Author's Note: Countdown : Go for System Ignition.
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You Had Me From Hello
Chapter Two : You're The One That I Want
Spock
Starfleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth
Late January 2258
Monday 1015
He sat in his office at his desk, his first class of the semester over. His office felt so empty. He would get used to it again. They had already offered to remove the empty desk, but he had refused. She had sat there, it would stay to remind him. He knew he had made the correct choice - and the events of the three previous evenings certainly enforced that knowledge - nevertheless it was very difficult to sit here without her quiet presence behind him. In a moment he would be able to focus on something, surely. In the meantime, a pleasantly stimulating warmth swept through him as he remembered the way she had nibbled on his ears yesterday evening. It had been very - educational. But there was obviously still a need for - practice. He felt like he would need practice in that particular stimulation every day possible. It was only logical.
There were footsteps coming down the hall - her footsteps. She was supposed to be elsewhere. His eyes went to the doorway just as she stepped into his office, her face alit. She crossed the small space and sat down in the chair on the other side of his desk, just the way she had so many times, coming into his office to practice conversation in some new language. She pulled a small PADD from her carrybag and laid it in front of him.
"Here's my schedule for this semester. It's almost the same as last semester. The main difference is that instead of a class on Wednesday afternoon, I'll be downstairs in the acoustical engineering lab."
He took the PADD, his fingers brushing fleetingly against hers. His eyes were fastened on her the way a starving man's might fasten on the sight of food.
"And I have a request. Actually a request from the head of the Acoustical Engineering department." She paused, licked her lips, smiled at him. Her eyes were glowing, the expression seemed to be teasing him. He waited. "They don't have any office space upstairs and he was wondering whether you would mind if I kept my desk down here." There wasn't any question in her voice, just light laughter.
"Mind? Why would I mind?" His lips quirked up at her, joy flooding through him. "It seems quite logical to me."
Now she did laugh, softly, her smile spreading wide. "I didn't really think you'd mind much." She rose from the chair, walked around his desk, and settled into her own chair, pulling things out of her carrybag and putting them back on the her desk where they belonged.
***
Once again they discussed power curves and he chose another move and had her demonstrate first the incorrect application of power and then the correct. They danced the first kata again and twice she landed perfect blows, one upon his arm, and one on his shoulder. He was extremely pleased with her. Her work with the dumbbells had definitely increased her strength and her understanding of the application of power was exceptional. Next week he would have her apply force to all the movements of this kata. Of course, he would not use anywhere near the same amount of force towards her. He would only contact her body if she made an incorrect move. And then only lightly. Very carefully. Although he knew that she was already proficient in Human martial combat, knowing that she was also becoming knowledgeable of suus mahna gave him much more confidence in her ability to defend herself when the need inevitably occurred. StarFleet was not a child's playground - there would be many instances where defense was necessary.
***
Tonight Nyota had cooked a dish new to him - something called satay. She had used strips of marinated tofu instead of the more commonly used meat, possibly not entirely successfully, however the fiery sauce made from chilies and peanuts had been quite interesting. It had seemed to be spicier than most of the dishes she had made in the past and he had complemented her on it, hoping that it would recur. He had poured all the remaining sauce over the noodles on his plate. If she had not been there, he might possibly have licked the plate. She had seemed to enjoy the sight of his pleasure with the dish.
She finished wiping off the table and rinsed the cloth she had used, hanging it up to dry. Then she washed her hands and dried them. She walked out of the kitchen, looked on the low table before the couch. "No poetry tonight, Spock?" she looked at him, inquiry plain on her face.
He felt too warm. He had anticipated other activities this evening. Perhaps he had been over confident. As she continued to gaze at him, he felt the tips of his ears grow even warmer. And the skin over his cheekbones, as well. He mumbled something, he was not sure even what language it was.
She crossed the floor to where he stood, standing very close to him. "Maybe you had something else in mind for tonight?" Her voice was soft and low, her hands moving to rest gently against his chest. "Something a little more ... stimulating?" Her face was tilted up towards his, her lips so close.
With a low growl, he swept her against his body, claiming her lips with his own. Her tongue swept into his mouth, caressing his, her hands were on the back of his neck again, fingers moving through the short hair there, then the edges of her nails against his skin, drawing lines of fire. His arms tightened about her, bringing her as close as possible, flattening his hands against her body, spreading the force so that all parts of her were pressing hard against him. Again that hot swelling in his lower body. That only happened when she was in his arms. When her body was pressed against his. Although recently there had been indications that it might happen when he thought over the actions that had been occurring here in his quarters in the evenings. It was still not comfortable, but he was growing more used to it. Seemingly as a response to that reaction, she moved her pelvis against his. The reaction of his body was instantaneous - that hot swelling increasing dramatically. She moved against him again, dragging a low moan from her mouth as he lifted his lips from hers, gasping for breath.
One of his hands moved downwards, cupping her little round bottom, pulling her hard against the swelling, wanting something. He was not entirely sure what he wanted, but it definitely involved her. At the sound of her voice moaning softly at him, the feel of her body moving against his, he began to shake, burying his face against her neck, his mouth moving over the skin there, tasting, nibbling, He swept up the side of her neck, taking her earlobe between his lips, his breath hot in her ear. He felt the shiver sweep over her, saw the tiny bumps on her skin. He could feel her nipples, hard against his chest in the center of her soft breasts. He was burning. His control was slipping. With a ragged breath, he loosened his grasp upon her, tucking his chin on the top of her head and bringing her face down against his neck. He stood, sides heaving, trying to regain control. Her hands slipped down until they rested on his chest again and she stood quietly, not moving, waiting for him.
He drew in a great breath, let it out slowly. The shaking was subsiding. He moved his head down so that the sides of their faces rested against each other, feeling a much stronger sense of her as their temples rested together. He had not done anything that she was not willing to do - he did not feel anything from her to indicate that he had held her too tightly or forced her in any way. He sighed. Perhaps his control was growing.
"Maybe we should sit on the couch?" She was lifting her head, looking at him, and he could feel her concern reaching out to him. He nodded and moved in that direction, settling down in his normal spot. Instead of sitting down beside him as he had anticipated, she turned so that her back was to the gooseneck lamp and sat on his lap, her legs facing down the couch, over the spot where she usually sat. She pulled his left arm around her waist, supporting her, and leaned against him, her face against the side of his neck. She had not done this before. He could feel her all against him, much as she had been last Monday evening during their meditation. But this was different - he could feel her weight on his legs, against his chest. It was quite pleasant. Her left hand laid on top of his and he could feel her through the touch, happy, but there was still excitement there as well. And, to a lesser degree, that thing that she had identified as lust.
He sat there for several minutes, just enjoying the feel of her against him. Then he raised his right hand and cupped it behind her head, gently turning her face up as he bent his down, and began to kiss her again. She sighed against him and drew his bottom lip between her lips and sucked on it. This was new. Then she did something totally unexpected. She bit his lip, just enough that he could feel the edges of her teeth against that sensitive skin before she released it again. His heartbeat accelerated, his temperature rose, that hot swelling was back again, he found himself making that growling noise at her again. Her lips moved against his, making words. "You like that, Spock?"
"Yes" His voice soft, low, husky. "You may do that again." He hesitated, "if you wish.... Please."
She giggled, just a bit, then began to nibble at his jaw, tiny little bites, moving from one side across to the other. He stretched and turned his face to make it easier for her. This was wonderful. Then she moved back to the side closest to her, moving up the side of his face with her lovely soft lips, and bit his earlobe. He moaned. Her teeth continued up the side of his ear until they reached the extremely sensitive point. He turned his head down to give her better access, moaning and growling at her to show how much he liked what she was doing. He could smell her now, that scent she said meant that he had made her wet. He wanted to feel what she was feeling, but the only skin contact he had with her now was the one hand on top of his. His right hand had fallen away from her head and lay on the couch beside him. He raised it to her midriff, skimmed his hand down and found the bottom of her sweater, slipping his hand between it and her slacks, then back up, over the waistband to where the skin of her midriff lay, spreading his hand upon her bare skin there. He felt her reaction, heat spreading throughout her body, sighing, softly moaning, her tongue against his ear, laving softly. And then her right arm, which had been against his chest, moved backwards and her hand was under his shirt, against his back, cooler than his skin, spreading fire along his nerves as she caressed him.
He wanted to feel that hand on his skin. He desperately desired to feel more of her skin against his hand. The idea of feeling her skin against his skin had him burning, flames sweeping his body, overwhelming his logic. Before he could stop to analyze what he was doing, he had tilted her forward, moving his hands to the hem of his shirt and pulling it off over his head, then pulling her back down against him. Now both of her hands were on his body, one in front and one behind, stroking softly. She turned her face into his chest, nuzzling his body. She was murmuring against him, something about 'yummy hair'? He had never before been glad to have that vee of black hair across his chest, that line arrowing down the center of his body. It was illogical. But as she ran her fingers through it, creating fire everywhere she touched, he suddenly yearned to have his whole body covered with it. She was twisting and turning on his lap, touching everywhere, but he could hardly find any skin to touch - only her face as she kissed and nuzzled against him.
Once again he threw caution to the wind and reached around her, tugging at the hem of her sweater. She raised her face from his body and looked at him, her lovely face flushed, her lips swollen and soft, and then raised her arms. Before she could change her mind, he pulled her sweater over her head. It took him a moment to untangle her hair from the sweater and toss it to the other side of the couch. When he had his hands free and pulled her back against him, he realized that she had done something else while he was busy with her sweater. Her bare breasts brushed against his chest, blazing fire deep within him. He growled at her again, hands sweeping across her skin, shaking, blazing, wanting. And she took his hands and laid them there, one hand on each of those glorious breasts. His hands curled around them, so softly, so carefully, shaking with the effort to be gentle. He felt her nipples hard against his palms. He was on fire everywhere, blazing. He was shaking, control about to snap. "Nyota" His voice was thin, shaky. "I.. I... am losing.."
Instantly she was laying against him, nothing moving except her hands, rising to cup the sides of his face, holding him together. Her forehead lay against his and he felt her soothing him, spreading calm throughout. He shuddered in her embrace, pulling control back around him. For long minutes they sat, skin against skin, while he grew used to the feeling. He explored the reactions he was feeling, analyzing them, isolating the troublesome elements, looking at them to see why they troubled him, considering. She did not speak, she did not move, she just held him and soothed him through the link he had established. Her breathing slowed, her temperature fell a bit, that wonderful scent lessened. All these things helped him to reclaim the the control that had fled. He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, felt more himself. He slowly moved his hands again, feeling her breasts there waiting for him. That was so wonderful. He sighed, rolled his face against hers, gave her soft kisses, felt her relax and sigh softly.
"More practice needed."
"Much more."
She laughed softly at his words, sliding her hands down his face, around his neck, caressing the short hair on his nape again, her nails gently clenching him, causing little sparks against his skin. He buried his face against her neck, inhaling her scent, letting it fill him, moving his lips against her neck, her shoulder, down the long hard plane of her collarbone, down to the soft curve of her breast. His neck was bent as far as it would go. He let out a small sound of frustration.
"What's the matter?"
"I cannot reach what I wish to. My neck will not bend any further."
Soft laughter, body twisting against him, she moved, drawing up her legs, sliding off his lap onto the couch, laying back, pulling him down over her. He slid his arms down to the couch on either side of her, supporting himself on his forearms, burying his face between her breasts. Her arms were around him, her hands on his back, stroking, soft caresses from his shoulders down his back to his waist, leaving trails of fire on his skin. It was wonderful. He rolled his face to one side and began to explore her breast with his lips and tongue. Soft curves, firm nipple, soft skin, all entranced him. He rolled his head to the other side, continued his exploration there. He sighed, full of happiness.
He could have stayed there all night, touching, kissing, holding her against him, but eventually it registered that it was much later than usual. She must be tired - and she needed to be fresh in the morning, he was not the one who would be demanding her services as aide. He sighed, drew himself up from her, met her eyes. "I need to walk you back to your dorm, Nyota, it is late."
She sighed even deeper than he had. "Yes, I know. But I don't want to go." She smiled at him, her eyes shining. "You found some balance."
"Yes, with your help. It is easier than it was, I think. But more practice is definitely needed." The corners of his mouth quirked up at her. "Much more practice, Nyota." He leaned down, gave her a soft kiss, and then straightened his arms, lifting himself off of her. Carefully he untangled himself from her and rose off the couch, finding her sweater and bra and handing them to her, then pulling his shirt back on. He went to get her coat from his closet, held it for her, then clasped her hand in his and drew her out the door of his quarters.
He was loathe to leave her, leaning his forehead against hers for several moments, his hand caressing the side of her face, before he straightened up, sighing and released her hand, watching her until the door to her building closed behind her. Once again he was aware of a very faint link remaining between them. That was most odd.
Nyota
Tuesday
He was already on the track when she arrived, pounding around so fast. She loved to watch him run full out, so graceful. She was half way around the track when she heard him behind her, still pounding. He swept past at full speed, "Good Morning, Nyota" floating in the air behind him. She grinned at his back. Once more he swept past her, her return greeting meeting him. The third time, as he approached, his steps slowed, and by the time he was even with her, he was running at her speed. Around the track they went, in total synchronization, running at a smooth, even pace. She had an idea. Slowly she increased her pace until she was running full out. Beside her he matched her pace, long legs flashing. Oh, this was exhilarating. Three times around the track at this pace and she began to slow again, slowly decreasing her pace until she was back at that smooth lope. Her grin was wide.
"Very good, Nyota." Out of the corner of her eye she could see his lips quirked up. She had pleased him. The morning was beautiful.
***
She had gotten to the Linguistics lab early enough to get her favorite carrell, the one with the unobstructed view of his cubbyhole of an office. She had the cheek mike in position, carefully speaking the words displayed before her, when he strode into the lab and crossed to his office, a stack of PADDs in his hands. He was so handsome, so tall and straight and perfect. And it never occurred to him - not once, that people watched and sighed over him. Which was fine with her - she had no intention of sharing. He set the stack of PADDs on his desk and seated himself, raising his eyes and catching hers, raising one eyebrow and quirking his lips up slightly at seeing her sitting there. The evening was beautiful, too.
***
When the last student had thanked her for her help and gathered his things and left the lab, Spock was already going about, checking to see that all the equipment had been properly shut off. She closed down her console, gathered her carrybag and waited for him by the door. He stood next to her, not quite touching, leaned over so that his forehead barely grazed hers. She shivered. She could feel his breath on her skin, so warm.
Softly his voice, so close to her ear. "You do not have to give so much time to the other students, Nyota. You are not aide in this department this semester." Although the words were not endearments, they certainly felt that way, soft and warm.
"But they need the help. There is more than you can handle. I don't mind."
"As you wish, then. Computer, lights out." As the lights faded, he leaned over just a bit more and his lips brushed softly, quickly across hers before he straightened up again. She sighed as she turned towards the door to exit the lab. Then she felt his hand stroke down her back from shoulder to waist, down her hip, over the curve of her buttock, lingering a moment just at the top of her thigh. Goosebumps flooded her body and slightly startled sound escaped her lips. This she had not expected. Beside her he gave a very satisfied small sound. Proud of himself, was he? She could not help the smile that curved her lips.
They walked across the almost deserted campus, down the familiar pathway, beside each other, not quite touching, content. They spoke softly of this and that, in whatever language came to mind, happy just to hear the other's voice. When they reached her building, they stopped and he leaned over her again, just touching his forehead to hers, one long finger ghosting softly down the side of her face. He drew that finger across her cheek, across the seam between her lips. Her lips parted and closed again, drawing the fingertip into her mouth, her tongue grazing along the sensitive tip. Heat flashed through him. He inhaled sharply. He remembered another night when she had done this, when he had not understood the feelings that had engulfed him when she did so.
"Nyota." His voice was so soft, so low she only heard it because she stood so close to him. She bit lightly against his fingertip, getting another sharp gasp, then opened her mouth enough to release the pressure. His finger gently caressed her lips as it moved away from her. Slowly he straightened up, sighing so very softly. "I shall see you on the track in the morning."
"Yes, I'll be there, Spock." Then she was turning, going inside, leaving a tiny, tiny piece of herself behind with him, to guard him until she saw him again.
