MR SPOCK | @askfirstofficerspock
Spock had no idea what he was being obvious about. He was simply there to hire a ship from a smuggler in order to land covertly on Vulcan. As far as he could see the only aspect of the situation that required secrecy was what organization they worked for since as far as the rest of the Federation knew, Section 31 did not exist. They were simply Vulcan merchants attempting to go home.
He trailed after Kirk, without getting too close, but doing his best not to lose sight of the disguised human while keeping his own keen eyes open to find Mudd. He felt the ill intent of the woman who brushed against him in what was feigned sexual interest. His quick hand darted out, long gloved fingers curling around her wrist, not allowing her to jerk free.
“I believe you would be better served in the future if you did not try to steal from Vulcans.” He leaned down, his breath brushing against her ear and mingling with her too powerful perfume, which was no doubt meant to stir the libido of the unsuspecting or willing. Spock found it cloying and bitter. “We can read your mind.”
She sputtered and spun away when Spock released her, disappearing into the crowd no doubt with a warning to the others of her ilk to avoid the tall dark haired Vulcan.
Fortunately, Mudd had not bothered with having his male pattern baldness hidden, and the stage lights were bouncing off the bare dome. Spock left Kirk to go to the bar and headed toward the smuggler’s table. “Mr. Mudd, I am interested in procuring a small vessel.”
“ Ah, geez, ” is muttered under breath, barely enough for anyone to hear. His gaze did wander with the use of reflection, admire the Vulcan in a sense as he moved across the floor with that unshakable discipline that he always had. You can take the Vulcan out of the Academy, but you can’t take the Academy out of the Vulcan, he’d say. But he knew that it had all come from long before that --- home planets, training, and the other’s way of living; it caused a flare, that irritation and that need to disrupt. But he maintained in check, kept control. As much as he could.
Eyes wandered with the brush of women and alien, gaze met with small smirks and a charm he could easily toy with. This was after all, a game --- and them? Pieces in play. No harm, no foul --- just one step ahead of the other. He stopped for a moment, noticing a small commotion with Spock and another woman and almost sighed, and shook her head.
“Making friends, Spock?” he muttered, eyeing the other before ordering a drink. One more brief look towards the other, he’d follow soon ( best not to spook Mudd with the both of them there. Immediately, and all at once were parameters the smuggler was particular with. For now, he’d make his own investigations, perhaps try to find something to sweeten the deal. He spoke the language of credits and profit, after all, and though the Vulcan may offer a price, he knew many more that would pay higher.
Mudd looked up at the Vulcan, suspicion evident --- not many Vulcans crossed his path, after all. If there was profit to be had here, he knew himself to be a rich man. But, word often got round: never mess with a Vulcan. They were clever, sharp, and difficult to negotiate with. Still, he smiled after a few moment’s of study, and gestured towards a free space at the end of the booth for the other to sit. “Let’s talk.”
