Snow Leave

Chapter 11: Tracks

Warnings: fluff, Emo!Spock, sexuality

References the TOS episode Shore Leave, written by Theodore Sturgeon.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters and do not profit from any fanfiction involving them.

Snow crunched below Nyota's running feet; she blinked as falling snowflakes landed in her eyelashes. A few small sheds and tall, treelike plants stood nearby. The hours she'd spent indoors had limited her knowledge of the sprawling grounds of Bentley House. She quickly decided to try hiding in one of the sheds or behind some of the tall plants. If Spock searched for her there, she would run back to the guesthouse; the large structure was probably honeycombed with potential hiding places.

Her braided hair swung over her shoulder when she looked back towards where she'd left Spock. His dark blue jacket stood out against the white landscape even from a distance. He had indeed honored the head start he promised her, waiting until the last second ticked past to begin his pursuit. Nyota let herself laugh aloud, knowing no one would hear. She'd thought that she and Spock knew each other's appetites fairly well; obviously there was much more to learn.

Running across blizzard-hit land was difficult; the snow was unexpectedly deep in places. In some places the drifts rose as high as her knees. She worked her way back towards shallower snow.

Her booted toe struck a metal object poking up from the snow; it made a humming noise and began to sink down into the ground. Nyota leaned forward just in time to see what looked like an oscillating antenna sink below a trapdoor. Upon closer examination, she noticed that the door looked like a smooth piece of slate and that it was somewhat warm to the touch. Her thoughts leapt to a theory, then a conclusion.

She glanced up. Spock was moving in her direction, not really running, but advancing on her with a cocky, easy stride given speed by his long legs. She dashed behind a nearby plant, running toward the sheds.

Nyota moved along a row of storage sheds, some with walls made of open fencing. She tried a few doors; all were locked except for one long structure with a metal paneled roof. Various pieces of recreational equipment were visible through the open door. She peered inside carefully; no one answered her softly voiced, "Hello? Anyone here?" Safe enough, perhaps. Inside, several long racks of snowshoes, skis, sleds, and unfamiliar, sporty-looking objects provided some cover.

Light streamed through a place in the ceiling where a panel had given way beneath the snow. Maybe this wasn't a safe place to hide after all. She turned to leave but her sensitive ears picked up the sound of footsteps breaking through the crust of snow outside the building. Her footprints would, of course, have been easy to track. A first-semester Starfleet cadet could have tracked her while drunk and using one ear to gossip distractedly with friends on a communicator, and listening to a music player with the other ear. It was hardly a challenge for a determined Spock, even if he was in an altered state.

Heart pounding with anticipation, Nyota slipped behind a rack of skis. She turned and aligned her slim figure parallel to the long skis, breathing quietly. The shed was somewhat dark, except for the bright, jagged patch of light beneath the damaged panel. Snowflakes drifted down through the hole, adding to a mound of snow on the stone floor.

Footsteps sounded near the entrance, changing from loud crunching on snow to percussive steps on stone. Nyota recognized Spock's deliberate pace. Peering through a row of skis, she saw his face in profile as he glanced around curiously at the various types of winter equipment. Even after two days here, they both found such things slightly novel, being children of warm climates. She gauged the distance between him, herself, and the door.

Spock walked up to the mound of snow, looking at it and the damaged roof panel. He pulled out his communicator and signaled someone, speaking in a dry and businesslike voice. "Commander Spock here. Please inform the staff of Bentley House that a shed full of recreational equipment has suffered minor damage to a roof panel; it warrants repair. Thank you, Yeoman. Spock out."

Nyota couldn't hide her huff of frustration. He was the one who'd wanted this. Here she was trying to play along with a fantasy she hadn't even known he'd developed, and he seemed less than devoted to full participation in the experience. He wasn't searching for her hard enough; he'd even made a call that would bring observers to the scene.

"I know that you are here, Nyota," Spock said, his voice a few tones deeper, warmer. Nyota's muscles stiffened, then relaxed. He was using that tone of voice again, the one that promised to do things that she herself could never voice aloud.

Spock's footsteps struck against the stone floor as he walked along the rows of racks crowded with gear. "You have only to decide how you will let me catch you. I will catch you, Nyota." He pushed against one ceiling-mounted rack of objects with rounded spikes; it swayed. "I calculate that it will take approximately eighteen Standard minutes for someone to don appropriate clothing and arrive at this location by powersled. If they come on foot it may take twenty-five minutes. In fourteen minutes, with your consent, I can kiss you and manually stimulate you sufficiently to bring you to climax." He rested a hand against the rack to stop it swaying. "Of course, we do not know who is coming here, or how. Tell me yes or no now, so that we may make the best use of our time."

Nyota couldn't decide. Aside from a few illogical kisses and caresses in secluded areas of Starfleet Academy property, they'd avoided foreplay in public places. Better to make a run for it. She turned toward the door and walked behind the rack on tiptoe.

Spock caught her gasp of surprise under his lips as he met her at the end of the row, wrapping his arms around her waist. He picked her up and carried her to the little patch of light and snow beneath the ruined panel. Smiling devilishly, he let her catch her breath before he leaned down for more.

"I asked you a question, Nyota. Tell me what you want. Must I decide for you?" he persisted between kisses and little bites to her neck.

"Spock, someone will come," Nyota moaned, as her hands slid beneath his shirt to feel his hot skin. She pressed her short fingernails into his back and felt him quiver.

"Yes. You." His hands moved over her breasts and she moaned again. "We must hurry, but it is entirely possible. I consider it a challenge, although I do thank you for wearing a sweater and a shirt that both open in the front," he said, undoing the fastenings. Cold air prickled over her bare skin.

"This is impulsive. Are you feeling like yourself?"

"I have seldom felt more myself." Spock freed one breast from the cup of her bra, watching as her nipple pebbled in the cold. He blew a warming breath on it, kissed it, circled it with his tongue, sucked. She cried out loud enough for anyone to hear and pressed her hips against him, but he only said, "Look," and held her so that she could watch while a few snowflakes drifted down from the open roof to land on her breast, contrasting with her warm brown skin for a fraction of a second before melting. He looked into her eyes, smiling, then bent down and sucked again.

Nyota gave up on rational arguments. Now it was she who pulled him close to her for a deep kiss; it was she who reached for the fastening of his trousers and opened them enough to let her slip her slender fingers beneath the waistband of his black knit uniform issue boxers, stroking him.

She hesitated, unsure about pulling down the fabric; she'd heard some jokes about men's bodies in winter, and she and Spock had never done this sort of thing surrounded by so much cold air. Spock didn't seem to be having a problem. His eyes were half closed, and he was squeezing her shoulder with one hand and stroking her face, neck, and breast with the other.

"Sanoi." Please.

She teased him a little, grasping a few of the hairs along the treasure trail leading down to his penis and pulling them. His eyes widened momentarily and his lips parted. Her fingers moved over his skin again, catching slightly.

"Bek-tor ," she murmured in Vulcan. Wait. She moved close to him to block the flow of cool air over his bared skin, searched her jacket pocket, and found a small tube of hand lotion, a mild type made from ingredients unlikely to irritate sensitive skin. Opening the seal, she squeezed a small dab onto her fingers and spread the lotion over the head and along the shaft of his penis.

"Weh-rom?" She asked. Better? Spock answered by kissing her while gently closing her fingers around him. She whispered to him while her hand moved .

"If we were lying down, I could reach your ears and bite them. Or suck them."

"Let us attempt that next." She changed the angle and speed of her hand. "Ohhh—"

"Spock, you never told me you wanted something like this chase." She moved her free hand to the small of his back and pinched and rubbed his skin there.

"I enjoy our usual activities, but I have…thoughts." Spock's lips brushed her forehead.

"I have thoughts, too. Things I secretly daydream about doing with you."

"You must tell me. I am willing to indulge you."

Nyota laughed softly. "I am already indulged. You do so much for me, love, why not do this for you?" She wished that she could tell him how she wished mysterious planetary forces weren't required to make Spock reveal hidden desires, but this wasn't the time. His breathing grew rapid, then shallow. His head was tilted back, his eyes closed. She rubbed her fingers low, in a circle at the base of his spine and felt his muscles clench.

It was cruel. He was almost helpless. But –

"Forgive me, Spock," she murmured. Pulling her hands free, she slipped around him and ran for the door. She opened the mental bond long enough to clearly imprint two words:

chase me

For a moment, Spock stood staring after her in disbelief, gasping for air. He slowed his breathing, focused his thoughts, and made his erection subside, then disappear entirely. His mental arousal remained; if anything, it grew stronger. A grudging smile crept over his face as he covered himself up and fastened his trousers.

He realized for the ten thousandth time that he had met his match in Nyota.

…

McCoy went to the Common Room to recruit volunteers to help him with preparations for that evening's party. Excited murmurs met his ears as he walked in. A small group of Bentley House staff, Enterprise crew, Maddy, and some medical students were either staring out the large picture window or trying to pretend that they were not looking. Jim Kirk waved McCoy over.

"Commander Spock is chasing Lieutenant Uhura," he murmured, his expression conveying incredulous fascination. "It appears to be some kind of game."

McCoy heard a distant shriek, then a giggle. He quickly moved closer to the window to see for himself. Spock grabbed Nyota around her waist, pretended to struggle with her, then let her go. She ran her fingers along the edge of one pointed ear, rose up as though to kiss him, then moved beyond his reach and ran toward Bentley House. Spock waited for a moment before he bent low like a sprinter and followed her, his feet churning up sprays of loose snow.

"A game, yeah. Or foreplay," McCoy said in a casual tone, keeping his voice low.

Jim shook his head in amazement. "Those two confuse me. Even I don't do stuff like that. I'm surprised at Spock. Kinky bastard."

"Shame on you, Jim; you know that Spock's parents were married," drawled McCoy.

Maddy, who was seated nearby, almost spit out her drink; she slapped a napkin over her mouth. Jim saw her shoulders shaking; maybe her spoken Standard wasn't perfect, but she understood plenty.

"Should we psychologically evaluate Spock? This goes beyond relaxing on shore leave."

"They do have a private life, Jim. For all we know, they may do this all the time when folks ain't lookin'."

Jim imagined Spock and Nyota running through the corridors of the Enterprise during off-hours and shuddered. Life in space was weird enough. "I can't deal with that image."

The sounds of doors opening and closing, followed by running footsteps, sounded in the corridor. There was a loud feminine squeal, then a chime from the lift.

McCoy grinned. "Until we receive a distress call from Uhura, I say we oughta stay out of it."

Jim sighed. Where was his communication from Scotty?

…

Inside the lift, Spock pressed the front of his body against Nyota's back. One hand squeezed her thighs; she swatted his other hand away from the lift controls.

"No, Spock, not here in the lift. This isn't the Enterprise."

He lifted his mouth from the place on her neck he'd been kissing. "Sanoi, ashayam. You were cruel to leave me in that cold shed in such a condition. I demand recompense."

Breaking out in giggles, she bumped back against him with her rear. "You'll get it, you don't need to demand it. Sorry, but it was the only way I could distract you and escape."

"We could have finished. You know from previous experience that I am able to attain more than one erection within a short time period," he said dryly.

"And just how were we going to handle that second erection? Try it standing up in a cold shed?"

Spock turned her to face him as the lift door opened. "I am surprised to hear you speak so frankly, Nyota. Does this game excite you?"

"Three-dimensional chess just doesn't provide the same thrill. Honestly, Spock, you alone are enough to please and excite me. I don't need games."

She leapt into the hallway through the open lift door. "But I am enjoying this one. Head start –" and she was running again.

"Goh dah-kuh lirt'k !" Spock called after Nyota as she ran towards the entrance to the upper level of the gym. Two minutes only.

They hadn't taken time before this game to set any rules. It was becoming difficult to wait. For the first time in his life, Spock considered cheating in a game, ignoring the two minute lead and going right after her.

Or there was something else he could do.

…

The ambassador stood in the conference room. A few stray snowflakes still clung to his dark green cloak.

"Greetings. Nice to see you again, Ambassador."

"Greetings, Captain Kirk. I will get to the point. I owe you and your crew an apology, and an explanation."

"I should have known that you'd hear about the effects of that mysterious stone. Nothing to worry about; I discussed it with the Enterprise away team, and people seem to be managing fairly well. As you may have heard, people are in an exceptionally good, even playful mood, but to my knowledge, no one has become uncontrollable, violent, or damaged any property. I assure you, if there are any problems, the Federation will address them in a discreet and appropriate manner." Jim stopped his lengthy, diplomatically phrased response, and looked at the man closely. "Sorry, an explanation?"

"Well, a partial one. There is no stone, you see. The altered perceptions on Delta Asilo are caused by something completely different."

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