[Poe knows he's a good student. His intellect has been as carefully-cultivated as the Force-sensitive tree that grew in the yard of his parents' house, back on Yavin IV, and he knows he's top of his class here on Earth, at Starfleet. It helps that he's so motivated to improve himself; apart from his piloting and navigation classes (which he could pass with his eyes closed, these are all concepts he learned at his mother's knee when he was still a child), his focus is more scientific, which means he has many classes taught by Professor Spock.
She's the first Vulcan he's ever met, and she fascinates him.
She's beautiful, just breathtakingly stunning, and her intellect... She's so smart, it's almost intimidating, but Poe is too fascinated to be frightened of her, and all he wants to do is to let her talk at him and just absorb everything that comes out of her mouth. Even the fact that she speaks in something close to a monotone and barely ever smiles isn't enough to put him off her. He likes to think that, after all these months of sitting in the front row of her classes, he's able to tell what she's feeling based on the angle of her eyebrows or the tightness of her mouth. He thinks she likes him. He's like almost a hundred percent sure she likes him. At least, she tolerates him far better than her other students, who she seems to view with a mixture of disappointment and impatience, like their inability to grasp the concepts she's teaching them is something they do to deliberately vex her.
It helps that they've started meeting after class, to discuss the coursework and to practice languages together. When she learned that he wasn't from Earth, that he actually came from a small moon in a remote corner of the Galaxy, and that Standard was his second language, she had asked him to teach her his native tongue. He'd been completely baffled, at first — nobody wants to learn Yaval, or Yavinese as they say in Standard, since it's an objectively useless language that doesn't get you anywhere outside the Yavin system — but he'd been so pleased to have an opportunity to hang out with her that he'd happily obliged.
Poe's fascination has almost completely morphed into a full-blown crush, and it's embarrassing, but he also enjoys it so much that he doesn't care.
He knocks once on Spock's half-open office door, and then pushes it open further so he can let himself in, a ritual that he's held on to since their first meeting outside of classroom hours.]
Professor. [He carefully places the plate he's been carrying on her desk, the small, round, sugar-dusted balls beneath the plastic wrap rolling about slightly and bumping into each other.] I brought you something. My abuelito's recipe. They're totally vegan, so...don't worry.
[Chewing his lip, a nervous habit he's never been able to break himself of, he throws himself into the chair opposite her and grins, waiting for her to take one of the fruit and nut and spices cookie he's made and taste it.]
no subject
She's the first Vulcan he's ever met, and she fascinates him.
She's beautiful, just breathtakingly stunning, and her intellect... She's so smart, it's almost intimidating, but Poe is too fascinated to be frightened of her, and all he wants to do is to let her talk at him and just absorb everything that comes out of her mouth. Even the fact that she speaks in something close to a monotone and barely ever smiles isn't enough to put him off her. He likes to think that, after all these months of sitting in the front row of her classes, he's able to tell what she's feeling based on the angle of her eyebrows or the tightness of her mouth. He thinks she likes him. He's like almost a hundred percent sure she likes him. At least, she tolerates him far better than her other students, who she seems to view with a mixture of disappointment and impatience, like their inability to grasp the concepts she's teaching them is something they do to deliberately vex her.
It helps that they've started meeting after class, to discuss the coursework and to practice languages together. When she learned that he wasn't from Earth, that he actually came from a small moon in a remote corner of the Galaxy, and that Standard was his second language, she had asked him to teach her his native tongue. He'd been completely baffled, at first — nobody wants to learn Yaval, or Yavinese as they say in Standard, since it's an objectively useless language that doesn't get you anywhere outside the Yavin system — but he'd been so pleased to have an opportunity to hang out with her that he'd happily obliged.
Poe's fascination has almost completely morphed into a full-blown crush, and it's embarrassing, but he also enjoys it so much that he doesn't care.
He knocks once on Spock's half-open office door, and then pushes it open further so he can let himself in, a ritual that he's held on to since their first meeting outside of classroom hours.]
Professor. [He carefully places the plate he's been carrying on her desk, the small, round, sugar-dusted balls beneath the plastic wrap rolling about slightly and bumping into each other.] I brought you something. My abuelito's recipe. They're totally vegan, so...don't worry.
[Chewing his lip, a nervous habit he's never been able to break himself of, he throws himself into the chair opposite her and grins, waiting for her to take one of the fruit and nut and spices cookie he's made and taste it.]