Chapter 8

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When I woke up the next morning, I felt uncommonly good about myself and went down to breakfast as usual. I had just sat down with my food when I felt two pairs of eyes on me. My suspicion was proven correct when I saw Mitchell approaching me with a familiar face. This guy, I took it, was the guy I had seen him laughing with on our first day on the ship. He had jet-black hair that looked almost purple in the light, bright green eyes, and an overall playboy look about him that didn't quite sit well with me.

But as I looked closer, I saw something else that didn't quite sit well with me.

Though his eyes were different than Mitchell's, this guy's face was also chiseled like Mitchell's was. Almost in exactly the same way. A chill ran down my spine. I was exaggerating things, I had to be.

All the same, my hands started shaking.

"Nice to see you again, Mitchell. Who's the friend?" I asked in as rough as a voice as I could to mask the fear that had dripped into my voice. The guy stepped forward.

"Alex Green. So you're the witch that gave us crap our first day," he said. He did not, in fact, say either "witch" or "crap", but as I don't particularly like swearing, I'll leave it to you, dear reader, to fill in what he said. I raised an eyebrow.

"I prefer 'woman' to 'witch', but yes, I am," I replied. 

"Hah. You've got a smart mouth. You're gonna need more than that to make it in Starfleet," Mitchell said.

"Well, my smart mouth got you and Green over to my table. So clearly it did something of benefit," I retorted. He sneered, but before he could say anything else, Spock's tall figure strode over. 

"Good morning, Officer Spock," I greeted, not averting my gaze from the two men.

"Good morning, Ensign Evans. Were these gentlemen bothering you?"

"No, no, they were just leaving," I replied, turning my attention back to my breakfast. I suppose it was the fact that they saw I was buddy-buddy with a Vulcan that made them leave me alone. As Mitchell was walking away, however, I saw his chiseled face look back at me with a cold expression. I shivered, but turned my attention back to Spock.

"Sorry you had to deal with that. I think they're just a couple of trash-talkers. I shouldn't have worried you with it," I apologized.

"There is no need to apologize, Ensign," he said matter-of-factly, as though he did this sort of thing every day. He didn't elaborate further, and we gradually got into the subject of work; I told him about my ideas for a phaser modification, and he in turn told me of some research he was doing on a rare kind of plant species. 

It was...easy. Easy to talk to him. Easy to listen to him. I couldn't place why that was--it was just simply a part of him, like his eyes were. His nature.

Eventually, as people began to fill the hall, we got on the subject of books.

"What are your favorite titles to read, Ensign Evans?" he asked. I blushed a bit sheepishly.

"Funny you should say that...I've, uh, never really been much of a reader. I just never really got into reading," I replied. 

Why did you say that, Violet? You've just told one of the smartest men on the Enterprise that you don't read. You're such an idiot! Idiot! Idi--

"In that case, I shall make some recommendations for you," he replied, utterly unfazed. He then suggested The Great Gatsby, Pride and Prejudice, and Persuasion. I smiled by way of thanks, which Spock seemed to accept.

"If I may ask, Ensign, why do you not have an interest in reading? You seem as though you would enjoy it greatly," Spock asked suddenly. I took another sip of water, forgoing my usual coffee in light of McCoy's orders.

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