Getting to Know You

Spock shifted the box from the couch to the floor.  He had accumulated a rather large selection of artifacts over the years in his space journeys and had never had anywhere large enough to display them properly.  Now he had ample places for both books and those odd pieces of bric-a-brac.  He had asked if he could move in immediately and been given the go ahead, so he had the boxes that he had in storage, some as long as twenty years, delivered as quickly as possible.  None of the other ladies were home so he had no distractions from his unpacking.  One of them had set the bio-controls so that the room would not be as damp or cool as it had been when he had been shown it the first time.  He had expressed a concern over this when he had been told he could stay.  He had also been told, “Do not bring anything for the kitchen!”  Chapel assured him that there were ample kitchen gadgets for everything and there were enough dishes to serve a small cruiser.  Apparently, Leigh had also bought the entire set of officer’s serving pieces from the old Enterprise.  Spock had no trouble complying with this wish since he had nothing besides ceremonial tea sets that he used only in the privacy of his room.  
He could hear the sound of a skimmer in the carport.  It would either be Ms. Rand or Dr. Chapel.  It turned out to be Rand.  She stuck her head in the open door, “Hey, getting settled, anything I can help with?’
“I am nearly finished.  You are home for the evening?” he asked trying to establish some sort of schedule for them all.  
“Just for supper.  Have to go back for a half night at 2000,” she said with a sigh.  Her new duties were more detailed than she had on the Enterprise, but she was enjoying the challenge.  “I think Ny gets in at 1800.  Chris won’t be home till tomorrow morning.  She has 16 hour shifts the next few days.”
Spock nodded filing all the information away for future reference.  He did not wish to be alarmed for no reason every time someone came and went.  Being at street level might create a problem with his hearing and the amount of noise, but he was certain he would acclimate.  
“I’ll let you get back to unpacking.  Looks a lot different in here already,” she noted as she stuck her head a little further in to peer into the bedroom.  Spock had the red velvet curtains out of the boxes and ready to be draped along the walls.  They would help cut down on the sound even if they did knock out what light came through the window.  He still had the sliding door for illumination.  
Spock nodded to the blonde and went back to his work as she headed upstairs.  He could hear the floor creak above his head as she moved across the floor.  He went back to his boxes.  The last box was meant for the bedroom.  The door opening and closing with a slam almost startled him.  Uhura’s rather strident voice told him who it was, “Jan, you’ll never believe what just happened…”
She realized the door to the suite was open.  Spock had to be home.  “Spock, need any help?” she asked seeing him with the large box.
“No, I have things under control,” he said noting they did not use titles or his rank when they had spoken to him.  He was not certain that he liked that.  But, he was not their commanding officer in this instance.  Uhura leaned against his doorframe, tapped the shelves with one long nail, “I sure wish I had these in my room.  You’re lucky I didn’t take this one, but I got so tired of the lack of sunlight on the ship that it seemed silly to take a room that received virtually no direct light even on sunny days.”
Janice Rand appeared at her elbow dressed in different attire than when she’d come in.  She had a sandwich in one hand, “What were you saying?”
“Huh?  Oh do you remember that guy that kept watching us when we went to the bar on the wharf?” she asked her eyes as bright as polished black onyx.  
“Yeah, did he finally ask you out?” Jan surmised.  
“No, he asked about you.”
“Good grief, he has to be what…twenty-five,” she laughed.  It was nice to be noticed by a younger man however.  Suddenly feeling years younger she stretched catlike, “Think he could handle me?”
“You… sorry Spock,” Uhura stopped as she realized the Vulcan was listening to the conversation with near exasperation.  
“I assure you that I am quite accustomed to human chatter,” he replied good-naturedly.  The two ladies chuckled.  Uhura asked,      “What do you want for supper?”
“I was not aware that we prepared meals together?” he answered a little surprised.  
“Not every night, just thought since you were getting settled that you might not have anything definite in mind for supper.”
“At this time I am not in need of food.   Thank you for asking however.”  
“I think that’s our cue to beat it,” Rand said.  The two waved at their new housemate and headed back up stairs.  Spock considered shutting the door to preclude any further interruptions, but he also thought they might consider it rude.  He did not wish to appear rude towards them.  While he welcomed sharing the house with them, he did wish to keep his own privacy.                                

The first week at the Barracks, as they had dubbed it later on, had been rather quiet.  Spock had settled in easily.  He was at the Academy teaching classes during the day.  As soon as the classes actually started up and running, he would have evening hours as well to confer with the cadets.  Chapel’s schedule kept her at HQ most of the time.  In fact, she seemed to take on more and more work instead of trying to enjoy the time she had planet side now.  Rand and Uhura were in and out frequently and noisily.  Spock’s communiqué with both Kirk and McCoy had ended up with nearly identical replies, “You’re living WHERE?”
Both men seemed amused and completely flabbergasted.  He explained calmly how it was a logical and a perfectly suitable arrangement for all involved.  He also mentioned that living with the three officers would be no different here than it was on the Enterprise.  It would simply be in closer quarters.   His reply had been snorts and chuckles, as well as McCoy’s comment, “You green-blooded ice cube, they’re women not officers.”  
It would take approximately two months before Spock would begin his actual training cruises, so he was home every evening.  So far they had been spent in the company of one of the three.  He had yet to eat with Chapel, but he didn’t think it unusual.  She came and went without saying much to him.  Her concerns were usually whether his room was satisfactory or if there were any other things that he might think of that would help him settle in faster.  He had thought of complaining about the surf at night, but that was illogical.  There was nothing that she, nor he, could do to change that.  He did mention the noise however.  “I have found it difficult to meditate and sleep on particular occasions,” he was saying as she checked the refrigerator.  She was making a list of things she needed to get.   
“Oh, nothing we’ve done is it?” she asked and jotted down milk.  They had an agreement with the food.  If it were something that everyone would eat, they would split the cost.  If it were something special only for them, they would foot the bill.  
“No, they are outside noises,” Spock replied.  
“Maybe you should try a white noise machine,” she suggested with a smile.  He found that he was following her trying to speak to her.  She didn’t seem to want to stay around for long.    
“Can you think of anything you’d like added to the list?” Christine asked with a smile.  It reminded him of the ones she used to give him when she handed him the inventory reports.  
“I shall purchase my own food.  I would like to know where you purchased the wheat wafers?  They were quite tasty.”
“I’ll pick some up.  They aren’t expensive and Uhura likes them too,” she answered jotting it on the paper.  She started up to her room.  Before she disappeared into her room he stopped her, “Dr. Chapel, the white noise machine.  Do you know where I could purchase one of those?”
“Uh…well.  Let me think about it,” she answered and headed into her room.  She came right back out.  “I’ll bet they have them at Birnbaum’s or at least would know how to get you one.  It’s a store that specializes in relaxation and homeopathic goods.”  She met his eyes for a second, sighed, “Would you like to go with me?  It’s right next to the grocers, and I need to pick up some new bath salts anyway.”
She figured he’d say no.  Her surprise was quite evident when he nodded, “Agreed.”

How she ever found herself driving along the Pacific Coast with Spock next to her in the skimmer was beyond her.  It was a warm sunny day, as most were in the San Francisco Bay area, and she had the T-roof open.  Spock did not look too pleased at the prospect of having his impeccably straight hair ruffled by the breeze, but he didn’t ask her to shut the windows.  He found she was a capable and efficient driver.  They were at one of the smaller locally owned grocers within fifteen minutes.  Christine preferred this place even though its goods were not as cheap as the discount places.  They had unusual and exotic foods that she enjoyed cooking with.  Getting out of the skimmer she turned around in the parking lot, “Birnbaum’s is over there.”
“I will accompany you when you go.  It would be rather duplicitous to go there only to go again when you returned.”
“Of course, how logical, they have a fair selection of Vulcan goods here,” she remembered as they walked toward the entrance.  Inside it was arranged like all other grocers, but the ethnic foods were separate.  Spock headed for the off planet goods while Chapel breathed a sigh of relief and headed for the items on her list.  
She was debating about the tomatoes when a man approached her, “You don’t want those.”
“Excuse me?” she replied.  She was not in her uniform but still carried herself as a Star Fleet officer.  The man leaned a little closer.  He was quite good looking, and he knew it.  “Those, you don’t want them.  I have some tomatoes at my place that are much better than those,” he tempted.  
Spock’s baritone answered, “Perhaps you would care to sell them.”
Christine tried like hell not to smile, but it was the hardest thing she’d ever done.  The man turned to look right into the Vulcan’s eyes.  Spock presented him with a raised eyebrow and a calm demeanor.  The man weighed his options and decided he didn’t like them.  “Well, just trying to make conversation,” he grumbled and walked off.  
Spock turned to Dr. Chapel, “I assumed that you did not wish to converse with him.  Was I mistaken?”
She shook her head, “No.  However next time you might let me tell him off, but thank you.  Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Yes,” Spock replied placing the items in the cart.  There weren’t many things, a few cans and three boxes of what looked like unleavened bread.  Christine tapped them, “Surely that’s not everything you’re getting.”
“I can return can I not?” he replied.  
She shrugged, “Of course.  What do you think of these tomatoes?  I think I can do better if I just had somewhere to grow them.”
“You do have the rooftop garden,” he reminded.  
“I thought of that, but it would be so inconvenient to have to go up and down.  I guess I’ll just get these, and then when I figure something else out I’ll start my own garden.”  
It didn’t take much longer to get the items on the list and get packed out to the skimmer.  “Do you want to walk or drive to Birnbaum’s?” she asked.  
“It is a fair day,” was his reply and he set off toward the specialty shop.  It was painted rather ornately with wizards and unicorns on the outside.  Inside, it looked like it had been the epicenter of a tie dye factory explosion.  Flashing black lights, wave curtains to simulate breezes, and audio-therapy tapes played in the background.  Christine went off to find her bath salts and the soothing aroma candles.  Spock found himself stopping at the incense.  They actually had Vulcan scents that he had not found anywhere but his home planet.  Buying the ones in large charcoal sized briquettes, he wondered if there were any of the other varieties, “Excuse me, do you carry or could order pL’shat scented coals?” 
“We don’t carry that scent at all, and we can’t order them in that size.  We can get them in a smaller pellet form,” the cashier said.  
“Those will do.  I would like to order some.  I also wished to know if you had a…” he momentarily forgot what he had come for. 
“A white noise machine,” Christine supplied from the other end of the counter.  
“Yes, a white noise machine.”
Having five models to choose from, he made his selection and placed the order for 5 kilos of pellets to arrive before the end of the week.  Christine had found body oils as well that help with relaxation and tension.  She had a lot of tension lately.  The main reason was standing with his arms full waiting for her to open the skimmer door.  “Well, I’m glad that you found what you are looking for,” Christine was saying.  
“Yes, I am considering purchasing the water therapy fountain as well,” he said and finished at her questioning look, “I found the sound the water made as it cascaded down the rocks quite soothing as well.”
“Just makes me want to go to the bathroom,” Christine muttered.  

	Spock settled in a meditative stance and breathed in the incense of the pL-shat.  He intended on spending the bulk of the evening in repose.  His group of cadets was proving to be a little more difficult in the simulations than he had expected.  Unfortunately, the pL-shat could not cover up the smell that pervaded the room from upstairs.  With a rather loud sigh, he untangled his legs and stood flexing his toes.  He would have to attend to this matter before he could meditate.   Pulling the white robe around him, he went upstairs.  
	“Chris, have you got the sauce?” Jan was saying as she put the plates around the table.  There were four plates set although so far Spock had refused to eat at most of the meals.  He was still welcome to whatever they were eating.  
	“It’s on the bar,” the physician said as she turned the steaks on the grill.  Uhura was in charge of the salad and dessert.  Spock appeared at the top of the stairs.  His nose twitched in distaste.  Jan saw him, “Hi, ready for supper?” 
	“I do not think so,” he uttered as he tried to keep from breathing.  “I came to ask if there was some way you could refrain from cooking meat?”
	“Oh, we never thought…” Jan replied and bit her lip.  Calling to Chapel, “Christine, we have a problem.”
	“Huh?” she asked and stuck her head in, “What?”
	“Spock and the steaks…” Uhura said with a shake of her head.  For a minute she was still dumbfounded as to what they were talking about then she caught a whiff, “Oh.  OH!  Spock we never even thought.  I don’t know how we’ll get the smell to stop… smelling.  They’re nearly done, but…” she stammered.  
	“That is sufficient.  Perhaps if I open the windows,” he suggested.  
	“We’ll turn the exhaust fans on,” Nyota said and flipped a switch that started pulling the smell they thought was so delicious out of the lower rooms of the house.  Before Spock could retreat to his quarters, the communications officer flashed him a winning smile and a wave with a carrot stick, “Sure you don’t want to stay?”
	“I am quite certain.  However, if you have enough of the salad made up, I will take some of it in a bowl,” he said.  The three women laughed.  Spock might not be able to handle his end at table when meat was being served, but he did seem to want to be one with them.