DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own Star Trek. And I'm not making any money from this.

Spock alert: If you think Spock is sweet, virginal and innocent you REALLY might want to stop right here.

Breakdown

For 170 days after that incident Spock and Uhura maintained what Spock regarded as a very successful professional relationship. Both went about their tasks in the lab in a way that he regarded as most satisfactory--that is they didn't talk much and they stayed out of each others way. His research surged ahead of schedule.

On day 171 everything changed.

Meditating on it later, Spock realized it probably wasn't one little thing, but a whole host of things which caused him to have a stunning lapse of judgment and control.

It was exactly seven days after spring final exams. Spock had given Uhura the week of exams off on the condition that she make up the time in the week after. They'd spent the whole week in close proximity, but that wasn't the cause of the lapse. In fact Spock hardly thought he'd noticed.

On the evening before day 171 Uhura had taken refuge from the activities of her Orion roommate and spent the night in the lab. Spock had indulged in his usual 30.5 seconds of admiring her while she slept. She had taken him up on the advice to keep a blanket and a pillow, so his admiration was a bit more confined, but still...

Of course this had happened many times before, so that really wasn't the cause.

The real trouble started at 3 pm in the afternoon on Uhura's last day before leaving to visit her family for two weeks. There was a power surge in the department and one of his subspace transmitters blew a fuse in the midst of a simulation. Spock immediately called maintenance to get help, and was told he would have to wait approximately 3.5 days before anyone could be there to fix it.

Spock pondered the newly non-functional large rectangular black box with the emitter array at the center. It was about 1 meter tall, and three quarters of a meter wide in both directions. It was too heavy to lift without assistance. "Can you fix it Lieutenant?" Uhura asked him.

"Internal diagnostics show that the fuse in question is underneath, a shocking flaw in the design. Not to mention, why didn't the surge protector mediate the power surge?"

Uhura, looked at the transmitter, "It is really old. You know, I've become pretty close to the other aides in the labs. These things happen--most of them keep tools around so they don't have to rely on the maintenance union. If you think you can fix it I can probably get them to loan us their gear."

"That sounds much preferable to waiting three days. Lets go."

If Uhura had gone alone to pick up the tools, she might have come back with several male assistants in tow, eager to show off their skills in electronic repair. But the male aids on seeing Spock blanched a little – he'd been told that working under his supervision had a tendency to make cadets nervous. They quickly handed over the tools Spock would need, but didn't offer to give any assistance.

So Spock was left to fix it himself with Uhura's help -- which he thought would be minimal. As talented a linguist as she was, she was definitely not experienced with hardware and seemed to have no natural inclination for it either.

Jacking up the signal transmitter he found that the board with the damaged fuse actually came out fairly easily -- there were just a few clips to disengage and two wires to disconnect. He was able to pull the board out from underneath and do the repair at his work station.

It was putting it back that proved to be the problem. The wires that had disengaged so easily when he'd taken out the electrical board did not slip as easily back into place. Laying on his back underneath the transmitter he was trying to hold up the part and slip his fingers around the board itself to engage the wires above…all while holding small flashlight in his mouth. It wasn't working.

"Cadet Uhura," he called, "Would you come under here and hold the flashlight."

In only a few seconds she had joined him underneath the heavy black box. Her small frame was just inches away from his and he was suddenly acutely aware that it had been a long time since he'd been physically intimate with a human female; he studiously did not count the days, or was it years now?

Feeling a twinge of annoyance at her for making him cognizant of this he did his best not to show it. It wasn't logical to lay the blame for his discomfort on something beyond her control.

"Hold it this way Cadet, no more to the left, more to the right. Okay, yes there." He moved his fingers around the board...and failed to connect any of the wires.

He saw Uhura lick her lips out of the corner of his eye as if preparing to say something, and he stifled more irritation. Did humans have to be so expressive? "Lieutenant, my hands are smaller, I think I can reattach the wires."

Since he was getting nowhere there was only one logical response, "By all means, Cadet, make an attempt."

"Here, hold the flashlight," she replied her small finger tips grazing his own as she placed it in his hands.

Spock wasn't a particularly strong contact telepath, but fingertip to fingertip touch was enough even for him to receive a flash of her physiological state and emotions. Particularly her most immediate emotion. She was as cognizant of their close proximity as he was -- but she was not at all annoyed, in fact...He felt himself flush. Couldn't humans keep these things to themselves?

"I think I've got the first wire connected," she said smiling and looking side ways at him. He managed to nod for her to continue. He was in a very uncomfortable state of being both aroused and annoyed simultaneously -- and of course betrayed neither.

She slid her hands around the board to the next wire. The light was useless to her now, the connection she needed to make was completely hidden by the board itself, she would have to finish the task by touch alone. Flashlight unneeded now Spock could move but instead just watched her as she closed her eyes and concentrated, her tongue flicking lightly on her lips.

"Got it!" She said opening her eyes and turned her head to flash him a brilliant smile. He glared at her with one lifted eyebrow for just a few seconds too long, and then ran his hands around all the clips to make sure the board was secure.

"Let us begin the diagnostics," was all he said.

Once the diagnostic tests proved their repair job to be a success, they began making up for lost time.

At 7 PM Commander Sharpton came in. "You're still here," she said. It wasn't a question and Spock wasn't certain how to respond to rhetorical comments. Both he and Uhura were engaged in a critical point of preparing the next simulation, they couldn't come to attention but Uhura responded, "Good evening, Commander. Yes, the signal transmitter blew a fuse and we lost some time fixing it, but we're almost caught up now."

Sharpton smiled at her, "Aren't you supposed to be in Africa?"

"Tomorrow," Uhura replied, "I already packed--staying a little later isn't going to do me any harm."

The Commander looked back at Spock, "I noticed that you've been moving ahead of schedule over the last few months. How did that happen?"

Spock replied quite honestly, barely looking up from his console, "Cadet Uhura has proved most efficient at cataloging and organizing data, and she has helped run simulations on occasions I am not available. I am ahead of schedule and will be finishing and submitting my paper for review before the end of the summer recess."

"That's impressive," said Doris, more to Uhura than to Spock. Then she turned to the Vulcan and said, "Let's talk," and she strode into his office without a backward glance. Spock pushed a final button and followed her.

As soon as they were alone and out of earshot Commander Sharpton turned and looked at him, "Lieutenant, it is often customary to show appreciations for assistants by providing them with a meal occasionally, and especially after a job well done or on their last day."

Spock blinked, "I am sure that Cadet Uhura would prefer to spend tonight resting up for her trip tomorrow."

The Commander looked at him and sighed, "Spock, she is the only assistant that you've managed to keep...and she's put you over two months ahead of schedule. Try to keep her. Ask her out to dinner, or a drink, or something."

"Well, if it is customary..." Spock had said.

Doris rolled her eyes and walked out of the office. She turned briefly to the Cadet as she strode out of the room and said, "Have a nice break, Uhura."

"Thank you, Commander," Uhura replied, but the Doris was already out the door and down the hall.

Spock followed her out of the office and watched her leave the lab, then he turned to Uhura and said in his normal clipped tone, "Cadet, would you like to get something to eat?"

Vulcan's try not to let tiny irritations get them down, nonetheless he was a trifle annoyed when Uhura responded immediately and enthusiastically. "Yes! That would be great!" He had wanted to start writing his paper that evening.

All the campus facilities were closed, and the nearby bars that served food were packed due to a soccer match between Earth and Mars Colony 2, so Spock took Uhura to a Thai place he was familiar with near his apartment--it was clean, the service had always been respectable, and the menu offered him more than French fries.

He hadn't meant to, but he managed to impress Uhura overly much with his choice. "It's beautiful," she declared. "The traditional furniture and art is so lovely. And the food is wonderful. I'm so glad we're not just getting beer and pizza."

Spock made a mental note that this comment probably meant beer and pizza would be more appropriate for these sorts of occasions.

The conversation wasn't too painful. She maintained her professional demeanor, and the food provided a safe topic for discussion. Uhura asked him about the Earth cuisines he'd tried, and what places he'd visited. Spock did his best not to be to curt when she asked him questions, and to ask all the polite questions he thought were appropriate about her courses, her family and upcoming vacation.

And then just as they were leaving the restaurant the game got out. Trying to avoid the packed street Spock took her wrist and guided her towards an alley he often used to avoid crowds. This was acceptable physical contact as it served to keep them from being separated. He dropped said wrist discreetly once they were out of the herd's way.

The alternate route was the next circumstance that Spock might have believed fate had contrived specifically against him--if he'd been a full human of the sort that believed in this sort of thing.

They'd only walked about half a block when three rough looking humans stepped out of door in front of them. It was evident they were inebriated, and had probably just finished watching the game. They saw Uhura, and began to whistle. And then they noticed Spock, or rather, then they noticed Spock wasn't human. The taunts began immediately.

"Hey, look, she's got herself a pointy eared Martian."

"Hey honey, didn't you know, we just beat the Martian's 3-0."

"...Yeah, what are you doing with this pointy eared loser."

After enduring a childhood of similar taunts Spock did not like to reward tormentors with an emotional response. He kept walking forward, hands now behind his back, Uhura marched right next to him, head held high, matching his steps exactly. That was commendable, but after mentally calculating the odds that there would be physical conflict he held up an arm and pushed her back a step. He didn't want her in the way. As a human female who weighed maybe 46 kg and stood less than 162.56 cm tall he didn't think she'd be much help--nor did he think he'd need it. As way as explanation he said, "There are only three of them, and they are also very inebriated."

They were now less than five feet from the trio and of course this comment was overheard.

"Only three of us? Only three of us pointy ears? Can't you count? Three is more than two and I don't think your girlie is going to do you much good in this fight."

At this point Spock felt Uhura start to move forward, but Spock stops her by saying calmly, "Cadet, we want to make sure if and when we fight it is only in self defense."

"Oh, so you want a chance to defend yourselves," the largest of the trio said. "I can give you that."

And then without preamble he aimed a fist at Spock's jaw. Spock stepped out of the way, but let the blow graze him just a bit on the mouth. He tasted a little blood and knew there would be swelling. He felt immensely relieved that force was now justified. With one blow to the chin he knocked the first man out cold. At seeing his friend go down one of the other members of the trio rushed forward. Spock grabbed one of the on-rushing man's arms, neatly stepped aside and used the man's own momentum to spin him around. He had the would-be assailant's back pressed against his chest and his arm in an armlock. Spock briefly considered letting him go, but delivered a Vulcan nerve pinch instead. He really had no desire to draw this out.

The third man had been hooting for his buddies, but after watching the second member of his group go down he abruptly went silent. Then he threw up.

Spock put his arms behind his back and looked back at Uhura. Her face did not show any fear, only surprise mixed with wonder. "I'm sorry," she said, "That happened so fast, I wasn't any help."

Spock still wasn't sure how someone so petite could have been much assistance, but he decided not to point that out. Instead he said, "That is quite alright. As I said, there were only three of them, and they were quite inebriated. Let us leave. The smell here is rapidly getting more unpleasant." He stepped over the two men on the ground, avoiding the third still retching companion.

"Right." Uhura said following after him. As she caught up with his stride she said, "He hit you."

"I am aware of that, Cadet." Spock replied. Why did humans insist on stating the obvious? His outward demeanor hadn't changed but he could feel his heart beating faster, and the taste of adrenaline mixed with the blood in his mouth. He would like the opportunity to sit down and meditate, physiology he knew could overcome psychology and he might wind up behaving irrationally.

Then Uhura spoke again, "Don't you think you should put some ice on that?"

"That is not necessary, Cadet."

"Lieutenant, I really think we should put some ice on it."

"I'll be fine," he replied not breaking his stride.

"Please," she implored, "Wouldn't you like to just sit down for a moment and relax? Maybe there is someplace around here where we could get an ice pack..."

She placed a hand on his arm and Spock stopped short, then looked at her and watched with an odd sort of detachment as she moved her hand tentatively up as though to touch his face. He could hear her heart beating rapidly, and see a faint flush spread on her cheeks.

Then he made another mistake. Almost unconsciously he raised his own hand to move her offending hand to the side. He should have grabbed her wrist, but instead he lifted his open palm and touched her fingertips against his own, he'd wonder later if it were a Freudian slip of sorts. He moved her hand away with a bit of a scowl, but the damage was done. He felt genuine concern, but it was laced with the physical desire he'd felt earlier.

And then logic betrayed him. It was logical to sit down for a minute, get his own rushing blood under control. A swollen lip was painful. It was logical to take steps to avoid additional pain. And even if he was very attracted to the young human female in front of him and she was attracted to him it didn't logically follow that anything would come of it -- in fact that assumption was expressly illogical, the "slippery slope" fallacy -- there was a Latin word for it, but it escaped him at that moment. And suddenly there was no internal conflict.

"It would be good to sit down and meditate for a few minutes. And an ice pack would be useful. My quarters are close by; we can stop by just for a moment."

They went up to his apartment. She commented that she was surprised he lived off campus, and he said something about liking the privacy that living off campus provided and the access to better food -- she laughed at that which made her even prettier, but of course he hadn't been joking, just stating the facts. Then when they entered his door and slipped of their shoes, she told him to sit down she'd get the ice. He sat gratefully down at one corner of his couch and tried to take stock of himself. He found himself wondering how she could know her way around his kitchen without being given a formal tour, but she came back in just a few minutes with an ice pack. It made him wonder if Vulcans and humans arranged their kitchens in similar fashions due to some convergent evolution.

She sat down beside him, slightly at an angle and very tenderly dabbed his lip with a cloth, "You're bleeding a little bit," she explained. There was he realized, no regulation against a student dabbing blood away from an instructors lips. And she was completely unfazed by emerald blood. That was appreciated. Then she gently held up the ice pack and pressed it to his swollen mouth and it was logical to take her wrist and use it to guide her hand to exactly where it should be, and if he gently began stroking her wrists there wasn't any specific regulation against that. Granted, it would be against the Vulcan code of conduct but he wasn't on Vulcan, was only half Vulcan, he was unbound, and no Vulcans were watching...

And then all rational thought broke down. The part of him that felt desire as acutely as any human 26 year old male had grabbed hold of the strings of logic and used it against him, and then when he needed logic that same part of him let go of the strings of reason completely.

He pulled her wrists down from his face, and pressed his forehead against hers. His Vulcan ears could detect her elevated heart beat -- or maybe it was his. He kissed her very gently and she responded, equally gentle, a little bit timid. He brought his hands up to her face and stroked her cheeks -- but not with his fingertips, with the back of his hands. The kiss ended, too quickly for him. She pressed her forehead against his. Was she hesitating? That was not how it was supposed to go. Maybe he was supposed to say something?

And here he made what he wasn't sure was the worst choice of the day, or oddly the best. He turned the palm of one his hands around and touched her forehead with two fingertips. He couldn't say he wanted her with words, but he could show her in ways that had worked before. It wasn't a mind meld. Nothing as drastic as that, more of a mind touch. He let his want slip through his fingers into her mind. She moaned and he let his free hand drop to her waist and pull her onto his lap. She let him guide her without protest.

He took his fingertips away and she seemed to stiffen, so he flicked them back to her temple. Her body went soft again, she sighed a little and kissed him deeply and eagerly...and then did something Spock hadn't expected from a human. Her mind reached back through that connection in his fingertips, he could feel her surveying his lust and felt her own build. This was unexpected and very, very good, Spock pulled her closer and kissed her harder. She responded with her body and her mind, physically she was pushing more closely against him, mentally she was looking for something, but he couldn't discern what it was, the connection wasn't deep enough.

And then suddenly Spock felt her realize that whatever she was looking for wasn't there. And it hurt her and her pain hurt Spock too.

Her body stiffened, she turned cold and the coldness spread from her to him through his fingers. It was like a bucket of ice water had been dropped over them both. Their lips and arms disengaged, she started to tremble and awkwardly pulled herself away to the other corner of the couch. She pulled her feet underneath her, and wrapped her arms around herself, but there were no tears in her eyes.

Spock tried to assess her emotional condition, a task he wholly unqualified for he realized. She didn't look angry, only a little sad he thought. He didn't know what to say, he only tilted his head in her direction.

Finally, she broke the silence, "I am an abstraction to you...a pretty human girl who works in your lab. You have no feelings for me at all." Her words were spoken completely without emotion.

A/N:

If you read and enjoyed this please review! It is the only way Fan Fiction writers get paid. It has been a long time since I wrote this story, and reviews now are almost sweeter when it was first written…it is nice to know that people are still reading it and that it hasn't just vanished into the nether world of the intertubes.