Authoress' Note: Ladies and gents, Spock and Uhura are not getting back together in this story. True love (as some believe it to be) will not prevail. I am not a SpockxUhura shipper, so I will not write them together. Besides I love angst too much to even allow them together. Please understand that. I would hate for people to get the wrong impression and be disappointed in the end. Please review when you're done! Thanks! All characters, etc. © Paramount.
A Parting of the Ways
"You're sure you want to do this, Uhura?" Jim Kirk asks the young woman standing before him with her arms clasped casually behind her back.
She rolls her eyes, and Kirk is grateful that they can stop being serious for at least one moment. He still isn't quite used to the idea that being captain isn't fun and games all of the time.
"I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't intend to go through with it, Captain," she exhales in an exasperated breath.
Kirk cocks an eyebrow at the defiant expression on her face as she moves to cross her arms over her chest.
"I guess this means you can call me Jim," he says nonchalantly, one half of him joking and the other half seriously hoping she will consider it. He spins around in the captain's chair and eventually comes to a slow grinding halt in from of his communications officer, or soon to be ex-communications officer. Uhura gives him one of her sweet never-ending smiles, and just when he thinks she's about to agree . . .
"No."
Damn. Kirk twists his chair around again to buy some time. Uhura's blurred form whizzes past him a few more times before he sets his foot down and comes to a sudden stop. Spock. He hadn't thought about his green-blooded first officer since he, the Captain, had left to explore the planet a few days previous. In fact, now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen Spock in that amount of time as well. Discreetly, he peers about for his communicator, which seems to have already been misplaced.
"Uhura, have you seen Spock lately?" he inquires, watching her beadily from narrowed eyes.
The young woman shifts uneasily from foot to foot under his gaze. She shakes her head and looks down at the ground.
"I haven't seen him since I spoke to the Ambassador. I went to look for him after our conversation, but no one had seen him for some time. I thought perhaps you knew where he was."
"No, I don't. See, I thought you would knew."
She glares at him. "I'm not his mother. He doesn't need my supervision all the time you know. He probably went to speak with his father."
"Good one, Lieutenant. His mother's dead."
Uhura purses her lips and throws her hands up in the air, infuriated. "You are impossible! All I came here to ask was whether I have your permission for leave. Is that too much to ask?"
"No, I guess not," Kirk drawls with a shrug, "I will miss your gorgeous face on this bridge if it makes you feel any better."
She gives him a tight smile and tosses her hair, "No, not really, but thanks anyway." Turning on her heel, she stalks off toward the turbolift. The weight that seems to be pressing down on her heart still hasn't gone away after her conversation with the captain, and she expects it won't disappear until she speaks with Spock again. If only she can find him.
---
"Mr. Scott, Spock here."
The young Scotsman's voice crackles over the communicator. "Scott here."
"Ready to beam up."
"Aye, sir. Right away. Scott out."
Spock flips his communicator closed and stares out over the desert landscape one last time. The past few days had been some of the longest of his life, and he is thoroughly ready to take leave of his new home world. He had spent the remainder of his time with his father and the other members of the Vulcan High Council who were currently arguing over where to place the new Vulcan Science Academy. No one seemed to remember the exact layout of the old planet, and most of the architectural blueprints had been lost.
Spock feels the familiar tingling sensation as he beams up to the Enterprise. He steps off of the transporter pad and exits the automatic doors intending to speak with the captain before confining himself to his quarters for some much needed meditation. He almost passes Uhura as she leaves her own room in a rush. He wouldn't have noticed her in his deep reverie had she not run directly into him.
Stumbling, she caught herself on his waiting arm and froze. Spock set her upright again, and made to move around her, but she caught his wrist tightly with one hand. He did not struggle but stopped completely and stared at her, waiting for an explanation for her behaviour.
"Spock, I need to talk to you," she begins, staring back at him unwaveringly. He's always admired her being able to do so. "It's not about us. Well . . . no, I suppose it is about us, but it's about other things as well, and I just . . . come in and I can tell you exactly what I mean."
She says all of this rather quickly and lets out her breath in one short gust that leaves her feeling slightly light-headed. Or maybe that's because Spock is now standing directly next to her, and she still hasn't let go of his arm. Dropping her hands to her sides, she steps back into her room and waits expectantly for the young Vulcan to follow. It takes him one step to enter, and the door whooshes shut behind him.
"Lights," Uhura says quietly.
The overhead lights twinkle on, and Uhura gasps in surprise as she finds Spock's face only inches from her own. She takes a few hasty steps back and lowers herself into a chair. Spock remains standing, his face a stony mask and his hands clasped behind his back. When she doesn't say anything for quite some time he raises an eyebrow carefully.
"Sorry," she says, "I'll get to the point."
She stands up and straightens her uniform in a professional manner. He wishes she wouldn't. He wishes he could hold her and kiss her in the darkness of her room where they would be out of sight of the crew and the Vulcan elders. Uhura clears her throat and Spock brings his attention back to her.
"I won't be leaving with the Enterprise tomorrow. I've decided to stay on Vulcan to help translate between all the different people who will be staying here to help with the rebuilding. I have already informed the Vulcan High Council, and they see no reason why I should not stay. They are looking for those skilled in xenolinguistics."
Spock does not know what to say. How often that seems to happen when he is dealing with Nyota Uhura he notes to himself. She bounces up and down on the balls of her feet, anxiously waiting for him to respond.
"You have done this because of us, have you not?" he asks, not at all sure if he would really like to know the answer.
"I guess so. There doesn't really seem to be a choice. Besides the experience will be a good one to have on my record."
She tries to smile, but it is painful and tight. She can tell that he doesn't believe a word that's coming out of her mouth. She gestures toward him noncommittally. "I mean, unless you're going to get down on one knee and propose to me now, I don't see why I should stay."
"You're a skilled xenolinguist. The Enterprise needs you. Would that not be reason enough?"
"Vulcan needs me," she counters boldly. She thought perhaps that given the ultimatum he would break and decide to marry her. She shouldn't' have been so naïve. He would not do so even she got on her knees and begged him to. That left her with only one choice.
He nods, and though it doesn't make him happy to admit it (he is a Vulcan, he shouldn't feel happy anyway, he reminds himself.) he knows that it will be best for both of them to go their separate ways. He only hopes that he may give her a proper good-bye tomorrow. Space is vast and dangerous, and he would hate to leave her in such a way that would suggest he had not loved her. He might never get the chance to tell her so again.
