Characters/Pairings: Spock/Uhura, Kirk

Rating: M

A/N: This takes place before my other story 'Photograph'.

The Captain's movement slowed to a stop before him. Fascinating, thought Spock. He stepped around the still form of the Captain and moved swiftly towards the door of the transporter room. He would need to get Environmental Engineering cleared first of the alien device that threatened to put the entire ship in a deep freeze. Then he would go to the bridge and make the necessary repairs to all the consoles that the Scalosians had sabotaged.

The ship was very quiet and the occasional statue of a crewman in the corridor was still an unnaturally eerie sight to behold. Yet Spock felt at peace for once since the events on Platonius and could finally reflect on them in solitude.

She had slapped him afterwards. Hard too. He was amazed that he had been so consumed with such a primitive human male emotion—jealousy—that he hadn't even been conscious of Nyota's sudden shift in her body towards him. He had confronted her in her quarters in a most illogical manner. He knew they were not to blame, yet he had felt this overwhelming need to erase the image of Kirk kissing Uhura from his mind. Had his emotional control been so utterly compromised by Parmen?

He grabbed her forearm and jerked her body to his, her breath sharply drawn. He realized his comment about her arousal from Kirk's kiss was unnecessary, but he was not prepared for her emotions as they seeped into his skin. Her confusion, fear and embarrassment---her arousal by it. Inflamed, he kissed her hard for a moment before she pushed on his chest to break them apart. The look in her eyes said enough for him—that she wanted to erase Kirk as much as he needed to erase Christine from both of their minds.

With that, he kissed her again, his tongue surging into her mouth, his hands lowering to grasp her buttocks and pull her even closer. His cock had grown hard and he ground into her.

She was making small noises of need and want and he felt the urgent press of her hands against his chest again. Their kiss was broken again as he slid his fingers underneath the scooped collar of her dress and quickly pulled down. The fabric tore away easily with his strength and it felt rather satisfying standing there with her torn dress in his hands. She was simply….breathtaking. Nyota had smiled at him then---a slow feral smile as she tried to reciprocate, grasping and pulling hard with both hands, but her strength was not up to ripping his shirt and she succeeded in only pulling him off balance.

He picked her up and dumped her on the bed, toeing off his boots and peeling off his clothes before he kneeled at the foot of the bed.

She was breathing heavily and he was certain he could smell her arousal. She had not taken her eyes off of him and she moved her hands to hook her thumbs through the waistband of her underwear. Slowly she inched them past her hips letting them slip down her bent legs. She was still smiling at him, a challenge to him, perhaps?

He crawled up the bed on his hands and knees, pushing her down and spreading her knees before taking the head of his cock and placing it at the entrance of her very wet hole. He thrust into her suddenly, exhilarated by her low moan.

"You are no longer smiling, Nyota." He was rewarded with a gasp and another moan as he quickened his thrusts. She was so slick and hot and snug around him. The friction from the scrape and glide of his cock inside her was a delicious torture as her emotions continued to sink into him, turning him into a frenzied machine. "My name, Nyota. You will speak it." His voice was hoarse, unused to the strain of her emotions---and his.

"Spock! SpockSpockSpockSpockSpock!" Her head thrashed from side to side. He could feel her orgasm clench her body as he smothered her cry with his own mouth.

Spock stopped and looked down at the front of his pants. His reverie about the night of the return from Platonius had given him a rather huge erection. He sighed resignedly. Clearly this work was not engaging his concentration in a way to take his mind off that fascinating of all subjects: sex with Nyota.

He took a few deep, cleansing breaths and stepped out of the lift. He turned to her side of the bridge out of habit, but stopped short. He could still smell her, her unique scent of her body and lotions and her hair. Tempted, he stepped closer to her. She was standing near the Captain's chair with her back to him. One elegant leg crooked to take a step up and back to her chair. His gaze swept down to where her skirt ended. Her shape was very pleasing to him. The roundness of her buttocks, the long, shapely legs that he could still feel around his waist. Her smooth brown skin and the way she felt naked against him. Spock backed away from her and turned to the other side. Perhaps he should start with Mr. Scott's console first.

He finished the circuitry work and the rest of the repairs in a fairly reasonable time. His earlier….problem had finally returned to a state of rest and Spock decided that it was time to de-accelerate and re-join the rest of the crew. He looked across the bridge to study her motionless figure. He longed to touch her hair again, to feel its cloud-like softness against his cheek.

He would speak with Nyota once their shift had ended. He was disturbed by the intensity of his emotions, especially the way they had returned with such a force just by recalling them. He admitted he felt gratitude towards Nyota. For the way she had listened to him as he haltingly told her of his anger, at himself, at the Platonians, at everyone in the landing party. And at his embarrassment that he was sexually aroused by the experience especially by his lack of control with her afterwards.

"Spock, at some point you are going to have to adjust to the fact that you have very strong emotions. Anger is a perfectly normal reaction to that situation. There's no shame in that. Just as there is no shame in having a little sex to work out some of that anger. I suppose I'd be worried if that was your only outlet. But I've seen you meditate and I know how much that's a part of you too. It's not as if you're in danger of losing yourself."

He was quiet at that and decided he didn't have enough data to respond adequately. He gathered her closer to him and she had fallen into a deep sleep.

He didn't feel the need to alarm her by telling her just how close he had come to losing himself. If this was normal behavior for him, how would he deal with pon-farr? Pon-farr? A knot of dread was forming in his stomach. Surely, these were not the symptoms of an early onset? Had Parmen's actions unleashed something unexpected upon him?

Spock thought about his parents. Sarek said that it had been logical to marry his mother. Had Sarek been in a similar position? Had it been merely logical because of the very real threat of madness and death? Spock took another deep breath. Whether it was pon-farr pushing him into action was irrelevant he decided.

He stood on the bridge holding the de-accelerant in his hand and realized after his 'meditations' today that he did have enough data to respond adequately. He loved Nyota. And he would tell her. The next logical course of action would be to ask her to become his bondmate. He drank from the antidote and watched as the crew came back to life around him. He nodded curtly to the Captain before stepping around the chair, locking eyes with Nyota momentarily before passing her on his way to his station.