Spice of Life 

	Jim Kirk read the report.  It was short, sweet, to the point, and dry as dust.  He hadn’t been a captain very long, and he was already bored with the paperwork.  It might help if he could get Spock to realize that there were adjectives in the English language and it was no great sin to use them.  However, knowing Spock even the short amount of time that he did, he was certain the suggestion would be considered unwarranted and humanly illogical.  Kirk’s stomach told him it was time for supper.  He might mention it to Spock if he were there.  
	
	The officer’s mess and recreation room was busy with activity.  It was a happy ship, Kirk thought pleased.  There had been some doubt about this when he’d been given command.  After all he was considered an upstart and too young for such a post.  But by the looks of things in the off hours, he wasn’t screwing up yet.  	
	The tables were pretty full up but he saw one that only had one occupant.  With a winning smile he approached, “Miss Chapel, is there anyone else sitting here?” 
	“You are,” she answered with just as bright a response.  
	“That’s my girl,” he said with a chuckle and sat down.  He was the captain and technically he could have ordered her to let him sit there but that was no fun.  She’d been reading something before he’d arrived, “Reports?”
	“Newest book in the series I’m working on,” she answered with a slightly red face.  It wasn’t easy being caught with a romance novel by the captain.  It was her off hours though so she wasn’t sure why she was so embarrassed.  
	“Come to think of it, that would be better than the reports I’ve got to wade through,” he winked.  
	Christine laughed and stretched.  She’d been on duty for a 12-hour stint and was trying to relax so she could go to sleep.  Unlike many members of the female crew, she was not overly swayed by Jim Kirk’s charms.  She never did go for the school jock type.  She was more the chess team nerd sort.  
	“Spock,” Kirk called.  Then turned to Chapel and pointed at the empty chair, “Do you mind?”
	“Of course not,” Christine smiled and watched the ship’s science officer and acting second in command make his way through the crowded room.  He was a gangly awkward looking thing, she thought, but he had a certain odd charm.  
	Lt. Commander Spock stopped at the captain’s chair with the tray, “Captain Kirk, Nurse Chapel.”  
	“Sit down.  I don’t think you’re gonna find a better seat in the house,” Kirk invited.  
	Seeing no reason to refuse, Spock sat his tray down and took the seat opposite the nurse.  He had only spoken to her on official occasions but found her proficient in her duties.  His usual selection of unleavened bread and assorted vegetables with sauce always made Kirk glad he liked meat.  They sat eating their meal for a time until it was plain they were just lingering over the remains when Kirk thought of something.  “Mr. Spock,” he began with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, “I was telling Miss Chapel here that the reports I’ve been getting have been difficult to swallow dry as it were.” 
	Spock looked as if that did not compute, “You have been trying to eat them?”
	“No, no, it’s an expression… never mind… they’re dull reading material,” he corrected and winked the eye only Chapel could see.  “I was thinking perhaps if you were to embellish them a little it might make them easier to wade through.”
	“Reports are meant to state facts not to entertain,” Spock replied uncertain as to where this was going.  Chapel was equally puzzled at the Captain’s odd statement.   
	“Well they don’t have to read like a piece of fiction but a few adjectives sprinkled here and there never hurts.  You do use adjectives don’t you Mr. Spock?” he asked unsure.  
	“When the situation warrants it,” Spock replied truthfully.  However he had never fully grasped the intricacies of Standard where at any given moment one word could be used as any part of speech in a statement.  It was a constantly changing language that never seemed to stop its meandering.  Vulcan was stagnant in that aspect.  New words were simply not created.  
	“Good, well, let’s pretend for a minute that you have to fill out a missing persons report on… Miss Chapel here, what would you say?” 
	“But she is not missing, she is sitting there.”
	This was getting exasperating, “Spock I said pretend, consider it an exercise and she’s the example.  Now, tell us what you would fill out.”
	Spock looked at the nurse, began as if reading her personnel file, “Chapel, Christine Elizabeth, age 28, hair blonde, eyes blue, height 77.9 cm, weight…”
	“We can forget the weight,” she interrupted quickly.  “It’s not right anyway.”
	Spock continued, “Identifying marks: 4 centimeter scar on inner left arm, 5 mm diameter mole on the right breast, and a tattoo of a heart and two roses on the lower pelvis area above the coccyx.” 
	Red as a beet Christine insisted, “That is NOT on the report.”
	Kirk snapped a fiery look at his second in command, “Explain mister.”
	Spock was at ease, “Perhaps the ship’s store can provide a bathing costume that would cover a larger area of the nurse’s body, one that is also in compliance with Starfleet regulations.”  
	“Oh, that is true.  The first week I was aboard I didn’t realize my suit was considered a two piece.  It has a mesh torso…  I do have a regulation suit now sirs,” she blushed a little at the clarification.  
	“Really,” Kirk smiled a winning smile at her.  She’d look pretty good in a mesh suit, but back to the matter at hand, “Well it’s clear Spock knows his personnel files, but that’s not what I meant.  Now look at Christine and describe her from what you see not what you know.”  
	Spock regarded her, “Miss Chapel has chemically altered brown hair, blue eyes, and is too fair complected to 	expose herself to UV rays unprotected.” 
	“Boy that’s romantic,” Chapel laughed.  
	Jim shook his head, “See we are looking at the same woman and I see something completely different.  I see a tall statuesque beauty with sun-kissed brown hair, summer sky blue eyes, and a peaches and cream complexion whose smile lights her whole face.  And I’d like to see it more often.” 
	Spock blinked.  The captain wished descriptive adjectives.  However as he applied them they made little sense to the Vulcan’s reference points, “I believe I understand now what you wish but I must point out that if this were strictly a Terran ship those descriptors would be accurate.  However, on Vulcan the summer sky is not blue, it is never blue, and on Aechis the sky is nearly black…”
	Kirk got the picture, “Okay I see what you’re saying, so using Vulcan references describe her like I did.”
	Spock paused so long they thought he might not reply.  With narrowed eyes he began, “Miss Chapel’s hair is the color of the San-shu desert, the golden sand becoming so hot that it is as spun glass across the ancient lava, her eyes the rarest of all colors on Vulcan and considered a great treasure in any house, and her skin is as translucent as a t’cha-a in midnight bloom.” 
	It was such a poetic description that Christine thought she might cry.  Jim Kirk was amazed, “But what about her smile?”
	Spock shook his head seriously, “Only the insane smile on Vulcan.”
	That did it.  Kirk pounded the table he was laughing and coughing so hard.  Christine laughed till her jaw cramped up on her and tears freely flowed down her cheeks.  Spock regarded the two and the amount of mirth he’d created.  After a few minutes he said stoically, “If you will excuse me, I have more ‘dull’ reports to complete.”  
	Kirk waved him off and leaned back, “God that was fun.  I think if he’d just remember some of that little exercise in idiocy he might make a pretty good friend what do you think?”
	Chapel considered, “I don’t know, but I’ll never forget being compared to the rarest color on all of Vulcan.”

FIN