It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single Vulcan must be in want of a wife.
“Have you heard?” exclaimed Yeoman Rand, her terraced hair gleaming in the red LED light. “Our new science officer, Mr. Spock, is supposed to be ever so well off. Mr. Kyle says he owns half of Rigel Seven!”
“I do find,” said Nurse Chapel, “that Mr. Spock has a — an unusual way about him. And I confess, I find him a bit intriguing.”
“Merely a man!” cried the blonde yeoman. “Indeed not! He is a Vulcan, and an exceedingly fine one at that!”
“Let me rephrase,” said Uhura. “He is merely a half-human, half-Vulcan man, albeit one with a fine mind. And if the captain hears you talking about your superior officer that way, it’s half-rations for you, Miss Rand.”
“Fo, what do I care for that?” cried Rand. “I’m on a diet anyway!”
Cara King — www.caraking.com
My Lady Gamester — going where no Regency has gone before