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Sam slid into an empty seat at the bar. “So,” he began. “Were you serious when you said that thing earlier about being a ‘student of romance?’”
Spock flashed him an irritated look. “Lieutenant Kirk, if you’ve come to mock me, I can assure you—”
“I’m not,” Sam raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry. I’ve been there before.” He frowned. “I mean, I’ve never had a reality-altering alien try to make me marry someone who didn’t want me…but I’ve had rough breakups.”
Spock glared into his glass. “Does this conversation have a point?”
“I just wanted to say that, in my experience, it doesn’t help to sit around. You gotta at least distract yourself, Spock,” Sam encouraged. “We can help with that, if you want.”
“‘We?’” Spock echoed. Then he followed Sam’s gaze to the pair of Andorians sitting across the room. “You and…your companions?”
“Yeah, they invited me back to their place.” Sam smiled. “But you know, Andorians usually prefer to…do stuff in fours.”
“And you are asking me to join you?”
Sam shrugged. “If you’re interested.”
“I was under the impression that you were married.” Spock’s eyes narrowed at Sam. “To a human.”
“Yeah, we have an arrangement.” Sam’s eyes widened. “Wait, you thought — I’m not cheating on her! God, Spock, you really think I’m the cheating type?”
“I don’t know,” Spock replied. “I do not spend a significant of time contemplating your personal proclivities.”
Sam rolled his eyes and let out a chuckle. “Of course. Look, Spock, I’m not asking you for a commitment. Just offering you a no-strings-attached distraction to get through the night.” He waved at the Andorians. “If you want.”
Spock tilted his head thoughtfully, then threw back the rest of his drink and stood. “Very well. You may introduce us.”