A/N: Thank you for the feedback. I noticed the other day that the word count for this fic has jumped right up there so I am trying to move things along. Pacing is hard.
Chapter #9
"We need to talk." Nyota twisted her head and looked up at him, her dark eyes large and brimming with emotion. They'd just had dinner and were sitting on the sofa together in her small but comfortable apartment.
He looked away, uncomfortable with the intensity of her gaze. "What do we need to discuss?"
"This." Her hand fluttered between them. "Us."
It was a rare moment in which he allowed himself the luxury of entertaining his feelings. He had no desire to discuss their relationship and resented her bringing it up now, after a long day at Starfleet Headquarters with Jim Kirk and the top brass, as his Captain referred to the higher-ranking Starfleet officials. "Nyota-"
"You've been like a ghost for the past month," she murmured, looking down at her hands clasped delicately in her lap. "I hardly see you, Spock."
"It is unfortunate that we have conflicting schedules, Nyota, however-"
"It's not just that." She crossed one slim, shapely leg over the other and sighed. "Things were different when we were on the Enterprise. We spent every day together. Now I feel like we're growing apart and it worries me." She pursed her lips and frowned. "You know that I respect your commitment to Starfleet. I appreciate your being career-driven, but I have to wonder… if we weren't serving aboard the same starship, would we be together?"
"Perhaps not," he said, "but we are assigned to the same starship. When the conflict with the Klingon Empire is resolved the Enterprise will continue with its mission."
"That's not the point I'm trying to make, Spock. Our relationship hasn't grown the way I expected it to. Nothing has changed- we're no closer than we were a year ago. Being on Earth has made me realize that. It felt like more than it was, being on the Enterprise and working together constantly."
The direction this conversation was heading in surprised him. She had clearly given the subject considerable thought before bringing it up. "What do you mean to say, Nyota?"
She sighed and stared down at her hands, visibly struggling with her emotions. Spock took a moment to remind himself that this was precisely why he chose to control his own feelings. Allowing them to run rampant never helped. It only clouded judgement and often caused unnecessary suffering. If Nyota would take a moment to realize this she would not be tearing up and struggling to find the right words. He reached over and rested his hand on her slim shoulder. She sniffled and wiped at her eyes impatiently. "I think our relationship has run its course, Spock. But I… don't want to lose you. I love you."
Despite the fact that he knew this was inevitable and he agreed with her, Spock felt an ache in his chest that he could not supress. He withdrew his hand and looked out the large window across the room. The sun was beginning to disappear and the sky seemed to be on fire with orange and pink rays. "Why grieve, Nyota? I love you now as much as I ever have. You will not lose me."
She began to cry in earnest, burying her lovely face in her hands. He would be forever grateful that he never expressed the momentary resentment he'd felt towards her. The moment was too fragile and he wanted to take her in his arms and wipe her tears away.
"I'm sorry." She pulled her hands away from her face and looked at him, her eyes shining damply. "Please understand. I can't be in a relationship if it's gone stagnant."
"I understand," he said, trying to soften his voice, to make his words more gentle. "I am sorry that I cannot provide what you want."
"But you can, Spock. I know you're capable of being emotionally available. You've shown me that side of yourself and I just wish that you would be like that more often." She wrung her hands together and shook her head. Her signature ponytail swished back and forth with the movement. "I know you think it's wrong to feel, but-"
"I do not think it's wrong. I think you underestimate how deeply Vulcan emotions run. We chose not to feel because it can consume us, Nyota. I do not think you would be so eager to see that side of me. If I allowed myself to be angry right now, do you believe that would benefit either of us?"
"But you should be angry! We've been together four years now. You should be angry that it's not working. I am. I don't want our relationship to be over."
"That is precisely the point. Logically there is no reason for us to continue this relationship, but if I allowed myself to be angry- and I do wish that I had that luxury- then I would not be capable of being rational."
Nyota stared at him for a long moment, then stood up. "Then leave. I'm sorry." She began to cry once more. "I'm almost thirty years old. I need something more out of life. I'm sick of your logic."
She was purposefully attempting to hurt him now, so he rose and went to the door without another word. Perhaps with time and perspective they would be able to discuss this, but for the moment she was right- he needed to leave. Still, he looked over his shoulder at her, his hand gripping the doorknob. She stood in the middle of her living room, her arms folded across her chest, her cheeks damp with tears.
"I cannot be completely Vulcan. I cannot be completely human. Nyota," he said, dropping his gaze to the floor, "I am sorry. You alone seemed to understand. I feel constantly pulled in two very different directions." He opened the door and met her eyes one more time. "Goodbye."
When he closed the door behind him he heard the distinct sound of her sobbing unselfconsciously. His mind drew the conclusion that this had been inevitable. But the worrisome thought that he'd been rejected yet again for his split heritage threatened to overwhelm him. He knew better than to entertain that thought. Yet it kept coming back despite his efforts. He made his way back to his apartment in a daze, aware of himself slipping and grasping for control.
Several days later his doorbell rang, drawing him out of his meditations. He considered not answering it but the possibility that it might be something of importance made him haul himself up from his bed and yank the door open a bit roughly, ready to inform his visitor that he preferred not to have company at the moment. Even if it was Nyota. He had no desire to entertain another soul. He wanted to be alone.
"Hello." Hermione Granger peered up at him with a shy smile.
"Hello." Spock was genuinely surprised to see her. She'd slipped his mind since his discussion with Nyota, which had occurred on the last day of Starfleet Academy's entrance examinations. He supposed an apology was in order for that- after all, he had promised Hermione she would have his support. "I apologize for missing your examination results. Did you succeed in passing?"
She beamed up at him, her eyes sparkling. "Yes. I've been enrolled in the preparatory training program. I start on Monday. If I pass that then they'll let me into the academy and I'll start classes in September."
"Congratulations," he said.
She tilted her head and the sparkle left her eyes. "What's wrong? Has something happened?"
If he didn't know better Spock would have thought he must be visibly upset. But no… it seemed Hermione Granger was simply perceptive enough to gauge his mood. Not that he was upset. "It's of no concern," he said. "I am fine."
"Would you like to be alone?"
Spock found his desire to be alone had suddenly left him when greeted by this girl's concern. He blinked and shook his head. "Please, come in. I would be grateful for your company."
Her smile returned and she stepped into his apartment, closing the door behind her softly. "I only just scraped by in spatial orientation, so I think I'd better start some sort of exercise routine. Some of the other recruits are very fit."
"There are excellent facilities at the academy," he said, punching a code into his replicator and drawing up a mug of tea for her. She would appreciate the sentiment, he knew, and she did look slightly tired. "Perhaps you might want to ask Captain Kirk for assistance- he is quite physically active."
"He must be quite busy, though," she said, taking the offered mug from him and sitting down at his kitchen table. "Is the Federation any closer to a resolution with the Klingon Empire?"
"Some progress has been made, however they are still demanding Captain Kirk be tried for trespassing in Klingon space. They have accepted that he did not kill an entire Klingon patrol."
"Well, that's a start." She pulled her wand from her pocket and poked her mug of tea with it before taking a sip.
"Starfleet has reopened interstellar travel as well," he said.
She set her mug down and considered him for a moment. "Does that mean the Enterprise will be leaving Earth?"
"Yes."
Hermione did not seem pleased with this information. A small frown touched her mouth and she looked down at her tea. "Won't it be dangerous, though? What if the Klingons decide to attack the Enterprise when it's so far from Earth?"
"I believe we will not leave Earth for several months," he said.
Her posture loosened and she propped her elbows on the table. "Good," she said softly.
Spock did not want to discuss Starfleet activity in any capacity- he'd had enough of that over the past week, so he directed the conversation back to her. "Has the academy offered you a room in residence?"
She brightened considerably and nodded. "Yes, I'm moving on Sunday. It's very exciting, isn't it? I do hope I'll be able to keep up with my fellow recruits. And I hope I'll get on with my roommate- I'm sure it will be fine, but… you know, I've only just settled in and now everything is changing again. It feels as though I've been here for a year rather than a month."
"You are evidently very adaptable. I think it will serve you well," he said. "Have you given thought towards your course of study?"
Hermione nodded and sipped at her tea. "Yes, I've been thinking about it. I think I'll focus my studies on physics." She eyed him with an expression bordering on suspicious. "Are you all right, Spock?"
He nodded curtly. "I am."
"I thought Vulcans couldn't lie."
"I am not lying, Hermione. There is nothing wrong with me."
She chewed on her lower lip for a moment and stared down at her tea. "You seem a bit upset."
He couldn't imagine why she would think so, but then she was quite insightful and perhaps her magical capabilities gave her an upper hand in reading people. He did not think it appropriate to discuss his personal life with others, but he was quite tempted. Vulcans were extremely private and intimate relationships were not openly discussed even amongst couples, as they tended to be loaded with emotions, but the human part of him- which he acknowledged quite readily at the moment- felt a keen desire to tell her. He weighed his options while Hermione studied her tea intensely.
Perhaps she would understand better than most.
"You are aware I was involved in a romantic relationship with Lieutenant Uhura. She terminated it several days ago."
Hermione lifted her gaze and stared at him as though he'd spoken in a foreign language. "I see," she said slowly.
"It is unfortunate," he said, avoiding eye contact with her, "but perhaps inevitable."
"Inevitable?"
"I believe so."
"Is it because you're half-Vulcan?"
As much as he tried Spock could not ignore the bitterness that seemed to swell in his chest. Still, he did not express it. He merely nodded and met her solemn gaze with a half-shrug. "There are certain irreconcilable differences between humans and Vulcans."
"What about your parents?" she asked softly. "Surely they must have gotten on well enough?"
"There are always exceptions." He looked down at his hands. "I am the only Vulcan-human hybrid that I know of. Perhaps that is evidence for incompatibility amongst the two species'."
"I'm sorry." Hermione reached across the table and seemed to hesitate for a moment before taking his hand in hers and wrapping her fingers around his. Spock found with minimal effort his mind melded easily to hers- he only needed to consider it and they locked together as though through some sort of magnetic attraction. Her mind was a sharp presence, precise and linear, her thoughts jumping from one thing to the next in a rational progression. He felt her concern and a desire to be of assistance to him.
She pulled her hand away quickly and gave herself a small shake. "Do you do that on purpose?"
He lifted an eyebrow and tilted his head. "Not entirely. You are quite adept at manipulating the psionic energy field- it seems to draw me in when we make physical contact. I will endeavour to resist it in the future."
"It doesn't- I'm not bothered by it," she said quickly. "It just startles me. Did I ever tell you there's a branch of magic that involves, for lack of a better term, mind-reading? It's called Legillimency. And Occlumency involves shielding your mind from a Legillimens. I understand they're both quite difficult to learn."
Spock had the impression she was attempting to distract him. He appreciated that. It improved his mood considerably. "Interesting," he said.
She offered him a weak smile and wrapped her hands around her mug of tea. "I'm sorry, Spock. I wish I had something more useful to say but I'm afraid I don't have much experience with romantic relationships."
"There is no need to apologize, and your very presence is quite useful to me." He was amused to see her cheeks rapidly turn an interesting shade of pink. "I find it curious that you do not have experience in regards to romantic relationships. It is quite common for adolescent humans to seek intimacy with each other."
Hermione made a fascinating noise that he could only describe as a giggle. "Oh… well… I did go out with a famous quidditch player last year. Quidditch is a sport," she added quickly, "played on broomsticks- it's not terribly interesting, really."
"Broomsticks?"
"Flying broomsticks."
He tried to imagine such a sight in his head but found it too ludicrous to entertain. "Fascinating. Is this method of transportation used frequently?"
"Not really. There's always the risk of being seen, and besides it's not very fun." She wrinkled her small nose in distaste. "I don't like flying. Not on broomsticks, at any rate."
Spock conceded a very small smile as he attempted to picture Hermione Granger astride a floating broomstick.
Several hours had passed by with rather remarkable speed as they talked idly about a variety of subjects. He found her excellent company, as always, and it was a rather pleasant distraction from what he'd been engaged in earlier- he supposed it amounted to what Doctor McCoy would call 'moping.' It weighed on his mind, that Nyota had decided to end their relationship. Not because he'd wanted to continue it, but because of the implications. He could not help feeling as though he must be inadequate in some way, on some level, as far as humans were concerned.
It was perhaps the first time he'd ever seen his Vulcan side as a disadvantage, and that made him extremely uncomfortable. He pursued life the way a Vulcan would. He honored his Vulcan heritage. He'd chosen to do so, believing it to be the superior approach, the logical approach. And that was why he occasionally felt so very conflicted. He rarely could choose to act illogically.
It was quite late in the evening when Hermione finally glanced at the clock. "Goodness," she said in surprise, "it's past 10:00."
Spock had been keeping track of the time almost unconsciously and was surprised not by how late it was, but by how rapidly the time had passed. They were sitting on his sofa and she had been explaining ghosts to him, a concept so bizarre he found himself struggling to believe her. "Perhaps it is time to retire for the day," he said. "I shall escort you to your apartment if you wish."
Hermione fluttered her small hand at him. "Oh, you don't have to do that," she said. "I'm sure I'll be all right by myself. There doesn't appear to be much petty crime going on these days."
He knew she was right, but felt oddly compelled to see her home safely regardless. Truthfully he did not want her to leave. She was an extremely welcome distraction from his current situation. "I insist," he said quietly.
She didn't argue with him, though her cheeks flushed with color once more. They left his apartment and went out into the warm San Francisco night- he slowed his pace when he noticed she struggled to keep up with his long stride. The silence that fell over them was comfortable and Spock felt at peace with himself and the world as they wandered towards her apartment complex.
Eventually Hermione broke the silence with a curious question. "How old are you, Spock?"
"In earth years, I am thirty," he said. It seemed to be a random question. He wasn't entirely sure what her thought progression was, nor her motivation for asking. Perhaps simple curiosity? She had an extremely inquisitive nature. "Why do you ask?"
"Out of curiosity," she said, flashing him a shy smile. "Vulcans have longer lifespans than humans, don't they? Does that mean that you're biologically younger than a thirty-year old human?"
"I believe so."
Hermione studied him for a brief yet intense moment before looking away. "Fascinating," she said.
Spock struggled to keep a straight face- the fact that she was grinning made it all the more difficult for him. But he managed all the same, and when they reached her apartment building he felt compelled to express his gratitude towards her for providing such wonderful companionship. "I find your presence very enjoyable, Hermione. Thank you for entertaining me today."
She hovered by the door and beamed up at him like a shy young girl. "I'm happy to help," she said. "Are you busy on Sunday? Would you like to help me move into residence?"
He would very much like to help her move. "Of course."
"Then I'll see you on Sunday." She reached out a bit awkwardly and patted his shoulder. "Take care of yourself, Spock. I hope you feel better."
He glanced down at her hand, hesitated for a brief moment, then gently took it in his own hands and memorized every detail, every line in her palm and the texture of the skin covering her knuckles. He knew that he was being perhaps a bit invasive, but humans did not consider hands a particularly intimate part of their bodies. Vulcans, being touch telepaths, saw it as quite personal to make physical contact with their hands, therefore It was generally reserved for family and mates. He'd been irritated when he first came to Earth, when so many humans he met immediately offered their hands to him. At first he'd engaged in handshaking as a way of greeting but eventually it became too strange for him.
"I feel much better," he murmured, releasing her hand but keeping the details of it sharp in his mind. "Goodnight, Hermione."
Her entire face was flushed as she bade him goodnight and slipped into her apartment complex. He found his body seemed much lighter than before and his mind had finally become quiet, the effects he'd been attempting to instill through meditation. He pondered that as he walked at a leisurely pace back to his own apartment.
He never did get the opportunity to help Hermione Granger move from her temporary apartment into the residences at Starfleet Academy. The day before her move his communicator beeped and he was called to Headquarters, where Commander Beckett informed Captain Kirk and himself that the U.S.S Enterprise would be sent on patrol around Sector 47, which lay a mere seventeen light-years from Klingon space.
The crew of the Enterprise mobilized immediately. Spock felt something akin to guilt as he watched his fellow crewmates assemble and file into numerous shuttles in an orderly fashion. He'd told Hermione that he would not be leaving Earth for several months, and he'd promised her he would see her tomorrow. Certainly strange, to feel guilt for a girl he had no responsibility for. But he was fond of her, and they seemed to share a unique connection that he could not deny he wanted to explore further, and so leaving Earth seemed less appealing to him than it might have if he wasn't leaving Hermione Granger behind.
"Captain," he said, catching Jim Kirk's attention quietly, "may I request a moment to make a personal call?"
Jim gave him a peculiar look and nodded. "Sure, but make it quick Mr. Spock. We're departing in thirty minutes."
Spock slipped away and dialled Hermione's phone number. It rang twice before her lightly accented English voice came on the line.
"Hello?"
He nearly said 'Spock here,' out of pure habit, but decided a less formal approach was more appropriate. "Hello, Hermione. I do not have much time to speak to you- the Enterprise has been assigned to patrol. We are departing shortly." He paused and found himself at a loss for what to say.
Hermione spoke before he could apologize. "You're leaving? For how long?"
"I do not know." He looked out the window at the shuttles and felt a heaviness in his chest that he could not ignore. "I am sorry to leave on such short notice. The nature of being a Starfleet officer requires-"
"I understand," she interrupted him softly. There was perhaps just a hint of sadness in her voice that he might be imagining.
"I wish you well in your preparatory studies. I will certainly keep in contact with you." It felt oddly wrong and he was compelled to inform her of that. "I would prefer to remain on Earth," he added.
"Be careful out there." Now her voice was definitely sad. "You'll keep in contact? Can you call me from the Enterprise? Or leave messages at the academy?"
"I believe we will be too far apart for communications but I will certainly send messages for you."
"Every week?"
She was asking for a promise. Spock gave it to her perhaps too eagerly. "If you wish, I will endeavor to do so." He noticed Captain Kirk through the window, pulling a communicator from his pocket. They had run out of time. "I must go," he murmured into the telephone. "I expect you to do well in your studies, Hermione. You will be in my thoughts. Live long, and prosper." It sounded far too final but he knew she would take it for what it was- a traditional Vulcan farewell.
"Peace and long life," she said.
He severed the connection between them and hurried out onto the tarmac with a startlingly heavy heart. Jim Kirk patted his shoulder as they boarded the shuttle. He glanced briefly at Nyota, whom he had not seen for nearly a week. She avoided him pointedly and carried on a light conversation with Montgomery Scott as the shuttle lifted into the air.
"You okay?" Kirk asked him.
"What do you mean?" Spock raised his eyebrows.
"You know."
"I am fit for duty, Captain." He did not miss the subtle glance Kirk shot at Nyota Uhura.
"Starfleet should really be stricter about their workplace romance policy," he muttered.
"I assume you would fail to comply if they were."
"That's not the point." Kirk conceded a smile as the shuttle lurched abruptly into the air. Several seats down, Dr. McCoy made a very peculiar yelp.
