The rule is that as soon as you graduate from Starfleet Academy, you’re legally allowed to drink. But no one really follows that rule anymore. I’d been sneaking into bars since I was a freshman, so needless to say, I was well versed in the way of drinks.


I sigh and settle into a bar stool, ordering a scotch on the rocks. As the bartender fixes my drink, I inspect the bar around me, adjusting my uniform. In Starfleet, there was practically a uniform for everything. Even for your outside life, you had to wear something specific. I mess with my golden buttons a few times, occupying myself as I wait for a drink. It was odd to be back on solid ground, after being in space for what felt like years. I sigh, looking around me. Aliens and humans alike mingle around the area, chatting idly away.


“Long day?” I ask the man next to me, who had just received a drink that looked suspiciously like the one I had just ordered.


The man lets out a breath after gulping down his drink. “Most days are long on the Enterprise, sweetheart,” he grunts, shooting me a charming glance.


I sit back on my stool, picking up my drink and swallowing down the harsh liquid. “Ah, Enterprise, huh? A nice ship, I hear. What’s your gig on it?”


The man shoots me a suave grin. “Would you believe me if I told you I was the captain?”


“Oh, definitely,” I nod, taking another drink.


Looking slightly confused, the man swallows down the rest of his drink and orders another. “You’d actually believe me?”


I shrug. “From what I’ve heard, oh yeah. Captain James Tiberius Kirk, the womanizing captain of the Starfleet. You’re definitely well known around San Francisco and the various ships.”


“Is that all I’m known for?” Kirk almost pouts as he starts on his second drink. “Aren’t I known for anything else?”


“Feats of greatness?” I suggest lightly. “I’ll check in with my male counterparts. Believe me, the females have a one track mind.”


Kirk frowns. “And you don’t? You’re a female, right?”


I shrug. “Sure, but unlike them, I’m not desperate for the attention of a galactic battle hero.”


Kirk draws in closer. “Then what are you desperate for?” he whispers, “Miss…”


“Melissa Blanc,” I say quickly, backing away from the handsome young man slightly, “First Lieutenant of the Starship Elite, serial number—.”


“I don’t need to know your serial number!” He waves away my final words. “And you sound so formal. Call me Jim.” He holds out his hand to shake, which I take.


“A pleasure, Jim,” I say with a smirk. Already he’s warmed up. He really was the womanizer my comates had described.


Kirk gets closer, his breath against my ear. “So, Melissa. What’s your weakness?”


I practically snort. “I’m sorry, Jim, but it’s not normal for me to reveal my weaknesses to people. I prefer to keep them to myself, thank you.”


“Come on, sweetheart,” he says almost seductively. “What’s the one thing that you could just die for, that you would give your all for? Is it a person?”


I swallow. “Mr. Kirk…”


“Captain.”


Kirk jerks back slightly, groaning as he looks up. I follow his gaze, swallowing. I would say he’s a human, but I know better. The pointed eyebrows and ears give him away. He’s a Vulcan. No human looked like that.


“What, Spock?” Kirk moans.


The Vulcan man blinks intelligently at me and Kirk on our bar stools, looking as though he is about to break into a salute. He wears what most of the men in Starfleet wear outside of work: a long sleeved black turtleneck, dark pants, and dark boots. His hair is pitch black and cut to exact regulation length, revealing his ear-tips all the more. “Sir,” he says slowly, “Mr. Scot has asked me to bring you to the Enterprise for details about the computer’s mainframe. Apparently something is not working properly and he requires your assistance.”


“Can’t he ask Chekov or something?” Kirk moans, “I’m busy!”


The Vulcan tips his head ever so slightly. “I do not believe that is an option, Captain. Mr. Scot asked for you personally, and to defy him would be—.”


“Illogical,” Kirk interrupts, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “I know, I know. Fine, Spock.” He stands up from the stool and steps out of the bar without giving me a second glance. I roll my eyes. I knew he was like that from the start, just another womanizer wanting a girl to take home. I take another sip of my drink, watching Kirk and his Vulcan friend leave the bar.


Spock.


I try not to choke on my drink as I watch him leave. How many times had I watched him leave a room, or make a report, or even just jog down the street with Kirk as they reported for action? He had no idea I was watching, but I was.


What was it about him that I found so attractive? Of course he was physically extremely attractive. All the men at the Academy had been attractive, but Spock…there was something about him that I found extremely alluring. Maybe it was his steady gaze, his eyes so confused by the life of humans that I was drawn too, or the rock-like behavior he set, a foothold for the people around him. He was powerful, his Vulcan abilities almost entrancing.


Spock.


Maybe that was what I should have answered to Kirk. What was I desperate for? What would I have given my life to be with?


Anything to be with Spock.