Steadied
*Spock*
He had awoken that morning to an uncharacteristic state of painful arousal. He was slightly out of breath, his heart rate increased significantly, and it took him a full two seconds to recall exactly where he was. The early light of pre-dawn was peeking through the bedroom window of his off campus apartment at his ritual rising time of 0430 hours, but his mind was erratic. He had dreamt of her. Again. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, scrubbing his eyes aggressively to rid himself of the picture behind them. This was illogical. Unacceptable. Inappropriate.
His subconscious visions of his teaching assistant were growing ever more sexual in nature, and he had been forced on numerous occasions to rise 30 minutes early during the last 8 months, 12 days, and 5 hours of her time under his employment in an attempt to subdue his physical manifestation of these dreams in extended meditation. Given that, he was still only able to erase the… feelings she awoke in him until she was once again in his presence.
Her understanding of his culture, peerless skill in languages and communication, and, as he was ashamed to admit even to himself, striking aesthetic attractiveness, left him breathless every day. Nyota Uhura was a most agreeable woman. A woman he should, even in sleep, be able to treat with professional respect, and he had instead dreamt of shoving her through his bedroom door, and fucking her into his mattress.
He surged up, and strode into his small, en suite bathroom to splash icy cold water on his flushed face. He had hoped the shock of this would help to calm his unease. When it did not, he showered in the sonic setting to allow himself more time to sit before his asenoi. Once clean, he changed into a soft cotton t-shirt and loose fitting meditation pants, and did just that, running through a long breathing exercise.
In frustration as opposed to an actual knowledge of whether it would be of use, rather than simply tamping down on these emotions-which had proven to be a futile endeavor of late-he allowed them to come to the forefront of his mind where they might be identified.
Firstly, he felt his near obsessive need to be close to her, and subsequently his guilt in this. He had, on five separate instances, intentionally delayed her parting from their shared office with irrelevant inquiries and conversation that he had convinced himself were not unwelcome. Her gentle tone and acquired comfort in his presence in those times had not implied the contrary. She had answered his questions regarding the illogical nature of human interactions until he had had to walk her back to her dormitory, as they had passed curfew each time. He felt his odd satisfaction at having made her laugh at a few of those awkwardly posed interrogations, and his endearment at her thoughtful expression as she had tried to address them in a way that his Vulcan unawareness would understand.
He felt his discomfort and thrill of nervous energy when he would see her hand move towards his arm to grab at his attention, and his relief and disappointment when she would remember herself and pull it back.
He felt his irritation after a short, but particularly tense call he had taken from his father while seated next to her at his desk, and his sense of a weight being lifted off his shoulders after recalling to her his separation from T'Pring. She had responded with sympathy, and had not pressed him further when he had fallen silent. He was eternally grateful for her listening ear.
Finally, he felt his acute anger when, over dinner, she had recounted a time just two weeks previously when a fellow cadet had gone too far in a practice sparring session, and had badly sprained her wrist. It had pulled at a deep, instinctual part of him that spoke to his very katra. Another male had put his hands on her, had caused her pain. He felt the tingle of this dark emotion rise up his spine at the thought. The cadet in question had been reprimanded, he knew, and her injury had healed rather quickly, but he felt as though he could break the wrist of the young man that had used such unnecessary force on her. She had grown accustomed to his micro-expressions, and had attempted to calm him by explaining the doctors suggestions for recovery. She had stated that they were not needed for such a minor affliction, and had even voiced her regret for having told him the tale at all. She did not like to see him so "worked up" as she had put it. If only she truly knew her own ability to make him this way.
Having sufficiently flooded the gate so to speak, he focused his mind on the source of these emotions, which he had named easily enough, and was able to compartmentalize them adequately. He allowed himself another five minutes of clear minded breathing before opening his eyes to the full light of Earth's sun. His internal clock informed him that he had been in meditation for 2 hours and 15 minutes, and as he was indeed feeling far more rested, he rose to prepare his morning tea. As it was the first day of yet another pointless mid-term break, he did not have much on his agenda today after a quick trip to the lab adjoining his office, but he supposed he would find a satisfactory amount of work in the plans for the Enterprise to remain productive.
He carefully extinguished the flame in his fire pot, and with any success, his ruminations on Cadet Uhura would burn out in a similar manner.