It wasn't me.

Spock couldn’t actually remember the last time he had visited the observation deck, probably after his mother’s death, and he realised that he missed it. Perhaps he could request of the captain a few days off. It wasn’t like him to ask, but even Vulcan’s needed some time to themselves to rest.

"I do."

     —”Well then, I uh-                 I'm happy too.”

"—Really."

     —"Do you like what you see?"

"Very happy, actually."

   —"Really?"

"—Only a little bit?"

  —"...fine.          A big bit. Happy now?"

"I don’t think it would hurt to."

     —"I might like it a little bit. Maybe."

"—See something you like there?"

   —"I don't know if I want to answer that question..."

"…"

      —"..."

"I… What?" Thoroughly confused, simply looking at the woman as if she were an alien herself, "—I don’t know?"

   --"I suppose this isn't the weirdest thing to happen on this ship. Don't ask, it involves alternate timelines and black holes, lots of things exploding-            -I think I would call it complicated." Though she had no idea what to do. While the woman seemed harmless enough, she was pretty sure she should tell someone of a higher rank than herself. Which as an Ensign, meant almost anybody.           --"I probably shouldn't ask but...what is the world like where you're from? I'm assuming you don't have Starfleet."

"—In Hong Kong, stationed at the Shatterdome there."

  --"...          You're now in space. On a Starship. Did you use a transporter pad? A transwarp beaming device of any kind?"