"Nyota," he stated, his voice betraying the merest hint of surprise.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded. Spock tilted his head to one side. She quickly tugged her jacket down off her head and smoothed down her hair.
"My quarters are located in this vicinity." Nyota dropped her eyes to the floor.
"Oh," she said by way of reply. They stood in silence for a few moments and when she raised her head he was regarding her expectantly. "What?"
"Your greeting was uncharacteristically curt," he told her.
"It wasn't intended as a greeting at all," she muttered. Spock's eyebrows went up.
"You are displeased, presumably as a result of our last encounter," he stated.
"Your statement supposes your presence is capable of provoking an emotional response in me," she mocked.
"Am I mistaken?" Spock asked, stepping closer.
"You may be my superior but your question is very personal. I would be within my rights to decline to answer," Nyota deflected.
"If you do so, I shall infer that you would have otherwise replied in the negative," Spock told her. Nyota shook her head, confused.
"How is that logical?" she complained, rubbing her temple absently. Spock dropped his gaze. Nyota could not miss the uncharacteristic swipe of his tongue across his lips.
"Forgive me. The complexities of human interaction are confusing to me," he explained. Nyota smiled bitterly.
"That much is clear," she said, wrinkling her nose and sniffing as the rain trickled down her face. "This is ridiculous," she huffed.
"Yes, it is illogical for us to continue this discussion in the rain," Spock stated, stepping closer. "This establishment offers adequate shelter." He gestured to a restaurant immediately to her left.
Nyota shook her head in disbelief. "Are you suggesting I wait out the weather? With you? In this restaurant?"
"It is not without precedent. You have remained in my company during inclement whether on many occasions," he said. She could not fault his logic.
Nyota did not reply, turning instead onto the covered patio at the front of the restaurant and seating herself at a free table. Spock's expression was as neutral as ever and she cursed him inwardly, peering into his eyes in search of even the vaguest hint of what was going through his mind. The sound of the rain was loud on the awning above them, the air was filled with the quiet murmurings of the other patrons and the general hubbub of the market. When the server approached Spock ordered tea and Rigellian dumplings.
"And for you miss?" the server inquired. Nyota swallowed hard.
"The same," she answered, fiddling with the corner of the table and avoiding Spock's stare. They sat in silence for a moment before she heaved an exasperated sigh. "This is ridiculous."
"I disagree," Spock answered. Nyota glared at him.
"I don't even know why I'm here!" she uttered.
"I find it to be a perfectly logical state of affairs," Spock told her.
"I don't see how it is logical for me to be at a restaurant with you," Nyota replied. His brow furrowed.
"It is no less logical than any other occasion in which we have been in each others company." Nyota scowled.
"Working together in a professional capacity is a little different from sharing a meal, Spock," she told him condescendingly.
"I understand eating together is an activity Humans often partake of together in a social context," Spock answered.
"That implies a certain level of familiarity," Nyota replied.
"You have previously led me to believe that our acquaintance was sufficiently familiar," Spock said.
"From the way you behaved today, Spock, you are lucky I am even talking to you. If you weren't my commanding officer..." she hissed. Spock's expression darkened.
"Professional ethics do not encourage fraternization between cadets and their training officers." Nyota became aware of an unpleasant knot in her stomach.
"Are we fraternizing?" she asked nervously. Before Spock could answer the server arrived bringing their food. She could have sworn he seemed relieved by the distraction. He clutched his fork in his hand and stared at his food.
"Happy Stomach," she said blankly in Rigellian. Spock's lips quirked.
"Happy Stomach," he replied.
The silence with which they began to eat was unbearable. Nyota stared out at the passers-by on the street and gave a little cough.
"I like Rigellian food," she ventured, not looking at Spock.
"It is agreeable," Spock replied eventually. Nyota turned and gave him an expectant look. He glanced from side to side. "There is a gratifying variety of vegetarian dishes," he added. Nyota nodded.
"Yes," she said. "There are."