Logic.

It was something the Vulcans lived by. Logic was simple, it was a path in the chaos. Logic made sense, logic was sense. It would have been logical to go to the Vulcan colony. Half breed or no he was a part of the race. Even if his older self was there, it was a different world now. It would have been equally logical to have asked to Captain a different ship. Starfleet needed them after the devastating attack, needed them badly enough to overlook his emotional moment on the Enterprise. But he had refused. He had decided against all things logical, all things that made sense and that was how he found himself as he was now.

Standing in front of his quarters, half afraid to go inside.

Vulcans felt emotion. It was an unfortunate burden of all beings with a conscience. In the past few days he had felt so acutely human, so many times. It was a troubling thing. Aside from a few moments scattered through the years of his life he had rarely been an issue--a disability as the Science Academy had called it. That moment in grade school when he had lost control and beat his classmate up, a handful of other instances hardly worth note, with one huge exception. He felt emotions but he kept locked down, pushed to the bottom instead of lingering on the surface. Emotions were troublesome things when they ruled a person. Foolish decisions could be made, like beaming onto the surface of a dying planet.

Like allowing a relationship with a student.

Not unheard of in the Academy but not something he would have thought for himself. He was engaged, or he had been before she died, but the woman had never been happy about marrying the 'half breed'. Still the relationship was logical. They were of proper breeding age and social class, their offspring would have less human blood running through them than he did. Stigma would only follow a generation or so, human blood would be bred out and forgotten save for the teasings of school children, something not uncommon for any race at that age. But then she had shown up in his class.

It was her hair really that had caught his eye. Women kept their hair short or veiled themselves on Vulcan. He had seen women's hair in his class before, the women in the Academy seemed to use every tool at their disposal to distinguish themselves from one another But she, she caught his eye because at first glance it seemed that she had barely any hair at all. Pulled back sharply, she sat ram rod strait and it was not until she bent over that that wave of ebony slipped across her shoulders. The measures she took with her appearance were tame compared to some of the others. Bright earrings and a simple sweep of ebony across the lid of her eye. If she did other things it escaped his gaze. Everything about her spoke of nature, of the sunny, warm plains his mother had told him stories about as a child despite his insistence that such a thing was un-necessary.

His fingers reached for the keypad at the sound of footfalls. Whatever he was feeling it would not do to allow the rest of the crew to see him in such a state. He had beaten and marooned the Captain, he would have to work hard enough to escape that without the added burden of being seen as a coward. Keying in his code he stepped into the room and heard the door hiss behind him as it closed. His room was generic, sterile almost. There was nothing to tell of the man who stood in the doors. Any crew member could have lived there. He knew the others had decorated their rooms. He had seen the bags they took on the ship. Odd paper rolls had been in Jim's and Sulu's had been filled with pieces of silver waiting to be sharpened. His were bare and sparse. Vulcans were practical and his assignment had been rushed. There had been no guarantee that the Enterprise would become his home. Now that it was, it seemed odd that he would live in a place that held no trace of the person who inhabited it, save for the physical being himself.

The knock on the door was hardly gentle but, then again, he knew there was little about Nyota Uhura that was. He was surprised at how difficult it was to swallow, as if someone had placed a block in his throat. Forcing the sensation aside he turned to the door and pressed the keys to allow it to open to admit her. The world had gone mad but she looked the same. Same warm, dark skin, same high ponytail, same everything. She smiled up at him and he read the relief and happiness in her eyes. Like he had, she thought he would not be returning to the ship. In fact, he had come so abruptly that he had no time to send word ahead before his feet touched the Bridge. Immediately she wrapped her arms around him, her face fitting into the juncture of his shoulder and neck. His hands were slow to come around her waist but faster than they usually were.

"I didn't think you were coming back," she breathed, her voice still heavy with relief.

Spock made no confirmation of the fact, seeming to be merely content to hold her against him. Uhura didn't mind, how could she when he was there? When the ship had taken off she had been so sure that he was going to Vulcan. She told herself that it was for the best. He needed to be with his people--or one of them anyway. There were other men, there were always other men. But her heart had been in despair. There were other men, sure, but none of them could seamlessly argue with her in four different languages without skipping a beat. There were other men but none of them would be able to make her heart pound with a twist of lip that could hardly be called a smile. Other men would not make her want to spend hours staring into the eyes, wondering if she could separate every emotion hidden there or if it would be like trying to pick through grains of sand or drops of the ocean.

Other men wouldn't be Spock.

But he had stepped on the Bridge and become First Officer within moments of arriving--not that anyone had been terribly surprised. Only men like them would be able to be at each other's throats one moment and friends the next. Spock hadn't spoken to any of them since the ship docked and they returned to the Starfleet Academy. None of them had quite known what to say either. Kirk had said something about him needing time, his eyes shining as if he knew some of the Vulcan's pain. The world had been so terribly chaotic that it was easy to get lost in it. Funerals, meetings, promotions--it was a whirlwind Uhura wished would let her breath for one moment. But now they were in space again, the crew of the Enterprise and he was there as well. He still smelled the same, he felt the same, in a world that still seemed to be upside down it was comforting enough to bring tears to her eyes.

"I thought you were going to be on Vulcan," she said finally drawing back far enough to look into his eyes.

"A Vulcan Colony is being established," he said, "but my presence is needed here."

"Yes," she said with a smile, "it is."

They were silent for a moment. It was something that she had become accustom to when dealing with the Vulcan and in her work as well. After all, in order to understand one had to listen as much as they spoke. It was difficult for her to master that. She far preferred the speaking part of her job as a communications officer. Silence with the promise of speech. Unfortunately this silence felt different, almost tense. She felt Spock's fingers tighten fractionally against her spine and while his eyes seemed serene she could feel his agitation. Uhura had been with enough men to know what that was, what the barest look in his eyes was. She understood, truly she did. So much had happened, the world was so incredibly chaotic, how could he possibly have time for a girlfriend? If she was even that, they had not really defined their relationship before. Now it seemed that they would not have a chance.

His lips parted, explanations ready to be given but Uhura shook her head.

"No, um, its okay," she smiled, stepping back. His hand fell to his sides as easily as if she had never been in his arms, "I'm glad you're back," she looked behind her, "I'll--I'll see you on the bridge," she said with a painful smile before she turned and walked out.

Spock stared at the door. He knew his emotions had not been written on her face but she had seen it clear as day. He did not want to be without her but he knew that the times ahead would be troubling and that if she occupied his thoughts it would have a negative effect on all involved. Surely simple glances and interactions on the Bridge would not affect him. He could be her friend, her comrade, he could be everything but the thing he found himself wishing he could be for her. Irritably he crushed the thought. Wishes and dreams were for the very young and Spock, at that moment, had never felt older.

Turning to the bag in which he had his few possessions, Spock set about unpacking.

"I hope that's not my face you're picturing."

With a final vicious punch Uhura turned to see James Kirk standing there, a grin on his lips. He was still flirting with her--not that she was any different from the females on the crew--as if she was not dating Spock. With a lurch she remembered that she was not, in fact. Not anymore anyway. Furiously she turned to the bag, focusing on the anger instead of the ache in her heart as she resumed hitting the thing. Kirk raised an eyebrow. Usually she would have said yes, it was his face for one hand while her other was pummeling somewhere decidedly lower on his body. But all she did was hit the punching bag. Though by no means advanced combat, all officers learned basic self defense. However it appeared defense was the last thing on her mind.

That could only mean Spock had done something stupid.

Torn between amusement and frustration, Kirk walked forward to where she was standing hitting the thing.

"What'd Spock do?" he asked.

"What makes you think he's got anything to do with this?" Uhura demanded looking at him, her chest heaving. Kirk shrugged as her ebony lined eyes tore from him and returned to the punching bag.

"Because only he would be stupid enough to piss you off," Kirk said. Uhura's fist slammed into the bag, the motion knocking it into him. Kirk braced himself for the impact of the bag before it came back to her and she resumed hitting it, "what'd he do, dump you?" he asked.

"That's not any of your business," she spat.

"Not any of my business, Captain," he said with a grin, knowing it'd make her even more angry, "and of course it is. Inter-personelle relationships are part of the duties of the Captain under Article--"

"I know the code," she snarled at him. loathing how he knew it well enough to use it when he needed too and ignore it when it suited him, "until there's a problem this is none of your business, Captain."

Deciding she was hopeless, Kirk turned and walked from the room. There was another player in this equation but he, at least, would only knock him unconscious with that far too handy attack of his. Turning to a computer he gave his inquiry as to the location of Spock and was given confirmation the half breed Vulcan was in his room. Mentally praying he wasn't sulking, he told the computer to put the sickbay on alert and headed in that general direction. The funny thing about dealing with Spock was that while he denied having any 'human' feelings or emotions or anything of the sort what he really did was disregard them. Ignoring a bomb was not the same as disabling it. Keeping that thought in mind, Kirk arrived at the doors just as Spock was coming out of them.

"Did you need something Captain?" he asked, his voice cool and polite.

"Yeah, uh, walk with me," he said. Spock gave the barest incline of his head, as much consent as Kirk would get and the two men walked down the hallway, "so I ran into Uhura," he said, "I'm pretty sure she's about ten seconds from tattooing your face onto a punching bag."

"How Lieutenant Uhura takes out her frustration is not my concern," he replied smoothly.

"Yeah, except her frustration is you," Kirk said, "you broke up with her."

"I was not aware that the Captain was to be involved in the personal decisions of everyone in this crew," he said, his voice not wavering.

"Article--"

"You cannot pick and choose when to use the code, Captain or it looses its effectiveness," Spock replied, "the code also states that a Captain's involvement is only necessary when the crew has been emotionally compromised and as none of us have been, your involvement is not required."

It was only through supreme force of will--and love for his limbs--that Kirk didn't remind Spock what happened the last time he had been emotionally compromised. The half Vulcan turned his head to look at Kirk, plainly waiting for him to elaborate on the subject of his romantic relationship. Kirk said nothing.

"If that is all Captain--"

"I thought you were over this whole 'I don't fell' thing," he said, "you could at least look upset."

"It is the burden of all beings who are capable of feeling to feel," Spock said facing him, "as for your feelings for Lieutenant Uhura, they are none of my concern and you may pursue her as you wish."

Aside from the rather horrifying thought of being a rebound for Spock, Kirk knew there was another thing in the way.

"Yeah my feelings are none of your concern but her feelings for you should be your concern. She's in love with you and you're just going to what? Wait until you're both in the void or injured to say anything?!"

The moment he shouted the words Kirk realized his misstep. Spock's already ramrod strait posture seemed to straiten even more. His cold eyes seemed to harden and for a moment Kirk saw them narrow. He hadn't meant to bring up Spock's mother, the words had just spilled out of his mouth. The fact that he hadn't gotten a chance to say goodbye to his mother was something Spock was extremely sensitive about. Especially because it seemed like while Spock was doing everything in his power to embrace his Vulcan side, he hadn't exactly embraced the human side. Once she was dead he felt that that had been like saying his mother's culture was worthless--like she was worthless. Kirk was usually alright with keeping his mouth shut about that. But he had just made a huge misstep. While Spock's jaw didn't move, he saw his fingers move, just slightly. For a moment Kirk wondered if he should have asked for a gurney to follow him.

Without a word the half Vulcan turned on his heel an walked away.

"Spock--"

"Captain!" muttering curses Kirk turned to see Scotty running up to him, computer in his hand, "Captain I need to speak to you, right now!"

Kirk turned to the Engineer who looked at Spock's retreating form.

"What's got his ears in a twist?" he asked. Kirk glared, "alright alright, well there's a slight problem with the water system--"

Kirk turned his attention to the problem, vowing that the next time he was taking a Vulcan as a crew member he was going to make sure someone had already taught him how to be emotional.

Because he was never going to go do this again.

I just saw the movie and I loved the crew relationships, especially Uhura and Spock.

Let me know if I should keep going or not (aka please review!)