AN: Thank you again Obsessive for noticing that in between posting this at AO3 and here more of my text had gotten eaten. You are like my un-offical, very poorly remunerated beta. xx
Spock
'What happened with your father?' his mother inquired, her concern evident even across 15 lightyears of Subspace.
Spock raised an eyebrow quizzically. 'I am uncertain what you refer to mother. I have not spoken to Sarek.'
She frowned. 'Then nothing has happened? Nothing that would have upset him?'
He was uncertain why she was making such inquires of him. He would be the last person to be aware of what might be weighing upon his father's mind. 'Mother, since my departure from Vulcan I have not had any contact with father, direct, indirect or otherwise save via yourself.'
His mother sighed. 'I am certain something is worrying him.' She gave him a pointed look. 'Something about you.'
Spock thought for a moment. 'I cannot think of any situation which would give him cause for concern.' he said. 'There have been no changes in my circumstances or any events of interest related to me that he would be aware of and which might give him cause to "worry".' he replied evasively. A thought occurred to him. 'Perhaps some diplomatic disagreement has occurred between Starfleet and Vulcan High Command.'
His mother nodded thoughtfully. 'That is possible. He does practically flinch whenever Starfleet is mentioned.'
Spock thought it likely. His father had, quite illogically, grown wary and scathing of Starfleet after his admission to the Academy. An irrational reflection of his disapproval for Spock's choices.
His mother sighed. 'He is in Paris at the moment, sorting out the last of that Cardassian business, and he will be on Earth for another month. It would please me greatly if you were to at least attempt to see him.'
Spock did not deign to offer a response. None that he could give would satisfy his mother.
She gave him a very emotional, very human look – all wide shiny eyes and delicately furrowed brow - from the comm console. Inwardly Spock groaned. 'Please darling. You are not so stubborn as he.' she pleaded. 'I need you to be the mature one in this instance.'
'You are perfectly aware that unless it is to inform him of a decision to resign my commission and return to Vulcan in penitence, Sarek will not welcome word from me mother.' he replied wearily.
'Please Spock? It would mean a great deal to me.'
'What would you have me tell him? He has no interest in my work or career.' Spock asked.
'You need not say anything. The mere fact that you contacted him, even if it is only to observe inane Terran niceties pertaining to the weather, or to discuss your illogical human mother, would please me.' She paused. 'And your father may surprise you.' she said. 'He regrets how you have become estranged, you might find him open to reconciliation.'
Again Spock restrained the urge to sigh. He had no desire to speak of Sarek. It was a topic of conversation he found tiresome and frustrating. 'I anticipate extreme circumstance would be necessary to facilitate that.' Perhaps if he were to contact his father to inform him he had been promoted to Fleet Admiral and named Commander-in-Chief of Starfleet. Or that he'd engineered some sort of scientific breakthrough and would be returning to Vulcan to sit on the Science Academy Board...
Amanda shrugged. 'Maybe, maybe not. He is capable of making his own decision, of ignoring T'Pau and the High Council when he feels it is warranted.'
Spock raised an eyebrow. In his experience Sarek had never once demonstrated the willingness his mother referred to. He felt an old bitterness rise within him, cold and painful.
'He did not feel it warranted to defend his wife or son when we were belittled as inferior beings by the Board of Vulcan Science Academy.' he snapped.
His mother froze in surprise, her eyes widening and her breath coming in a gasp.
Spock felt himself respond in similar shock – his body feezing and his spine stiffening. He had not spoken to his mother in such a transparently emotional manner since he was a child. And he had never spoken of the particulars which resulted in his refusal of his place at the Science Academy and acceptance of one at the Starfleet Academy. To do so would only cause her un-necessary distress. Which he had just done.
'Forgive my emotional outburst mother. I have not had sufficient meditation of late and my mastery of Venilahr is not what it should be.'
Amanda frowned and met his gaze in the intense scrutiny of a concerned human mother. The attention was somehow both comforting and disconcerting at the same time. 'Spock. What is wrong?' she asked in a low voice.
Spock took a deep breath. He was tempted to tell her, to speak to her of his situation. Apart from his father she alone might be able to offer insight. But although his mother was not bound by Vulcan principles of honesty and would attempt to keep a confidence if he asked it of her, she was bonded to a Vulcan. It would be nearly impossible for her to shield her thoughts from his father entirely, and Sarek would know she was hiding something from him.
He could not speak of it to her.
'It is as I said mother, I have not meditated sufficiently of late.' It was not a lie, but it was not the entire truth.
She did not look convinced.
'I have found interactions with humans to be even more… unfathomable than usual of late.' he elaborated. Again, not a lie, but not the whole truth. His mother looked slightly mollified, enough to let the matter rest at least.
'You know I am happy to help you in any way Spock.' she said 'If any of your colleagues or students are confusing you I would be glad to offer my insight.'
Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement. His mother had indeed offered useful clarification and advice during his tenure in Starfleet, but in this case he could not prevail upon her expertise. He had to sort out the mess that was his personal association with Nyota Uhura himself.
He did not contact the Vulcan Embassy and leave word for his father. Not only was the strain in their relationship holding him back, but he was concerned the situation with Nyota would have a negative effect upon his emotional control and his father would note the change. And his interest would not be so easy as his mother's to dismiss.
Spock also had an irrational fear that his father would take one look at him and somehow know what he had been doing. Know that he was keeping a human woman, one of his students at that, as a lover in a strange perversion of both Vulcan and Terran custom. It was impossible to keep anything hidden from Sarek of Vulcan. As a child that had always been the case. He could imagine the disapproval that would mar Sarek's face at the revelation. Especially if he were to realise that Nyota did not understand the extent of the connection between them, that Spock was being… dishonest with her.
Instead of contacting his father, Spock made his way to the C block refectory and partook of his midday meal at a later hour than was his usual custom. He took a seat near the windows which afforded him a view of the south entrance to the D block. There was a small grassed area utilised by students for relaxation and recreation in between the two buildings. He observed several male cadets tossing a football for the apparent edification of the group of female cadets sitting and eating their lunch nearby. Two of them had removed their shirts to display their physiques despite the fact that it was winter. He suspected the illogical display had to do with the Starfleet Academy Gala that would be held two Terran weeks hence. Undoubtedly the male cadets wished to obtain 'dates' in the human tradition for the event. Though why any woman would find a man who risked illness by willingly exposing himself to the elements attractive defied reason.
At precisely 15:03 Nyota appeared on the steps leading down from D Block. She was accompanied by two of her classmates. A Rigellian female - Cadet Zu'mos, and a large human male – Cadet Hendorff. The two cadets were her closest companions in the class she had just attended. The trio crossed the grassed area together, avoiding the football and the cadets chasing it, before exchanging waves and words of farewell. Nyota turned left to head towards her next class across the campus and Zu'mos and Hendorff continued towards the refectory.
From his vantage point Spock was able to maintain visual contact with Nyota for a period of 137 seconds. It was not long enough, but he found himself more centred than he had been when he had sat down with his tray 22.3 minutes earlier. He anticipated it would be at 4.7 hours before he saw her again. He felt an uncomfortable pang.
It was too long.
Perhaps he would cross the campus after his last lecture of the day concluded at 17:00 hours and observe her as she made her way to her own last class of the day. 1.9 hours was far more acceptable than 4.7.
Nyota
Spock apparently approved of the dress she'd chosen for the Academy Gala. He'd stared at her in a manner that seemed, to her and Gaila at least, pretty transparently lustful. For a Vulcan that was. For her own part she was glad to be out of her dress uniform. The gala was the one Academy function where uniform was optional rather than compulsory, and lately it seemed like she'd been dragged to some stuffy soiree in her stiff dress reds every other weekend.
At least she was able to wear a dress and admire Spock at his particular event. Like most of the men in attendance, he'd not acted upon the opportunity to avoid his uniform. That fact didn't upset her at all. His grey Commander's dress uniform was much nicer than the Cadet's variant and she rarely got to see him in it. It somehow made him look even taller and more handsome than his darker instructor's uniform. If that was possible.
When she'd stopped to politely greet the Head of the Linguists Department – Professor Jones, and he'd given her a brief look she interpreted as approval for her appearance, she'd been unable to resist the urge to torment him. She'd stood beside Spock and studiously maintaining eye contact with Professor Jones, swapped her flute of champagne from her right to her left hand, lowing the former and 'accidentally' brushing her fingers against the back of Spock's hand.
He'd flinched almost imperceptibly and she taken an immature delight in the tiny movement.
The remainder of the evening she spent trying not to gaze longingly at him across the room or otherwise draw attention to herself or act like an idiot. She and Gaila were intending to go out dancing after the formal part of the evening was concluded. Getting drunk with bored officers on shore leave and Academy teaching staff wasn't either of their ideas of a good time.
Although Nyota had to admit, the prospect of admiring Spock in his wonderfully tailored uniform was almost enough to make her consider staying purely to loiter near the buffet and stare at him. She tilted her head to the side and allowed herself a moment to stare at him across the hall. The tall lean shape of him, his perfect posture, broad shoulders and dark hair made her sigh into her champagne.
Three hours in and the presentations were over and the attendees were getting stuck into the bar in earnest. Gaila caught her eye and motioned towards the exit. Nyota nodded then turned to try and locate Spock to bid him farewell. She scanned the ballroom twice but there were no tall, devastatingly handsome Vulcans Commanders in sight. She had not had the opportunity to speak privately with him in two days, so she had not informed him of her plans for the evening. There was a good chance he was expecting her at his apartment. She'd been spending most of her free time there of late.
Slightly disappointed she made her way towards the exit. There were little groups of students and Starfleet personnel standing in the outer foyer and thoroughfares of the building. Nyota waved at a few friends but continued towards the exit. She and Gaila were going to change before heading out. Hopefully she'd beat the Orion back to their dorm and get dibs on the shower.
As she approached the wide stairs that led to the main foyer and exit, she noted the presence of Jim Kirk. Her steps faltered. He was talking very loudly and slapping a dark haired man in a Cadet's uniform on the back a lot. Nyota pondered for a moment before turning to take one of the smaller side exits. She wasn't in the mood for Kirk's over the top flirting. She passed a bank of turbolifts and started down the stairs that would take her outside. Hearing someone approach she looked up automatically. A tall figure was headed up the stairs towards her. She stopped in surprise.
Spock.
He met her eyes with his own muted Vulcan variation upon the feeling. He stopped a respectable distance from her, two steps below where she stood. It had the added side-effect… benefit? of placing him exactly on the same level as her. She glanced down at his lips before she could stop herself.
'Cadet Uhura.' he greeted her formally, hands clasped behind his back as per usual.
She nodded. 'Commander Spock.' she returned.
His voice was cool and emotionless but his eyes were boring into hers in a way that made her think perhaps there would be retaliation for her early casual caress of his hand.
'You are departing?' he inquired perfectly politely.
'Yes sir. My room-mate and I are going dancing.' He raised an eyebrow and Nyota felt his disapproval. 'We go dancing once a month – I promised.' she explained before he could voice an opinion on the matter. Tempt her with his own company in place of Gaila's.
He was silent for a long moment before nodding minutely. 'In that case I will bid you good evening… Nyota.' They were quite alone, but his use of her first name seemed dangerous, sent a little nervous thrill through her. She swallowed. He was staring at her intently, awaiting a response. She blinked. As often seemed to be the case where Spock was involved, she had a sudden and completely irrational urge – she wanted very much to kiss him. Just a small kiss. A goodnight kiss? That wasn't… weird. She'd glanced at his lips again before she realised what she was doing. She wouldn't even have to reach, standing below her he was at just the right height to –
He stepped up, closer, and she could smell his aftershave or cologne or whatever it was that he wore that always smelt so good and then his fingers brushed against hers by her thigh. She stifled a gasp as a shot of pure heat passed from his skin to hers like an electric shock. It filled her up, expanded inside her until she felt like she was suffering from a full body blush. She took a deep breath and unwittingly inhaled another deep whiff of him and then with a pathetic little whine of defeat, she threw her arms around those broad shoulders of his and kissed him.
It was his own fault.
She would have been fine, behaved perfectly respectably, but he'd used his goddamned insatiably hot telepathic fingers on her. He didn't appear at all angered by her reaction however. In fact he roughly pulled her against him and proceeded to conduct a very thorough exploration of her mouth with his hot Vulcan tongue. And groped her ass. Nyota groaned and tried to get a hold of herself. She'd promised herself that there would be no more touching, kissing and certainly no more fucking on the Academy campus –they'd agreed on it… and yet here she was trying to shove her hand under his dress jacket in the hopes of locating warm Vulcan skin with a rapidly swelling warm Vulcan erection pressed against her hip. In the middle of stairway. Not even a fire exit or service entrance – a perfectly normal stairway in regular use. It was the classroom all over again. She pulled her mouth from his and tried to catch her breath.
Spock didn't help, he turned his attention to her neck, kissing and licking her sensitised skin and making her gasp and pant all over again. Well, a few more moments couldn't -
Abruptly he released her. She stumbled, almost fell, managed to balance herself on the balustrade.
Spock was standing three steps below her and to the right. She felt the distance between them keenly. But. Well, that was good? She'd been about to tell him they ought to stop anyway… His fringe was slightly mused. Absently she leant forward and brushed it into order with her fingers. He gave her an odd look but made no comment upon the gesture. Her hand settled back by her thigh and she regarded him awkwardly.
As if from underwater she heard voices and footsteps approaching. She inhaled sharply and glanced over her shoulder. Someone was coming. Thank god he'd been paying attention. She took a deep breath and met his eyes. 'Goodnight Commander.' she offered.
He nodded serenely, feigning disinterest like only a Vulcan could. If it hadn't been her throat he'd just had his tongue shoved down, she'd never have believed he'd just been kissing someone. He looked entirely unaffected by their exchange.
She couldn't resist glancing at his pants. She bit her lip and tried not to smirk.
Well, perhaps not entirely unaffected.
