Ok, so I've decided to wander into the enchanted world of multi-chaptered stories. On top of that, this one will probably be more on the serious side with only a dash of humor sprinkled throughout. I'll see where the story leads me.
This is my take on a Spock/Uhura origin story that has the couple meeting before she enters the Academy and while he is still a cadet. Hopefully this little experiment won't be a complete disaster. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.
Oops! I almost forgot. I do not own Star Trek. No, really…I don't.
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Chapter 1
The weathered sign reading Intergalactic Antiques which hung above the door of the small shop indicated to Spock that he had reached his desired destination. He turned the knob and opened the door which felt quite heavy due to the double paned glass stretching from top to bottom. He was a bit startled by the sound of the bell pealing just above his head since he had never seen such a system used to announce one's arrival into a room.
The building was ancient and predated nearly every item that was contained within its walls. Spock could not envision a more appropriate setting for peddling antiques. The air within the long, narrow shop reeked of nostalgia—stale and musty with the slightest scents of old leather and tobacco.
Seated in front of an old, non-functioning cash register at the back of the room was an elderly gentleman examining some merchandise. Spock assumed he was the proprietor. The ringing bell caught the distracted man's attention and he looked towards the front of the shop and politely asked, "Ah! How may I help you, young man?"
"It is my understanding that you are in possession of an ancient Vulcan text that I am most interested in acquiring."
The space between the two men was closed as they began walking towards each other. The older man lowered his eyes to the floor and scratched his temple in an effort to recall the item that Spock was seeking.
"Ancient Vulcan text," the man repeated in a hushed tone.
"Yes. The notice in your advertisement explained that it is a printed, hardcover book produced approximately 400 years ago, providing a comprehensive look into ancient Vulcan society."
Spock pulled out his portable PADD and displayed the advertisement on the diminutive screen to help jog the elder man's memory.
"Yes, yes. Now I remember the piece you're talking about," he smiled.
However, his jovial expression was quickly replaced by a look of dismay.
"You no longer have the piece in question?" Spock inquired.
"Well, I'm not quite sure. Can you give me a few minutes while I check in the back?"
"Certainly," Spock replied.
The man shuffled as quickly as he could to the back of the shop and entered into his office. After several minutes of standing in the same position he was in when the man disappeared behind the door, Spock decided to take a closer look at some of the items in the shop.
With hands clasped tightly behind his back, he weaved his way through the maze of tables and display cases that occupied the cramped space. He bent down to look at a row of cellular phones dated circa 2012, and although crude in their technology, the overall designs of the phones were not that different from the communicators used by Starfleet. Most striking was how varied the ancient devices were in their color. Some were red, some blue, and some even shocking pink. Spock saw this as a testament to the human race's borderline obsession with a need to express individuality in every aspect of their lives—no matter how inconsequential.
Six minutes and 19 seconds had passed before Spock decided to make his way to the back counter to investigate how much longer the shop owner would be in his search. He had a computational physics class scheduled to begin in an hour and he wanted to ensure he had enough time to take the book back to his dorm room so he wouldn't have to carry it around with him for the remainder of the afternoon.
As he turned on his heel to search for the man who had gone missing in action, he was stopped by the sound of the front door being violently thrust open. The bell at the top of the door seemed to jingle for an inordinate amount of time as if it were trembling in fear.
He turned to see a young woman, probably several years younger than himself, standing before him with her chest heaving. She had obviously been running at a high rate of speed for a sustained amount of time. He could see perspiration glistening on her forehead as she skillfully moved a strand of hair that was obstructing her view by forcefully expelling her breath past her bottom lip. She wore a black, long-sleeved blouse that hugged every curve of her torso and faded jeans that clung likewise to her hips. Hips that were now the resting place for two beautiful hands graced with long, tapered fingers. Her slender neck was adorned by a choker made up of seashells of varying shapes and sizes. They fixed their gazes on one another and he could see anger and frustration swirling in her eyes. He instinctively knew that he was the cause of her current state of mind, but he did not know why.
The gentleman emerged from the back of the store and with a tinge of surprise in his voice chimed, "Nyota, you're here."
"Is this the guy, Mr. Edmunds?" she said breathlessly while pointing an accusing finger towards Spock.
"I'm sorry, miss. It appears that I have done something to offend you which is rather puzzling as we have not had the pleasure of meeting one another before this moment."
"Spare me," she curtly replied. "You're looking for a book that is mine."
Edmunds swiftly moved in between Nyota and Spock and began to explain the quandary the trio found themselves in.
"That's not exactly true, Nyota. My apologies, Mr…?" his voice trailed in anticipation of Spock's response.
"My name is Spock, in spite of the young lady's preference to refer to me as 'the guy,'" the cadet coolly replied.
"Mr. Spock, it seems the advertisement you saw is a bit dated."
"I realize that, but I was hoping perchance that the book would still be available."
"Well it's not," Nyota interjected. "Mr. Edmunds has been holding it for me."
"Yes, for more than a year, Nyota, but I can't hold it forever."
"You haven't made an issue about holding it before."
"No one else was interested in buying it before. I'm running a business…you've got to understand. With you two here, this is the busiest the store has been in weeks! And he's the only one ready buy something."
His words shot through Nyota's heart like a dagger, because her head was telling her he was absolutely right. However, her competitive nature wouldn't allow her to go down without a fight.
"Mr. Edmunds, you know I'm good for it. Have I ever been late with the rent?" she pleaded.
"That's not the point," Edmunds sighed. He truly cared for Nyota and held her in high esteem. Even though she was a tenant in the apartment building he owned just down the street, he had come to regard her as a sort of granddaughter and it truly pained him to be doing this to her. However, the 3,500 credits he would receive from selling the book to Spock would ensure many of his expenses would be paid that month—some of them on time for a change.
"Can you give me two more months?"
Edmunds silently shook his head.
"One more month?" she implored as she continued to bargain.
"No, Nyota," he whispered.
Seeing that she was not going to get anywhere with Edmunds, she turned her attention to Spock.
"Mr. Spock, how important is this book to you?"
"Exceedingly. It is a link, not only to my home planet, but to the past of my people.
Preparing for her next statement, Nyota nodded her head in understanding and bit her bottom lip to help steel her nerves.
"Mr. Spock, this book means everything to me."
Spock cocked his head to the side as her statement confounded him.
"In what way, seeing as you are not Vulcan?"
"I can't really explain," she weakly offered as her voice began to crack.
"If you are not able to explain, then how can you say it means everything to you?" Spock queried with genuine curiosity.
"Nyota, please stop. I called to let you know I was selling the book out of courtesy. I didn't expect you to run over here, and I certainly didn't intend for you to discourage this young man from making this purchase."
Nyota could see the pain in Edmunds's eyes as he issued his mild reprimand. She began to feel pangs of guilt for putting him in a position where he felt the need to do so. She knew he needed the credits and she wasn't blind to how slow business was for him, having spent hours in the shop, leisurely leafing through the book, re-reading passages, and taking in the book's antiquated scent.
The aged volume had the power to take her back to a place in time when all was right in her world. A time before her heart had been ripped out of her chest as a result of losses so painful she refused to face them. A time before she lost the will to fight and flight became her defense mechanism of choice. Spock saw the book as a link to his past, but he could never know how much it was a link to Nyota's as well.
A single tear rolled down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away. Edmunds had not seen it since he had already turned to make his way to the back counter to complete the transaction. Spock, however, did see the tear and it increased his desire to know exactly what hold the book had over this fascinating woman named Nyota.
She conceded defeat, nodded her head and took a few steps backward so she could look him directly in the eyes as she declared, "You win."
She opened the door and exited the building, but not before he faintly, yet distinctly, heard her speak words that completely caught him by surprise. Dripping in sarcasm, but in nearly perfect Vulcan she hissed, "Mene sakkhet ur-seveh," which was immediately followed by, "you jerk."
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* Mene sakkhet ur-seveh = Live long and prosper
A/N – Hope you enjoyed this first chapter! I'm really anxious to see the feedback on this one since I'm in uncharted territory. My goal is to have the next chapter up within the next couple of days.