Had to split up this chapter because it got way too long.

Spock recognized Uhura's voice even before he turned the corner.

"I'm going home," she said impatiently as she came into his view. Her hair was loose, a sleek sheet hanging down her back. The high heels of her boots made her a few inches taller than the man pursuing her.

"Come on, I'll walk you," he insisted.

"I'm going home alone," she clarified without turning around.

"Come on, it'll be fun." The man grabbed her forearm, pulling her backwards. She stumbled. Spock quickened his pace.

Without hesitation, she twisted his arm and elbowed him in the gut. He coughed and took a few steps back. "Bitch—" his eyes met Spock's. "This is so not worth it," he mumbled as he hurried back into the bar, more out of humiliation than anything else.

"Asshole," Uhura muttered.

"Good evening, Miss Uhura."

Uhura turned so suddenly, her hair flew into a gentle arc and settled over her shoulders. "Commander Spock!" her face flushed. This was the first time she had seen him outside of his office and outside of uniform since their argument over break. "What are you doing here?"

"I was intending to offer assistance, but clearly it was unnecessary."

Uhura clasped her hands behind her back, unsure if she should feel proud or embarrassed. "Oh. Uh, I meant out in this part of town. You didn't really strike me as a…" She passed her gaze along the row of rowdy bars, brimming with cadets and officers alike.

"I am returning home from dinner. I must thank you once more for introducing me to that restaurant." He gave her an appreciative nod.

"It's nearly 0200…"

"I was occupied in the lab until very late. I did not have time to prepare food."

"On a Saturday?" She scrunched her face in a mixture of pity and disbelief. "Well…" she began walking again. He stood his ground, unsure of how to proceed. He was certain she expressed a desire to go home alone, but he was uncertain of how to walk in the same direction without giving her the impression that he was following.

"Are you coming?" she said after a few strides, tossing her hair as she looked back over her shoulder.

"Did you not want to return home alone?"

She laughed exuberantly. The sound was unexpected—a tight formality had formed between them, and she had not laughed in front of him in quite some time. "No, I just didn't want to go home with that creep. Come on."

He fell into step with her and noticed the unsteady sway in her stride. "You are intoxicated."

"Yes, Commander. If you didn't notice, I just came out of a bar."

"Although in most cases, being present in a bar implies the consumption of alcohol, it does not necessarily—"

"I get it, I get it. Yes, I am. It's the weekend, and my roommate's birthday, but she's on her way to some fresh cadet's apartment. So here I am, the too-serious, unattractive roommate, walking home drunk and alone. Or rather, getting walked home by my instructor." She let out a breathy laugh and shook her head. "Do you work every weekend, Commander? Ever go out?"

"It is difficult for me to become intoxicated, which seems to be the purpose of such outings. Though my metabolism is not equal to that of a full Vulcan, it is still far superior to a full human's."

"So it's difficult, not impossible."

"Yes. Regardless, I do not engage often in such social activities."

"Of course." Uhura got the impression that he wasn't often offered an invitation. She imagined him alone in the lab and felt an ache in her chest. If it were anyone else, she might have put a sympathetic arm around him. Instead she clasped her hands more tightly behind her back.

They continued for a moment in silence. Spock watched the streetlights pass over her face, and could not help but observe the way her skin glowed with warmth. Her hair stirred in the slight breeze, and he found that he was mesmerized by its silken texture, despite its illogically excessive length. "You were incorrect in your previous statement."

"Hm?"

"You are not unattractive."

She looked up at him with raised eyebrows.

"Your features are pleasingly symmetrical. Your figure is proportionate. Your hair and skin appear soft. I believe these are all considered attractive features."

She gave his shoulder a gentle shove with hers. "Are you trying to make me feel better, Commander?" she asked in a teasing voice.

"No. Simply stating facts."

"You charmer." She paused and gave him a sidelong glance. "You're… not too bad yourself."

"Can you qualify the term, 'bad'?"

"You're easy on the eyes."

"… Explain?"

Uhura stopped, swaying a bit as she turned towards him. "Let's see, how do I put it in your terms? Well, your haircut is stupid."

"This is the traditional—" Uhura reached up and touched his hair line, just in front of his left ear. Spock was surprised at the way his breath came up short. He found it difficult to continue speaking.

"It's very soft, though. And—" her finger traced his cheekbone, then trailed back up his jaw. "The angles in your face are distinguished." She flicked the tip of one ear. "And the ears actually look quite… 'pleasing' on your head."

Spock's mouth felt sticky. Her cold fingertips left lingering trails along his skin. He wondered distantly whether he was becoming ill—perhaps the ingredients in his dinner were not entirely fresh.

"But your eyes are definitely my favorite part." She exhaled, met his gaze with a slow blink. One corner of her lips tugged into a drowsy smile.

He swallowed. "I do not understand the relevance of these observations in our current conversation."

"I'm saying that you're attractive, Commander. In your own way." She gave his cheek a quick pinch and began walking again, laughing to herself as Spock tried to identify the humor in their conversation.

They stopped in front of the third year cadets' quarters. "I guess I'll see you on Monday?"

"That is correct."

She sighed and looked up at the sky, tilting her whole body until her face came parallel with the night. Spock considered reaching out to steady her, concerned for a moment that she might tip backwards. "We'll be up there pretty soon, huh? God, I can't wait."

The way the lights caught her dark, sharp-cornered eyes made them appear full of stars. When she blinked, Spock felt a queasy sensation, as though her long eyelashes had brushed the inside of his stomach. For the first time since he was young, his actions preceded thought. His hand reached up of its own accord and touched one of her long, shimmering earrings.

She looked at him in surprise. Their gazes locked, and for a moment, they began drifting closer, drawn in by the bold lines of their half-lit faces.

He quickly retracted his hand. "Good night, Miss Uhura."

She watched his swift retreat down the street in confusion.

Spock followed the tree-lined path home, humming with strange sensations. He meditated until the sky turned a bright, creamy blue, untangling the threads of the unfamiliar emotions that grew in a tight knot within him.

The next morning, Gaila found her roommate at one end of a long table in the mess hall, slumped over a glass of water and an untouched plate of toast and eggs.

"Hey!" she said cheerfully as she dropped down across from her.

"I see you had a good night," Uhura grumbled.

"I see you're not having a good morning."

Uhura squeezed her eyes shut and sipped her water gingerly. "I ran into Commander Spock on my way home."

Gaila burst into laughter. "You didn't! You were so drunk! Did you do anything embarrassing? Throw up on his shoes?"

Uhura covered her face with her hands. "You know how I get kind of handsy after my fourth drink?"

Gaila raised her eyebrows as she sipped her juice.

"I touched his face." Uhura's voice turned into muffled squeak.

Gaila sputtered into her cup. "Oh my god. Why?"

"I was trying to explain to him…" She flushed at the recollection. "Nevermind, it's not important. But I'm supposed to be in his office tomorrow to go over Tuesday's class and I'm just so embarrassed."

Gaila shrugged. "Honestly, he probably isn't really thinking about it much. Vulcans don't really feel stuff like embarrassment or awkwardness, right?"

"He's going to judge me."

"He might. But who cares?"

"Right…" Uhura sighed. "Anyway, how's your xenobio paper coming?"

Uhura changed the subject hastily, and they spent the rest of their meal without any mention of Spock. Afterwards, she made her way to the lab trying hard not to dwell on the events of last night. She touched one of her earrings absently. He had seemed so fascinated with her, his eyes inquisitive.

Moreover, she was sure that he had, in his own way, complimented her.

She was in the middle of this train of thought as she tapped her ID card to the lab door. It slid open with a gentle hiss. She was suddenly assaulted by Spock's presence, bent over one of the benches. He was squinting through a magnification lens, tweaking a miniscule piece of hardware. As the door shut behind her, she realized they were completely alone. Nobody else wanted to spend their Sunday afternoon in the lab.

She thought about settling down at the bench furthest from him without a word, but then thought that would be way too unusual. She settled for a curt, "Afternoon, Commander."

Spock, who was too focused to even notice someone had walked in, felt his whole body tense at the sound of her voice. It was unlike him to have a physical response to unexpected stimuli, but nonetheless a pang of queasiness twisted his stomach momentarily.

He looked up briefly and nodded, trying not to linger on her presence. "Miss Uhura."

She studied his face for any change, but it maintained its usual expression. Gaila was right, she was reading too far into it. Her memories were hazy and it was possible that she had misinterpreted his behavior. Sometimes she wondered if she imagined all of the micro-expressions she caught in his face.

She had never stopped to consider his features before last night, but now she found them difficult to ignore. He wasn't exactly handsome, but the neatness and delicacy of his gestures made her feel calm. She thought about the solid shape of the bones underneath his cheek, imprinted into her fingertips despite the murkiness of the rest of the night. She liked the way it connected the corner of his mouth to the edge of his eyelid and curved into the point of his ear.

"Is everything alright, Miss Uhura?" Spock noticed she hadn't moved, and was now looking at her.

"Y-yeah." She blinked rapidly. "Just wondering what you're working on."

"It is the project I was engaged in last night. I am assisting in the development of a more sensitive translation device. Our current technology is at times inefficient for certain more nuanced alien languages."

Uhura crossed the lab to stand next to him, peering through the microscope. "Hmm."

Spock stood very still. Her ponytail hung close to his shoulder as she tilted her head, and he had to resist the urge to touch it. He felt a powerful, inexplicable need to know how it would slide along his fingertips. He didn't often crave such unnecessary information.

"How many departments do you work with?"

"Six."

She laughed and shook her head. Her ponytail brushed his elbow before settling again behind her neck. "You're crazy."

"My most recent psychological evaluation confirms that I am perfectly mentally stable." Although at times he was beginning to question that statement.

Despite the empty lab and ample free counters, Uhura set her bag down next to his. They worked separately, at times chatting and at times in silence, but they both found it difficult to concentrate on their tasks at hand, preoccupied by the very small space that separated their elbows on the bench.

"What exactly happened, Nyota?"

"Hm?" Uhura's attention snapped up to her roommate. The two had gone stir crazy studying for midterms in their dorm room and had decided to take their work outside. After finding every inch of the library occupied, they ventured off campus, mostly due to Gaila's insistence. Out of sheer luck, they arrived at the kitschy coffee shop just as a couple was leaving, and now lounged on two mismatched armchairs with a small table for their coffee cups set between them. Nyota treated the table as a desk, studying her PADD with one elbow resting on its surface, and Gaila curled up in her chair, resting her PADD on her knees. She could not help but notice the way Uhura's gaze kept wandering away from her notes—it was atypical for her studious roommate.

"After I left you on my birthday," Gaila continued as Uhura just stared at her.

"What do you mean?"

"I can smell your pheromones from here. What aren't you telling me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Uhura substituted a response by taking a large gulp of her coffee.

Gaila set down her PADD with a clatter as she uncurled herself to look Uhura straight in the eyes. "You keep looking at Commander Spock. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

Uhura tried to keep her face from betraying any reaction. As she ordered her coffee, she had noticed the Commander sitting at a table by the window, sipping tea and studying a PADD. His uniform jacket was draped over the back of his chair, and the black of his undershirt was a stark contrast to the sunlit street outside. His rigid posture caught her eye immediately. "He's just always alone," Uhura said distantly.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Nothing happened, Gaila." She rested her cheek on her palm. "I kind of just miss hanging out with him. Things have been weird since winter break." That part was true. She didn't need to mention the added dimension of awkwardness prompted by the night of Gaila's birthday. She and the Commander had barely spoken outside of class and office hours since, and she still found it difficult to look him in the eye.

Gaila scrunched her nose. "You have weird taste."

"No, I mean…" she sighed. "I don't mean it like that. He's just really smart and interesting to talk to."

A smirk crept onto Gaila's face. "You like him."

"Not like that."

"I've always found it frustrating how humans have to classify degrees and attitudes of liking. Your mating rituals are unnecessarily complex. Especially in your case, Nyota, since you have this inexplicable need to contradict yourself." Gaila pointed an accusing stylus at Uhura. "But your pheromones don't lie."

"I wish you would keep your nose to yourself." Uhura mumbled into her coffee as she took another sip. It was getting lukewarm. "I think I need a refill."

As she stood up, Gaila picked up Uhura's PADD and held it out to her. "Don't come back," she said. "Just go sit with him. I'll be fine studying by myself."

"But—"

"You're distracting me." Gaila said firmly.

"… Fine." Uhura snatched the device out of Gaila's hand and picked up her bag, turning away before she had to face her roommate's smug grin.

A few moments later, Uhura set a fresh cup of coffee on the table in front of Spock. He looked up slowly, before sitting straighter. "Cadet."

Uhura nodded. "Commander."

Spock followed the lines of her face and the silken twist of her hair where it was pulled over one shoulder. She was in civilian clothes: a tan sweater and dark pants, tucked into the same boots she wore in uniform. Her earrings were delicate, sloping strands of carved wood, hanging just below her jawline. Her eyeliner was slightly smudged on her left eye, and the remnants of some form of rouge tinted her lips just slightly red.

"Um…" Uhura's voice interrupted his detailed observation just as he became aware of how closely he was examining her. "Are you alone?"

"It is apparent that I am."

She bit her lip. "Right. May I join you?"

Spock was, for a moment, surprised. He had expected that, due to his error over winter recess, it would not be possible for them to resume the ease their acquaintance had formerly held. Moreover, he found that since their weekend encounter, she had been even more evasive, which he took as a consequence of his inexplicably strange behavior that night. He doubted that she would ever again initiate conversation outside of the class she assisted him with. He considered this a loss, given how engaging he found her company, but he had accepted it. Yet here she was. "You may," he said finally.

She sat down across from him and took a sip of her coffee. She expected him to turn his attention back to his PADD, but instead he just kept watching her. "So… What are you reading?"

"The most recent issue of the Academy science journal. There is an interesting article written by a colleague of mine analyzing some of the inherent the flaws in our universal translator."

"Oh. I'm guessing they're working with you on your translator project?"

"Precisely." He paused and took a sip of his tea, before pushing the PADD towards her. "I had considered sending it to you. I thought it might be relevant to your interests. However…"

Uhura nodded. "I know. It's been weird."

"'Weird' is a very broad human term. Perhaps you could specify?"

Uhura picked up his PADD. "I want you to send me articles again. I want to talk about my thesis with you. I want to sit in the mess hall for way too long analyzing Vulcan literature. I want to play chess after office hours. I feel like I have a lot of things I want to talk to you about."

Spock stared at her for a long time before giving a minute nod. "I believe that can be arranged. I, too, have things I wish to share with you."

Uhura's face softened, her grip on his PADD relaxing. She took another sip of her coffee and turned her attention to the article. Her eyes flicked up as she reached the end of the first section. Spock was looking out the window, his fingers curled into the handle of his cup. It may have been a trick of light, but she was sure she saw a gentle smile curving across his lips.