand patted my back roughly, but I had no idea who it was. The alcohol went straight to my brain, blurring my already hazy vision.

"Who said the English don't know how to have a good time?" yelled Jim, raising his half-full beer glass in the air in emphasis, and slinging his arm around T'yonga's shoulder, causing her to beam in joy.

"Anybody who has ever met one of us." I replied scathingly, and T'yonga screeched in laughter, her red curls bobbing up and down.

"You are the funnest grumpy person I have ever met." She replied, wriggling out of Jim's grasp and tottering towards me on her six inch black diamanté heels. She looked incredible, her shapely legs showed off in a pair of figure-hugging black leather leggings and a pale pink silk shirt draped casually over her torso. She gave me a grin and ruffled up my hair affectionately, giving me a tight hug, towering over me in my blue ballet flats.

T'yonga had, once again, forced me into one of her dresses. This one, a light blue knee-length dress with white floral patterns, actually fit me well, hugging my curvy figure. I had worn my hair down, and it fell in loose curls over my shoulders, contrasting with the red lipstick that I applied. As soon as I had got home that afternoon, and told T'yonga about the surprising apology from a certain Vulcan, she had insisted that we go out to 'Nix', the newest nightclub in the city, to celebrate. She invited Jim, and I decided to invite Jackie, the Southern girl from my Maths class. She'd been only too happy to come along.

"Alex. Alex." A voice from my left.

I turned, and smiled at the sight of Jackie, leaning on the bar with one elbow, her black dress hanging dangerously low around her chest, a glass of Bacardi and Coke in her hand.

"Come over here." She slurred, grabbing my elbow and leading me away from the bar. I may be tipsy, but she was full blown drunk. She led me to a small table in the corner of the room, managing to avoid the dancers who were gyrating to the music being blared from all sides. The chairs were wooden and hard, but we were snug in a corner away from most of the noise, so I appreciated it. I took a glance over to the bar and saw T'yonga downing what must have been her eighth shot, with Jim looking on, impressed.

I turned my attention back to Jackie, who was staring intently at her glass of coke, watching the brown bubbles slowly rise to the top. She noticed me looking, and gave me a conspiratorial grin.

"Soooo…" she slurred, pointing a shaky finger at my face for emphasis, "What's going on with that Vulcan?"

I rolled my eyes. Of course she would want to talk about him.

"I dunno, Jackie," I said honestly, "It wasn't particularly Vulcan-like for him to apologise. But at the same time, I guess he was right, I mean, he was being unnecessarily unfair to me."

"Yeah I guess," she replied, pouting at the boringness of my comment, she was probably hoping for some juicy gossip, "Still, t's weird. Even at the beginning of the week, he acted almost… emotive towards you."

That was true. The anger that he had shown me when I had arrived late to his class was emotional, something that Vulcans usually abhorred.

"Ya know he's half human?" Jackie murmured to me, and my ears pricked up instantly.

"He's what?" I replied incredulously. Jackie's attention had strayed over to the bar, where a gentleman with blue skin and a shock of pink hair was flexing his impressive biceps to an adoring crowd of onlookers. I grabbed her elbow and pulled her attention back to me.

"He's what, Jackie?"

She looked at me confused for a second, then her eyes widened in understanding.

"Half human." She replied flippantly, as if it wasn't very exciting news, "His mom's human. Dad's Vulcan."

My eyebrows rose so high that I was surprised they didn't disappear under my hairline. Well that explained his outbursts.

"His mom comes back to Earth occasionally to visit. She's nice." Continued Jackie, unaware of my state of shock, "She's called Amy or Amanda or something like that, I can't remember. That probably explains his actions towards you, though. He has a bit of red blood mixed in with all the green."

I snorted at that, somehow, I couldn't see the professor as anything other than a pure-bred Vulcan.

"I mean, he was a bit of a dickhead when you first met him…" Jackie continued, scratching a circle into the matted wooden table with her long fingernail.

I chuckled to myself, recalling the horrific week that I had just had.

"Yeah, well hopefully I'll enjoy the rest of the year more than the first week." I muttered to myself, "You never know, I might even start to like his lessons."

I reached over the table and took a long gulp of Jackie's drink, which she laughed at.

"Don't tell me you're starting to get attached, Alex."

A flush of heat rushed to my pale cheeks at her question, and she noticed immediately.

"Oooh, you're blushing! You're blushing!"

"I'm not shitting blushing, it's just warm in here." I deadpanned back, but Jackie was having none of it. She threw back he head in laughter.

"You know, Vulcans only fall in love once in their lives, Alex. You'd better hurry up before somebody snatches him up."

My cheeks were burning at this point, and I stuck my middle finger up at her, to which she laughed even more. I didn't hate the guy, but I was certain that that didn't equate to unrequited love. I took another large mouthful of Jackie's Bacardi and Coke, wrinkling my nose at the taste.

"I don't have a crush on a Vulcan, Jackie…"

"Half-Vulcan," she corrected me, grinning at my obvious annoyance, and patting me assuredly on the shoulder, "He's only half-Vulcan."

I rolled my eyes and couldn't help but grin. Sober Jackie was funny, but drunk Jackie was hilarious.

Our heart to heart was rudely interrupted by T'yonga, dragging Jim along with her towards our table, carrying four glasses of bright green liquid, so luminous it almost glowed in the dull light of the club.

"Drink up, girls!" Yelled Jim, struggling to be heard over the thumping music.

"Do I even want to know what's in those?" I asked, a smirk on my face.

Jim shook his head and laughed, his blonde hair flying around his face with the motion, "Probably not, England. Probably not. They're called 'blackouts' apparently. I'm pretty sure there's some morphine in them."

"Sounds perfect." I replied, grinning from ear to ear, and picking up the small shot glass. Jackie took hers in hand as well, giving me a conspiratorial wink.

"THREE! TWO! ONE!" Yelled T'yonga, before downing the shot in one. I followed suit, tipping the small glass back, swallowing the contents. The drink tasted like petrol, burning my throat on the way down and lighting my insides like fire.

"Whoo!" Jackie yelled as she slammed her empty glass down on the table, earning a pat on the back from T'yonga, "That... was quite something…"

"Scooch up," Jim asked, nudging my shoulder, and I shimmied my chair sideways, giving him room to pull up a chair, and tug T'yonga into his lap, much to her delight. She took a large gulp of the glass of Bacardi and Coke that Jackie had brought to the table.

"Sooooo…" He dragged out the word, drunkenly slurring, "What were you two having a little chat about earlier?"

My face flushed beetroot red and I glanced at Jackie.

"Don't you dare."

She flippantly waved my plea away with her hand, "Alex has a crush on the Vulcan."

A wet spray caught me off guard as T'yonga spat out a mouthful of coke in surprise, covering me with the foamy liquid. Jim burst into raucous laughter, throwing his head back and flashing a row of film-star straight teeth.

"Holy shit, Alex." T'yonga laughed, "This is out of the blue!"

"I don't have a crush on the poncey Vulcan," I insisted, but none of them were paying me any heed.

"Of course you don't. That would be illogical." Retorted Jim, earning a smirk from T'yonga and a belly-laugh from Jackie. I glared at all of them, giving them the death-stare, but my annoyance at the situation just made them laugh more.

I stood up, scraping my chair on the floor, and Jim wiped a tear from his eye, chuckling as he looked up at me.

"Going so soon, Birchwood? It' only…" he checked his watch, "Twelve. Don't tell me we've scared you off."

I rolled my eyes at him.

"I'm going to get another bloody 'blackout', hopefully it will erase all memories of this conversation. Who's for another one?"

A rousing chorus of, "Me!" came from the table, and I shook my head, laughing, before making my way over to the bar.

The barman was a burly gentleman, with skin the colour and texture of tree-bark.

"What'll it be?" he asked in a gravelly voice.

"Four 'blackouts', please, I requested, slamming a twenty dollar note on the bar. He got to work preparing the drinks, and I glanced back at the table my friends were sitting on. They were all laughing, grinning like their mouths were going to come off. I couldn't help but grin too. I was lucky to have such a great bunch of friends, even if they did tease me mercilessly.

I mean, they weren't right about the Professor. Sure, I had respect for him, he was an expert in his field, but I wouldn't go as far as to say that I had a crush on him. That would be… inappropriate.

Yes, so the last time that we had spoken, I had had butterflies running all the way from my head to my toes, but that was just because I was worried about what he was going to say to me… wasn't it? I sighed and shook my head, clearing my thoughts. I was far too drunk to think about this now.

"Four blackouts," the barman announced, placing the drinks on the counter and handing me my change.

"Thanks," I replied, tucking the change in my bra and struggling to pick up all four glasses without dropping any of them.

I walked back to the table, where my three friends cheered when I arrived and placed the drinks down. I grabbed one, and downed it, scrunching my eyelids at the taste. I didn't usually drink, but with all that had been going on this week, I thought that I deserved it.

Thank you all for reading, hope you enjoyed! X As always, please tell me what you think by chucking me a review. x