Chapter Eight

There was hardly any light when Zuria finally awoke. This was fact that she was thankful for; she had a splitting headache, and too much light would have only made it worse.

What happened last night? She wondered, pressing her hand against her forehead, sitting up. She looked down, realizing that she wore one of Pallania's dresses.

Uh-oh.

Wincing, Zuria stood from her bed, nearly tripping over a pair of boots that lay discarded on the floor. She groaned, picking up the boots and throwing them onto Pallania's bed; from the looks of them, they could only be hers.

Zuria carefully moved to the bathroom, now grateful for the small bit of light that the computer provided, even when all other lights were off. She looked in the mirror, squeezing her eyes shut after gazing at herself. Her hair was a mess, and the remnants of last night's make-up still traced the lids of her eyes. Turning on the faucet, she splashed her face several times with ice-cold water, patting her skin dry with a towel after she was done. She then picked up her brush, tugging it through her hair several times before tying it back into a ponytail; the quickest solution, as always.

Exiting the bathroom, she returned to her room. For a moment, she considered changing out of the tight black dress that clothed her and into something normal; her uniform, anything other than the dress. However, she felt a pang in her stomach that told her changing could wait until after she'd eaten something.

Stepping out of her bedroom, Zuria found that the rest of the apartment was mostly dark as well. Something went on here, she thought, furrowing her eyebrows. It smelled as though someone had been cooking with cinnamon.

Zuria's suspicion caused her to travel into the living room. Her breath caught in her throat; someone sat cross-legged on her sofa. Squinting, she almost gasped and ran back into her room when she deciphered who it was.

Spock. It was Spock that sat before her, meditating.

Oh, shit.

The sight of him brought back her memory of the night before; going to a club with Pallania, consuming too many Cardassian Sunrises, leaving the club, Spock escorting her home, and her expressing her like of his ears and eyes; she was sure that she would have expressed much more had she not passed out cold.

"Computer, lights; dimmed to forty percent." Spock's voice came, making everything all the more real. The lights turned quickly on, though, per Spock's command, were dimmed significantly, making it easier on Zuria's headache.

Opening his eyes, Spock uncrossed his legs, standing.

"Good morning." He greeted, clasping his hands together in front of him.

"Morning," She replied, her voice thick with sleep. "So… why are you here? Not in a rude way, of course." She inquired, clarifying the terms of her question.

"You were highly intoxicated, Zuria. It would not have been logical for me to leave you alone without anyone to assist you, should you have had need." He explained.

"Oh." She acknowledged. "Thank you."

"Your thanks are welcome, but unneeded. I simply chose to do what seemed best." He assured her, taking several steps forward.

"The cinnamon…?" She began, trailing off.

"I have prepared breakfast for you. I assume that you are hungry?" He asked, gaining a nod in response. They moved to the kitchen, where Spock had made what appeared to be French toast. The computer had kept the food warm. A fork, a knife, and a glass of orange juice all sat to the side of the plate, waiting for her.

"This time, I believe that thanks are required." Zuria said, incredibly grateful to him for being so thoughtful.

"I accept them." He returned, picking up her plate and silverware and transferring it to the kitchen table. Zuria picked up the orange juice glass, setting it down next to the plate. Both of them sat down, and she began to cut into her food.

The first bite came as a shock to her. This was not normal French toast. It was spicy, hot, and sweet; one of the best things she'd ever tasted.

"What is this?" She questioned after swallowing.

"It is a Vulcan version of what I believe is called French toast to you." He answered, his lips curved upwards only slightly.

"It's amazing." She said, cutting another piece.

"Again, I thank you."

The rest of the time passed relatively quietly as Zuria was eating, due partly to her recalling the previous night with both excitement and shame. I touched his ear, she thought, and his neck.

After finishing her breakfast, Zuria felt considerably better. Standing, she carried all of her things to the sink, rinsing them before putting them into the dishwasher.

"Um… Spock?" She started, cutting through the silence.

"Yes, Zuria?"

She looked down, exhaling before continuing. "I'm so sorry. I wish that you hadn't needed to see me drunk."

"Truly, there is no need to apologize. I am sure that it was not your intention to intoxicate yourself." He assured her. It didn't seem to help much, however, so he added: "To be honest, you are the most pleasant drunken person that I have ever encountered." He told her in a voice that sounded very lightly teasing.

Yeah, I'm sure. I bet that's because you've never had a drunken person come on to you before.

"Well, I'm glad, then." She responded, forcing a smile onto her lips. This was where the discussion would end, she hoped.

It was, thankfully.

"Would you like me to correct the assignments that I delivered to you yesterday?" Spock asked, standing from the table.

"No," She replied, shaking her head. "I'll do them. You've done enough for me already. I'll get them to you this evening." She promised.

"Zuria, I do not want you to strain yourself to do this task. You have been very helpful to me as my aide, and if you are not up to-"

"Please," She cut in, raising a hand up. "I can do it. It's just one homework assignment that I need to correct."

There was a brief pause between them before he finally spoke.

"Are you certain?" He questioned, gazing at her with what appeared to be concern.

"Yes. Don't worry about me; you've taken excellent care of me; I'm fine." She reassured him. He nodded slowly.

"Very well, then." He said, moving out of the kitchen. She followed him to the door, standing by as he gathered his things. "I will see you this evening."

"Spock," Zuria began, placing a hand softly on his chest, preventing him from leaving for several moments. "Thanks again. I would probably be asleep on the ground somewhere if it wasn't for you."

Spock glanced down, covering her hand with his. "You are welcome." He said for a final time before pulling her hand from him, placing it by her side. With a bow of his head, he stepped from the room, moving swiftly down the hallway.

Zuria stood, frozen in place as she watched him walk away. Why couldn't evening come sooner?

Hey guys!

Wow. I don't know what's happening with all these speedy updates; I guess it's just that it's summer. Either way, I'm feeling good about getting them done so quickly!

The next chapter will probably be up tomorrow, the way I'm going now. And, if things keep going as I've planned with the story, it should be a very enjoyable one. Hehe.

Thanks to everyone that has review thus far. I must again say that reviews and messages are truly incentive for me to continue writing (aside from the fact that writing is fun, of course).

Hope you enjoyed the chapter! More to come soon, I promise.

Thanks,

Harley