Nyota Uhura

Fat snowflakes were still drifting slowly to the ground, meaning that the crowd at Uhura's was perfectly content to keep sipping spiced apple cider and chatting with Nyota and her sisters. Since it was Tuesday there was no musician, but at least the regulars seemed to think the snowy day called for music and kept feeding coins into the jukebox. She dropped off a burger and fries at one of the tables and commiserated with the elderly man about the weather before staring back to the kitchen. A man sitting at the counter caught her eye, and she paused to look at him. It wasn't unheard of for whites to eat here, since her father had made it clear that he didn't care what color people were, but it was still unusual, and something about the set of his shoulders and the look on his face prompted a swell of sympathy. Walking over and smiling gently, she asked, "Can I get you anything?"

Uhura was in a good mood. The memory of yesterday's assignment, of all the fear in the Debulans' eyes, was enough to make her nearly giddy. It had been far too long since she'd had the opportunity to slowly create a blinding, debilitating fear, just as her father had taught her to.

There was only one thing that could ruin her excitement. Scotty. The moment she saw him, she had to fight the urge to clench her hands into fists, or to reach for her knife. Not the knife I want... She would get it back, of course, but it would take careful planning. The fail safe was most certainly a problem. She was certain that given enough time, killing him wouldn't even be necessary, even if it was the safest course of action. But thanks to the fail safe, murder was out of the question.

Instead she monitored the times at which he entered the code, laying down preparations and waiting for a day he entered it early in the morning, and then all would be well. Soon, she promised herself. He really ought to just give the knife back, and then all this could be avoided... Though she was too angry now to let the matter go, even if he did.

To her extreme annoyance, she realized that she and Scotty were headed for the same turbolift, but there was no way in hell she was going to turn tail and run, even if the sight of him did infuriate her. "Scotty," she drawled. "How lovely it is to see you, though I must say you were far more dashing with a scar on your cheek."