A/N: Hey! This chapter is a One Shot with my OC and Spock. It is entirely out of place and way into the future, but I couldn't help but write this because I was missing my romance in the last three chapters. Hopefully you appreciate my romantic side, and my OOC Spock. Please enjoy!

A Riveting Conversation

"Mr. Spock, what is your view on the ontaris infraction? Do you think it was justified or do you think the rebels deserved the punishment they received?" I turned away from the window I had been staring out of. The view of the rose galaxy had been breathtaking. Swirling reds and oranges curled in a tight spiral, glittering with stars and planets had been the most gorgeous sight since I had first arrived on this ship. It had distracted me to the point that I had forgotten the man who had shown it to me. Mr. Spock considered the question. I went and sat down on the couch that occupied the viewing room. We had been lucky so far to not have any crew members awkwardly shutting the door, caught in the act of looking for a place to make out. I gestured for him to sit on the couch next to me, and he stood for a moment longer before joining me. I was silent, and he finally answered.

"The Ontarian rebels had been fighting for food and water for their citizens, so perhaps they were justified in that way. However, they had broken the law set forth by the federation in doing so. If they had wanted to prove a point, they would have accepted the punishment." I shifted, crossing my legs. I settled my chin onto the heel of my hand, pressing my elbow into my thigh. I always loved getting Spock's logical and straightforward opinion. His Vulcan side that was both perceiving and judgmental with no filter lead to interesting conversations that allowed me to debate with him.

"Even if the punishment is death? What if they thought the punishment too steep? How would they combat that?" I asked, reading the lines and curves of his face. He responded, unconcerned with his mind decidedly made up.

"They should have gone through the proper channels. If they were unsatisfied with the result, they could have brought it to a higher power." I smiled, and his eyebrows furrowed. "Why are you amused? Have I said something humorous?" I shook my head, unable to bring up this train of thought.

"Nothing, Spock. You weren't being humorous. I just found a cruel irony in your statement." Before he could continue his thought, I asked, "what is the usual size of a Vulcan family unit?"

Spock's face slid into his usual blank slate, a tell that I knew I had caught him off guard. He sat back in the couch, probably settling in knowing that I would be able to ask many questions along this train of thought. He glanced at me, and his eyebrow quirked. Inside, my heart began to beat a little faster, knowing that he was about to test me. Of course, it wasn't something like science or art. It was more of an evaluation of my reasoning skills. Probably to see wether or not I was competent enough to hang out with. Not that he would ever admit to hanging out with anybody. Let alone a lowly Ensign like me.

"What do you think?" He asked, his voice revealing none of his inner dialogue.

"Probably small. I'm assuming that Vulcans reproduce the same as humans, correct?" I glanced at his face to try and catch a hint of emotion since vulcans were particularly sensitive about the topic of mating. He nodded, and I could've sworn his cheeks were a bit more yellow than before. I decided to continue along this course of conversation.

"Does that mean that Vulcan females have menstrual cycles?" Spock crossed his arms and placed his ankle on his opposite knee. A common body language sign that meant that he was uncomfortable.

"Yes, they do. However, most females choose not to partake in that bodily function. Most couples generally get vitro fertilization." Spock answered.

"Do the women carry the babies in their uterus? What is the gestation period?" Spock cleared his throat and rubbed his eye, and my inner demon cackled with joy because Spock hadn't reacted this emotionally to any other questions before.

"Most women carry their children. A Vulcan's gestation period is approximately 7 months." He stood up, "I believe I should get going. Thank you for the most... interesting conversation, Ensign Cowell. I will contact you so that we can meet another time." I hurried and stood up as he began to walk out. Immediately, I began to apologize.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to run you off. Do you have to go?" He stopped and shifted his body slightly away from the door, meaning that I had a little time left with him.

"Sorry for what? We were having a discussion. I should go, however. My shift on the bridge starts in an hour." I shook my head, knowing there was no way I could convince him that the conversation was uncomfortable for him so that I needed to apologize. I could try and convince him to stay a little longer. A part of me, the prideful and indignant part, wanted me to just say good-bye and he done with him. However, the weak, simpering part craved for him to be near because like the fool I am, I had fallen in love with Mr. Spock.

I glanced at him taking in his black hair almost blue in this dim light, his ears as pointed as ever, and his hazel eyes that seemed to hold all the intelligence in the universe.

"An hour? Why would you need to leave that early?" He turned to me fully, a win on my part.

"I had a few things to take care of. Why? Do you have more questions?" At the mention of more questions, his body shifted towards the door once more. I laughed slightly,

"Yes, I do. However, these are aimed at the Vulcan's brain rather than their prenatal aspects. I would very much appreciate some more information on the species that stands before me." I smiled at him sweetly, and he blinked. He blinked! He seemed to take a moment, clearing the few emotions he had on his face.

"I can stay for another 30 minutes, and then I must go." I turned away and sat on the couch, hiding the wide smile on my face that I couldn't contain.

"How many synapses are there in the Vulcan brain?" I asked from the couch as Spock stayed standing. He stood straight, arms at his side, relaxed but looking uncomfortable to the un-trained eye.

"Over 6 quintillion." He said simply. I gasped.

"Really?! Wow! That's a couple billion more than a human! No wonder Vulcans are so smart!" Spock stood a little straighter, his chest slightly rising.

"Yes, that could attribute to the Vulcans intelligence." I laughed slightly, his pride in the species that made up half his DNA was absolutely adorable.

"How many nerve endings does a vulcan have?" I continued along the lines of the neurological system. Spock thought for a moment before saying,

"Approximately 900 billion." I sat back in my chair, slightly astonished at this new information when a thought came to me.

"Does that mean..." I hesitated, the rest of the question on my tongue.

"Yes, Ms. Cowell?" Spock asked, cocking his head slightly as if confused I was hesitating.

"Does that mean you feel more than humans do?" I grabbed his hand. "Like this? Does it make you uncomfortable because of the closeness or the actual sensation?" He stared at me, his face a blank mask.

"Vulcans do not feel uncomfortable. That is a human emotion." I huffed, slightly annoyed at the phrase 'that is a human emotion.' I had heard it way too many times before. I stood up, almost chest to chest with him, his hand still in mine.

"I didn't ask if Vulcans felt uncomfortable. I asked if you felt uncomfortable." I looked him in his green eyes, staring into my own. He hid so much behind them that was impossible to read. He had a barrier up, and there was only so much body language could tell me. "How does it feel when I hold your hand?" I asked, softer than a whisper. I knew he would hear with his enhanced hearing.

"Warm." He replied quickly, his hand momentarily squeezing mine before he let go and turned. "I must go-"

"What is it like to not touch anybody? Trapped in the prison of your emotionless customs?" He turned, and I caught a flicker of something behind his eyes. I ran to him and threw my arms around his neck. In the few moments I knew I had before he threw me off, I kissed Science Officer Spock, half-Vulcan and half-human. I tried to convey the depth and breadth of my feelings that burned within me: the red flame that burned me body and soul and had kept me up countless nights, the orange flame that burned constant fueled by his intelligence and wit, the cool blue flame that knew he would never love me back, and the white hot coals that burned me from the core every time I thought of this man. My feelings were a nebula of ever shifting stars that spun around the knowledge that this was going to end badly, and I was going to be consumed by the darkness of spurned love, but right now, in this exact moment, I knew that there was no way that I could stop this force that pulled me so strongly to him. So I kissed him.

Slowly, I came back to the ground and realized I was still here. My lips pressed against his. I drew back and saw something I couldn't believe. In his eyes, a fire had been lit, a small ember that backlit his eyes making them shine a bright green like the aurora in the night sky. I slowly brought my arms down from around his neck and down his chest.

We stood there for long moments, just looking into each other's eyes, trying to figure out and make sense of the energy that had passed between us. Mr. Spock finally spoke, in a tone than I had ever thought he was capable of.

"I would like to pursue a relationship with you, Ensi- Riley. I had been considering this possibility earlier, and this occurrence makes the chances of a successful match more likely." A shiver ran through my body as he said my first name for the first time.

"I would love that, Mr. Spock." I frowned at him, realizing I didn't even know his first name. "What is your first-"

"It's impossible to pronounce for humans." He interrupted me for the first time. I nodded and stepped away from him. A sudden chill swept my body as I moved away from him. "I will be in contact with you. I have found this visit most agreeable. Now, I must leave."

He turned from me, but before he left me, he glanced back a moment, a hint of a smile in his eyes that said more than any words he could speak.