Curiosity gnaws at Gaila as she stares at the double doors leading to Nyota and Spock's room. She wonders what they're doing inside. Maybe having sex in new and inventive ways. Maybe Spock knows something awesome and ancient that Vulcans never talk about (along with almost everything about themselves) and that's why Nyota's so blissed out.

But Nyota didn't sound all that happy when she called Gaila's room and asked her to join her in her suite. No, Nyota sounded dangerously sweet like she does when she's planning someone's murder and the imagined method pleases her.

Gaila's not up for being murdered today.

Gaila sullenly knocks on the door to Spock and Nyota's door and seriously thinks about just walking in. Maybe she'll get to see a Vulcan penis up close and personal. Maybe if she asks Spock he'll let her see it.

Huh. Gaila hadn't consid-

Nyota yanks open the door with a tight and knowing smile on her face. "Gaila," she says. "Do come in."

Gaila shakes her head. "I have better self-preservation than that," she says.

"No idea what you're talking about," Nyota says. Her hand darts out for Gaila, who yelps and tries to turn to run but Nyota grabs her around her waist and hauls her into the room.

"This would be more fun if we were more nude and in bed," Gaila says and lets her body go limp.

Nyota grunts and briefly struggles under Gaila's weight before they both sink to the ground just inside the suite she's sharing with Spock. "You're such an ass," Nyota says laughing, and shoves at Gaila ineffectually. "You spoke to Spock?"

"Am I not supposed to?" Gaila twists in Nyota's arms so she can look her in the face. "I thought – "

"Not like - Gaila. Come on, I trust you with him and I trust him with you." Nyota rolls her eyes as she moves to her feet and helps Gaila to hers. "No, I'll show you what I'm talking about." She grabs her hand and pulls her to a door and throws it open with a flourish.

"Wow," is all Gaila can say. It's an amazingly huge, two person dressing closet with racks and racks of colorful clothing. "What is all this?"

"Osei Sima's work," Nyota says. "Dresses and pants and shirts and shorts and skirts…" She trails off with an overwhelmed gesture.

"I…" Gaila inhales and lets it out before she laughs shallowly. "This is not an admission of guilt, okay? But I may have told him you liked Osei Sima," she admits.

"I figured since I try really hard not to gush about clothes to Spock you were to blame."

"Blame? This is a good thing, right? You didn't have anything to wear and now…" Gaila is biting her lip to keep from laughing again. "You have almost a whole closet full of new clothes. Pretty clothes! Beautiful clothes. Most of which I will try and borrow."

"But did you tell him to …" Nyota just gestures again.

Gaila shakes her head. "I didn't. He asked me what designer you liked and I told him." She starts moving the clothes around. "That's… all… your size…"

"Down here, Gaila." Nyota's eyebrow is raised in amusement as she jerks her thumb toward an end of one of the racks.

Gaila squeals and rushes over to see what she got. A couple of dresses that compliment her skin tone perfectly, some cute pants and some very colorful tops. "Wow," she says. "They look exactly my size. Like… exactly. That's… really impressive but I didn't expect all this."

"Neither did I," Nyota wails.

Gaila's hands still on the clothes. "What's the real problem, Nyota? It's not like you don't like clothes."

"I do," Nyota admits.

"And you adore Osei Sima."

"…I do."

"And you needed more clothes," Gaila finishes.

Nyota grumbles.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You're right," Nyota says with a faux saccharine tone.

"So what is your problem? I swear, is it your brain again?" Gaila removes one of the shirts from the rack and presses it against her. "Where am I going to wear this? It needs to be fancy. Places that serve miniature foods and drinks that bubble."

"We can go out to lunch somewhere upscale," Nyota offers. "Maybe a restaurant you want to try? Or you can come with Spock and I to see Natalia Araújo tonight in Brazil."

"That would be nice but her whole tour is sold out."

Nyota smiles. "Spock was able to get tickets."

Gaila's jaw almost drops. "Are you kidding? Now is not the time to play with my emotions, Nyota."

"I'm not," Nyota protests.

"She's my favorite Terran musician! I couldn't even appropriate tickets through that guy Ensign Lee knows."

"I would think you'd be done with the whole black market by now," Nyota says.

"In my defense this was before the whole Risa incident and discounts are hard to resist," Gaila adds.

"Gaila. Only reputable places of business where you have legal recourse."

Gaila sniffs and goes back to admiring her dress. "I don't want to talk about that anymore. I want to talk about if we're going to coordinate outfits at the concert or not. Are you sure you want me to come?"

"What?" Nyota laughs. "She's your favorite singer, of course you're coming."

"The tickets were Spock's idea, weren't they?" Gaila asks.

Nyota nods. "He knows you were disappointed having to miss Risa."

"What are you going to do with that prince of a Vulcan?" Gaila asks.

"I might kill him," Nyota says as she shakes her head.

"I want off this shuttle ride. Up and down, up and down. Pick one." Gaila pulls a skirt from the rack and twirls around. "I need shoes. We should go shopping." She glances at Nyota's expression and deflates. "What are you thinking about now?"

Nyota takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I've told him about going overboard."

"You're not with him for his money are you?" Gaila asks.

Nyota blinks. "No," she says flatly.

"And you don't want it to look like that, right?"

"I don't care what other people think. But no, I don't."

Gaila gestures around the room. "We're the only ones here. Both you and I know you're not with Spock for his money. And if you're wondering about the people out there in the galaxy then stop. They aren't in your relationship." She looks at Nyota shrewdly. "I think there is something else. Maybe it's not so much Spock's problem than yours?"

Nyota rubs her arms absently. "Hush."

"Then stop being mad at him. That's not fair and you tell me relationships are supposed to be fair. Can't always equal, but fair."

"Gaila, why are you so smart?" Nyota pretends to whine.

"Because beauty has to match inside and out." Gaila fluffs her curls. "Now are we going shoe shopping?"

She looks at Gaila for a moment before she throws her hands in the air. "Of course we are," Nyota says. "Like that was ever an option, not going shoe shopping. I thought you knew me," she scoffs.

Gaila is staring at the racks of clothing thoughtfully. "Nyota?"

"Hm?" Nyota looks over.

"I think I know why Spock gives you such lavish gifts even though you tell him don't."

"I'm all ears. I'm listening," Nyota adds at Gaila confusion.

"He's not so good at putting his emotion into words, right? I mean, he is Vulcan."

"He does just fine when he tries," Nyota says defensively. "I don't want from him more than he can give."

"And this is what we're looking at. He shows you his regard by doing what he can for you. And you know he's a perfectionist."

Nyota chuckles and looks at the clothes in a new light. "Don't I?"

"So go easy on him, okay? I think he's trying."

"Look at you, becoming Spock's biggest fan," Nyota says with a small grin.

"I think I come a close second." Gaila's expression is knowing as she leaves a sheepish Nyota amongst her gifts.


"Enter." Chris blinks in surprise when Spock steps through the door, padd in hand. "What are you doing here, Spock? Have a seat."

"I have the completed list of officers and lab technicians I wish to request for the science labs of the Enterprise." Spock sends the file to Pike's padd and after a second decides to take the offered seat. He watches as the captain looks over his list, nodding and frowning as Humans do instead of asking questions.

"I know a few of these people and with the rest… Well, you know I trust your judgment."

"I am gratified," Spock says.

"This really could've waited. I know you have a guest," Chris says. "Plans and jet setting around the world, right?" He looks up and Spock is still looking at him. "Or not. Trouble in paradise?" Spock tilts his head and Chris sighs. "Are you having problems you're running away from?"

Spock frowns. "There is no logic in fleeing a situation; upon return your status is the same," he says.

"But you're here instead of there. You could've just sent the list. Hell, I wasn't expecting it for another month. So what's the problem?"

"It is delicate work, staffing the Federation flagship. I wished to submit my requested personnel before the Exodus leaves in three weeks." Spock tugs on a jacket that is already as straight as possible.

"Already poaching, eh? Yeah, sure. Absolutely. I appreciate your dedication even during your supposed vacation."

Spock nods.

Chris looks at him appraisingly before glancing back down at the names. "Are you sure that's all there is to it, though?"

Spock's posture is ramrod straight as he stares just over Christopher's left shoulder. "I have questions of a personal nature."

Chris does his best not to slide out of his chair. "You're coming to me, willingly, for advice?" he asks.

"Your tone suggests this will not be in my best interest," Spock says. "I will –"

"No, no," Chris cries out. "Don't go. I was just joking. Badly, again it seems," he says. He raises his hands in defeat and settles into his best posture. "I'm sorry."

"Indeed." Spock again straightens his immaculate jacket.

The two men sit in silence for a couple of minutes before Chris realizes he'll have to prompt Spock. "So… of a personal nature. Does this have something to do with your relationship?"

Spock hesitates. "With the information available I believe that to be correct."

Chris blinks expectantly, but Spock does not elaborate. This is going to be like pulling teeth, he thinks. "Does this have anything to do with the finalization of your assignment aboard the Enterprise?"

"Affirmative." Spock looks even more perturbed.

Chris steeples his fingers beneath his chin and leans forward as he makes the intuitive leap. Damn. He's been where Spock is on more than one occasion and it's never any easier. "You're going to have to leave her behind, aren't you?"

Spock's expression is severe. "Current information suggests that outcome."

"That's the nature of the situation, Spock. You never know when you'll be loaned out to the academy or sent on the nearest deep space mission. Or get hurt and stuck planet-side. We go where we're ordered."

"I find… that the largely tenuous nature of my future it is no longer acceptable."

Chris pauses. "What are you saying, Spock?" he asks, attempting to keep the dread he feels from his voice.

"The eventuality that I will be parted from her for prolonged periods of time is disquieting." Spock searches for the words to encompass what he feels. "I am conflicted. A posting upon the Enterprise is a goal I have set for myself since apprised of its conception. One I greatly desire. Yet I wish to be by her side, always. I want her as my mate and I believe that want has surpassed my desire for the Enterprise."

Chris' heart drops through his stomach and suddenly he has a massive headache. He clears his throat in attempts to gather the words he needs. "That is… a very big thing, Spock."

"I am aware." Spock's flat expression sharpens into something severe.

Chris expels his breath harshly and leans back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling. There are times when he forgets that Spock is painfully young, for a Vulcan or a Human. He never wavers once he has a plan and he always has a plan.

Except in his personal life. No, there he flies by the seat of his pants. All or nothing. And here they are, again, in the same place they were almost six years ago. "Spock," Chris begins carefully, "have you said anything to your young lady?" He prays fervently to any deity listening that Spock hasn't.

"Negative. I am unsure that she has the same desires as myself," Spock admits. He could look, wants to look, but he is loath to do so. What if she merely sees their relationship as a deep but temporary circumstance? Spock's heart throbs in his side and he tightens his emotional control. It is not logical to dwell on events that have yet to transpire or in anticipation of information not yet received.

"I don't want you hurt again, Spock."

Spock tilts his head, assessing Chris. "You refer to my experience with Leila Kalomi."

"Absolutely."

"I appreciate that the lack of information on this subject has led you to what you consider the most reasonable conclusion but she who I wish to be my wife is nothing like Leila Kalomi. Our relationship is not the same," Spock says as Chris throws up his hands. "My emotional and physical experiences are not the same."

A sliver of hope loosens the tension in the base of Chris' neck. "Fine, Spock, fine. But what are you going to do?"

"I wish to propose marriage," Spock reiterates.

"Before she graduates? I don't know about her parents, but if it were my daughter I wouldn't be happy. I would want her to finish her education and get a posting or two under her belt before she decides to commit."

Spock frowns. "Illogical. If I meet her needs and encourage her goals then why should we delay our union for years?"

"You thought the same of Leila."

Spock draws up to retort but doubt stays his tongue. Hadn't he thought his logic was clear with Leila? Hadn't he considered her to be a prime candidate for a good mate? As much as that were true the depths of emotion he experiences with Nyota far outweighs what he felt with Leila. "I did, but I was incorrect," Spock admits.

"And what will happen if you find you're incorrect again?" Chris asks. "You bind yourself to this girl and then what? You gallivant off with the Enterprise and leave her here to get posted on another ship. You might find the love of your life on the Enterprise and you've got this young lady here or some other ship and your marriage is this burden because you've acted too hastily."

Spock considers Chris' words. "The rate in which she and I are of an accord or are able to reach a satisfactory compromise is statistically higher than normal. She has a higher emotional intelligence and has thus far not required me to be either Human or Vulcan. She accepts me entirely. I find I cannot fathom a being that could be better suited for me, nor can I force myself to act so illogically that I am willing to leave her to explore such a small chance."

"Well alright then," Chris says lightly. "Nothing I can do to talk you out of this? Listing the possibilities of your future has already occurred to you, I'm sure."

"I have considered many eventualities that would keep us apart and as such I have not approached my intended with my desire to marry."

"So what's stopping you?"

Spock hesitates. "I fear her answer," he says.

Chris nods. "The two of you haven't talked marriage before?"

"Negative." Spock hesitates. "I had no interest in speaking of the future after my experience with Leila. I have yet to fully recognize a wide range of Human social cues and emotional responses that would allow me to discern if such talk would be welcomed or rejected."

"How long have you two been going out?"

"One year and two months," Spock says.

"Wow, that's… That's a good amount of time. For most Humans." Chris nods slowly. "Honestly, if you weren't in Starfleet you'd probably be talking marriage at this point or sometime soon. She hasn't said anything?"

Spock swallows. "Negative." Something that has worried him; when Nyota has a request or a question she does not hesitate to ask, and does so with as little obfuscation as possible while using Standard. It is often refreshing and leaves little for Spock to doubt.

Except this, something which would change their lives.

"She may be waiting for you to say something. I know a lot of women try not to bring up marriage. Even in this day and age," Chris says with a shrug of his right shoulder.

That gives Spock an odd sort of hope. Perhaps Nyota will be amenable to such a conversation. Conceivably she has already considered such a decision. "So she should expect me to broach this subject?"

"Not necessarily," Chris says. "Everyone is different."

"Do you have a suggestion?"

"Be as honest as possible with yourself and her. Be honest about circumstances you're facing. Logic isn't always going to be what helps you make a decision like this. Spock… " Chris trails off. "Just make sure this is something you want to do. You can't un-ring that bell, as I'm sure you remember."

"I have perfect recall." Spock's expression is tinged with a bit of shame.

"That's one thing I do not envy you."

Spock leaves Christopher's office with a few answers and more questions. Once before he had considered someone to be his ideal mate. He wished to spend the rest of their lives bound together in matrimony, parted but never parted. He –

He is too concerned with his own desires and plans. Nyota's will is strong and she knows what she wants; not once has she spoken of moving their relationship into a permanent status. Perhaps she has no desire for marriage. That possibility leaves Spock to consider; is he content with the level of intimacy they currently enjoy?

Yes, he thinks purposefully. It is only logical to appreciate interpersonal relationships as they are and not how one wishes them to be.

However.

Halfway to Briarcliff the futility of attempting to make a decision based on incomplete information is strikes Spock and he realizes nothing can be planned without talking with Nyota. He cannot logically fear or hope for an outcome if he is unwilling to have the necessary conversation. He must reveal to Nyota his placement upon the Enterprise and his hopes and plans for a future spent together as husband and wife. She will be understanding and listen and she will tell him if that future can exist.

He lands on the flit-pad and powers down the vehicle. Again he experiences the unnerving sensation of doubt and apprehension. Spock does not want their time together to end, nor does he wish for their relationship to become strained. Unbidden a fall of light blonde hair steps out of Spock's memory and he is unsatisfied that it still provokes an emotional response.

He allows himself an audible sigh; Spock hears his mother's voice in his head as if she were sitting in the passenger seat. My Spock, she would say. It isn't fair until all your cards are on the table. Until you're absolutely truthful with the other person. Anything else is essentially a lie.

Spock exits the flitter, now determined to speak to Nyota. He does not bother to spare a hovering T'Madh a look as he calmly bounds the stairs to his and Nyota's shared suite.

He's at the end of the hall when he sees their door, wedged open just slightly, shut very quickly. Spock tilts his head, uncertain as to what is happening. In his confusion Spock remembers the original reason for hand delivering his proposed roster to Pike in person; Nyota's gift arrived.

Is she angry? Has she seen him coming and wish to refuse him entrance to their room? This cannot be what his mother would consider a good sign. Spock traverses the last of the hallway and cautiously enters the room.

He doesn't see Nyota but he realizes there is something beneath his foot. Spock reaches down to retrieve it and realizes it is one of Nyota's soft pink camisoles. A few feet in front of him is a denim and mudcloth skirt. Spock plucks the items of clothing from the ground and continues to follow the trail; her bra, one earring and the other, a hair tie and finally, at the closed door of the bathroom, a pair of lace panties.

Spock is growling lowly as he triggers the sensor for the bathroom door, and stops short just inside. Fragranced steam billows in his face as a pleasurable and humid warmth chases away the subtle chill Spock has learned to ignore.

"Welcome home, kipenzi."

Spock drops the clothes in his hand as Nyota moves out of the fog. She's wearing nothing but a knowing smile. Her hair wavy and voluminous freed from her braids as she reaches out for Spock's hands to draw him closer. "Nyota," he says hoarsely, finally finding his voice. "This is unexpected." He does not know where he wants to look at and touch first. He tightens his grip on her hands and then slides his fingers along the gathering moisture on her forearms.

"But not unwelcome," Nyota murmurs as she begins to unbutton his jacket.

"Never," Spock admits, and shrugs out of the jacket after she pushes it off of his shoulders.

"Were you able to take care of business today?" Nyota takes the time to rake her fingernails against Spock's flushed abdomen, enjoying the play of muscles beneath his skin.

"I did," Spock says as he quickly strips out of his shirt and lets it fall to the tile.

"I found my gift," Nyota says, and holds his gaze as she kneels before him to help him out of his shoes. "Or should I say gifts."

Spock experiences momentary disorientation. "I am gratified," he says shakily and exhales through his nose as Nyota places her face very close to his groin.

"You didn't have to leave this morning." Nyota undoes the button on Spock's fly and lowers the zipper.

"I had business which needed my attention."

"Happy coincidence. Wasn't the only reason you left."

Of course Nyota saw through his feeble attempt at artifice. "Did my actions upset you?" Spock asks, his tone stiff from trying to suppress his body's reaction to Nyota's nails scraping down his thighs.

Nyota hides her smile by helping him step out of his pants. "A little at first. I thought you went entirely overboard, directly against my wishes. I was overwhelmed and worried." She peels down his boxers and smiles widely at Spock's erection.

"Apologies," he says. "I understand the nature of our conversation is serious but I am currently having difficulty subduing my desire and thus my body and its reaction to your proximity."

"It's fine, Spock. Come, I have a nice and relaxing bath ready for you."

Spock wants to tell Nyota that he has seen to his bathing needs prior to his meeting with Pike but she leads him to the large, sunken bathtub filled with steaming water. Once he places a foot in the water he immediately realizes the heat is ideal. Spock settles on the underwater seat and is gratified as overlooked tension begins to lessen.

Nyota climbs in after him and Spock's hands immediately settle on her waist as she floats in the extremely large tub. "Is it hot enough?" she asks.

"It is extremely suitable. Are you sure it is not beyond your endurance?" he asks.

Nyota smiles and shakes her head; the edges of her hair sink below the water level and plasters the locks against her back and arms. "I'm fine. It's really warm but it feels good but most importantly I want it to feel good to you. I've noticed you've been a bit tense for the past few days." Gently she rubs at the junction between Spock's eyebrows until he releases the tension held there. "I also know you'll talk to me when you want to talk, so I'm not going to press you. What I am going to do is try to help you relax to the best of my ability."

"How do you propose to do that?" Spock's mouth quirks in an almost smile as she leans forward and kisses him chastely. The contact evolves into nuzzling, and Nyota smiles against his temple as her hand settles against his side, over his heart.

"I think I'm on the right track," she murmurs. "You're purring."

"I do not purr, Nyota," Spock rumbles. Nyota raises an eyebrow of her own and scratches most satisfactorily down the back of his head and against Spock's wishes the reverberation in his chest continues.

"Okay, Spock." She holds him close, against her chest and he closes his eyes, careful not to tighten his grasp too much.

It is occasions such as this that Spock wonders if he deserves a life with Nyota. A mate that is considerate of emotions that he has yet to parse, understand or confront. He once thought it was weakness, the way his mother would be patient with his father's cruel words or inconsideration, but now he understands what it is.

Love and strength.

"Nyota?"

"Hmm?" She lifts her head from where she was resting it on her shoulder.

"You did not say that you liked your gift. If you did not, please tell me. I will not be upset." His hands slip down to capture her fingers within his grasp and he can feel her amusement and fond exasperation.

"Osei Sima is my favorite designer, as Gaila told you. I can't help but be happy with it," Nyota chides. "And it came from you, so of course I love it."

"I am gratified to hear."

Nyota hums.

"May I pose a personal query?"

Nyota lifts her head and chuckles. "Of course, mndani."

"I have seen you give gifts of varying price with apparent ease. You are generous with your time and your belongings yet I notice a certain reticence when others attempt to do the same with you. Explain."

Nyota huffs a laugh and pulls away. "I do that?" she asks.

"Affirmative." Spock stares expectantly at Nyota. "Your behavior leads me to believe something occurred in your past."

"Affirmative," she teases, but her smile is a little off. "An ex of mine. Is the occurrence," Nyota adds.

Spock and Nyota don't speak of past relationships. Spock is unsure why but is grateful. "If this memory will emotionally compromise you then you may cease," he murmurs.

"No, no. Sit forward." Spock complies and she slides behind him, wedging herself between the tub wall and the solid line of his back. Nyota reaches for the prepared oils, a mixture of sweet almond and lavender. "His name was Isa and he was handsome, smart and charming. I met him at Oxford and it was really great until it wasn't."

Spock swallows. "Explain."

Nyota chuckles. "He loved to give me things. Small, inexpensive things at first. Then bigger things. I was flattered. And then I realized his gifts came with strings." Nyota pours the oil over Spock's shoulders and begins to knead the solid muscles beneath the olive skin. "Suddenly I couldn't turn down a date because I wanted to study. I couldn't go out without him and he would constantly comm expecting me to answer at all times. At first I thought he was just insecure and so I tried to compensate by jumping through his hoops. Perhaps if he saw there was nothing to fear and he could trust me he would take a step back."

"I assume he did not," Spock rumbles as knots loosen under Nyota's skill.

"No, he didn't. He never said it out loud but it was clear that I couldn't express an opinion that differed from his and that I… that I should demonstrate my gratefulness in a manner pleasing to him. It was so subtle I kept second guessing myself. No one knew what Isa was like behind closed doors and I was unhappy and." Nyota's hands still. "I think I was ashamed after a while. I always thought myself too smart for emotional manipulation. That I would shut that stuff down immediately and kick that person out of my life. The fact that I didn't even notice until I was really unhappy and on edge and I couldn't figure out why made me feel so stupid. Like I had deserved it."

Spock wishes to hold Nyota closer but they are already flush against each other, skin to skin. "I am sorry you experienced such duplicity. You in no way deserve such an experience." He wishes to find this Isa from Oxford and break his arms, and then his legs. Then when he lies broken and bleeding Spock will choke the life out of him for attempting to harm his Nyota.

"You're tensing up again, Spock," Nyota says.

"Apologies. I experience strong emotions when it comes to your well-being."

Nyota presses a kiss to the nape of Spock's neck and continues with her massage, adding more oil to his skin. "Thank you. I know you're not him, I know this. You've never made me feel like I had to do something I didn't want to do. I guess I was just scared."

"Explain, please," Spock murmurs.

"Scared to trust myself, I guess. Afraid you'd change. That I would be caught in the same cycle and it would be worse because I love you." Nyota runs her fingers along Spock's shoulder.

"Nyota, I do for you because it pleases me to see you happy and satisfied. Nothing more, nothing less. I was unaware I mimicked problematic behavior from a past suitor."

"I know. I didn't realize how much it still affects me until Gaila kind of forced me to think about it. She said you give gifts as another way of showing how you feel for me, since you're disinclined to say it."

Spock tries not to squirm. "Often it is easier to do rather than say."

"Then I'm going to let you tell me you love me however you want and can," Nyota says. "Because at the end of the day you're not Isa, you're you."

Spock nods in agreement. "I am me," he says. "Also, Nyota if it helps you may remember how difficult it is for me to change my behaviors, as you have remarked previously."

Nyota laughs quietly. "That's true," she admits, and falls silent. With deft hands she works the soothing oils into his neck and back muscles while the steam from the bath opens his pores.

Nyota is thorough in her ministrations, working away stiffness Spock is so used to carrying he only realizes its existence as it fades. She begins to hum lowly, an unfamiliar melody and Spock wonders how he managed for so long without her.

"You did not have to do this," Spock rumbles, his chin resting against his chest. Her ministrations cause his body to move slightly as she works his muscles.

"You have your ways of showing love and I have mine. Besides, it gives me a reason to touch you."

Spock turns to find Nyota's smile is sly. "You never need a reason to touch me," he says firmly.

"Are you – " Nyota's interrupted by Spock's passionate kiss and immediately the heat between them has nothing to do with the temperature of the water. She winds her legs around his waist to pull him closer. "Wow," she says as they part. "We could move this to the bed."

Spock's grin is little more than a baring of teeth. "I am amenable to that suggestion."

"Turn around and let me finish rinsing off the excess oil." Spock dutifully turns and feels a splash on his back and a slide of skin against skin as Nyota scrambles out of the tub. "Gotcha," she crows, leaving Spock still sitting in the tub in surprise. He catches a flash of gleaming skin as Nyota laughingly runs from the bathroom.

It takes only a moment for Spock to leap from the bath, slipping briefly before he jumps onto the bath mat and jumps again to land on the carpet in the bedroom. "Why do you run, Nyota?" he growls, now fully erect and dripping water on the carpet.

Nyota laughs breathlessly. "If you want me, come and get me." She squeals as Spock darts her way, causing her to scramble over to the bed. Spock cuts off any alternate routes, forcing her back onto the bed, scrabbling and weak with laughter. Spock leaps onto the bed and lunges for Nyota's ankle, grasping it firmly in his hand with a satisfied growl.

"Mine," Spock grumbles as he drags a still laughing Nyota across the bed. The perfume of her arousal makes him lean forward and nip the glistening brown skin of her outer knee and higher on her outer thigh, scraping his teeth further up her leg. He turns her onto her front and fills his hands with her glorious backside, hissing in satisfaction as Nyota arches her back, no longer laughing.

"Oh god, Spock. Spock!" Nyota groans and shudders as he presses his mouth to her core from behind, using his dexterous tongue to work her into a frenzy. Nyota swears and grips the sheets in her fists, pushing herself back onto Spock's amazing tongue. It's so good and yet not enough. "Please," Nyota begs, though she's not quite sure what she's begging for.

Spock understands, ravenous for her body as he is; with extreme reluctance he removes his mouth from her and gently eases three long fingers inside, pressing just so against her vaginal walls. Nyota's back bows and she shudders at the sensation. Quickly Spock's whole hand is covered in her juices and he's groaning at the silken sensation against the pads of his fingers. He splays his fingers and rubs her clinging walls until she is mindlessly rutting onto his hand, desperate for release.

Mine, he thinks as he removes his hand and slicks his lok with her juices. Spock pulls Nyota to her knees and she goes eagerly, breathless and on the edge already. When he slides in, deliberately slow in his thrust, Spock does not hold back the roar of satisfaction in his throat.

His skin feels tight all over as he grasps Nyota's hips and begins to move, the sounds of their sex wet and loud. Spock isn't going to last long with Nyota ass in his hands so he pulls out and flips her onto her back.

"What –" She groans as Spock slides in and lifts her into his arms. From this angle it's easier for Spock to raise his fingers to her face, and Nyota turns eagerly to connect his fingers with her psi points.

Immediately sensations bleed across their connection, causing Spock's hips to snap upward as he moves Nyota's body up and down his lok. Spock falls suddenly into his climax, his body going rigid as he grinds upward into Nyota with a choked groan. Nyota is pulled after, clamping down around him and causing Spock to grunt in appreciation.

They fall to the bed in a haze of good energy. Spock lifts himself up so he can look down at Nyota as he wrangles his breathing under control. "That was –"

"Amazing," Nyota finishes, her hands trembling as they run up his arms to cup his face. He nuzzles into her touch and laments silently when her arms fall back onto the bed.

"It can be repeated," Spock says, and she laughs and kisses him deeply.

"We've got to get ready for the concert." Nyota kisses him again and again. "I'm so happy, Spock. You make me happy."

"I have only ever wanted your happiness," Spock says as he rubs his nose along hers.

"I wish it could always be like this," Nyota murmurs before she kisses him again.

Spock does as well. He will make the point to speak to Nyota at another time.

Later. Haste would be unwise.


"M'Umbha?"

"Mahabubu," she calls to her husband, off to the side and out of the way from the steady stream of traffic from the revolving doors. "Has your phone ceased its ringing yet?" M'Umbha asks.

"Sorry, had to take that call." Alhamisi ignores his wife's unimpressed expression and offers his arm. "Now are you going to be mad at me for the whole trip? I told you I may have light work I'll have to see to, but it shouldn't interfere with your plans to smother our daughter," Alhamisi says as they walk to the front desk.

"I'm not smothering. It's not smothering," M'Umbha mutters darkly before putting on a polite smile. "Reservation under name Uhura," she says as she swipes her ID against the senor mounted facing forward.

"Good afternoon, Doctor Uhura. Yes, we have your reservation and we'll be glad to show you to your room. May I ask what brings you to San Francisco? Business or pleasure?"

Alhamisi chuckles and accepts the room key. "Hopefully a bit of both."

"Well do enjoy yourselves. Information and all relevant comm IDs are accessible through your padd and comms once you've connected said devices to our network. Enjoy your stay at the San Francisco Marriott Marquis."