Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing associated with Star Trek. I'm just trying to have a little bit o' fun.

A/N: First Star Trek fic ever! Please be kind! I'm new to this site and to the world of Star Trek and I'm still learning...but, I hope you guys get some enjoyment out of the first chapter. I give you...

A Star to Light the Way

Chapter 1

"Cadet Uhura?"

She jumped at the sound of her name; she'd been so engrossed in the final translations of the old Romulan pamphlet in front of her that she'd completely tuned everything else out. She turned in her seat to find Professor Spock looking at her in his usual impassive manner. Had he been talking to her?

"Sorry, Sir, I didn't hear you," she said. She could feel herself blushing under his gaze, and hoped- unreasonably- that he wouldn't notice how flustered he made her.

It was unreasonable to hope such a thing. What Nyota didn't know at that time was that Spock missed little. He had noted, yet not understood, the deep red coloring that spread slowly over her smooth, copper colored cheeks.

"I said it is well past the time you are required to keep as my assistant. Do not feel the need to translate the Romulan document in its entirety," Spock repeated.

"Oh…well…actually, I was almost finished," Nyota said. Spock, his head tilted to the side, moved closer and looked down at her translations. He reached down and gently touched her pile of notes, lifting up some of the pages.

"Fascinating," he mused. "Your rate of translation is impressive."

He was standing just over her, and her heart caught in her throat as she looked up at him.

Oh, my God, he is so handsome. He is so...perfect, he is so-

Nyota forced herself to look away from him, stopping her inner thoughts. "Thank you," she said, standing up. Spock retreated a few steps as she did, a move she regretted. It thrilled her to have him so close. She sucked in her breath; it figured he wouldn't allow it, her being near him.

"I'm sorry for taking up so much of your time. I just find these readings so interesting. I'm learning a lot of new phrases. I wasn't paying attention to how late it is. You're probably so ready to go home."

Shut up, for God's sake! Calm down, he's just your teacher. That's all he'll ever be! She scolded herself.

"Do not apologize. It is not my intention to return to my quarters until I have graded the exams from my Conversational Vulcan classes. That will take at least two hours. I only meant to let you know it is not your duty to stay after my posted office hours. That "hour" ended fifty three minutes ago," Spock said.

"I don't mind staying with you." Spock frowned slightly, but said nothing, and Nyota realized that what she'd just said could have been interpreted as inappropriate. She shook her head, cursing herself silently, and tried to explain herself. "That came out all wrong...What I meant was, um, that I don't mind staying to help you. Don't you need the translations done before your next Intro to Romulan Theories class?"

"Indeed, I do need them for my class tomorrow, but I am fully capable of finishing the translations."

"Yes, but you have all those exams to grade. And I don't mind. Really. I want to stay," she said. She smiled shyly, looking down at her hands. "I'm your assistant. I want to get my job done. I wouldn't want you to be disappointed in me."

"To find your work ethic disappointing is illogical. You have always succeeded in surpassing my expectations," Spock said. He gestured towards her seat. "If it pleases you to finish the translations, you are welcome to stay. And thank you, for being so dedicated to your duty."

"You're welcome, Sir," she answered, and sat down quickly. It was a good thing, because her knees were just about ready to buckle underneath the cool, detached stare of his dark eyes. Eyes that she knew must keep all kinds of emotions hidden. If only there were some hidden emotions for her…maybe…

You almost gave yourself away. Of course there are no hidden feelings for you. He's a Vulcan, duh. You can't be fall for him, he's too damn weird, Nyota thought feverishly. She scooted her chair up closer to her desk, and tried hard to concentrate on deciphering the last few pages of the Romulan paper. The last thing she needed in her life was to get caught up in some dead end emotional frenzy with her teacher. He would never want her; he would never dream of wanting her.

That's that. Now do your work so you can go home and get some sleep, she told herself.

What Nyota didn't know was that Spock was finding it nearly impossible to concentrate in her presence. It confused him, because even though he'd just attempted to get her to leave, he was pleased beyond reason that she had wanted to stay. After tonight, he would not see her again in this proximity until Thursday, when she had a class with him as well as her assisting duties. Today was only Tuesday. When did one and a half days start feeling like an eternity?

He clicked open the next PADD in front of him and was stopped cold when he caught the slightest trace of Nyota's scent floating through the air as she shifted in her seat. It was a sweet smell, almost like vanilla, yet with a hint of...floral, perhaps? He couldn't be sure. Yet he found the aroma intoxicating. He knew the scent would linger long after she'd gone, and he would be grateful for it when he was working alone late into the night.

Spock fought against it, but was powerlessly drawn to occasional glances at her. He observed every detail he could in those few moments where his eyes would not- could not- look away. He noticed the way her long, black hair fell like a curtain over her shoulder, brushing over the small desk where she scribbled her notes furiously. Every few minutes, she would fling it back, but slowly, her hair would fall forward in the exact same resting place as before. Illogically, he made a mental note that it would delight him just to watch that particular move all day. Some mintues passed, and next he was gazing at her boot tucked behind the right leg of her chair. Sometimes, she muttered to herself in Swahili. He couldn't make out the words, but found himself wanting to know. What was she thinking about as she poured over those pages? What had she noticed that caused her to mutter?

There had been three times that evening when she had looked up and caught him staring at her. Both of them would look away at once, but each time her slanted brown eyes met his, something inside of him moved, like a bird with tiny wings, flapping, trapped inside his chest.

It wasn't the first time these new and baffling sensations had bubbled up inside of Spock. Cadet Uhura had caused them since the first time she had walked through the doors of his Introduction to Vulcan class on a cloudless Tuesday morning. Until that day, he had accepted that he would follow suit with his arranged marriage to T'Pring, whom he felt not a thing for, and would never; yet he was Vulcan, and so was she, and it was his duty to follow the traditions of his father's people. He had tried his whole life to make his father proud, and to prove to those who despised his mixed heritage that he could be completely Vulcan in his mannerisms. He worked hard to carefully meditate away any traces of emotion. He'd successfully meditated through his first pon farr at age 17, wanting to tackle what was said to be the most difficult event to go through without a physical release for many Vulcan males. He wanted to prove that he was not weaker than his full blooded Vulcan acquaintances. His second pon farr was coming up within the next year, and he was perfectly willing to locate T'Pring at the time and perform the necessary ceremonies to bond the two of them.

That had been his very logical plan, thought carefully through. But he had not counted on Nyota Uhura to enter into his life and throw everything off.

Since meeting her, and certainly since he had started getting to know her through classes and now as his assistant, she was occupying a larger and larger part of his thoughts day by day. Something about her made him unsteady, even nervous at times. He had never had such feelings before, and it confused him. He had already disappointed his father by rejecting the invitation to the Vulcan Science Academy. He wasn't sure what his father's reaction might be should he even hint at the idea of becoming close to a human female. Spock did not have the excuse of being an Ambassador to Earth as the logical answer as to why one would choose a human to bond with; Spock had chosen to enlist in Starfleet. And even though his mother was human, he couldn't bear the thought of having any child of his go through the taunting and bullying he had endured simply for being a "half breed".

But wait, here he was, being illogical in his thoughts again. Thinking about mixed heritage children and taunting, and those "children" did not even exist. He was sure that Cadet Uhura regarded him as someone she could look up to and learn a great deal from, but she certainly was not interested in him beyond that. Certainly not. As beautiful as she was, he was certain she was being courted by several human males, and probably some who were not her species. The extroverts and the intellects, the trouble makers and the top scholars. She could have her pick of any of them. She would not waste her time with, as he had heard himself referred to before, a "freak" such as himself.

Spock would go home tonight and meditate until the morning light. No matter how incredibly beautiful, exotic and intelligent she was, it was simply illogical in every sense of the word to allow her to interfere with his carefully governed emotions, his vigilantly laid out plans. He made a vow that his mother would be the only human female he would ever love.

Then, helplessly, his eyes swept over her once more. Her hair was a curtain covering her face, and she'd begun to twirl a section of that long black silk around her finger, over and over. He swallowed hard as the too familiar feeling of a trapped bird beat imaginary wings against his chest once more.

He knew his vow had come too late.