Sorry for the delay, I was out of the country for a while! Hope some of you are still out there!


"Wasn't sure you were going to make it, Commander." Pike says with a wink as Spock joins him at the Starfleet shuttle bay at JFK airport. He is the last to arrive, on time to the second, for their low-speed flight to Iowa.

"I arrived precisely on time," Spock observes, frowning at the rest of the crew, already assembled and ready to go. He still doesn't quite understand human timeliness—he is always first to arrive at social gatherings and last to arrive at professional meetings, despite always being sure to arrive at the predetermined hour. He adjusted his behavior according to these practices during his first years on Earth, but today he could not help but linger in his lodgings that morning.

He woke alone, having slept more deeply than he had in some time. There was no evidence of the past night's events besides the wrinkled sheet between his arms. He sat up, considered what had occurred in the fresh clarity of morning.

Kissing her was a terrible idea. Everything that followed was equally inadvisable. He sat against the headboard for a long time, bewildered by the entire scenario. After the first kiss he had really thought she might strike him, given the irate expression on her face. He had never expected the eagerness of her response. It had unhinged him, snapped open all the fastens he had kept on the part of him that wanted to devour her—the part he was just barely aware of until it was given the opportunity to act.

He did not know if this meant she returned his feelings. He had resisted the urge to mind meld with her—he had only ever melded in that way with T'Pring, and he had not done the proper research and preparation to attempt such a link with a human. He therefore had no idea what she was thinking. He had tried to stop and discuss it multiple times, but Nyota seemed very uninterested in talking and he could not find it in himself to insist, given the tempting alternative. He thought there would be plenty of time for all of that in the morning, but she was gone and he was alone and at a loss.

He entertained the idea that she may return or send him a transmission at some point that morning, so he had waited to leave until the last possible moment. He showered, dressed, meditated, but she did not come or send him a message of any kind.

Was that what humans refer to as a "one-night stand"? Many humans take sexual encounters much more lightly than Vulcans. For them it is a purely physical act, and thus much less intimate. He does not know Nyota's stance on the matter. They had, of course, never broached such inappropriate subjects.

"You okay?" Pike asks Spock as they strap into their seats.

"In what sense?" Spock replies, snapping out of his reverie.

"You seem a bit out of it. Long night?" There is a teasing glimmer in Pike's eyes. Spock looks away quickly.

"I am fine." He folds his hands in his lap and keeps his gaze forward. He would prefer not to call attention to their encounter last night; while Captain Pike seems rather amused by the situation, Spock does not take intersections of personal and professional life lightly, despite the inevitability of it given their impending five-year mission.

"Alright folks," Pike announces over the chatter in the cabin. "We're going to have to surrender all our devices as soon as we get on site, so send your transmissions now." In these final stages of construction, all of the technology on the Enterprise is state-of-the-art and top secret. Starfleet is taking no chances with the Federation's flagship.

Spock takes out his PADD to make sure he's replied to any important messages from the Academy. He checks his comm—no missed calls. Perhaps she is still sleeping.

Or perhaps she is now regretting what had occurred between them. Perhaps she sees it as a momentary lapse in judgment. Had he coerced her in any way? Was she overly intoxicated? (It had not seemed that way in the moment, but he cannot be sure.) He has many questions, but he does not want to press her. He has never before done anything remotely like this, and he does not know what is the socially accepted procedure is.

At last, having no other option, knowing he will be out of communication for the next week and a half as soon as they land, Spock composes a concise transmission to send Nyota:

Cdt. Uhura—

I will be out of communication for the next twelve days. I will not be able to answer any calls or receive any transmissions during this time. If you wish to be in contact, you may reach me when I return.

Cdr. Spock

This message conveys neither the strength of his feelings for her, nor the budding, though perhaps vain, hope of reciprocation that was kindled last night. It does not express how well he thought their bodies fit together, how he had cupped her sleeping face in his hands and kissed her forehead, her eyes, traced her cheek, jaw, ear with his fingers—how fortunate he considered himself, to be allowed to touch her in such a way. How right it felt to lie beside her, how forlorn it was to wake up without her.

How she never fails to make him behave illogically, and how readily, eagerly even, he succumbs to this behavior.

The sky outside the cabin windows is a crisp blue, the sun illuminating every ripple and thread in their uniforms. On that half-hour transport, shoulder-to-shoulder with Captain Pike and the Chief Engineer, his skin warmed by the morning light, Spock begins to realize that he might love Nyota.

The ride is quiet, the passengers still drowsy from the previous night's revelry. They almost don't notice the wistful expression in their First Officer's eyes, how his demeanor seems to soften. The Chief Engineer had some questions for Spock that she intended to ask him during this ride, but she can't quite bring herself to interrupt the tranquility that's settled over Spock's shoulders. They pass the trip in silence.


Spock would have really liked to spend his evening in his quarters with a book, but was practically ordered by Captain Pike to join him for an evening out. He walks up to the bar like a criminal escorted to his fate, flanked by the Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Commander Rollins, and Chief Medical Officer, Doctor Puri, lead by Captain Pike.

It is the same bar at which Captain Pike discovered James T. Kirk in the infamous bar brawl that resulted in the cadet's admission to Starfleet Academy. It is a story repeated endlessly in the Academy, and one that Spock suspects will be repeated for many years after Cadet Kirk's graduation.

Unlike most of Starfleet Academy, Spock himself is not overly concerned with Cadet Kirk, except for one minor annoyance—he attempted the Kobayashi Maru simulation in his first year, failed spectacularly, and then requested to take it again as soon as they would allow him. This would not be much of a problem, except that when he checked the roster for his simulation he noted that Cadet Uhura was among the only two cadets he requested to join him in the simulation twice.

This could be explained easily by the fact that Cadet Uhura is an exceptional student—anyone would be lucky to have her to participate in their simulation group—but the information resurfaces unwanted as they sit down with their drinks (Spock forcibly handed a glass of whiskey), and Captain Pike says, "I remember now! Where I heard the name Cadet Uhura before, and why she looked so familiar."

Her name catches Spock's ears and he is instantly attentive.

"She was here that night. Not under my watch, but she was in a group of fresh recruits touring the site that day. This was back when they were still building the body, and you were up there." Pike points to the ceiling in a gesture that Spock assumes refers to his time as Lieutenant on-board his last ship. Pike laughs at the recollection, shaking his head. "She was right in the middle of the scuffle. Delivered a blow or two herself, from what I read in the incident report later."

This does not surprise Spock, given Cadet Uhura's quick temper. He gingerly sips his whiskey, trying not to betray his distaste at the cloying flavor. He never did develop a taste for most Terran liquor—it neither intoxicates him nor appeals to his palette.

"Oh yeah, she was under my watch," the Chief engineer says, pulling a slim cigar from the breast pocket of her jacket, biting off the end and spitting it into an ashtray she picked up from the center of the table.

"I do not believe you are permitted to partake in tobacco-related products indoors," Spock points out politely as she pulls out a lighter.

Rollins places the ashtray before her and laughs, the cigar held in her teeth. "This is the Iowan countryside, Commander, not the Academy mess hall." She lights the cigar and takes a few puffs, before pointing it towards another corner of the room, where a group of men are gathered over a game of poker, all smoking fat cigars.

Spock falls silent and traces his finger around the rim of his neat whiskey.

"You don't get out much, do you Commander?" Puri says with a smirk, sipping a cloudy Andorian beverage.

"Not often."

"Anyway, like I was saying," Rollins says, waving the cigar closer to Spock's face than he would like, "That whole group was with me."

"You were here? Small world." Pike raises his eyebrows.

"Well not here here. I wasn't feeling well so I was sleeping. Let me tell you, I never let them out alone again." She shakes her head and calls over one of the staff to order another whiskey and coke.

"You left me to clean up the mess," Pike says, eliciting a round of laughter from the other two. "What was the fight all about, anyway?"

"Your boy was making some unwanted advances at Miss Uhura."

Pike sighs and pinches his forehead. "That sounds like him."

Spock's fingers tighten around his glass. "Advances?" he asks coolly, keeping his eyes on the table.

The three officers exchange grins before Rollins says, "Yeah, you know—tried to start a conversation she wanted no part of. Happens at bars, from time to time."

"Careful, Rollins, this might be Spock's first time at a bar." Puri winks.

"It is not." Spock takes another sip to avoid meeting his companions' gazes.

"Anyway, how do you know Cadet Uhura? I saw you two talking for a while at your promotion ceremony," Puri asks, trying to give Spock a brief respite from their teasing.

"She is a former student," Spock says at the same time as Captain Pike says, "She's Spock's girlfriend."

Both Rollins and Puri raise their eyebrows, Rollins' cigar falling slack in her mouth. Pike looks at Spock with a flash of amusement. "No need to be shy, Spock. There are no secrets in the crew. We've got five years for everything to surface."

"She is not… my girlfriend."

Puri takes a long sip of his drink in an attempt to conceal the look he is exchanging with Lieutenant Commander Rollins, who doesn't even try to hide her bafflement.

"I just assumed—" Pike begins, but Spock cuts him off quickly.

"Vulcans do not lie. That is not the nature of my relationship with Cadet Uhura." Finally deeming this entire outing to be an uncomfortable and unnecessary use of his time, he finishes the rest of his drink in a single gulp and stands up. "Thank you for the drink, Captain, but I would prefer to return to my quarters. Excuse me."

Spock doesn't wait for any further remarks on his personal life, and instead pushes between the close tables and walks out into the night.

"Spock!" A few paces from the bar, Spock turns to find Captain Pike pursuing him down the sidewalk. He stops.

"Can I help you, Captain?" he says, turning to face Pike's approaching figure.

Captain Pike places his hands on his hips and sighs. "Come on, son. Let's sit for a minute."

Spock looks around. "There doesn't appear to be any appropriate seating."

Pike sits on the curb, his legs stretching into the desolate country road. He pats the ground beside him.

Spock hesitantly lowers himself to sit beside him, feeling slightly absurd with his legs straight out in front of him. Any passing traffic would drive right over his shins, but the street remains as black and empty as ever. In the distance he sees the glow of the Enterprise's construction site blooming in the night.

"You know, usually I have the opposite problem with my younger officers. Rollins for instance…" Pike laughs and shakes his head. "So have you figured out the game yet?"

Spock laces his fingers together in his lap. "I was not aware we were playing a game."

"Do you think I take such an interest in teasing every officer about their personal life?" Pike winks. "I'm doing it intentionally."

"I do not understand the purpose of this exercise."

"You designed one of the most morally and emotionally complex simulations in the Academy curriculum—a requirement for anyone who wants to be a starship captain—and you can't figure out that I'm trying to provoke you? You're going to be in command, Spock. I need to know that I can count on you no matter what."

Spock looks at the ground sheepishly. "I apologize for not being more perceptive. As we have never served together, I did not know how you typically behaved with fellow officers on your ship."

"Everyone has their weaknesses, Spock. Yours aren't unsurmountable. Just… lighten up a little." Pike gives Spock's shoulder a firm squeeze. "You have to learn to roll with the punches. People are going to press your buttons, friend and foe alike—even buttons you didn't know you had."

Spock nods. "I will strive to be more adaptable."

"Don't worry. You'll be a great First Officer. The best in the 'Fleet. Mark my words."

"Thank you, Sir."

Pike looks out towards the Enterprise—the distant premonition of their future together. "She's really got you all wound up, huh?"

"Pardon?"

"Cadet Uhura. You're touchy about her."

Spock is silent a moment before saying, "Is this another 'game'?"

Pike laughs. "No, honestly. As your captain, and your friend. You really like her."

"It seems that I have been, to borrow your metaphor, discovering buttons I did not know I have."

Pike stands up and brushes off his pants. "Good. You'll be better for it." He offers Spock his hand, and Spock takes it, despite not being in need of any assistance. "I'm going back in there, but you can go on home if you'd like. Something tells me you don't have much of a taste for alcohol."

"Not particularly." They stand facing each other a moment and Spock clasps his hands behind his back. "Thank you, Captain. I am certain that serving under you will be a rewarding experience."

Pike grins and tilts his head. "Get some rest, Commander. Tomorrow's another day. And you know…" He begins walking backwards towards the bar with his hands in his pockets. "If she's not your girlfriend yet, you should really get to fixing that. Might make your life easier."

"I will take that into consideration. Good night, Captain."


Spock does take it into consideration. He considers it in every spare moment—how to convey his feelings to Cadet Uhura and then ask after her feelings in return. The crew has begun to recognize the steady, calculating gaze on his face when he does.

While Captain Pike has more or less ceased commenting on the matter, Rollins and Puri have turned it into somewhat of an inside joke, always interrupting his thoughts with some quip like, "You thinking about your 'not-girlfriend', Commander?" or "What do you think that 'non-girlfriend' of yours doing right now?" and then laughing before Spock can even attempt a response. He has been taking Captain Pike's advice and allowing such comments to pass without reaction. He is beginning to get accustomed to the friendly harassment unique to this crew—younger and more boisterous than his last, with insight into his personal life that he has never before allowed any shipmate.

If nothing else, the next five years are sure to be anything but dull.

By the end of their twelve-day stay, Spock still does not have an adequate strategy for pursuing Cadet Uhura, never having attempted anything of the sort. He had done some research and come up with such varying results, he was left more confused than when he began his inquiries. He does not dare ask any of his Enterprise associates for counsel on the matter—the resulting harassment does not seem proportionate to any amount of advice they might be able to give.

As they settle into their air transport back to San Francisco, Spock turns on his comm and the communication function of his PADD. He has several missed calls from Cadet Uhura, but oddly, they are all time stamped between 0300 and 0400 that morning. Spock draws his eyebrows in and opens his messages on his PADD. The very first item is a long, alarming transmission from Cadet Uhura that makes Spock forgo returning to his quarters and book the first flight from San Francisco to a place he never expected he would visit—Wrigley's Pleasure Planet.