Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek.

A/N: My first direct Uhura/Spock fic and my first smut fic. Deep breaths, y'all- be patient with me. I know some might still be waiting for another update after my last lame chapter for Two Wrongs, but I after I started that, my plot hobo packed up his grocery cart and rolled away, no joke. He'll be back, don't worry, but in the meantime, I made this (which is my first smut story, and might have more than one chapter)! Any reviews welcome, flames included. Enjoy!

Listening to: In a Tidal Wave of Mystery (Album) by Capital Cities

Everything was grey, dreary. Wispy clouds sped past the horizon over and over, chasing each other out of sight. She looked around, and found that she couldn't move any faster. Her slow movements, while graceful, were greatly in contrast with the shifting of the sky and sifting sand beneath her bare feet. It may have been reddish, but the overall drab hue made it impossible to tell. The air was hot, and almost too thick to breathe. For miles in almost every direction, all she could see was grey desert. Finally turning back the way she had been facing, she spotted it.

A tall wall stretched out in front of her, standing out when it hadn't before. The clear material of the large bricks seemed to be frosted over. Ice. A shadow, a silhouette was just visible on the other side. It was tall and broad-shouldered, and seemed to be the only source of color in the strange desert of greys. The azure figure on the other side made her mouth water to see all of it- to drink in the full sight of such deep color and the man that was cloaked in it in the midst of the grey. A pale hand suddenly appeared on the ice, and she pressed her smaller brown one to the image, saddened by the silent plea for freedom.

A strong resolve filled her, and cool steel formed in her free hand. A large mallet weighed down the right side of her body, but she placed the other hand on the tool and hefted it up like it was a small pebble rather than an industrial sized hammer.

Stubbornness and determination lifted her arms, and the mallet streaked toward the cold ice. The desert turned upside down, and everything brightened to pearly white-

- Nyota's eyes snapped open, and her vision was blurry from sleep. All she could see was white, and recognized the smooth ceiling of her quarters. The events and conversations of earlier that morning flooded her mind, and she drew in a quick breath. Involuntary tears formed in her eyes, but she heatedly wiped them away and sat up from the synthetic white leather of the couch.

Spock had made his decision. He wasn't coming back.

She got up and raised her arms above her head, stretching her muscles, which had cramped from sleeping on the couch, still in her formal uniform. After all of the cricks in her neck and other joints had been sent straight, she sluggishly went about her morning routine.

"I came in like a wrecking ball," She sang, smiling ruefully at the poor choice of song. The old tune had run its course when it was popular some two hundred years back, but part of it somehow seemed fitting.

"I never hit so hard in love
All I wanted was to break your walls
All you ever did was wreck me
Yeah, you, you wreck me
."

Part of her knew that He had hardly wrecked her. He had made her better, stronger, smarter, and more patient. He had to do what was best for his people, and trying to force him to stay with her aboard the flagship of the fleet would have been selfish- no matter how much she would miss his warmth pressed against hers and their playful, yet intelligent banter. His gentle, tentative kisses and his rough affection behind closed doors.

Dressed in her red uniform with her hair in its customary high ponytail, Nyota headed out of her quarters, head held high and confident mask in place. She was certain, however, that something inside of her was missing; a gaping hole where her heart used to be. She hadn't been in the mod to eat anything that morning…

She rode the turbo lift to the bridge, and the thick soles of her high boots thudded quietly as she maneuvered her way to the communications console. Her mind was now set on prepping everything to leave the dry dock. When all comm. frequencies proved to be open and transmitting properly, she confirmed her readiness to Kirk- well, the captain. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she acknowledged the lift doors opening.

A familiar voice made her stand up and turn so fast, she was nearly sure she'd have whiplash. "Permission to come aboard, Captain."

It was him. Bowl cut, blue uniform, upturned eyebrows and all.

"Permission granted." Kirk grinned, and Uhura, too, couldn't stop the smile that graced her face even if she wanted to.

"As you have yet to select a first officer, respectfully, I would like to submit my candidacy." Her heart beat wildly in her chest at his words, and she was somewhat illogically afraid someone would call her out for being too loud. "Should you desire, I can provide character references."

"It would be my honor, Commander." Kirk replied, fighting back his laughter. "Maneuvering thrusters, Mr. Sulu. Take us out."

"Aye, Captain." Sulu acknowledged. Spock went to stand at his rightful place by the captain's chair, and Nyota smiled softly again at the sight of him back aboard, standing blue by gold next to Kirk's chair, and returned to her station.

Her quarters were, fortunately, sufficient enough in size that pacing was effective. Earlier, all she had felt was relief that he had changed his mind and had come back- even though a small part of her had been fuming that he had decided to part with her and the Enterprise at all in the first place. Yes, New Vulcan was in need, but if it really needed him as much as she did, then why had he come back just now? Why had he decided to let her heart shatter before coming back?

She wanted to wait to see if he would come back and help her put the pieces back together. It had been twenty minutes since the alpha shift had ended, and she had done nothing but change into more comfortable clothes; a thin-strapped lavender tank top and grey shorts that were too short to be considered decent in public- her pajamas. The temperature in her quarters was warmer than it probably would be in anyone else's. Warm climates had always been more her cup of tea, and she vaguely remembered hot weather in her dream hours before.

Speaking of tea, she thought, tapping her chin with one finger and walking over to the small cabinets to begin preparing some non-replicated tea she had brought on board. When a hot- borderline scalding- mug was finally settled between her hands, she inhaled the scent and sighed.

The door chime sounded suddenly, and she jumped so violently some of the tea spilled over the rim of the mug and burned her hand. She hissed in pain, swearing in Swahili, and grabbed her napkin to wipe her hand and the small spill of tea on the counter before getting up and opening the door.

Spock stood, still in uniform, on the other side.

"Spock." She felt and heard herself say.

Twenty minutes was more than enough time to gather his thoughts and go over what he would say to her. The interference of his older self from the alternate universe was one factor to his return that he was unsure as to whether he should mention. The alternate universe wasn't compliant with the one he lived in because of Nero's arrival some years ago and the attack on the Kelvin. Certainly, telling Nyota of Spock Prime's arrival shouldn't be a phenomenon kept secret, since time travel had already been an idea established when it was discovered exactly where Nero had come from?

There would also be discussion of their relationship, now that he had come back aboard. It had been ended when he had first decided to aid New Vulcan in its repopulation efforts. An illogical ache had welled in his chest when he had discussed his decision with Nyota. How easily her anger, sadness, understanding, and gut-wrenching despair flashed simultaneously in her eyes had nearly crumbled his carefully-constructed emotional dam had worried him. It was clear to him, now, that she was as much of a strength to him as she was a weakness. Her presence evoked emotion in him that he should have been ashamed of showing- yet, he was all the more emotionally stable around others when he had her to relax his barriers around.

With her in mind, he made the short trek to her quarters from his own and rang the chime. When she answered her door, he had to mentally keep a firm grasp on his thoughts.

"Spock." She said, blinking. She gestured for him to enter, and he did, hands clasped firmly behind his back. The doors closed with a hiss.

Spock noted that the temperature of her quarters, while still a bit cool to him, were far more agreeable than some other rooms aboard. He turned to face her.

"Nyota," He greeted. The firm grasp started to falter as he became aware of her state of dress… or, rather, lack thereof. He turned, and with some effort looked into her guarded eyes. Deep, dark brown. Although perfectly logical considering their less-than-satisfactory parting, she didn't move any closer to him. It bothered him (though he would never admit it) that she showed no signs of familiarity past greeting him by his name. "If you are agreeable… I wish to discuss some matters with you."

She nodded and led him to her grey, utilitarian couch. They sat, and she turned those dark orbs on him again, expectant and somewhat apprehensive. He sighed almost imperceptibly, and decided to be as honest and forthcoming as possible. No longer did he want to be separated from her as they were now. The air seemed thicker, even though he knew it wasn't.

"I received advice from a rather unexpected source a mere hour before the Enterprise was due to depart. Prior to this, my decision to go to New Vulcan was unstably cemented and the… logical option. The option with the least amount of risks. I think I began to suspect that the most logical option isn't always the most ideal for all parties involved before my enlightening and unexpected conversation, and that it only confirmed my thoughts." He took a breath, and noted that Nyota's eyes had dilated by 7.631 percent.

"And so, I came aboard as soon as my revelation had come about and submitted my candidacy- a gamble, and one well-taken, as I am here; with you, and with the posting that I find most satisfactory. I wish to continue our relationship from where it was before, if you are consenting." He stared at her after the last words were said, and found that he felt desperate for her to say something. Anything.

She stared back at him for what seemed like an hour, but was really only mere seconds. Then, she closed the space between them and wrapped her arms around him. He was still for a beat before tentatively returning the embrace. Her cool arms were comforting around his neck, and he felt himself relax further. She leaned back and touched her forehead against his.

"I am consenting." She leaned forward a bit, and he did as well, and they met in the middle. Her lips were cool and soft and meshed perfectly with his, stoking a slow-burning fire in the pit of his stomach. He urgently moved his own against hers, and felt them shift on the couch. He leaned back against the cushions and she swung her other leg over his lap so that she was straddling him.

She swayed her hips a little, and took notice of his aroused state. She broke apart from their kiss, breathing heavily, and her eyes flickered down to the telling bulge in his trousers before returning to his smoldering dark orbs. She tilted her head toward the doorway that led to her bedroom. His hot hands clasped the underside of her thighs and hefted her up as if she weighed no more than a feather. His lips sought hers once more and they kissed again.

His more primal instincts were beginning to show through the kiss. His teeth and tongue making more of an appearance than in their comparatively chaste kisses before. He placed her carefully on the bed and lifted his shirt over his head before joining her. Their tongues battled for dominance, his pushing and swirling against hers to gain full access to the moist, warm cavern of her mouth. Her tank top had ridden up her flat stomach, and was now only a few inches short of the hem of her bra. Her bottoms, too, had scrunched up around the tops of her thighs and now looked more like panties than shorts.

She pushed lightly on his chest, and moved reluctantly so that she could remove her top as well. It landed on the floor next to his shirt, and he reached behind her to remove her hair tier. Her straight, dark locks fell free and swirled about her head like a halo on the pillow when she lay down. He moved down and lavished the brown swells with attentions with his hot tongue. She moaned, grabbing fistfuls of his silky hair. He lifted her and his steady fingers expertly unclasped the hook of her bra. He massaged her breasts, now bare and in full view, and reclaimed her open mouth once more.

Their skin-to-skin contact had, at first, only provided small notions of muddled emotions to pass between them in a light, telepathic connection. As the lust and urgency reached new heights, every touch, every kiss garnered even more of a reaction. His consciousness was not just a comforting bump against hers; her body simmered with a heat that couldn't just be her own.

She shimmied out of her shorts and kicked them off of her leg. He growled lightly into her mouth and trailed one of his hands down from her breasts to her sides and slid in between the apex of her thighs. Nyota arched her back and moaned when his fingers found their way past the barrier of her regulation underwear, slipping one finger, and then two into her wet heat. They curled upward repeatedly, and Nyota smoothed her hands down over his chest, shuddering with every stroke of his delightfully probing fingers.

Her long, nimble fingers thumbed open his trousers, and he wore black boxers underneath, warm to the touch from his higher body temperature. The powerful pangs of lust shuddered through their bodies, ricocheting endlessly back and forth as a torturously delicious feedback loop.

"Spock…" Nyota moaned, feeling the familiar coil in the pit of her belly; warming her body from head to toe, sending shocks of pleasure that shook her bodily when it finally uncoiled and sprung free. She felt her inner walls contracting around his fingers, and bit her lip when he retracted his two digits that were slick with her juices. She watched with lidded eyes as he raised them to his mouth and sucked on them, tasting her.

They quickly removed the remaining articles of their clothing and lay back down, she on top and straddling him once more in a much more compromising position. Spock placed his hands on her hips not so much to guide her movements as to maintain as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. Nyota grasped his lok gently, giving it a few strokes before slowly sinking down on it. Nyota threw her head back and moaned, and Spock's grip on her hips tightened almost painfully. She moved up and down, grinding and rocking slightly with him pounding up into her.

The sensation, doubled, was too much and Nyota leaned forward, capturing his lips with her own again. Spock flipped them over so that he was on top, grasping both of her ankles and putting them over his shoulders. She cried out, disconnecting their lips as he thrust into her relentlessly, growling and impossibly speeding up as they teetered dangerously close to the edge. Spock pressed his lips to her neck, licking and lightly scraping over the pulse in her neck.

Nyota slid her fingers into his short, silken locks, clutching and tugging handfuls as his tongue did delightfully sinful things to the skin of her neck and his hips pistoned into her with long, hard, fast strokes. The lust that they fed to each other by their touching skin increased exponentially, and Nyota began to shudder, feeling the beginnings of her second orgasm. Spock grit his teeth and his grip on her hips really was painful, blending in with the pleasure and increasing the sensation more.

She finally shattered, coming shakily in his arms and near tears to the shockwaves that wreaked her body. "Spock!" She just about screamed, and he tensed as her vaginal walls closed around his lok, erupting inside of her and biting down- hard- on the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Nyota winced slightly, but the pain was ultimately lost in the post-orgasmic waves washing over her body.

They lay, panting from their fast and exhilarating movements and sticky with perspiration and bodily fluids for a few blissful moments before they both rolled off of the bed and took a long, steamy shower. Afterward, they changed into their nightwear and slipped under the comforter; his front to her back and his arms draped protectively around her.

"I love you, Spock." She yawned into the dark after about ten minutes. His warmth slowly lulled her to sleep, but not before hearing distantly, in the back of her head:

As I love you.