Finally, the day had come. Arietta had not quite expected her response so soon, otherwise there might have been more pacing, whining, and possibly drinking involved. T'Lin was determined to ignore her and spent swaths of time meditating, which had only aggravated Arietta's anxiety further.
She had tucked an earpiece in her ear and was blaring the same song on repeat, eyes scrunched closed, trying desperately to pass a few more hours before her madness would again drive her out of doors, this time into the dismal grey mist. She did not hear the door chime.
In fact, she did not hear the door chime five times, until T'Lin rose from her meditation space, padded silently to the door, allowed it to open with a whooshing squeak, and then turned on her heel and resumed her previous position. Arietta hastily pulled the earpiece out of her ear and tumbled off her bed, reflexively tugging at the hem of her sweater.
The gentleman who stood before her carried a single, old-style paper envelope in his hands. He thrust this at Arietta, and then moved off down the hall wordlessly.
"Thank you?" Arietta called after him. She turned, staring at the envelope.
"It would be unbelievably illogical of you to stand there and stare at that envelope for the next twenty minutes before opening it, as I am already aware you will do. Please open it, so that I may resume my daily schedule without your incessant interruption." T'Lin interjected from her place, cross legged on the floor. Arietta's face flushed slightly, and she turned the envelope over in her hands.
She stood, thumb poised to tear open the seal. She knew that T'Lin had a point. There was no sense in prolonging her agony over whether she would spend the next year on the Enterprise or at the Academy, but she still couldn't help hesitating. She was at the top of her class, and her professors had been pleased at the research she had chosen for her thesis: an experimental use of holodeck simulation programs as a method for direct human interface with computers. However, she had not made nearly as much progress as she had hoped. Her thesis paper merely proved that this was possible, but she had not made meaningful strides in actually implementing the technology. The current holodeck simulation programs were too clunky and cumbersome to support a fully-realized physical representation of the inner processes of a computer. She worried that this lack of progress would leave her Earthbound for another year, wading through technology that was largely ignored by Starfleet as useful for training purposes and pleasure only.
Finally, she tore open the envelope, heart pounding. What a way to deliver important information, she thought as the seconds began grinding into infinity. Tear open the thing, unfold the paper, read through the scrawly writing. Why could this not have been sent directly to her PADD? One click and she'd know.
She suddenly became aware that even her thoughts were procrastinating, and that she was still staring blankly through the unfolded sheet of paper. She fingered the creases, unfolded the paper.
"I… passed?" She breathed, disbelievingly. T'Lin, pretending to ignore her in the corner, sighed, inwardly relieved.
"I PASSED!" She shouted, flinging the paper in the air. She seized the Vulcan by the wrist and yanked her off the floor into a crushing hug. At length, she remembered that her roommate was not… emotionally equipped to deal with her celebratory embrace, and she released her, crimson-faced.
"Oh." She murmured, gazing at a tense and disheveled T'Lin. "I… forgot."
"It is irrelevant. I am… pleased that you have succeeded in your goal." T'Lin adjusted her sweater and brushed a stray strand of short, dark hair from her eyes. "It is… refreshing… to see you behaving more like yourself."
"I just can't believe it. I thought for sure I'd be stuck here another year. I mean… Not that I don't want to be here…" The words were tumbling, unbidden, from her.
"I understand." T'Lin responded. "I have grown accustomed to your presence as my roommate as well. However, I, too, will be departing after graduation. I have accepted a position on New Vulcan, to attempt to integrate our traditional practices and technologies into a relatively new landscape."
"That's fantastic! We should celebrate." Arietta smiled.
"As I am certain you are aware, after living alongside me for the past four years, Vulcans do not 'celebrate'. However, as I have viewed our ongoing relationship as an exchange of cultural practices, I realize that I have not accepted your ways as readily as you accept my own. It is perhaps… 'late in the game' as you would put it, but I would be willing to take part in your celebration, as we may not see each other for some time after graduation."
"Perfect. Get dressed, I'm starving." Arietta replied, already digging through her wardrobe.
The plan was simple enough. Troll the dormitory hallways until a suitable pack of females could be found, and then descend upon the nearest commissary, restaurant, or bar like a swarm of ravenous locusts, overloading replicators with requests for hot fudge sundaes, jalapeno poppers, and other generally-fattening but unbelievably-satisfying delights, followed by a trip off-campus to sample a last taste of that devil liquor and hours of dancing before being jettisoned off-world for god-knows-how-long.
To that end, Arietta found that she and her companions were successful. T'Lin watched, somewhat disparagingly, as Arietta lost herself in a plate of nachos, and then continued to observe, eyebrows raised so that she was certain (though logic dictated otherwise) that they might eventually stick that way. At length, Arietta convinced her to sample the smallest taste of Terran Gin (it never ceased to confound her that they were willing to drink something that tasted of pine tar), and join in the 'celebration'.
Arietta found herself on the dance floor with dozens of other freshly liberated cadets. She found she had drunk just enough to be pleasantly floaty, and was drifting through her friends, catching snippets of conversation here and there.
It was then that her ears, everywhere at once, picked up on the barely audible strains of a voice at the other end of the bar. She felt as though she had had a bucket of cold water dumped over her head. She floated over to T'Lin and ducked behind her, grabbing her by the arm.
"What are you doing?" T'Lin asked, attempting to shake her off.
"I cannot possibly make any worse of an impression than I already have." Arietta hissed, jerking her head in the direction of the voices. T'Lin cocked an eyebrow and followed her gaze.
"Ordinarily, I would tell you that your behavior is unfounded, however, in this instance, perhaps your instinct is correct. It appears that Commander Spock is speaking with Captain James Kirk, your impending commanding officer."
"Fabulous." Arietta winced. "Maybe I can just hide in the bathroom until they leave?"
"I believe you will be… hiding… for a long time. It appears Captain Kirk may have just purchased another drink."
"So much for my evening…" Arietta mumbled. At that moment, her classmate Stephanie Chan beelined for her, grinning broadly.
"Guess who bought me a drink?" She asked brightly.
"It cannot possibly be…"
"Your commanding officer!" She squealed.
"Well, that's fantastic." Arietta said darkly. "After only two and a half years of trying to catch his eye too…"
"Come and meet him!" Stephanie urged, seizing Arietta by the arm and yanking her away.
Arietta had another 30 feet to compose herself. Twenty-five… Twenty… She stumbled over the foot of a young cadet whose dancing was beginning to spiral out of control. Ten… She was having a difficult time controlling her breathing, and her heart began pounding in her ears. Five… Jim Kirk was eyeing the pair. She straightened and tried to clear her throat.
"Hi Jim…" Stephanie was cooing. "I thought you'd like to meet…"
"Arietta Knight. …Sir." Arietta was standing ramrod-straight, extending a hand, trying not to let her attention drift to the Vulcan quietly sipping water at his side. Kirk smiled broadly.
"Relax." He took her hand, warmly. Arietta swayed on the spot.
"She's…"
"I'm sorry. I'm just a little overwhelmed by this week." Arietta apologized.
"Understandable. Can I buy you a drink? Take the edge off?"
"I…" she began.
"She'd love it. You like Gin, right, honey?" Stephanie was hovering, motheringly, all the while shooting doe-eyes at Kirk.
"I guess another gin and tonic couldn't hurt, right?" Arietta sighed.
"Enjoy it while you can, ladies." Kirk smiled. "Unless you're this one."
He gently elbowed Spock who responded with a single raised eyebrow.
"I do not feel the need to… indulge… on such an occasion as this, Captain." Spock replied.
"For heaven's sake, Spock, I don't plan on being your captain again for another week. You *can* call me Jim." He wasn't looking at Spock, however, but instead flagging down the bartender. After a moment, he placed a glass in Arietta's hands, and practically pushed one into Spock's.
"Captain…" he protested.
"A toast." Kirk grinned, ignoring him. "To a new graduating class."
Arietta smiled. Perhaps this was not going to be as horrifically awkward as she had imagined.
"Cheers." She squeaked, clinking glasses with the others. As she sipped her drink, she watched Spock gaze, somewhat regrettably, at his own before closing his eyes and drinking deeply. Perhaps her irrational fear that he might be inwardly hiding some deep offense of her truly was unfounded. She took another sip and allowed the room to begin gently swirling around her again.
Somewhere within this moment, Kirk finally asked Stephanie to dance, an offer which she squealingly accepted, nearly dragging him off to the dance floor. Arietta's heart sank and, for a moment, she contemplated pawing at Stephanie, begging her friend not to abandon her. Instead, she stared intently at the wedge of lime bobbing about in her glass.
"I am unsure how any of you willingly consume something that tastes like pine tar." Spock said casually. Arietta looked up. He was swirling the ice around his glass, somewhat disdainfully, but Arietta noticed that it was otherwise empty.
"A gin and tonic is a distinguished beverage." She said, as her floaty, swirly feeling intensified with a lurch. "For when you want to be distinguishingly plastered."
"I would recommend you do not finish that." Spock said gently.
"What else am I going to do with it?" Arietta asked, dumbly.
"Perhaps you would be inclined to dance with me?"
"Vulcans don't dance." Arietta sputtered. "I came here with five of them, and look. Clustered in a corner drinking water. They're only here because I made them."
"Do humans not dance?" He asked quietly. "I am, after all, half-human, and quite capable of dancing, if you are inclined. If you do not wish it, I will not be offended."
"What the hell, I'm sure I won't remember this in the morning anyway." She set her drink on the bar, perhaps a bit too carefully, and allowed him to lead her onto the floor.
Arietta wasn't sure what she expected, or even if she had expected anything at all, but if she had expected something, it certainly was not what she was presented with. As he had stated, Spock was capable of dancing, more capable than she would have guessed. She was so busy being impressed with the fact that he could keep rhythm and her own fear of drunkenly falling over that she didn't realize that he was going out of his way to avoid any contact with her that did not occur through a uniform sleeve or shoulder. Not that this would have surprised her in any fashion since, living with a Vulcan, she was well aware of their distaste of physical contact, particularly with those of other species. She was also unaware that Kirk had stopped dancing with a pouting Stephanie and was now standing nearby and cheering on his shipmate gleefully. It did, however, occur to her suddenly that though she had several Vulcan friends, she couldn't recall another occasion in which she had interacted with a male Vulcan before. It seemed to her that the vast majority of those remaining at Starfleet Academy were female. She tried to peer up at him, objectively, only to find him studying her, expression neutral, in return. Her first instinct was to break away, blushing furiously, but she pushed this down, returning his gaze levelly for just a moment.
It was just then, as Kirk had let out an uproarious cheer, that the cadet whom Arietta had tripped over earlier came drunkenly flailing through, still hell-bent on dancing to whatever beat was swirling in his own head. He continued straight into Arietta's trajectory and then collided, sending her sprawling.
Spock was busy watching Arietta. He had simply noted that her ability to shift with the rhythm of each song was impeccable. He had been prompted to do a lot of ruminating about this young woman for some weeks now. He recalled Admiral Pike requesting the presence of himself and Kirk one afternoon. He was requesting recommendations to fill an open position on the Enterprise. He recalled Jim quickly rattling off a list of perhaps 10 women, all of whom appeared to have been chosen based upon physical appearance, several of whom were not even Computer Sciences majors. Pike had sighed, his fondness for Jim overriding the urge to tell him off, and turned to Spock, requesting his own recommendations.
"I have but one which also aligns with the list supplied to you by Captain Kirk. Therefore, logically, I do not believe we have need to further discuss…" he had begun, before Pike cut him off.
"Spock." Pike said patiently, "I asked you for your recommendations. All of them, please."
He had gone on to detail three or four possible candidates. His final recommendation was Arietta.
"She is at the top of her class, Admiral, and I believe she would be an asset to our vessel." He had concluded.
"But what does she look like?" Kirk had asked with a smile.
"Kirk, just because you ignored my advice and conducted your research at the bar instead of the registrar's office…" Pike had begun.
"I have only seen her identification photo, but I am unsure why that would be of importance." Spock had replied pointedly.
"Look, I know you're both a little… skeptical of my methods of assessment, but you do realize that we are all stuck together, right? I just want to make sure anyone we bring aboard can keep up with the cool kids, that's all."
Pike had worn an expression akin to incredulity at that moment, before composing himself and turning to Spock.
"Commander, I find your argument not only compelling, but also far more sensical than anything else I have heard in this room today. Please track down Cadet Knight and inform her of my decision."
His research of her records was one thing, actually informing her of the Admiral's choice was another. She had been moody and somewhat irrational, behavior he had observed in other humans nearing final exams each semester. Despite this, he found himself drawn to finding out more than her austere school records could tell. Jim had, after all, made a valid point, no matter how cloaked in arcane political incorrectness it had been. She would be serving with what was already an established crew, complete with friendships and personal relationships. She would have to be able to navigate these waters to find her own place among them. By the time he had left her alone by San Francisco Bay, he was convinced she would be fine.
As this thought began to fade from his mind, and the music again began filtering into his consciousness, his reverie was suddenly interrupted by a cadet who had clearly indulged far too much.
The next morning, Arietta would swear to anyone who would listen that the next few milliseconds happened in slow motion. As she pitched forward, Spock shot out a hand to catch her by the arm. But he didn't catch her by the arm. He caught her by one flailing hand, and then everything was silence. Arietta didn't feel floaty and swirly anymore. She felt as though she had stuck a fork in a toaster, the kind her grandmother still used back home. Spock, on the other hand, began feeling most unpleasantly swirly. He felt her intoxication, and behind it, perhaps, a niggling of something else. A shock, as though he were petting a cat on a winter day, nothing so significant he would ordinarily take notice, but then, it occurred to him that perhaps this was not so ordinary. He pulled her to her feet.
"Are you unhurt?" He inquired.
"I'm fine, thanks." Arietta replied, mystified. "That was a hell of a shock."
"You experienced that as well?" He asked, eyes suddenly searching her face.
"That asshole running over me? You're kidding right?" She replied dryly.
"…Ah." He hoped, in the dim lighting, that she could not see him flushing slightly green. Her swirling buzz had invaded his mind as surely as it had taken absence of hers, and he simultaneously worked to suppress any hint of embarrassment from the apparent misunderstanding. "I believe it is time for me to depart. Thank you for joining me."
"I am… honored." Arietta replied, suddenly stone-cold sober and hoping he would appreciate her attempt at politeness. He did not respond, but turned quickly and retreated through the crowd. It was only then that Arietta seemed to realize that the world had returned to full volume and speed.