A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. I've been holding back on the fanfic for a few years, and working on my own writing projects. But I just loved this movie so much – it's officially my favourite now (And it's been a good 15 or so years since I've had a 'favourite' movie) – and I couldn't not write fanfiction about it. I've got 5 other stories (yes, all Uhura/Spock based) in various stages of development. One is a 'how they met' story taking place before the movie – that goes into those 'common places of interest' Uhura mentioned in Part One of this fic. It's actually a direct prequel to this story. Actually, all but 2 of my upcoming tales could be considered in the same cannon. Anyway, it feels great to be writing fanfic again – I love – LOVE getting reviews. Greatest feeling in the world (aside from watching Star Trek again – 4 times in theatre and counting…) I'm publishing this chapter… to be honest I don't know if it should be up now – seems a little choppy to me, but I'm going with it. Sometimes you just have to let your characters take you where they want you to go. For those of you familiar with my fanfiction, you'll remember that mine tend to walk a little closer to the dark side than usual. Hopefully I've reeled you in far enough with this chappy so that you'll have no choice but to go along with whatever ride I decide to take you on. Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!!!!!

And now, on with the show!

Observed

Part 2

by Maven Cree

Seated by himself in the mess hall, Commander Spock quietly ate his meal without actually focussing on it. Apparently, most of the humans on board the Enterprise seemed to think that the difference in his Vulcan ears was merely cosmetic. They had never stopped to consider that he might actually have a wider hearing range than any of them. What else would logically explain their verbal speculations of him whilst he was in such a close proximity? They spoke in hushed voices that would have been an effective deterrent for any human seated three tables away, but Spock… he could hear every word.

"Well I don't believe it."

"Keller shares quarters with Preeva and Preeva was there."

"He's a Vulcan. Vulcan's don't kiss in public. Hell I don't know that they kiss at all."

There was a snort of quiet laughter then a third voice joined the argument. "Ya, well, before that incident on the bridge, I didn't know a Vulcan could get pissed off. He kicked Captain Kirk's ass. Thoroughly."

"Kirk wasn't Captain when that happened."

"You know what I mean…"

Spock sighed. He would never understand the human need to indulge in idle gossip, but the reminder of his actions after Kirk's goading, remained a sour point with him. He recalled a brief conversation that took place between him and his new acting captain, several hours after the destruction of Nero and his ship. Jim had asked Spock to join him in the conference room.

"Spock, I while we have a minute, I just wanted to apologize," he'd said.

"Apologize?"

"For the things I… For what I said… You know… about you and your mother. I want you to know that I didn't mean it. Any of it. It was killing me to say those things, but... I couldn't see any other way around it. You do realize why I did it, don't you?"

"You wished to initiate Regulation 619, Captain, and were successful in doing so. Your results proved effective and indeed saved Earth from suffering the same fate as Vulcan. Therefore you were correct in your actions. There is no need to apologize."

"Oh, there's a need," he'd replied. "I'm not 'that guy'. I may be something of a jerk sometimes, but even I know what lines should never be crossed. Again, I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"I accept your apology Jim, and offer one of my own for the same situation," Spock had told him.

"I pushed you into that."

"You pushed. But reacting to it was my decision. I shall make every attempt not to repeat those actions in the future."

Kirk rubbed his neck, a dark bruise peaking out from under the collar. "Much appreciated, Commander," he said with a smile. "I knew you Vulcans were strong, but damn!"

They had not spoken of the incident since. He found himself surprised at how quickly an earnest comradely had developed between he and the Captain. Of course there were the words of his elder self to consider, but the speed at which his attitude towards Jim had changed was perplexing.

"So how long do you think it's been going on?" asked one of the voices, three tables back.

Spock felt a mild headache coming on.

"Mind if we join you, Commander?"

Spock looked up. Mr. Scott and Dr McCoy approached with their own meals in hand.

"Please," Spock said, indicating the seats closest to him. McCoy sat down across from Spock and Scottie sat between them at the table end.

"You know, I had the oddest ponderance this morning," Scottie mused. "If I could ever meet my older self, what would I ask him? What would I want to know? Or would I want to know anything at all…? How about you, Dr McCoy?"

The chief physician swallowed his bite of roast beef sandwich. "Don't know so much about my older self, but I'd sure as hell tell my younger self not to go on that ski weekend to Banff."

"Why's that?"

McCoy grimaced. "That's where I met the ex."

"Ah. Perfectly reasonable. What about you Mr. Spock?"

The Commander raised an eyebrow.

"Is this you inelegant way of trying to ascertain as to whether or not I have met Ambassador Spock?"

"Very inelegant, yes," Scottie said with a smile.

"I have, as I am aware that you have as well."

"Aye. But what was that like for you. I canna imagine!"

"Fascinating. He was not as I would have expected. I would have thought his demeanour would be somewhat more along the line of my father's. It was not. He appeared to be more…"

"…Content," Scottie said absently. "Er, No offence Commander."

"None taken. I will admit that the Ambassador appears to be more… comfortable with himself. Not unusual given his age. It should be expected that one has a greater understanding of one's self as the years go on."

"Quite the gentleman, he was. How old is he?"

"One hundred fifty-five point four years by human standards."

"We should all be so hale," McCoy said. "How old to Vulcans get anyway? Professional curiosity."

"The oldest known Vulcan on record lived to the age of 304.2. However the average age for a Vulcan male in good heath – given current medical practices – is 244.7 years of age."

"So he's still has a ways to go then."

"Unknown, Mr Scott. Although the majority of my physiology is Vulcan, I am half human; the first known Human/Vulcan hybrid to survive past infancy. It would be illogical to ignore any possible impact that my Terran genes might have on my aging process."

"Always looking on the bright side, aren't you Spock?"

"I am merely stating a fact Doctor. I know it is sometimes difficult for humans to speak in such a matter."

"If I didn't know better Spock, I'd say you sounded a little bitter just then."

"Fortunately you do know better, Doctor."

McCoy looked past Spock. It was just the beginning of the lunch hour and the room was not yet fully populated. He could clearly see the crewmembers seated three tables away. It was obvious from their covert looks that his own table held their interest.

"Can you hear them?" McCoy asked, intrigue in his voice.

"Hear who?" Scottie asked.

"If you are referring to Ensign Talsman, Ensign Octel and Lieutenant David conversing on the likelihood of my using secret Vulcan telepathy on Lt Uhura, then yes, I can hear them."

"Oh, that!" Scottie said, waving his hand dismissively. "Pay them no mind, Commander. Gossip mongers, the lot."

"Indeed. A most curious human pastime."

"They're not… bothering you are they, Spock?" McCoy teased.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "They are bothering Lt Uhura. The term 'fishbowl' has come up more than once in conversation."

"Secrets breed speculation, Spock. People hear whispers and they want to know what's going on. They don't know what's going on, they start making stuff up."

"Aye, exactly. Once folks know for sure that you two are… involved, they'll start takin' ya for granted."

"This was intended to be a ship of professionals."

"This is a closed environment, Spock," McCoy countered.

"And I suppose the fact that it is none of their business, doesn't apply?"

"Exactly," both Scottie and McCoy said in unison.

Spock shook his head. "Most illogical."

STstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstST

"Lieutenant, I have this week's Summary Reports for subspace transmission."

"Ready for transmission, Commander," Uhura said. She turned her chair and accepted the first PADD from Spock, who was now standing next to her. She imputed the first coordinates and uploaded the information. She sighed, heavily.

"Is it just me, or did it just get quieter in here?"

"The general volume on the bridge just lowered by .35 decibels," Spock confirmed. He handed her a second PADD.

"This is ridiculous."

Spock lowered his voice. "Mr Scott and Dr McCoy seem to be under the impression that the scrutiny and speculation will cease once the crew has confirmation of their suspicions."

Uhura paused, her hand in the air, having just received the third PADD. She stared up at him incredulously. "I don't believe that entertaining the troops is in either of our job descriptions, Commander."

Spock tilted his head in consideration. "You were a member of the Cadet Chorus," he pointed out.

The Lieutenant narrowed her eyes.

"A simple statement of fact, Lieutenant."

"I do believe you're the one with the lyre sitting on the shelf in your quarters," she said quietly.

He handed her the final PADD. "We were discussing public performances, were we not?" He retreated to his own chair before she could respond.

She recognized, as few would, that he was teasing her, and she was amused, but she still needed to fight the temptation to throw her earpiece at him.

STstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstSTSTstSTstST

Uhura stood with her back to the wall and looked around her quarters. She nodded to herself in satisfaction.

Her own quarters.

She hadn't expected to have her own quarters for several more years. She had fast-tracked herself through the academy – had finished her courses in three years not four. The next expected step was to be assigned to a starship – preferably the Enterprise, which had been scheduled for its maiden voyage around the same time of her intended graduation. She'd achieved the status of Lieutenant during her course line, and as such she'd expected to be assigned to a double room with a single roommate – thankfully, given her rank, she wouldn't have been crammed into one of the cramped four person crew quarters. That was what she had expected.

And then there was the distress call from Vulcan.

Once on the Enterprise, she had indeed be assigned a double occupancy. A room she'd seen only momentarily in order to change from her cadet uniform into her Starfleet uniform.

And then…

"Uhura, relieve the Lieutenant."

Field promotion. Not only a full Lieutenant, but a bridge officer. Head of ship's communications, not just another cog in the communications pool. She'd have preferred that the circumstances would have been different, of course. But for a split second, just after Pike's words, she'd allowed herself a moment of happiness in what was rapidly becoming an increasingly bad situation.

Upon their return to Earth, those cadets who had taken part in the battle of Vulcan were, if desired, fast tracked to the end of their course load. Graduation was a month afterwards, with consideration given to those who had been injured during the conflict. Three weeks after that she'd been informed that her field promotion stood and she was to report to the USS Enterprise upon completion of its repairs, to take her position as the vessel's head communications officer.

Her own quarters.

There were those of higher rank than her that still needed to share a room, but being a bridge officer had its benefits.

They'd been underway for a week and she had now finally finished setting the room to her satisfaction.

She'd been off duty for an hour now and it was still fairly early in the evening. As much as she enjoyed her new setting, Uhura felt like some company.

Five minutes later the Communications Officer walked into the general recreation room and looked around. There were various groups of crewmembers scattered about different areas. She saw young Chekhov standing on the edge of one loosely gathered group that was around a table and made her way in that direction. At the table, Spock and Kirk were engaged in a game of three-dimensional chess. She managed to maneuver herself up to the end of the table to watch the match.

Spock moved his Queen to Queen's level three.

"Check," he said.

Kirk rubbed his chin then moved made his counter move taking his King out of harms way. Two more moves were exchanged before Spock again said, "Check."

Jim smirked. "Perhaps," he said and moved his King's level Bishop on its own plane. "But I believe this, is called Check Mate."

The group applauded as Spock ran his eyes over the board. He nodded in concession. "Indeed. It appears that your non-logical strategy has its advantages. Well played."

"Knowing your opponent helps," Jim smiled.

"Spock, weren't you the Academy's Grand Master?" Dr McCoy asked.

"I was. That does not mean that I never lose."

A mischievous thought occurred to Uhura.

"Oh I don't know about that," she said. "After all there's winning and then there's wining… Jim may have won the match, but Spock gets the prize."

"Prize?" the Captain asked.

Uhura placed a hand on the base of Spock's neck then leaned over and kissed him. There were a few wolf whistles, some applause and Jim started complaining.

"Oh that's not fair. That is so not fair."

She broke off the kiss gracing the Commander with a smile and a wink. He raised an amused eyebrow.

"Well, what do I get?" Kirk asked.

Spock crossed his arms. "The thrill of victory," he said plainly, causing an eruption of laughter from the assembled group.

"Yeah, keep laughing. Wait 'till you all see next week's duty schedule," Jim warned, but he too was smiling.

No one noticed a very angry crewman storm out of the room.

TBC…