It was about three minutes after your shift, and you rounded a corner on your way back to your quarters only to run nearly smack into Spock.
"My apologies," he said at once, backing up a step in order to give you enough space to pass him.
You grinned, stooping to catch your PADD before it hit the floor. "Why do we always seem to meet on a collision course?" you teased, straightening back up to face him.
"This is merely the second occurrence, Ensign," he said evenly.
You made a face. "Oof, 'Ensign,' is it? Spock‒"
But he cut you off before you could finish. "Is it true that Doctor McCoy invited you to dinner this evening?"
The question surprised you. "Er, well . . . yes, I suppose it is," you admitted, scrutinizing his ever-passive face. "But I turned him down. What of it?"
Spock's eyebrows contracted slightly. "Why did you turn him down?"
"Um . . . because I'm not interested in dating him?" You rolled your eyes. "Come on, Spock, I know Vulcans don't usually do the whole dating thing, but you should at least be able to pick up on that much."
Spock looked very much as if he wanted to say something else, but before he could say anything at all, the ship lurched suddenly. Caught off balance, you toppled into the corridor wall, dropping your PADD again in surprise.
"What‒" you began to ask, but the ship gave another jerk, and you were slammed into the other wall, Spock along with you.
There was a stronger jolt, followed in rapid succession by so many others that you were bounced painfully from wall to wall without even touching the floor. A familiar whiteness flickered at the corners of your vision, and your last thought before the blackness was,
You know, I'm really sick of falling unconscious . . .
