While Spock considered himself to be well-adjusted to life on Earth, there were still some elements of his Vulcan physiology that caused him difficulty. There was his higher body temperature, which caused him to be conspicuously overdressed in all seasons and there was his monotone voice, which made him sound mechanical when he meant to be sympathetic. But worst of all, was his inability to lie.
He first realized it was a problem when he and Captain Pike were having dinner with some admirals. After they were introduced, Spock stood up silently and shook their hands.
"You're supposed to say 'pleased to meet you'," Pike corrected him quietly after he sat down.
"But I am not pleased to meet them," Spock's voice rang across the table, "They are strangers and I could be using this time to mark papers, sir."
Pike gave Spock a long, strange glare before his expression turned to one of understanding.
"Like many Vulcans," Pike said loudly, "Spock is a man of such integrity that he has lost use of the portion of the brain he needs to lie."
Slowly, everyone at the table started laughing. And Pike had even made it sound like a compliment. But Spock realized that this was just the beginning of his problems.
Thankfully, Pike was helpful. He made excuses for Spock and thought up some statements that were technically true that he could use in emergencies. But more importantly, he helped Spock deal with unforeseen difficulties.
"What does one do when his girlfriend is angry at him?" Spock asked Pike one day.
Pike knew he had a girlfriend, although not her identity. He had been the one to explain to Spock the intricacies of dating. At first Spock had been reluctant—he thought the time spent amusing and impressing a woman could better used for something sensible like planning their wedding, but Pike had convinced him that mating opportunities would be rather thin otherwise. Sex was something that Spock found himself literally unable to deny being interested in.
"That depends, who is your girlfriend?" Pike asked, trying to catch Spock off-guard.
"Answering that question would be unwise," Spock recited.
Pike smiled at having his own line thrown back at him.
"Why not?" he asked.
"Vulcans are very private people," Spock replied vaguely.
Pike smiled, as if looking at his own son.
"I won't tell, I promise," he said, "And I hope you know I am someone you can trust."
Spock felt a pang in his stomach which he tried to suppress. Pike had done a lot for him.
"She is my subordinate," he admitted finally.
Pike suddenly looked concerned.
"Spock," he said, "You can't lie and you have absolutely no relationship skills to think of. What could have possibly made you think that dating a student was a good idea?!"
"I think I love her," Spock replied slowly, looking down.
Pike raised his hands in exasperation.
"Brother!" he swore.
The fight began, Spock explained, when he took Nyota to the opera. She looked beautiful in her fancy dress and dainty shoes, but Spock's eyes settled on the single offending feature: she had cut her hair.
He avoided mentioning it up until intermission, when they went out onto the balcony to look at the view. Spock thought it was a little piece of paradise, holding her in his arms as they looked at the city, but Nyota asked,
"Do you like my new hair? Gaila says it's darling."
"Gaila knows more about hair than I do," Spock replied cautiously, following Pike's advice. Unfortunately, Nyota was wise to all his tricks.
"What's wrong with it?" she demanded.
"Nothing," he replied honestly. She wrenched herself out of his arms and turned to face him.
"Then why don't you like it?" she insisted. Spock's mind reeled, but he couldn't think of any more vague statements.
"I have lurid fantasies regarding exactly how far it hangs down when you are naked," he replied matter-of- factly.
Her expression turned from upset to horrified. The balcony was crowded. He had spoken rather loudly.
"We can discuss this later," she snapped, dragging him off.
She was snippish for the rest of the evening, but Spock wouldn't have really called her angry until he dropped her off at her quarters.
"We need to discuss your hair," he said, "You said we would discuss it later."
Nyota looked like she was about to scream.
"When I said we would discuss this later, I meant I never wanted to discuss it again," she hissed.
"What do you say when you actually want to discuss something later?" Spock asked curiously.
She walked in the door without saying goodbye and slammed it behind her.
For the next week, Spock followed Pike's suggestions carefully. He didn't mention offensive topics, he avoided answering questions and he spoke in generalities. And he was rewarded. At the end of that week, he accomplished what he considered to be an important milestone in the relationship. She took his pants off.
As she stroked, Spock stopped thinking about anything but her. She bit his ear and provocatively whispered,
"When's the last time someone's touched you like this?"
"Dr. McCoy did, thirteen days ago," he answered honestly.
"What!?" she spat.
"I had a fungal infection," he elaborated, "He did a genital exam."
"And you're likening the way I'm touching you to that?" she demanded.
"Yes," Spock stated, "The movements are very similar."
He started to kiss her again, but she didn't seem interested.
"Can we go play chess or something?" she asked. She washed her hands thoroughly before she sat down.
Still, she wasn't angry enough to start an argument until she discussed her friend Mina. Spock was civil to Mina because she was Nyota's friend, but as an instructor, he didn't think she belonged at Starfleet Academy.
Spock nodded silently for most of the conversation, but then Nyota asked him directly,
"Why do you think Mina can't find a boyfriend?"
Spock hesitated and even attempted a shrug, but Nyota's waiting stare prompted an answer.
"She is not very bright and her voice is irritating," Spock replied eventually.
"She's not that bad," Nyota countered, still looking at him.
"Her figure," he said finally, "Is disproportionate."
"What!?" Nyota snapped.
"Her hips are much larger than her shoulders. It is not visually appealing."
Nyota stared at him, shocked,
"Do you mean to say that you spend your time gauging the attractiveness of my friends?" she demanded.
"Yes," replied Spock.
Nyota gave him an enraged, exasperated glare.
"You are the least sensitive, most unromantic man I have ever met!" she screamed.
Though upset, Spock thought about this critically.
"That is unlikely," he responded.
She hissed.
Knowing she was incorrect, Spock grabbed a PADD and began writing down probabilities. He didn't notice that Nyota was stomping around the room, fuming.
" This is the number of men you meet in any given day during your translating duties," he started.
She walked over to the bookshelf, picked up a book and slammed it down on the table in frustration.
"Introduction to Bolian Phonology," he read, "This book is not on the subject of probability."
She looked at him silently, seething.
"Get out!," she breathed.
It wasn't the response Spock had hoped for, but at least it was unambiguous.
The next morning, Spock walked to Pike's office. After ascertaining Nyota's identity and chortling slightly at the story, Pike started to make suggestions. During his marriage, he had often found that cooking his wife dinner cleared up arguments. Spock agreed to try it, but had one last question for Pike,
"I still do not understand why Nyota was angry that I found her friend unattractive."
Pike looked contemplative.
"And my wife divorced me for saying all her friends were attractive," he mused, "Strange world, isn't it."
While Spock was eager to try Pike's suggestion, he soon realized that cooking would be problematic. His parents had employed several servants, and as a pampered only child, he never been required to do the occasional chore that did arise. Before Starfleet, he had never made his bed or folded his clothes. And he had certainly never cooked a meal.
That said, unlike exploring space, people had been cooking for generations. Spock figured it couldn't be that difficult. He found a recipe for vegetarian stir-fry and went to the grocery store to get the ingredients. He had never bought groceries before, so he had trouble finding them, but in the end he filled his cart. The only item he couldn't find was dry red wine, so he decided to go with the wet type.
Fortunately, Nyota and Gaila had moved to an apartment with a kitchen for the summer, so Spock let himself in. Looking at the recipe, he put fifty grams of rice in a pot and turned the stove to medium. Then he started cutting vegetables. The knife cut easily, a few zucchini down the line Spock realized that he was also cutting though the countertop. He finished up quickly, and went to make the sauce.
The first ingredient was flour. He wasn't quite sure how to measure five grams, but he figured he could probably just pour some onto the scale. He was surprised when it poured out quickly, covering the floor and counter. He was trying to sweep it back into the bag when Nyota came in.
"What are you doing here!?" she demanded. Then she ran towards the stove. The pot of rice was smoking.
"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, lifting up the pot.
"Preparing rice," Spock answered.
She shoved the pot at him,
"You idiot! You're supposed to put water in!"
The recipe had said nothing about water. And Nyota was fuming.
"You know what I'm going to do?" she yelled, "I'm going to spend the night at Mina's, and when I come back, you and your mess are going to be gone, and I'm going to think that this all was a bad dream."
Spock looked around. The floor was covered in flour, the counter was damaged and there were several dirty dishes. And he had never so much as washed a dish before. It was going to be a long night.
The next day, Spock decided he would have to try something different. He remembered that Pike had told him about a time he had bought his ex-wife perfume. Spock wasn't sure what perfume was, so he looked it up. A toiletry that emits and diffuses a fragrant odour the dictionary said. Thankfully, he knew where to get something like that. He went to the drug store and picked up a box of deodorant.
Gift in hand, he knocked on Nyota's door.
"I would like to apologize," Spock said as soon as she opened it, handing her the deodorant. She looked at the box, confused.
"Why are you giving me this?" she asked, "Do I smell bad?"
"Sometimes," Spock replied.
She slammed the door in his face.
Pacing around his quarters, Spock wondered if it was all futile. Nothing he was doing seemed to be working and he was out of ideas. Maybe Pike was right that he had no relationship skills.
But the more Spock thought about it, he realized that he would have to try again. He couldn't just let go of her. He wanted to at least say goodbye. He went to her door and knocked on it.
"Why are you here?" Nyota asked as soon as she saw him.
He paused.
"I miss you," he said honestly, "I think about you all the time."
She looked stern for a moment, but then her expression melted and she motioned him inside. They stood face-to-face for a minute before she put her arms around him.
"I guess I'm too hard on you sometimes," she breathed into his ear and kissed him. He lifted his arm and ran his hand through her hair.
"I'm growing it out again," she whispered and his grip tightened reflexively.
As they stood in her living room kissing, Spock thought of the note he had put in his pocket, lest she refuse to open the door.
Dear Nyota,
I apologize for my honestly. I will strive to be less honest in the future.
Love,
Spock
A/N: This was written for Ship Wars Prompt 4: In the Doghouse