Disclaimer: I definitely own Star Trek. Wait, that was a dream.

I don't write a lot of fanfiction, but this movie is basically epic awesome. This little scene takes place after Nyota and Spock kiss in the elevator, but before we see them again as Spock and Kirk prepare to beam onto the Romulan ship. Reviews are delicious.

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"Come in," Nyota spoke loudly, not bothering to move from her desk. She had been relieved for the hour, but she couldn't possibly eat or sleep. She had been pouring her attention into researching the Romulin Empire. She didn't want the gravity of the current situation to sink in just yet. The door to her temporary quarters whirred open.

"Lieutenant Uhura."

This voice was not one she had been expecting. She spun her chair around quickly to find her superior standing in the doorway. "Spock," she said quietly, but then corrected herself. "Captain."

"While it is probably unnecessary, I believed it would be beneficial to check on you." He was stoic as ever. Lieutenant Uhura suddenly felt like a nervous cadet again, and reminded herself that she had been a mere day ago.

"Oh," she said flatly. She didn't quite know how to respond. "I'm fine."

"You have been crying," he pointed out plainly. The lieutenant's expression fell dramatically.

"Gaila is dead," she whispered. She was disappointed in her immediately cracked defenses. She didn't want to think about this now. "My room mate, she was on the Farragut. I knew as soon as we arrived near Vulcan, but having this alone time is giving me too many opportunities to really think about it."

"I see," Spock spoke without emotion. He suspected that she had more to say, and his interference would only draw her confession out longer.

"I was assigned to the Farragut," she continued.

"Yes, you were," the young captain confirmed. He worried, momentarily, that this conversation might develop into an unanticipated meltdown on her part. He should not have come here. He should have sent someone who could understand and comfort her. She did not deserve to be so exposed before him.

"Spock, I shouldn't be here," her voice cracked in an inarguably human fashion.

He moved towards her urgently, but stopped before he might intrude upon her personal space. The lieutenant's eyes had adopted a glassy quality, and Spock decided that her renewed crying was now inevitable. "Nyota," he said, firmly, "You are precisely where you should be."

His prediction was correct. The tears fell.

"What if I hadn't been on the Enterprise?" she was barely audible through her small sobs. She felt stupid for allowing this to happen now, during this mission, when crewmembers were counting on her. It was so selfish. This man had just lost his planet, his mother, his culture, and she was crying over a room mate she barely knew? Why couldn't she hold off on this until she was safely back on Earth? Of course, she noted pessimistically, she might not make it back. After all, she had already cheated death once.

He suspected that it would be appropriate to reach out to her, to touch her shoulder or even to embrace her, but he did not know how to initiate such a personal gesture. Instead he used words. "Had you been on the Farragut, Nyota, today would have been a considerably more painful experience for me."

She looked up at him suddenly, interpreting his words, he assumed, as he had intended them. "Earlier," she began, "When you… I thought maybe I had overstepped my—"

"Boundaries?" Spock cut her off. "Yes, you most certainly did." He noticed the helpless look in her wet eyes and continued, "What you did was not unwelcome."

"Oh," she said again, feeling dumb for not formulating the more meaningful, eloquent response that he deserved.

"The reality of your observation did not escape me," Spock explained levelly. "As soon as the Enterprise arrived to find all those ships, I was grateful to you for asking—no, demanding—to be reassigned." His lips twitched slightly in what Nyota assumed to be a Vulcan smile. What he said next was not in the same manner. "I would have considered myself fully culpable for sending Starfleet's brightest cadet to her death."

She exhaled a breath that she hadn't known she was holding. "You were just trying to do the right thing."

"You are incorrect, though your misconception is flattering," Spock asserted. "I assigned you to the Farragut for my own personal interests. I did not want anyone to suspect my feelings towards you."

Nyota felt her skin flush and was suddenly quite thankful for her dark complexion.

"I wanted you here," Spock ventured, "and that was why I could not have you here. It had not occurred to me that I might, in fact, need you here."

Need. Nyota found the way he emphasized this word intoxicating. She stood up suddenly, determined to close the inches between them. He eyed her suspiciously, before realizing that she intended to repeat what had happened earlier. He softened. This was such a human moment, one he wanted to live in for as long as possible. He waited for her soft lips, her warm arms—

"Lieutenant Uhura," the intercom buzzed to life, and Spock believed he almost jolted from the shock. "You're needed on deck."

"On my way," she said immediately, and she threw the Captain a wistful glance, suspecting that he had just taken a particularly long restroom break.