"Cadet, someone is attempting to gain unauthorized access to the building. Have you passed your mandatory weapons training?" She nodded, and immediately turned to send as message to the Starfleet Campus Police. She then tried to send as much of their recent work as she could to the Superintendent's private datastream, just in case. Spock opened the combination lock on a storage compartment and pulled out two emergency phasers. He passed one to Uhura. "I believe we need more information about their ultimate goal." Ignoring Uhura's feeble protest about regulations when under fire, Spock stepped out in the hallway again, closing the door after him. He returned a minute later. "I believe they have reached the second floor. There are at least two intruders who seem to be speaking one of the Rigelian languages. They said something like "Wursh tchin uruk na"

"That means 'Where is the array?'" said Uhura quietly. They looked at each other for a moment. Uhura locked the door. Spock moved the only loose piece of furniture in the small lab, a three foot rolling credenza, in front of the door.

"We will need to take defensive positions using a ten and two strategy."

"Can we prop something against our chairs?" Spock nodded. Uhura wheeled their chairs into place on opposite sides of the door. Spock ripped the metal built-in bookshelves out of the wall and piled the metal planks onto the chairs. They each took a position and waited. They heard footsteps and voices outside the door. The door knob was tried. Someone slammed against it, the impact causing enough vibration in the room to rattle Spock's teeth. Then the low hum of phasers, as their unknown would-be assailants began cutting through the door. Spock and Uhura waited tensely, and the moment finally came when an arm pushed away the fragments of the door. Spock aimed his phaser at two o'clock and fired, Uhura aimed hers at ten and fired. The crossed streams kept the intruders at bay, preventing them from even approaching the door. They heard howls of frustration, then silence, perhaps too much silence.

Spock might have seen the grenade for a fraction of a second as it arced through the air and exploded on impact near their equipment. He managed to put an arm out to reduce the impact as the force of the explosion slammed him against the wall. Through the haze, two shadowy figures approached the doorway. Spock fired several warning shots. The figures fell back. He could hear more shouting, this time in Federation Standard, from the ground outside the building, but he didn't care. He couldn't see her. Just as he began to feel what he thought was probably panic, he saw her through the haze. She was sitting up, but not moving. As he drew closer, he saw that her head was bleeding.

"Nyota, are you alright?" He placed his hand on her arm. She looked at him, dazedly, and nodded. "You are bleeding," he said gently touching her head. As he did whenever he touched someone, he saw a flash of her emotions, in this case confusion and concern for him. He had to stay focused for a few minutes longer. He cautiously moved into the hallway and satisfied himself that the intruders were at least no longer on their floor. He moved back into the room more quickly than he knew he was capable of doing. He grabbed the first aid kit from the floor where it had fallen. He cleaned some of the excess blood from her head, trying to do it as gently as possible. Then he placed a pressure bandage on her wound.

"Thank you, Spock," she said quietly. Then she turned toward their equipment. "Spock, we have a fire!" Spock turned and grabbed the extinguisher and put out the flames that were licking up from the equipment that had been hit by the grenade. "I think it's just our connection to Starfleet Command that's been damaged." Spock nodded. Their link to the array itself was farther back in the room and seemed to have suffered little. He turned back to her,

"Nyota, you need medical assistance, but I need to make sure the area is secured." She nodded. He squeezed her arm in what he hoped was a reassuring way, and he left again, this time to scour the entire hallway. He heard the Campus Police shouting "All clear," on the floor below. Spock raced back to the lab. He helped Uhura to her feet, and took her hand to lead her out of the lab, around the debris, and into the elevator. As he held her hand, he felt what she felt, all of it: her pain, her confusion at the source of the attack, the depth of her feelings for him. Spock was glad that they had to stop to ride the elevator down. He felt overwhelmed, and he was not certain why his legs were still working. His studies on how to manage emotions in battle had helped him focus, but they hadn't prepared him for this.

"Commander, Cadet!," said the Head of the Campus Police. Spock knew that the man recognized him; he had ticketed Spock's bicycle enough times.

"Two Rigelians tried to break into our lab, and they set off a grenade. A security guard is injured somewhere. I will make a full report, but Cadet Uhura needs assistance immediately."

"We hadn't expected casualties…"

"Perhaps, " said Spock icily, " the next time a person sends you a communication asking for help, you might anticipate that that person could, in theory, become a casualty…" Uhura put a hand on his arm.

"Spock, it's only about a block to the infirmary. I can walk."

"Do you feel well enough?" She nodded. He turned away from the officer, and they walked toward the infirmary. They didn't touch, until Uhura began to sway. Spock put his arm around her.

"Thanks, I'm sorry to be so much trouble."

"Do not apologize, Nyota, I –"

"Spock, I'm not sure I can keep walking." He caught her before she collapsed, and picked her up easily. Her head rested on his shoulder, and she had fainted. Spock walked as quickly as he dared to the critical care facility and reluctantly placed her in the care of an impossibly young-looking intern. Only as he set her on the gurney did he remember that he had often wondered how it would feel to hold her, and now he missed the sensation. He seated himself in the waiting room, just outside the treatment area. He politely resisted entreaties from the medical personnel to be looked over himself. This sense of helplessness and fear, he supposed, must be misery.

The intern emerged, finally.

"Cadet Uhura has a concussion. In these cases, there is usually a full recovery, with some memory loss of the surrounding events, but since she lost consciousness, we will need to keep her overnight for observation and wake her periodically."

Spock followed the orderlies and a nurse as they moved Uhura to a room on the second floor. She was still asleep.

"We can call you if there's any change, Commander…"

"I will remain," he said quietly. The nurse looked at his face and didn't even attempt an argument.

Spock sat in the chair, and watched her. At 6:00 a.m., a nurse came in, woke Uhura, and asked her a couple of current events questions. Uhura answered the questions, locking eyes with Spock. Then they let her sleep again. They came in again at 9.

"I can perform this function at three hour intervals, as I am sure you have other duties" Spock told the nurse. She looked at him shrewdly.

"On one condition, Flyboy. You let the doctor on call look you over." Spock decided this was a reasonable bargain. His arm and one side of his face were covered in bruises, but otherwise he was fine. They gave him one of the newer vascular regeneration creams, and a prescription for a painkiller that everyone in the room knew he'd never fill. Spock returned to Uhura's room. At noon, he sat on the edge of her bed. He hesitantly put a hand on her back, the way his mother used to when he was ill.

"Nyota."

Her eyes fluttered open.

"Spock. It was all real, wasn't it?"

"The attack on our lab, yes."

"I remember we were firing at them, and then suddenly, I was on the floor, and there was smoke and flames."

"Do not speak further. You should rest."

"Are you alright? Your face is –"

"The doctor has given me some medication for that. It is a superficial injury."

She closed her eyes again. Spock gently brushed her hair out of her face and returned to his chair. At two, the police came by, with several other Starfleet officers. They wanted Spock to come with them for a debriefing. He refused, indicating that his first responsibility was to the people under his command. They agreed to interview him in the infirmary administrator's office. The intruders had escaped. Spock had given them as much information about the events as possible, but when they asked him why Admiral Waite's aide had secured their lab and refused to allow the campus police access, Spock noted that he could comment no further.

He had returned in time to wake Nyota again. This time, she was awake for an hour and begged him to go get some rest. He insisted he was fine. As he returned to his chair to watch her sleep again, he wondered who had taken his classes that afternoon. Then he remembered that it was a Saturday. Never before had he felt so little obligation to his students. Perhaps it was because his best one was here.

The nurses began coming in to wake Uhura again, as they needed to check her vital signs and do some more tests.

"Still here, Flyboy? You are certainly a persistent one."

At 11 p.m., the doctor on call announced that Uhura's scans looked good, and she no longer needed observation. Her recuperation could continue at home, where most patients were able to rest more comfortably than in a hospital. Spock walked her back to the dormitory, insisting on taking her arm. At her door, he said,

"I am reluctant, Nyota to leave –"

"Spock, the doctors said I'll be fine. You should go home and rest." She leaned up and kissed his cheek. As usual, he could not refuse her.

In his own quarters, he wearily changed clothes. He had had another debriefing, this time via secure teleconference with Admiral Waite and the Superintendent. Starfleet Intelligence was working on tracing the Rigelians, who had probably been hired to decommission the array.

"Your work's just a bit too good for their comfort, what, what, Spock, my boy? Still, your lab will need a few weeks of repair."

Spock could not even remember what his reply had been. He had, however, been adamant that they could not disturb Cadet Uhura for her statement. He had cited "medical reasons", which was vague enough not to be an actual lie.

As he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, he had to acknowledge that he looked awful. He still had dust and ash in his hair, and one side of his face was heavily bruised.

As he dragged himself onto the bed and slid underneath the sheets, he thought of Nyota. She had acquitted herself so admirably, and he knew he was being objective about that. He had seen fourth years in less stressful simulations freeze in panic, but Nyota had been with him every step of the way, complementing him, as she had done in their work, as she had done when she took him to dinner. And he knew now, knew from his own panic and concern for her well-being that he felt for her more deeply than he had ever cared for another. And he knew too, although he shouldn't, that she cared for him. They were connected, and he wanted that connection forever. He didn't think he could have it, but he wanted it.