It took Spock—the other Spock, who asked her to call him Selik, which Nyota just couldn't do, not when he raised his eyebrows in a way that was just so Spock—three days to get to Earth after she called him. She met him at the Starfleet hangar he'd flown into, ignoring the cadets and officers alike buzzing around him as he politely waved them off.

'Lieutenant,' he greeted Nyota, and she bristled internally at the formality of his greeting, since this was Spock saying this, and she took a deep breath, fixed a smile to her face, and tried to remember that this wasn't her Spock.

'Ambassador,' she returned, and led him through the hangar to walk across the grounds of Starfleet.

'I was happy to answer your summons, Lieutenant-' Nyota felt her lips twitch at his use of the word 'happy,' but remained stoically silent. '—although I must confess that I remain "in the dark," as they say, regarding the reason I was called.'

'I wanted to talk about this in person,' she said slowly, stopping and moving off the path towards a bench, settling herself down and waiting until Spock had done the same. 'I'm sure you heard what happened on the Enterprise.'

'Indeed,' Spock confirmed. 'I was given the full story, considering my Starfleet security clearance, by Mr Spock.' Nyota shook her head slightly, deciding not to dwell on the fact that Spock had just addressed himself as Mr Spock, recalling the way they had done so when they sent their transmission to New Vulcan. 'That the Captain could recover from such an incident is fortunate.'

'Fortunate,' repeated Nyota distantly, and then she sighed. 'It's just... Spock was so upset when Kirk died. He was crying, in front of Scotty, in front of me, over Kirk, and now it seems like they're spending every waking moment together.' An edge of desperation had crept into her words involuntarily, and she took a steadying breath, waiting for his response.

'Perhaps Mr Spock is simply grateful to have the Captain back, and this will pass,' he said, voice neutral.

'You don't really believe that,' Nyota refuted. 'There's more to this than just Kirk's death.' Another deep, steadying breath. 'I heard about the mind meld on Delta Vega. I know what Kirk saw besides your ship falling through the black hole.'

'Indeed?'

'I know that Kirk remembered you calling him—the other him, anyway—your t'hy'la.' Spock's eyes met hers, an older, wiser, wearier version of her Spock's, but still the same, and there was silent apology in them. 'What did he see, Spock? What were you to each other?'

'T'hy'la is an accurate description,' Spock said, his voice steady, but far less monotone than it had been.

'No,' Nyota said. 'I don't know if Spock told you who I am to him, but I think I deserve to know about this. Tell me.' Spock swallowed visibly, a myriad of emotions swirling in his eyes.

'I do not know that I am capable of summarising such a relationship.'

'Then show me.' She hadn't meant it to come out as a demand, but it had, and she refused to revoke the request. 'Show me what Kirk saw.'

'Have you ever engaged in a mind meld with your Mr Spock?' he asked, voice gentler than it had been. Nyota shook her head. 'It is not to be engaged in lightly.'

'I know enough to realise what I'm asking,' Nyota said. 'I need to understand what's happening. Please.'

Haltingly, Spock nodded, and raised his hands, spreading his fingers and pressing them gently to Nyota's face. His eyes closed, and she followed suit. The gentle pressure of his fingers gave way to the pressure of his mind against hers, and she tried to relax, and then there was an explosion of colour and sound and images.


You look quite well for a man that's been 'utterly destroyed,' Mr Spock—You may find that having is not so pleasing a thing as wanting; this is not logical, but is often true—You aren't going to admit that for the first time in your life, you committed a purely human, emotional act? ...Mr Spock, you are a stubborn man—...happy birthday. Surely the best of times—Logic clearly dictates that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few... or the one—One damn minute, Admiral—If I were human, I believe the correct response would be 'go to hell.' ...if I were human—I have been, and ever shall be, your friend. Live long, and prosperJim

Voices, words, spoken by Kirk and Spock both filled Nyota's mind, and she heard the teasing, affectionate inflections of Kirk's voice and Spock's measured, patient responses, heard his concern for his captain, his friend (t'hy'la) and she could see them together—the way Kirk shot him warm glances across the bridge, reached out to steady him, sometimes to touch him for no rational reason at all other than that he wanted to, saw them fight, saw the looks of regret after-

She saw Spock in engineering, behind a glass wall, dying, his hand reaching up to press against the glass and Kirk's, and she saw Kirk cry for him as her Spock had cried-

Kirk holding Spock's hand as he lay in sickbay, trying to remember what it was like to feel-

Spock looking into McCoy's grief-stricken face and knowing that it was Kirk had died, that something had happened on that new Enterprise that none of them could fix-

Then there was Spock, this Spock, alone on Delta Vega, shivering less from the cold and more from rage, hurt, need, want, loneliness, grief, and—and then he saw Kirk. Kirk, the man he thought he would never see again, the man he'd thought was lost to him forever. Kirk, the only man he'd ever loved. T'hy'la.

When Spock pulled back from Nyota's mind, it took her a moment to come back into awareness of her body. She was sitting rigidly upright on the bench, her hands fisting the material of her uniform skirt, and there were tears on her face.

'I apologise,' Spock said, his voice holding genuine regret. 'As I explained to Jim—your Jim—emotional transference is often a side-effect of a mind meld.' Unable to help herself, Nyota laughed, and shook her head.

'No, Spock,' she said, taking one of his hands in both of hers, 'no. I'm not crying because you were sad, or because I think... I'm going to lose him. I'm crying because I understand. I know what you have to be to each other—what you always have to be to each other.' She looked down, and shook her head again gently. 'There's no way I could ever stand in the way of that.'


Nyota waits for McCoy outside of his quarters, on the same floor as her own, just sitting there, leaning against the wall. It's late, since she spent most of the day with the other Spock, slowly drawing stories and descriptions out of him about the rest of the crew, what the other versions of all of them had been like in that other world. He had finally extricated himself from the conversation when she asked what the cost had been in that universe to stop Khan, and if it had been connected to this Spock's death in engineering as their Jim's had been.

And that was another thing—after what she had seen in Spock's mind, she had suddenly taken to calling him Jim.

McCoy didn't say much when he fount her outside of his quarters, just held out a hand to help her up and then gestured to his couch vaguely when he got the door open, inviting her to sit. She did, sitting just as stiffly and uncomfortably as she had after the mind meld. Without a word, he pressed a drink into her hands—strong brandy, not a beer or another fire tea—and waited for her to speak first.

'I need to let Spock go,' she said quietly, and McCoy blew out a strong huff of breath.

'I agree,' he said, voice guarded, as though he was carefully considering each word and inflection, and Nyota peered curiously at him. He stared inscrutably at his own drink. 'But is this because of his neglecting you, some sort of irreconcilable differences-' The doctor's lips twitched at that, and she was reminded with a sharp stab of sympathy about his divorce. '—or is this just because you're losing him to Jim?'

'None of that,' she answered honestly. 'I talked to the other Spock. He showed me what Jim saw.' One of McCoy's eyebrows rose when she said that she had spoken to him, and the other went up to join its mate when she mentioned the meld. 'I understand now. He could never have been mine.'

'Uhura, I wouldn't give up just because of something that happened in another lifetime,' McCoy said, his voice carrying a bitter tinge to it. 'We're a different set of people.'

'Maybe we are,' she said, shrugging carefully, remembering the other Spock's stories; from what she could tell, each of them remained fundamentally unchanged from what they had been. 'But what I saw happening between Spock and Jim is... that goes beyond all of this. It's just... more. They cheated death together, and now they've done it again.'

'Uhura—'

'No,' she said, voice gentle, but firm, holding her ground. 'You didn't see what I saw, and you didn't see the look on Spock's face when Kirk died in front of him. He didn't even cry like that when Vulcan was destroyed.'

'He was in shock then—losing a telepathic link to most of his people would have shaken him-'

'Not even for his mother, Leonard,' Nyota cut him off, and he blinked at her, startled at her unprecedented use of his given name. 'Spock didn't even cry like that for his mother.'

She held his gaze for a long moment of silence; hers was determined, and his was pleading, hoping, wondering. Finally, he sighed and shook his head, scrubbing a hand roughly over his unshaven face.

'What are you gonna do?' he asked at last, and she smiled, knowing that this was his way of offering to help her.

'I told you, Doctor,' Nyota answered levelly, 'I'm going to have to let Spock go.'