One toffee flavored coffee bean. Two toffee flavored coffee beans. Three toffee flavored coffee beans, four.
There were only so many constants in Harriet's life. A loving family defined by blood relations certainly wasn't one of them but a loving family defined by lasting and loyal friendships was. Losing Teddy, Luna, George, Hermione, Neville, and Ron in a single blink without a chance to say goodbye or send a letter had hurt. It had hurt beyond hurt. It had hurt in a way that only losing Sirius, Remus, Fred, and the long long list of other self-defined family members had hurt. But that too, in a way, was a constant in Harriet's life.
Now, there is another constant in Harriet's life: change. She has a new home, a new job, new coworkers, a new moonlighting gig as a healer to satisfy her saving people thing, and apparently a new flavor of magic. Magic that liked her shiny new Vulcan too. [Spock magic! *snicker*]
Her shiny new Vulcan who decided he really was a Star Fleet Officer and needed to disappear for six months, in space of all places. SPACE.
Five toffee flavored coffee beans. Six toffee flavored coffee beans. Seven toffee flavored coffee beans, more.
She wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. She was attached. She honestly wasn't quite sure why. They barely knew each other!
Yet she was terrified she would lose him too.
"Enough!"
Harriet blinked owlishly at her employer. And it really was owlishly. She was wearing a pair of personality glasses that she was certain previously belonged to Trelawney.
"That's it. Out. I want you out. Take off your apron, go clock out, And. Get. Out!"
"Huh? But why?" The lunch rush at the café was over, sure, but there was still the afternoon pick me up crowd. Not to mention her coffee bean counting. There were always more coffee beans to count… to smell… to admire…
"I can't take another minute of you counting coffee beans! Not one!" The owner closed her eyes and visibly tried to collect herself. "Now either tell me what's bothering you or go take a hike and work it out of your system. Angela can cover for you." Harriet winced. Was she really that obvious? [yes.] And really, ANGELA? She didn't know dark roast from light if you didn't label it for her. 'I mean, they're so different. Merlin, the smells alone -
"Apron, off. Now." The owner had her hands on her hips now. 'oops.' "Angela will be here in 20 anyway."
Harriet sighed and slid off her bar stool. It was always only a matter of seconds before she caved under that look.
"The only real friend I've made since I've moved here was sent off with the military last week." She stretched. "I guess I'm just not sure what to do with myself."
"Well, here's an idea – go talk to that boy Ben down at Joe's." Harriet made a face but took off her apron anyway. "He's a nice young man, a doctor at that, and perfectly capable of keeping up with you – and not Vulcan."
Harriet winced. She knew her coworkers thought she was being standoffish but she really just wasn't interested in getting to know them. It had nothing to do with them personally. Harriet just wasn't a college hopeful, she wasn't a 20 something up and up on whatever the latest fashion was, she didn't know the lingo (and didn't want to), and she had reflexes and habits that she just couldn't explain. She just didn't fit.
Mrs. Thurston, however, was older. Not in a Mrs. Weasley way, but in a 'there's more to life than shallow pursuits' older.
Like getting a husband if you weren't going to at least attempt to get a college degree and planned on completely wasting your potential. And apparently, she knew she had potential, although how was a mystery. 'I'm losing my touch. Then again, maybe the whole Vulcan supposed best friend was the give away.'
"I'm not interested in boys." Harriet tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She was wearing bottle cap earrings today; they kept catching at her hair…
"Then talk to his sister Mairi." Harriet nearly choked. "She's just as nice and just as intelligent." Cough. "and Not Vulcan." As if she were interested in SPOCK! 'Not like that anyway.'
"I'm sure she is. Doesn't change the fact I'm just not interested in dating anyone, boy, girl, or Vulcan."
"It's the military lad then? That Vulcan, right? He's Star Fleet, right? Well, does he have any grand plans, aspirations?" She didn't give Harriet a chance to answer. "Doesn't matter. I know darn well he has access to a PADD! So go video message him, if you're so hung up."
"I'm not hung up." Clue one: uncalled for levels of defensiveness. "He's Star Fleet. I just didn't realize I'd…"
"miss him? Exactly. So? What does counting coffee beans have to do with it?" Mrs. Thurston – and, yes, she would always be Mrs. Thurston – sighed. "Look, dear, I know you're different than other girls your age but you're moping like any other teenager would -"
"Moping!"
" – and you really just need to get out there and do something about it! Or try something new, distract yourself!"
"Do something about what? He's just a friend!" Clue number two: Teenage angst. [Shouldn't it be denial?]
She was treated to another look.
"And what types of things do the two of you do together?" Harriet gave her a confused glance, made all the more comical and innocent by the shear SIZE of her eyes with those Trewlawnies. [Trademark?]
Mrs. Thurston sighed and moved to make them both a cup of coffee. As the drip brewed, Harriet took the hint and sat on a stool on the other side of the bar. It wasn't until both of them were done with their first appreciative sips that Harriet finally spoke up.
"We meet for tea." She smiled at Mrs. Thurston's raised eyebrow. "Yea, I know, I know, but for some reason he doesn't like caffeine. I thought it had something to do with coffee at first and nearly had a heart attack but then I realized he always orders un-caffeinated teas…It's probably a Vulcan thing…"
Coffee was calm.
"I was thinking of maybe introducing him to decaf, as terrifying as that is."
Coffee was safe.
"I think I miss him."
Coffee was constant.
Clue three: so was Spock.
It has been approximately six Earth months since Spock had met the woman (not girl) named Harriet and approximately 3 Earth months since he reported for duty on the Artemis as Third. Spock was genuinely concerned, and this worried him. Of course, he didn't know he was concerned or that he was worried. He was a Vulcan. He was part Human too, but he was also a Vulcan Vulcan and concern and worry didn't often register as such. No, it registered as a control issue. He was slipping, he was dealing in approximates. Perhaps he was ill.
Spock abruptly [but not] turned on his heel and took a direct path to Sick Bay.
Perhaps his long exposure to Harriet – the anomaly – had affected his immune system? No, he would have noticed before now. Surely. He had carefully analyzed and annotated each of their encounters. There was nothing to suggest she had infected him. [scoff, infected you? With what? Does it even register how this could be construed?]
However, there was the slim possibility that she had. It was best if he reported to Sick Bay.
"You're fine Lieutenant. Any particular reason you would think otherwise?"
Spock was quiet for a moment. Did he have an obligation to report Harriet to his superiors? Technically, she was still a wanted person. She certainly was not human as he knew it. He was certain she wasn't a betazoid or any other humanoid species he could think of. But if she was not entirely human, then what was she?
She was harmless. Well, she was harmless in the same way a Vulcan was harmless. He did not doubt she could be capable of excessive and deadly force if pushed to it. For now, however, she was not being threatened and therefore had no reason to perceive him or Starfleet as a threat. He had worked diligently to lead her toward that perception. It would be imprudent to compromise the trust or respect she had for him. [or you for her]
"Just a precaution Doctor. I did not adjust as quickly to this voyage as I was expecting." He gave a perfunctory nod and headed out of Sick Bay.
He clearly recalled the way Harriet's presence brushed against his during each meeting. It was a sensation akin to the earliest touches of a mind meld, that moment just before contact was fully initiated. Perhaps, this is what was throwing his body rhythms off, this lack of consistent exposure? Was this a side affect of interacting with her so regularly? If so, what of others who were exposed to her presence? Did she interact regularly with others? She traded in alternative medicine: were her patients affected in a similar manner?
Spock's mind was becoming cluttered. How unusual. He would need to speak with his father on this matter. No, part of the problem was rooted in a human, it would best to seek advice from both his parents.
…
However, it would perhaps be prudent to speak with his mother first.
"Greetings, Mother."
"Greetings, my son, I am honored to hear your voice after so long."
"Your consent to hear me honors me, I thank you for your time."
"The same to you my son. Now, tell me about this trouble you are having."
"I am uncertain mother."
"Well, that is certainly unusual. But what is it that you are uncertain about?"
"The reasons for which I am uncertain. Over the last few months, I have experienced increased bouts of uncertainty and I do not understand the logic of it."
"Do you not? Surely you have some idea of the source of this uncertainty if you chose to speak with me first and not your father."
A brief pause, then: "I believe my uncertainty is centered around a human female that I encountered some months past."
Amanda BEAMED.
"Is that so, my son? Young females often inspire uncertainty in males. I am still uncertain as to why you have brought this issue to me and not your father." She knew why. [grandkids, come onnnnnn, grandkids!]
"As a human female yourself, I found it appropriate to seek a logical explanation from you first, Mother." [O, come on! How oblivious can you get?! She wants grandkids, like, today! Chop chop!]
"Describe that which needs an explanation Spock and I will do my best to provide one."
"I am… uncertain how to describe it Mother – it is more a lack of clarity, of control… it is … emotional in nature." [Bless your soul, Amanda – so calm, so cool!]
"Then I must ask what you are feeling Spock?" Silence. "What is it Spock?"
"I don't understand the question, Mother."
"You're half human Spock. It is natural that you may possess these types of emotional responses."
"I find the question irrelevant Mother. I am a Vulcan. I have done my best to follow the Vulcan philosophy and a way of life that is logical and beneficial. "
"It is not irrelevant when you're human too Spock. Let that part of you come through."
Spock remained silent.
"Perhaps, Spock, you might take this opportunity to develop a friendship with this young lady. A true friendship. It is both logical and beneficial to further your network of human relations after all."
Another brief silence. "It is as you say mother. Dif tor heh smusma."
"Peace and long life, my son."
Captain Daniels was amused. He was certain his Third was having some form of withdrawal. It was difficult to tell but you didn't spend this much time in an enclosed space with no where to go and not learn something about your crew members.
The best part was, the Lieutenant didn't even realize it. Heavens, the poor Vulcan. Whoever this girl was, she was working miracles and probably didn't even know it.
Lieutenant (j.g.) Donahue looked around the small café before moving toward a small table. He still couldn't believe he was here. Yet sure enough, there she was. A petite young woman, loose, flowing clothing, dark unruly curls pinned and braided into place, tan skin, leather satchel, and bottle cap earrings. The fact that Spock, SPOCK, had given him a list of her earning choices, and had been right, was somehow both typical and absurd. Actually, this whole thing was absurd.
"Excuse me, are you Harriet?" The young woman – 'early twenties maybe?' – turned her head from the window, gaze slightly distant. "I have a package for you from LT. Spock. He asked me to give it you, said I might find you here."
Harriet's eyes widened slightly in surprise before eyeing the Uniform and the package. Constant Vigilance!
"Come again?"
"Ha. Right, I thought the whole thing was strange. Look, I apologize it was probably just some joke –"
"No, wait, I know Spock, I just wasn't expecting anything from him." She narrowed her eyes, "he's away at the moment."
Donahue did not hide his surprise well. "Oh, well, yes, but he sent me a message and asked if I could deliver this for him?"
Harriet raised an eyebrow. 'sure, he did.'
"Well, actually, he said something else but the point was he needed something delivered and we knew each other well enough that he trusted me to do it for him." Donahue was visibly nervous at this point.
She blinked at him for a moment before taking the package. 'O, definitely black mail. Go, Spocky, go!'
"Well, do you know what it is?"
"It's a PADD."
"It's already on."
"Yes, well, ah, he also had me set it up so you can contact him." Awkward, so awkward. "I can show you how to use it if you like?" Since when did SPOCK need a wingman?! And WHO THE HELL DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO USE A PADD!?
"No, but thank you." Donahue, nervously rubbed a hand through his hair.
"Right, well, if you need any help with it, just comm me. I've included my contact info as well."
She nodded her head in a way so Spock like, it was mildly unnerving. Then he fled, the gossip following almost visibly in his wake.
Prompts: If chips are to Chouji as shoji is to Shikamaru, what is coffee to Harriet and Spock? Can they even be compared?; It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine; Use the phrase 'Spock Magic!'
