"Is the seating assigned?"
"No, this is casual. Let's just pick somewhere."
Sivok nodded and walked down the stairs, scanning the bleachers and attempting to predict which areas would remain secluded. He gave up and sat down on the nearby bench. It was impossible to calculate without having attended a game in the past.
"This is nice." Matteson smiled and adjusted her blouse, and Sivok looked away, still unused to seeing her civilian clothing.
"Have you been here before?" he questioned, looking forward at the field as Starfleet crewmen scurried about, carrying supplies and equipment Sivok assumed was used in the sport.
"No, I knew Starfleet Academy has collegiate teams in a bunch of sports as well as the intramural faculty teams, but I don't do team sports."
"Do?" He turned his head at her phrasing.
"Participate in or watch. I'm not really a team player."
"Because you are a loner?"
She chuckled at his continued use of her word. "Yeah, but more because I don't take direction very well."
He nodded. "I have noticed."
She elbowed him playfully and laughed and he raised an eyebrow.
"I was in gymnastics when I was younger. But then I got too tall. Do they have sports on Vulcan?"
He considered her question. "We have various physical activities, some of which are performed against another individual. We also have judged competitions on various mental and physical events."
"But nothing like this."
He shook his head. "Well, this will be different for you. I'm glad you're branching out into less familiar territory. Are you looking forward to watching the game?"
He said nothing and chose to stare forward, eliciting a sigh from her. "Very well. I saw a snack replicator up there. I'm going to go grab something for us."
He nodded once and continued to look forward, watching the players warm up and practice on the sides of field. His eyes focused on his Vulcan lab tech, whose darker skin pigmentation and tall, lanky build differentiated him from the other players, even with the hat covering his ears.
Tilk was throwing the ball in a very specific fashion, and another player in the same blue and red uniform was catching it in various positions. They would stop and talk for a few seconds and then resume.
Others were using tapered sticks to hit the same type of ball, or running back and forth in a circle. The other team appeared to be doing some form of calisthenic stretching.
Sivok narrowed his eyes, confused as to why Tilk would participate in such an event. It seemed childish; a game of balls, sticks, and basic hand-eye coordination? He figured Chambal must have brought Tilk into it. He tried to stomp down his reaction to thoughts of the pair.
His musings were interrupted by a group of humans who began to bump into his legs as they squeezed by him to the empty bleachers to his right, offering their apologies as they went. He gave them his most ferocious death glare he could manage and looked around. Over half of the seating was empty, why did they select this area?
As the group of cadets settled into their seats, talking and arguing loudly among themselves, Sivok closed his eyes and carefully suppressed his frustration.
Why was he here? To build trust with Matteson, certainly not to be around the humans or watch this childish game. He also wanted to consider Tilk's logic in participating. He would accomplish both, and promptly leave and return to work, even though Matteson and his lab techs were "off" that day.
The noise level around him grew and his frustration returned, and his eyes shot open as he stood, making a split-second decision to go find Matteson and move to a quieter place. Unfortunately, he didn't notice the young human woman who had seated herself to his right was now standing, holding a tray of beverages in her hand and passing them to the others.
His arm knocked slightly into her as he stood, and she turned to try and regain her balance, dumping the tray of drinks onto him in the process. The group went silent, watching the tall Vulcan's annoyance become visible, even to their untrained eyes. The red sticky substance quickly soaked into his Vulcan-style black suit, and he narrowed his eyes at the young woman, who now looked terrified.
"I'm so sorry!" she shrieked, grabbing the pile of bio-napkins from the bench and frantically rubbing them on him and continuing to jabber her excuses.
"You were sitting so still- I didn't think- I'm so sorry-"
He quickly attempted to escape by edging down the row of bleachers, away from the group while she followed, continuing to attempt to 'clean' him. He winced slightly as she brushed against his hands, throwing up his mental shields as glimpses of her thoughts slipped through. He jerked away, quickly sliding out of the row and heading up the stairs.
The girl was terrified of him.
To make it worse, she had been since before his sudden movement caused her drink tray to spill. Why? Vulcans were pacifists. Surely she learned this in her primary education.
He thought of Chambal, who still had never spoken directly to him, not that he really minded. He loathed the idea of a chatty human lab tech. Then he thought of most of the Starfleet officers and crewman. They avoided him completely, often turning and walking in the other direction or exiting the lift as soon as he came near. Were they afraid of him too?
Jira and Pike were the exact opposite: overconfident in their confrontations with him. He had long wondered where their negative emotions against him stemmed from. Was is it his behavior, as Matteson had said?
But he had neither done nor said anything to the young woman in the bleachers, and she had been afraid before spilling her tray of drinks. Was it just because he was Vulcan? But most importantly, where did Matteson fit into this? Was she not afraid? Why, and what did it mean for the ongoing relationship?
The sticky liquid stiffening on his clothing, pulled Sivok from his thoughts. The game had not yet begun, and the outing was already going poorly.
"Sivok? What happened?" He looked up the stairs to find Matteson holding a tray of food and staring at him with concern.
He looked down at his clothing. "We need to acquire new seating."
"I see. Let's.. .go do that." She stifled a laugh, causing him to raise an annoyed eyebrow as they moved to the other side of the bleachers, settling into a mostly deserted area.
"It's called popcorn." She smiled and handed him the small, round container.
"I do not… care… for human food."
"Just try it. It's traditional."
He looked around, all twenty-nine humans in his immediate vicinity had a 'popcorn' container as well. Apparently she was correct. Unable to argue with tradition, he grimaced and looked down at his snack.
He studied the bowl-like container and held out his hand. "May I have a spoon."
She furrowed her eyebrows. "I don't have one. You don't eat popcorn with a spoon."
He looked around to the crowd, attempting to determine the traditional consumption method. She was correct that no utensils were in use. Most of the humans were using their hands, some were throwing it up and into their mouth, and others were feeding it to each other.
He looked away from the disturbing sights, but a man near the front caught his attention. He had tipped the container back, and was lightly shaking it to coax the pellets out and into his mouth. It was still an uncivilized eating method, but was better than using his hands.
Sivok breathed in deeply and threw the container back as he attempted to 'drink' the popcorn, which naturally spilled all over his face and onto his clothes, sticking to the beverage still soaked into his clothing.
He brushed the material from his bangs and fought the urge to scowl as Matteson cackled at the sight.
"What are you doing?!" she groaned as she continued to laugh. "Fine. I'll be right back."
Sivok sat and meticulously picked the crumbs from his collar, and she returned less than a minute later. "Here's your spoon. I read that Vulcan food is salty, so I really poured it on."
He snatched the utensil from her hand and spooned out a kernel, causing her to laugh again. "You look so silly eating popcorn that way…"
He glared and crunched down the extra-salty popcorn, and paused thoughtfully.
"Well?" Matteson leaned forward.
"It is…. palatable." He put his spoon back into the popcorn and continued to eat.
She smiled. "Really? There's a human food you actually like?" She burst out laughing and he went to retort, but the announcer's voice boomed over the sound system.
"It's a beautiful day here at Fleet Stadium at Starfleet Academy in San Francisco. The temperature is 20 degrees, 67% humidity, with 14 KPH flowing east to west."
"Here we go." She shifted back in her seat and picked up her nachos, crunching down one of the cheesy chips as he continued to spoon popcorn into his mouth.
"Here's the starting line up. It's not necessarily pretty, as that training accident two days ago really took a hit to the entire athletics department."
The other announcer chimed in. "I agree, this isn't their best. We'll see how it goes. It'll be Wilson to lead things off, followed by Sealer and Martinez. On first base we'll see our Bajoran, Nehler Kiva then Fuller and Davis in the field plus Martin on third. And of course, our star pair who people come kilometers to see. Starfleet Academy's only Nausicaan: Zhkaria who will be catching, along with our Vulcan pitcher Tilk on the mound."
Matteson snorted on her nachos and laughed. "Tilk is the pitcher? And a Nausicaan is catching? How did they get them to join a baseball team in the first place?"
Sivok raised an eyebrow and said nothing in reply.
They watched the stats project onto the board. "Who knew they took this so seriously…" Matteson commented.
"They do appear quite dedicated." Sivok looked around at the now almost-full seating area.
"No kidding." She eyeballed the colored fan shirts around her. Blue and red for the sciences and engineering team, The Socrates, and yellow for The Commanders.
"This is why I don't like team sports…." she mumbled.
"You are not enjoying this activity?" Sivok asked, now concerned.
She laughed. "The game hasn't even started yet. I'm sure it will be fun. I just think people get too wrapped up in it."
He nodded and returned to his popcorn, one spoonful at a time.
They both sat and watched the inning unfold. Tilk was holding The Commanders at zero, or as the announcer commented he had 'given up no runs'. Sivok wasn't surprised. Tilk had twice their hand-eye coordination and agility: what did they expect?
He continued to glance over at Matteson, becoming progressively more concerned.
Why wasn't she enjoying her time more? Wasn't that why humans attended these events? He studied the others in the crowd. They all seemed somewhat subdued, perhaps it was due to the lack of activity in the game?
The inning continued, and he noticed the teams seemingly switch positions. Tilk left the pile of dirt he had been throwing from, and disappeared into a section off the main playing area. The batter approached.
"Strike one!"
Sivok turned his head and wondered what the technicalities of the 'strike' were, now regretting not looking up the rules to the event before coming.
"Strike two!"
He glanced over at Matteson, who was watching with disinterest she was attempting to hide. Perhaps if he had a better understanding of the events around him they could at least engage in conversation.
"Strike three! You're out!"
He raised an eyebrow at the field-level announcers exaggerated phrasing and motions, which were consistent from the first section of the game.
"How many innings are there?" He leaned towards her and tested the word.
"Eh, nine, I think." She carefully scooped the cheese onto her nacho and placed it in her mouth, not even looking up to see who the next batter was.
Sivok sighed. Perhaps he should have asked Matteson if the game interested her before inviting her.
"We've got Suzanne Dillon up next to bat." The announcer called into the stadium, and Sivok watched the secluded area.
"Huh?" Matteson suddenly looked up, and smiled as a middle-aged human woman approached the area designated for batting activity.
She looked over at Sivok with a smile on her face. "Commander Dillon was my favorite science professor at the Academy. She had taken a posting, but it looks like she's back…"
Having watched many humans who were barely more than children struggle in the game, Sivok wondered if a woman in her middle years could accomplish her objectives.
Suddenly Tilk's movement caught his eye, projected onto the large screen. The young Vulcan had leaned against the fencing of the secluded area to watch his teammate play. Chambal also emerged from the shadow in the same uniform, and leaned next to him. They both glanced at each other, and she smiled, before the screen switched to the other team's area.
Sivok suppressed the feeling in his chest at watching their exchange, seemingly so intimate and yet so public. He looked over at Matteson, whose previously bored posture had perked up at her old instructor.
"Strike one!" He ignored the field and watched Matteson with interest as she balanced her nachos on her lap and stretched up to see better. Surely the fraction of centimeter such an action lifted her did not improve her vision of the game?
"Strike two!"
She sighed, frowning and fidgeting in her seat, causing him to wonder why he brought her here. She clearly wasn't enjoying it and wasn't paying any attention to him, and the once instance she was interested was making her upset.
"Time out!"
Tilk had recommended taking her to 'various recreational activities' in order to better gain her trust. The museum had been a disaster from her perspective, although Sivok still wasn't entirely sure what he had done wrong. He had spoken the truth; how could that be a crime?
But the aftermath had almost ended their acquaintance, and he wasn't willing to test it again. But if this game was also a failure, what else could he do? Sivok decided not to make the mistake of not fully researching their events again, and would put more effort into his next attempt.
After all, it was only logical to strengthen the working relationship with the one human he could tolerate. Lost in his thoughts, he realized he had been staring at her. She glanced in his direction and shifted and he quickly looked down to the floor, but not before catching her smile slightly from the corner of his eye.
What was she thinking? When she watched him closely, what was she considering? When she hesitated too long, what was holding her back? Surely she wasn't afraid of him, as the girl from the stands had been earlier.
If only he knew her true thoughts, perhaps this would all be easier.
Suddenly the crowd erupted into screaming around him, and people suddenly stood up from their seats. Matteson joined in and he stood along with her.
"Are you alright?" He grabbed her arm, and she turned towards him at the same time, and he was confused by the smile on her face.
Realizing his error, he jerked his hand away and backed up, flipping the nachos she had hastily picked up as she stood out of her hand and into his, upside down, in the process.
He clamped his eyes shut. How could this keep happening?
She laughed. "You and food today!" She took the upended nachos from him, and he looked down at the yellow liquid substance on his hands. His eyes widened as he heard her crunch, having lifted a chip from the top of the pile and stuck into her mouth.
She had just eaten food from his hands. With her hands. He had to keep his mouth from falling open.
"They still taste good." She finished he bite and cheered some more, and he finally looked at the field. The human woman had apparently hit the ball out of the confines of the park, and was running around the white squares nestled into the dirt.
The screen changed. "SOCRATES, 1; COMMANDERS, 0."
He observed the shift with curiosity, and they both sat back down on the bleachers. Suddenly, she froze. "Sivok, does this count as sharing a meal?"
He shifted and didn't reply.
"Oh Sivok, I'm so sorry. I can throw them away."
"It is of no consequence. The incident was my fault." He murmured, hardly believing his own words. What was done was done and he couldn't bring himself to attempt to reverse it.
"Well, alright." She looked over him concerned, but went back to watching the game, now with more interest than before. He was struck again with her tolerance for him and his culture, as no other human seemed to care.
He steadied himself and focused his thoughts on the game in front of him. If she would cater to him with such dedication, he would attempt the same for her.
The innings passed, with Tilk still 'holding' the other team at zero and the The Socrates scoring another two runs, bring it to 3-0.
He had kept a close eye on Matteson throughout the event, and her interest had waxed and waned. He attempted to keep her engaged by positing questions and scenarios, some of which she could answer. He was watching her when she suddenly winced.
"Ouch, that's gotta hurt."
He looked over the field, and noticed a player kneeling down to the ground, with a Starfleet medical student attending him.
The reply began on screen and he watched Tilk, who was still pitching in the 9th inning, throw the ball in the same style as always.
The ball went directly over the base, but the batter was stupidly standing far onto the white square, causing it to collide with his leg. Sivok was confused as the pitcher hobbled to the first base. He hadn't hit the ball, why was he allowed to advance?
Another batter went up, and Sivok was mildly surprised when the crowd erupted in cheering, the third time in the game when Tilk was pitching, in comparison to the many hits the Socrates had gotten, three of which became runs.
The batter had hit the ball down the line, and those on base were scrambling to catch it. But by the time it returned, the batter had advanced to first base. The next approached.
"Strike one!"
Tilk struck out two consecutive batters and the announcer predicted their victory. Sivok watched as the final batter approached the plate and steadied himself. He seemed in better physical condition than some of the older instructors.
The same events transpired again, with the ball going up the white line and each of the previous individuals on the bases advancing. Sivok watched as Tilk threw a slightly annoyed glance to the catcher, who grunted and looked away.
Were they communicating somehow throughout the game? Sivok had noticed their hand motions but wasn't sure of their significance.
"Bottom of the 9th with the bases loaded, anything can happen folks…" The announcer drolled and Matteson shifted, seemingly more interested at the increase in activity.
"They're calling in a substitution…" Sivok heard the announcer explain, and he leaned towards Matteson.
"Are you enjoying this activity?"
She smiled. "Since when do you care about enjoyment?"
He narrowed his eyes. "I do not. I am only interested in your status."
"Why?" Her grinned widened.
"I am doing… research."
"Ahh."
"I am serious. I am interested in improving our working dynamics. Enjoyment is important to humans, and as you are human, it a factor I must take into consideration."
"I see." She grinned and he attempted to suppress the confusion that rose in his chest. She didn't seem to believe him, but what did she think his true motivations were? He was telling the truth.
"Well, I am enjoying it. Sports aren't really my thing, but hanging out with you has been great. Besides, watching you dump food on yourself three times and eat popcorn with a spoon has been the highlight of my month when it comes to entertainment."
She lightly touched his arm and he looked away quickly, and she laughed. "I'm not making fun of you, Sivok."
He nodded curtly and looked forward, secretly pleased he had been the 'highlight of her month' in such a way, if not perhaps pleased with the means it was accomplished.
Analyzing the game in his head, he realized she was correct: she had been more engaged with him than the game, and something about his revelation gave him a deep sense of satisfaction he tried to ignore.
The announcer began again. "Here we go. He's one of the Academy's collegiate team's star batters, but was out for injury due the training incident. However he's feeling good and considering the stakes with the bases loaded, they're putting him in as substitute batter... here's Cadet Christopher Pike."
Sivok felt his chest constrict. The meddlesome and obnoxious cadet was involved in the event as well? He watched the smug blond cross the field and nod to Tilk, who nodded back.
"We've also got a replacement catcher. This is Ensign Peterson, who is new on the team for this season, catching with Tilk."
Matteson leaned forward, brushing against his arm. The warmth that seeped even through her clothing distracted him from his annoyance with the cadet, but the negative feelings returned when he noticed her broad smile at Pike's new status in the game.
He took in a sharp breath and stared ahead, closing his eyes and controlling his sudden influx of emotions.
"Strike one!"
Excellent.
"Strike two!"
Sivok felt his heart speed up, waiting to hear the two words once more.
The crowd began to chant Pike! Pike! Pike! Pike! He clenched his jaw. Why?
He heard the crack of the bat as the ball met it, and the entire crowd began to stand and scream. He watched as Matteson leapt to her feet, and instinctively his arm shot out and he pulled her back to the bleachers. Her stern look caused him to pull his arm back and look away.
"That ball is still in play, they're chasing it in the outfield…" The announcer explained and he watched the players run in circles, seemingly unable to catch the ball as it rolled. He shut his eyes. Humans.
The third player on base rounded the corner, evening the score. It all came down to if the insufferable cadet could make it back to home. Sivok suddenly felt involved in the game, wishing to hear the umpire yell "Out!"
He wondered if this was how the humans felt with each play. If so, considering how they chased emotion, it made sense why they enjoyed these sports so much.
Matteson continued to cheer for Pike with the rest of the crowd, perhaps more calmly as she continued to cast glances in his direction. Something about his glare seemed to be preventing her from expressing too much enthusiasm for his rival.
Sivok jolted at the thought and looked away. Rival? Pike wasn't his rival for anything. Pike did interfere in his work far too often, and he was merely a human child. He wasn't a rival.
Matteson sat back down and clapped nervously, now more focused on Sivok and his odd behavior.
"Are you okay?"
He nodded and looked back towards the field. Pike passed third and closed on home, and the ball rolled down back towards the pitcher's mound. Sivok felt his breath quicken as Tilk reached down and grabbed the ball, and Sivok's physics knowledge immediately calculated the ball would reach home before Pike did. He felt a small thrill that shamed him.
Tilk quickly grabbed the ball and threw with his full force, but faltered, seemingly noticing a mistake a fraction of a second too late. The ball spiraled towards the newly replaced human catcher and Sivok saw the human catch it and drop it.
"Ahh!" the young human shrieked, jerking up his hand. The ball rolled on the ground and Pike hit home.
"Safe!"
Sivok looked at the "home plate," where the human catcher was now holding his hand and yelling at Tilk. The crowd screamed and Matteson cheered along, as the scoreboard adjusted from 3-0 to 3-4, giving the first game of their season to The Commanders.
"The Commanders win! Let's see what happens next week when they face off gain in Starfleet's Recreational Intramural Program. We've got another 12 games between the teams this summer..."
Sivok leaned back and glowered as Matteson continued to cheer.
"Now let's talk about what happened down there." The announcer questioned, seemingly surprised. "Woah, look at that. Tilk clocked that ball at 191 KPH! Looks like the new catcher couldn't handle it!"
Sivok inhaled deeply, trying to temper his annoyance at the turn of events.
The entire outing had gone poorly. She hadn't been interested in the game, he was covered in food, he had non-consensual telepathic contact with a random human woman, and she had gone from being engaged with him to being far more enthralled with Cadet Pike, of all the people.
She turned and smiled at him. "Are you ready to go?"
He nodded briskly and stood, and they both darted away from the small stadium, leaving the Academy grounds and out onto the sidewalks of San Francisco.
"I'm going to head home." Matteson commented.
"I intend on going to work."
She laughed. "You always work."
"It is logical to do use my time to productive pursuits. Besides, the same could be said of you. I have noticed your working schedule-"
"Ah, stalking me once again," she joked.
"Don't you want to change your clothes?"
"Yes. I am going to do so now. That is why I am walking in this direction."
"I see. What did you think of the game?"
He said nothing in reply and she frowned. "Right. Me too."
"You seemed pleased at the end."
She shrugged. "I don't know much about baseball, but I know a grand slam in the bottom of the 9th to win is a big deal."
"Grand slam?"
"What Pike did."
He stiffened slightly at the mention of the cadet, and she sighed. "I know you two don't like each other…"
"I neither like nor dislike him."
She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I just-" She paused and frowned, looking up at the sky as the rain started to come down.
Sivok looked to the sky as well and wanted to groan as it quickly intensified. They dashed to cover and watched the rain in silence until she started to laugh. He tilted his head in question.
"It just keeps getting better."
"I hardly see how-"
"Sarcasm, Sivok. Anyhow, should we do this again? My apartment is right there."
She motioned her head across the street, past the intersection they had just reached. They were now a kilometer from the Academy.
He felt extremely reluctant, but glanced back to the rain and agreed to go.
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Alone, Sivok studied her small apartment once again. Her carnivorous plants were still covering the large table near the window, but the other table near the narrow kitchen was no longer littered with PADDs, but tubes and bags of sand.
He walked over towards the tubes and studied the strange mechanism. He knew it had nothing to do with the PODs but he didn't recognize the configuration.
He turned as he heard the door shut again in the back room, and Matteson plodded down the hallway, still in her wet casual wear.
"Here's my brother's spare clothes. I've washed them since you left."
"It has been months. I would assume so."
She chuckled and shook her head.
"However, I continue to appreciate your hospitality," he added.
She set the clothing down on the table and tossed the towel over his head, leaning up and ruffling it. He leaned his head forward and she smiled.
"I can hardly believe you let me get this close. I moved to dry you off last time, and you acted as if I was going to stab you."
He didn't reply and she pulled the towel down, and burst out laughing at the sight. He quickly moved up to smooth his hair back into his precise bob.
"Don't! You look more handsome this way." He felt paralyzed as she reached up and ran her hand through his hair, brushing it off to the side and pulling the bangs back, careful not to touch the skin on his forehead.
She smiled at the various designs she was combing in with her fingers, and he allowed it for a moment, but then moved back. She dropped her hands, looking disappointed.
"I must go change." He quickly turned and sped down the hall, eager to get away from their close encounter. Why had he just allowed that? Serious meditation was in order, though it always seemed to do little in regards to Matteson. But what could be done about it? Something had to change, and he wasn't referring to his clothing.
Sivok's mind automatically supplied his time left on this planet and his time around her.
One year, six months, twenty-one days, and ten hours left.
Not trusting his emotional control and wanting to avoid a situation like the last time, he stayed in her bathroom until he heard her the door to her quarters open and shut. He waited thirty more seconds to be sure and then emerged, bracing himself for whatever she could be wearing.
Such precautions turned out to be unnecessary, as she was dressed in loose-fitting pants and a shirt that exposed part of her arms but covered everything else.
She was sitting on the couch looking out the window and into the rain, and he glanced back towards the table covered in tubes.
"What is this system?"
"Water pump and filtration."
He tilted his head. "Such a fixture is not included with the apartment?"
She chucked. "Of course. It's for my fish tank."
"Fish tank?"
"Yeah," she stood up from the couch. "Want to see it?"
He nodded and followed her down the hallway, through the door past the bathroom. It had a desk on one wall which had nothing on it, a small bed, and wall of shelves with baskets, and a large glass box full of water and aquatic creatures.
"Here it is - the fish tank!" She raised her arms in dramatic display.
"It is silent."
"That's because it's a silent model. But it's been acting up lately, so I'm switching out some of the components. That's what you saw on the table."
"I see." He leaned forward and looked at the fish, one of which swam towards him.
"They're saltwater. That's a tang."
He turned his head and studied the creature.
"Do they have fish tanks on Vulcans?"
"No. At least, not in the region I am from."
"I can imagine that."
He nodded and continued to watch the creatures swim, asking her questions about the various species and their diet, habitat, and behavior, feeling comfortable with the scientific nature of his questions.
"The name is still illogical. They are not humorous; that is their natural swimming pattern."
"Well, less like a natural pattern and more due to a lack of practice. They rarely leave the reef."
"They are still not humorous. I fail to see why they are 'clowns' due to the supposed humour of their swimming style."
"Sivok, if you're going to argue each little factor of something you just learned about, I won't be able to go to the aquarium and natural science museum with you."
She smiled and he turned his head. "I was unaware we had any such plans."
"We could, next weekend. I know you didn't have the best time today, and perhaps team sports isn't our thing."
She stepped closer and he shook his head in agreement. He had no wish to ever attend such an event again.
"And while our last museum outing went terribly, I think you inviting me to a baseball game and actually going without causing a fiasco shows you're ready to go back out in true public."
"I have been in public-"
"Yeah, but something about education in public seems to bring the worst out in you."
"I was a professor at the VSA for two seasons."
"I feel for your students. Anyhow, museums are a much better fit for our personality, and if you promise not to terrorize the staff or guides, I think we should go the natural sciences museum. It's more up our alley."
"Alley?"
"Spectrum of ability or interest."
He nodded and paused, deep in thought and considering their close encounter in the front room. At least they would be in public.
"You'll also get to see better fish." She grinned and he looked into her eyes. As he always had, from their very first encounter to right now, he agreed to her request.
"Very well."
She smiled even wider. "Do you want some tea?"
"I do not care for iced tea."
"Vulcan tea."
"I thought you did not care for Vulcan tea."
"I don't. I bought it for you."
He paused. "Why?"
"It was a birthday present."
"You do not know the day of my birth."
"I was going to ask."
"I would not have told you."
She sighed and walked over to the closet in the spare room, ruffling through a bag and pulling a Vulcan-style canister out.
"Then Merry Christmas."
He turned his head at her phrase. "Explain."
"It's a traditional phrase for giving gifts."
"I understood it as a holiday."
"It's both."
He paused. "What is the correct response to the traditional gift-giving phrasing?"
"Thank you."
"Thank. You."
She laughed at his mechanical delivery and handed him the tin.
"Make it how you like it. You know where the kitchen's at."
They both stood silently for a moment, and he considered the scenario. He was back in her apartment, except this time he would not sleep here. Besides, he could hear the rain was beginning to lighten.
He began to consider the ramifications of staying longer, but disregarded the thought and abruptly left the room.
"Sivok, I-" He stopped and turned back slowly towards her, but she clamped her mouth shut at the look on his face, however subtle it was, and looked down at her feet, showing no expression.
Once again, he wondered what she was thinking. Humans made their emotions so clear - why couldn't she do so when he needed to understand her status? Why did she wish to be around him so much? Why did he wish the same?
Perhaps he could not know her motivations, but he should know his. That he did not fully understand his own actions was unacceptable as a Vulcan, a grievance he resolved to himself, not for the first time, to correct in meditation.
One year, six months, twenty-one days, and nine hours left of his two years in San Francisco, and then such questions could bother him no longer.
"Nevermind," she murmured as he sped down the hallway towards the kitchen, glancing at the menacing plants on the opposite wall and water pump spread along the table, deciding this would be his last time in her apartment.
He passed the spot where they had been when she ran her fingers through his hair, and he refused to focus his eyes on that location as he rounded into the kitchen.
They could be colleagues who worked much of the day together, and they could attend various educational-recreational events and exhibits together to build a better working relationship, as humans required. But these moments of closeness, the light touches, the incidents with food were… intolerable. They were improper in every way, and knew they needed to end.
He would go to this museum with her and would then begin the process of distancing himself on a personal level. He tried to suppress the feeling in his chest at the thought.
What if she was hurt by his actions? What if she spent her spare time with the heinous Cadet as a result? What if-
He closed his eyes and centered his thoughts, beginning to work at suppressing the related emotions. She was human. None of those things mattered.
It did not matter. It did not matter.
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Needlessly Long Author's Note: For the record, some companies really do have adult baseball teams (and other sports) they take VERY seriously, with player stats and team shirts and rivalries and everything. They tend to be close knit but of reasonable size, and I figured Starfleet counted under that. Also I have a fan theory that Vulcans like baseball: see ENT 'Carbon Creek' and DS9 'Take Me Out To The Holosuite', which also happen to be two of my favorite Vulcan-episodes ever. The Vulcan pitcher in DS9 is what I imagine Tilk looking like, by the way.
I'm sorry for the long delay! I had to go on an unexpected trip multiple states away and drag stuff back from a warehouse for my engineering work. It was a very long trip, but I managed to get a good amount of writing ahead done in the car. However, I actually had to work on the trip as well, so I haven't been replying to PMs (or even emails, for that matter). I'll try to get caught up with both reviewing and replying within the next few days, and get the new chapter edited and out.
Big thanks to TomFoolery for cleaning up my messy first drafts! If you haven't read everything they've ever written - which is an amazing amount is such a short period - you should go do so. Also thanks to everyone who reviewed, subscribed, and faved: it means a lot to me and keeps me going on it! Especially TomFoolery, Mme Fish, Golfbabe 87, RemusJ, little kinky miss feng, and tanseynz.
Please review! I love reading your messages, and it's interactive, many of your comments end up in the next chapters. :-)