Hello all, thanks for stopping by. At 3700 words, this is my longest chapter to date, so I hope you enjoy. For all of you who are getting impatient about how GODDAMN SLOW this relationship is going, fear not...

something is afoot in this Chapter. I know, mysterious mysterious. I can't help myself.

Also, for those of you who don't know, a 'Secret Santa' is where a group of people each buy a present for a different person in the group, but nobody knows who bought who what, if you get my gist. Hopefully, it explains itself here.

This chapter is dedicated to YOU GUYS for coming back and putting up with me. Hope you enjoy, and as always, please review xx (i got like 25 reviews last time this is wild but pleeeaaasssee I read and treasure every review even the ones that just say 'nice chapter' like I love getting them) Also thank you v much to Becky and Erin, without whom this work would be 65% spelling mistakes and 35% incorrect grammar and lexical choices.

You can all find this story on Wattpad as well here - story/51347583-much-ado-about-vulcan-a-spock-oc-romance-novel

Christmas came quickly to Starfleet, and by the beginning of December, I could barely move for the amount of tinsel and decorations hanging from the ceilings and walls. The only classroom that I had noticed containing not a single decoration was, surprise surprise, Professor Spock's. His room was as drab and dreary as always, without a single sprig of holly to brighten the mood.

Much to everyone's surprise, though, he had begrudgingly agreed to take part in a class 'Secret Santa' (after a lot of persuasion). Each member of the maths class, including the teacher, put their names into a hat, which were drawn out randomly, one name for each person. That person then had to buy a Christmas present for their assigned person, and bring it in at the end of term, The name I picked out was Jacob Leonard, a quiet boy who sat at the back of the class, and occasionally beat me in the weekly tests that we were given. I bought him a small book of mind-puzzles and a green scarf, because he always seemed to be shivering. When Spock picked his allotted name out of the hat, he had looked at it with a mysterious expression that was a cross between amusement and irritation, and I smiled to myself. I doubted that he had any idea what to buy a student as a Christmas present. Knowing him, he would probably opt for a book on algebraic equations and a calculator.

The Monday after my unexpected rescue from the clutches of a particularly handsy student, I had expected him to confront me and to discuss what had happened, but on the contrary, he had only given me a small nod of recognition at the beginning of my Maths lesson, and had said nothing. I was sure that I hadn't imagined the moment in the car, when he had looked at me like there was nothing that he would rather do than take my hand and never let go, but he seemed adamant to forget it. After the lesson, I had approached him at his desk, bag slung over my shoulder, my hair scraped back into a tight bun, and thanked him.

"What for, Cadet?"

"What for?" I scoffed, "for saving my ass on Saturday night. If it wasn't for you, who knows what would have happened?"

He refused to make eye contact with me, instead looking directly at the papers on his desk, which were certainly not interesting enough to hold his full attention.

"Ah yes. Well, Cadet, you're welcome. I would have done the same for any of my students."

I nodded, and hoisted the bag slightly higher up on my shoulder, and turned to go. Just before I reached the door, however, I turned back again, surprised to see his eyes, not on his desk, but directly on me.

"Just out of curiosity, Sir, what happened to Matthew Jacobson?"

Either it was all in my imagination or he stiffened slightly at the mention of the man who had assaulted me.

"I had a firm discussion with his form tutor, Miss Birchwood. It turns out that this isn't the first time that he has harassed a female student. I believe that at this precise moment-" he glanced at his watch, "He is probably trying to worm his way out of a sexual harassment charge."

My eyes widened in surprise, and I nodded, satisfied with the outcome. If he had done this to other girls as well, not just me, something needed to be done.

"Is that all?" The Professor had asked, and I had given a silent nod, "Dismissed, Cadet."

And that was all that was said on the matter. The following Friday, I had attended my extra credit marking session, and it had gone much the same as the last one. We both stayed in silence for an hour, punctuated only by the Professor offering me a cup of tea, but declining to make one for himself, I noticed. Though he had tried it once, I don't think that he liked it very much, which made the fact that he continued to buy it for me all the more confusing. At five O'Clock, he had dismissed me with a very formal, "I will see you on Monday, Cadet."

My other studies were going great, surprisingly. Leonard McCoy, as always, was an excellent teacher, and my anatomy knowledge was at an all-time high. In the last six assessments that we had been set, I came top in four of them, and despite spending a great deal of my lectures discussing French politics with Pierre, in our November mock exam, I had achieved 187/200. In my Christmas Mock exams, I had passed every test, even maths, so I was entering the last week of term with slightly more spring in my step than many other students who had not done as well.

When the final lesson on the Final Friday of term came, I was more than ready to go home. I had booked a plane ticket to London for later on that day, desperate to get home and see my parents and brother. I entered maths with a grin on my face, excited to be flying home in under five hours.

Sat on Professor Spock's desk was a large cardboard box with 'Secret Santa' scribbled on it in black sharpie marker. Very festive. I walked up to it and inconspicuously dropped my gift for Jacob, wrapped neatly in blue and silver wrapping paper, into the box, which was already almost full. I took my seat and glanced to my side. Sure enough, Jackie was sat there, a shit-eating grin on her face.

"It's nearly Christmas!" She almost sang at me as I sat down, to which I responded with a hearty laugh.

"It certainly is. Who did you get for Secret Santa?" I asked, but she tapped her nose mysteriously and didn't answer. I wondered for a second if she had chosen my name, as she was so unwilling to reveal the person she had bought a present for.

The last few students trickled into the class, dropping their presents off in the decidedly un-festive box on Professor Spock's desk, whilst he watched them, almost with distain. Once everyone had taken their seats, he stood up, and walked towards the large interactive whiteboard, picking up an electronic pen and beginning to write.

"Trigonometry is a topic which encompasses every aspect of math."

"Sir?" A voice perked up. Spock stopped mid-sentence and glared at the back of the classroom, shocked at having been interrupted.

"Yes, Cadet Lewis?"

"Well…" A tall handsome boy began, a glint in his eye, "I thought that we were doing a Secret Santa, Sir. Can we not give the presents out first?"

Spock nailed the boy with a look that could have frozen lava, and he stopped talking immediately. If he assumed that, just because it was Christmas, we would have an easy last lesson, he assumed very wrongly.

"At ten to four I will hand out your presents-"

A collective groan from the class, including me. That meant a whole hour and twenty minutes of work. So much for Christmas.

"-And not a second before," Spock continued, unfazed by the disappointment of his students.

"Now," he went back to the board, where he begun to draw a graph of sin/x, "Where were we? Ah yes, trigonometry."

I'm not ashamed to say that I zoned out completely after that, preferring to stare at the wasp that was slowly crawling across the condensed window-pane than at the front of the classroom, where the Professor was going through how to find the coefficient of x⁴. His voice droned on as he spoke, and I found myself looking at him, and not listening to his words. He had great posture, and stood incredibly straight, like someone had taped a stick to his back. I noticed a miniscule smudge of pencil just under his left jawline, where he must have rubbed his finger earlier, as well as a tiny freckle on his neck, just above the neckline of his blue Starfleet regulation Science Officer shirt.

I appeared to have been paying a little too much attention to his face, and not enough on what he was teaching, as an hour into the lesson, he looked at me expectantly, eyebrows raised.

"Pardon?" I sat up straight in my seat, embarrassed to have been caught staring, he gave a small quirk of his lip, that most people wouldn't have noticed but I took as a small sign of amusement, and pointed back to the board.

"I said, Miss Birchwood, if you're back with us now and not staring off into space, what is the value of cosπ?"

I looked at the graph on the board, and took a wild guess.

"Um… minus one, Sir?"

"Correct, Birchwood."

Well, that was a surprise.

He turned his back and continued to write on the board, "And if we have a minus one here-"

Once again, I stopped listening, instead watching the large clock at the front of the classroom slowly but surely tick tick tick its way to ten to four. Spock rounded off his lesson, advising everyone to keep up with their studying during the break, then took the large box of presents off his desk and begun to hand them out. He placed Jackie's on her table, a small cube wrapped in pink glittery wrapping appear, and she grinned at me before tearing it open, revealing four nail varnishes, each in a different shade of pink.

"Oh my god I love them," she gushed, before turning to me, "Thank you!"

I held my hand up in mock-surrender.

"Not me," I explained, and gestured behinds me to Jacob, who was avidly looking through his book on mind-puzzles, "I got Cadet Leonard."

She wrinkled her brow in confusion, and looked back at the nail varnishes.

"I was sure that you had me…" she muttered.

A cough came from behind me, and I jumped in surprise, my heart in my mouth, to see the Professor looming over me, holding out a rectangular shaped parcel.

"Thank, Sir." I said cheerfully, grabbing it from his hand, and accidentally grazing the backs of his fingers in the process. He visibly stiffened and took a small breath in, but quickly composed himself, nodded respectfully, walking to the front of the class, where he took out his own present and looked at it intently. I wondered for a second what had brought on such an intense reaction in him when it suddenly hit me.

Vulcan hands. Of course. I flushed crimson as I remembered a lecture that I had had with Professor Sh'kaah a few weeks earlier. Vulcan hands were one of the most sensitive parts of the body, and any hand to hand contact was seen as incredibly intimate. My face got redder as I comprehended what had just happened. In Vulcan terms, I had basically just frenched the guy.

"Alex, what's your present?" Asked Jackie, completely unaware of the inner turmoil that I was going through. I looked down at my package, trying to take my mind off my embarrassment.

It was incredibly neatly wrapped, in a wrapping paper that was bright yellow and covered with pictures of cartoon sprouts with party hats on. A tag fell from one corner, with my name, 'Alex' written in beautiful cursive. Instinctively, I glanced upwards to the Professor, who had just finished unwrapping his gift. I let out a guffaw of laughter as I realised that it was a pair of fake novelty glasses, complete with plastic nose and moustache.

He noticed my glance, and held the glasses up to me, a question on his face that seemed to say, 'These from you, Birchwood?'

I shook my head, holding back a giggle, and went to unwrapping my present.

I peeled off the wrapping paper with care, making sure not to rip it. When it had all been removed, I was left with a blank unmarked cardboard box. I stuck my nail in the corner, prising it open, and pulled out a small object.

An alarm clock.

There was only one person that this could possibly be from.

My gaze darted towards the Professor, whose eyes were trained on me, but looked down as soon as he saw me looking, something that could very almost be described as a smirk on his usually stoic face. I couldn't believe it. A Vulcan with a sense of humour, that was unexpected.

I turned the small clock over in my hands, and noticed a small note stuck to the back with tape, in the same elegant cursive as my name tag.

'Now you have no excuse for being late.'

A fully fledged grin spread across my face as I snorted to myself. A sassy Vulcan with a sense of humour.

"Class," The voice brought me out of my revere, and the Professor stood at the front of the class, the novelty glasses still in his hand. A few students noticed them and choked back giggles.

"I trust that you will all have a pleasant Christmas, and a Happy New Year, and I hope to see you all well and back here next term, ready to learn."

A varying chorus of 'Bye, Sir.', 'Happy Christmas, Sir,' and one 'Nice Glasses, Sir', filled the room as the students filed out one by one, excited to be on holiday. A pressure tugged on my shoulder, and I looked up to see Jackie looking at me expectantly.

"You walking to the bus stop?"

I shook my head, "Sorry, Jackie,"

She nodded in understanding, "Got your extra credit thing, huh?" she asked, gesturing to the Professor, who had taken his seat behind his desk again, rearranging a stack of papers.

"Uh huh," I muttered, and she smiled at me, and patted me on the shoulder, "See you after Christmas, then!"

"You too," I answered back, and she walked out of the classroom, leaving the door open behind her.

I hoisted my heavy bag over my shoulder and walked towards the Professor, alarm clock in hand. He glanced up at me when I reached his desk, and noticed the object that I was holding. There was that strange half-smile again.

"Nice glasses." I said, and he held them up, studying them.

"The complexity of human pranks escapes me, I'm afraid, Cadet." He said honestly, and I smirked and shook my head, before gesturing to the large pile of papers on his desk with my eyes.

"Need a hand with those?"

He looked confused.

"Are you sure, Cadet? I'll give you the day off if you want, it is Christmas, after all."

"Nah, don't worry about it," I shook his concern off with a wave of my hand, before grabbing a substantial pile of papers from the desk, "Isn't the spirit of Christmas supposed to be about helping people anyway?"

He considered my answer, and nodded, seemingly content with it.

"Yes, Cadet. I suppose that it is."

And with that he picked up the remaining pile of papers and walked out of the room, switching the light off with his elbow. I followed him, closing the door with my hip as I exited, and almost jogged to catch up with him as he walked to his office, not too far from his classroom.

"So?" I asked brightly, "Doing anything nice for Christmas?"

"My mother is coming to Earth."

His response surprised me, and I walked in silence for a few seconds, until we reached his office and he opened the door with a scan of his ID card, holding it open for me as I walked inside.

"That's lovely," I finally managed to say. I couldn't imagine his mother, a human. He seemed so Vulcan, it was hard to imagine that there was any red blood mixed in with the green at all.

"Are you?" He asked me as he placed his stack of papers on his large wooden desk, and I followed suit.

"Am I what, sorry?"

"Doing anything nice for Christmas?"

"Ah." I understood, "I'm going back to London this evening," I said, smiling, "Get to finally see my arsehole brother again. It's been four months."

He took a seat, and gestured for me to close the door, which I did, before sitting opposite him and taking my red pen out of my satchel.

"Then I wish you a pleasant trip."

Very formal. Very impersonal. He didn't seem to be dwelling on our earlier finger-touch, so I decided to let it go. Obviously it wasn't bothering him as much as it was me.

He placed a stack of papers in front of me, and I picked up the first one, looking at it with surprise.

"Differentiation?" I asked. Usually, he gave me the easier papers to mark, the papers from the first or second years, but differentiation was a fourth year topic.

"I thought that it would do you good to be challenged, Birchwood." He said simply, and I nodded my head.

"Fair enough."

I took the lid off my pen, and began to mark, as usual in complete silence. The students were clever, most of them getting the answers correct. It made a pleasant change from usual, when I would struggle to find one or two marks amidst a barrage of wrong answers.

After half an hour, as always, Spock would get up from his seat after having marked a good deal more papers than me, and make me a cup of tea. He knew now exactly how to do it, milk no sugar, and he placed it in front of me with a small flourish. I took a sip and the hot liquid scalded my throat, but it was good.

I gave him a thumbs up.

"Good tea, Sir. If you keep going like this, you'll practically be British by the end of this year. Oh, and that reminds me…"

I reached into my satchel, rooting around until I found what I was looking for, a smooth clear globe. I pulled it out and placed it on the desk. It was a snow globe, the white flakes inside it still whirling from its shake-up inside my bag. In the centre of the mini blizzard was a scaled down replica of a red London Bus. Spock looked at it in confusion.

"What… what is that?" he asked.

"It's for you," I said, slightly embarrassed, "To make your office a little bit more festive. You can use it as a paperweight if you want to."

He picked it up, weighing the smooth glass in his hands, before looking at me, and giving me the closest that I had ever seen him smile. No more than a twitch, really, but to me it was obvious. He was very, very happy.

"Thank you very much, Cadet." He said, placing the globe in front of him on the desk, and watching the tiny white flakes as they began to settle, "That was very considerate of you."

"No problem, Sir." I smiled, secretly thrilled with his reaction. I had not known how he would react, if he would be offended, indifferent or something else, but this was definitely better than I had anticipated.

I continued my work, my pen flying across the paper. Occasionally I looked up at him, and once or twice, I noticed that he was looking at me, too. When the clock finally reached five O'Clock, he placed down his pen and let out a short sigh.

"Well, that's your time done, Cadet," he said to me, getting up and walking to the door, opening it.

I packed my pen away in my satchel and stood up, scraping my chair on the floor as I did so. I walked towards the door, but for some reason, suddenly stopped when I reached it, looking up into the Professor's face. He was as surprised as I was at my actions, but instead of stepping backwards, as I had expected, he leaned slightly forwards into me. My heart began to thump as he took a step forwards, until the toes of his boots were touching the toes of mine. He was looking at me with an intensity that surprised me, but I held my ground, refusing to move, refusing to back down. Almost in slow-motion, his hand rose from his side, and he brushed a single strand of hair away from my face, and tucked it behind my ear, the pads of his fingers soft as they grazed the sensitive skin of my neck. His face was so close to mine that I could feel his breath on my lips, and see the dark, enlarged pupils of his eyes.

"Alex…." He muttered, almost to himself, and my heart somersaulted in my chest at the word. Not Cadet, not Miss Birchwood.

Alex.

I leaned slightly forwards, the scent of his aftershave, pine and smoke, heavy in my nostrils. His hand was still by the side of my face, still cupping my chin, and the heat from his fingers melted into me, making my knees go weak.

All of a sudden, his eyes darkened, and he took a step back, snatching his hand down with an almost angry force. He was breathing heavily, as was I, and despite nothing happening, I couldn't help but feel like everything had changed.

He placed his hands behind his back in a formal manner, and gave me a respectful nod.

"Have a good Christmas, Cadet. Dismissed."

Dismissed? He was going to dismiss me after that? I could hardly believe it, but forced myself to stand at attention, give a nod of acceptance, and say, "You too, Sir. See you in the New Year." before walking out of the office and hearing the door shut firmly behind me.

I leant against the door, trying desperately to get my breath back, but to no avail. What the hell had just happened?

I couldn't pass that off as nothing, and as I walked down the empty hallways, littered with Christmas decorations in comparison to the sparse emptiness of the room that I had just been in, I wasn't sure that I wanted to.

THERE WE GO I HOPE YOU ENJOYED (she's off to England now, leaving Spock to contemplate his life choices)

Please review (even if you want to shout at me because Spock is being an absolute wanker) I'll appreciate it x Also if you have any questions about the story, please PM me and I'll try my best to answer them, even if it's just 'HURRY THIS ROMANCE THE HELL UP' (I'm sorry I'm always a sucker for slow-burn)