Authoress' Note: This is my first ST09 fic, but not my first ST: TOS fic. I am well acquainted with the Star Trek universe, and suffice it to say, I loved the new movie! Everything about it was fresh and wonderfully done, although I admit I have not jumped on the Uhura/Spock 'ship' just yet. They do make for an angsty couple [and if you know me, you know I eat angst for breakfast], but I just can't imagine them doing the whole marriage and babies thing. Uhura is just too strong of a woman and well, Spock… he's got to ditch the women so he can become ridiculously loyal to Kirk. That's how that works in my mind at least. I hope no one will be offended by what I've done here. Who knows what canon and fanon are nowadays anyway, right? At any rate, I hope you enjoy. :D © Paramount, Gene Roddenberry, etc. I own nothing.
Impending Duties
She is exactly 4.32 minutes late, and in the lapsing time spent waiting for her arrival Spock begins to feel something he has never experienced before. There is a fluttering in the pit of his stomach, which slowly solidifies into an aching mass. The word for this particular emotion and its consequential physical attributes escapes him, though he specifically remembers his mother mentioning it several times during his childhood. A harsh beep takes him out of his reverie, and he suddenly remembers the word: anxiety.
"Enter," he calls, standing up slowly as he pulls the hem of his uniform down out of habit, and then clasps his hands behind his back.
The door swooshes open, and Uhura strides in, her silken brown hair swinging to and fro. There is a radiant smile upon her face, and it pains Spock to do what he knows must be done.
"Spock?" her voice is mildly curious as she takes a step toward him one hand outstretched. He suddenly realises how much silence has stretched between them in the few moments he has been standing before her. Her delicate eyebrows have furrowed together and are slanted slightly, much like his own.
"Uhura," he says with a nod and takes a step back. He cannot risk being so close to her at such a moment as this when he knows he must keep a clear head for the sake of the both of them. Her lips tip downward slightly at his movement as she crosses her arms across her chest.
"You've made a decision then, haven't you?" she says bitterly. Spock does not nod. There is no need to acknowledge what she already knows to be true. He should have known that this woman, so skilled in xenolinguistics, would have no trouble seeing through his façade of calm. Perhaps she had foreseen the choice he would need to make from the moment Vulcan was destroyed.
"I am staying with Starfleet for the present," Spock says, choosing his words carefully as he watches Uhura's hand curl into a fist at her side, "though I want you to know that I have certain obligations to Vulcan and my people that, at some point in the future, will need to be fulfilled."
She blinks at him with those large brown eyes, and he finds that he cannot discern the emotion hiding beneath them. She may cry or yell or resort to physical violence within the space of a second. He banishes that last thought. The beautiful young woman before him would never do such a thing. He can already see the fraying ends of her emotion being wound up again from the inside out. Uhura will not give herself away so easily.
"You do understand, don't you?" he asks.
"No, I do not." Her voice is icy and stings more than a slap to the cheek.
Spock clears his throat, "I must do my part in helping to repopulate Vulcan. I certainly cannot. . . That is to say. . . There will be another woman. A Vulcan woman."
Uhura's eyes flash, and now there is no mistaking her anger. "What about us? What about me?" she cries shrilly, and then her voice lowers to a whisper as her lip trembles, "Doesn't my love mean anything to you?"
Spock's attempt at keeping a rock hard demeanour cracks, and he allows her into his arms where she rests her head against his shoulder. He feels at ease with her against him as though she were the missing piece in his puzzle. This will be hard for both of them.
"You know that I. . ." he cannot bring himself to say the worlds she wants to hear so badly, "hold great affection for you, but . . ."
She looks up at him, tears swimming in her eyes. "But, gentle embraces and stolen kisses aren't exactly the equivalent of a Vulcan marriage?"
Spock nods his head, and Uhura steps back. Already she begins breaking like a perfect porcelain figure before his eyes as she caves into herself. Her gaze shifts away from him as tears begin to fall from downcast eyes. He longs to comfort her, but doing so feels like a boundary he cannot seem to cross now.
Uhura understands why he is doing this to her now, before their relationship could have gone any farther. She doesn't blame him for doing it, though the pain she feels is overwhelming, like a stab to the heart. She wonders if he will ever feel the same as she does now.
"So, that's it then?" she asks, meeting his gaze, "I'm just supposed to move on, right?"
Spock doesn't know what to say as she sighs in exasperation and wipes at the tears under her eyes. He steps forward then and with his thumb wipes a stray one away. Uhura catches his hand in hers, and he pulls it to his lips, pressing them against her ebony skin.
"There will be other men, Nyota, far more worthy of you than I," he reassures her, though she shakes her head and pulls her hand from his gentle grasp. Composing herself, she steps toward the door, but turns back to him at the last second.
"You know I'll always be here if you need me," she says, her voice wavering and her head held high.
"Thank you, Nyota."
She leaves him standing there, hands still clasped behind him in his usual stance.
---
Later, in the darkness of her cabin Uhura allows herself to dwell on the events of the past day. She searches in her memory from some hint, or some sign Spock could have shown, of the tenderness she had once experienced with him before. Those were rare moments, but she had seen them in odd places, and now she knew they would exist only in her memory.
He had hardened considerably since the destruction of his world and the death of his mother. She should have noticed it earlier; the isolation and the tentative embraces. She should have known it was not meant to last. Her mother's words came back to her now from across a decade of time. "Don't give your heart away so readily, Nyota," she said, "You may not get it back in one piece."
Oh, did she know that now. Never had she fallen so hard for someone so unlikely to ever really love her the way she had hoped to be loved. Perhaps in that way Spock had been right. In some odd way he had shown his love for her by making the conscience decision not to be with her. He was protecting her from the worse heartbreak she would have felt if they had continued on for months or years. She was grateful to him in that respect, and wished she had shown that gratefulness at the time of their meeting.
Uhura curled up into a tight ball under the covers, staring out the window to the stars whizzing by outside. Never had she felt more alone. Kirk had his ship, McCoy had Kirk, and Spock would have someone else in time. Uhura only hoped that he would find love in that someone, as she had found it in him.
