Spock was not often in the company of his beloved in the days that followed the Council's decision. She was occupied with apprising her uncle's staff of her the progress her students had made in the time she had been teaching them on her own, while continuing to design and teach several of the classes; and, although he did not have any official duties while he was assigned to remain on the surface, he took advantage of the unexpected opportunity and consulted with the handful of survivors who were tasked with reinstating the Vulcan Science Academy. Although the feeling was unVulcan-like, he acknowledged that he was gratified to see that they benefited from his counsel. But even that was not enough to stop him wishing that he had more time with Nyota.
Reminders of her came at unexpected times and from unexpected sources. During a conversation with one of the Science Academy he remarked on a new course on post-apocalyptic societal response and rehabilitation theory that struck him as decidedly unVulcan.
.
"The course has its origins in a study published by a Terran xenopsychiatrist," Zydek explained. "Dr. Benjamin Uhura is well known for having produced several such papers over the past twenty-five years. I believe you are acquainted with him. Our new Communications Minister is the younger brother his adun'a and your shipmate is their daughter." Spock read the unspoken "as well your mate" in the dean's averted eyes.
"Indeed, it was through your t'dahsu and your father that we first became aware of his work," Zydek continued, displaying what almost passed for enthusiasm in a Vulcan. "We have found that even by Vulcan standards, Dr. Uhura has proven sufficiently logical in his analyses. It is a wonder that he chose xenopsychiatry as his primary field of concentration. He would have made an adequate sociologist or anthropologist."
Spock nodded. "I have met Dr. Uhura on several occasions, and find your assessment of his capabilities to be accurate," he said. "However, I have also found him to be a man whose interest in understanding the minds of those alien to him to encompasses a broader spectrum than his fellows in his field. He already is, in my estimation, an anthropologist and a sociologist."
.
They rarely shared meals — she had taken to joining her fellow instructors when breaking her fast, and evening meals were usually spent with her uncle. Aside from a midday meal one day and a few late night snacks in her quarters, he had been denied the pleasure of seeing her face across a table.
It was only at night, within the confines of her narrow bed, his arms holding her cool body captive, that he felt she was fully with him. They were a gift, he knew, these times lying next to her, listening to her breathe while she slept.
He did not question why she had allowed him to follow her to the small room that first night, or why she continued to let him find his rest there. They never discussed it, although both were aware that he would have been welcome in either his father's or his t'dahsu's home.
Neither said anything about what they were doing; neither wanted anything to mar however much time they had left together.
But the first morning had been difficult.
.
She had stirred against him, only awake enough to brush her lips against the column of his throat. He had stilled without stiffening his body, not wishing her to wake and retreat. As smoothly and evenly as he could manage, he had pulled her closer, ghosting a hand beneath her sleep shirt to stroke the smooth skin of her back.
Listening to her sigh, and feeling her content through their link, he had longed to ignite the passion he could sense pooling just beneath its surface. It had been a long time since her lips had moved against his in desire. It had been too long since he had been enveloped in her warm, wet heat. Heat even the Vulcan in him could sense.
She had smiled against his neck and pressed her hips into his. "That's unfair, Spock." Her soft murmur had been amused, and she had shifted, teasing his growing erection. But in other moments like these, ones he feared they might never repeat, she had called him k'diwa. He had never been "Spock" during love play.
The omission had been deliberate. Her need to distance herself had translated clearly through the link.
"It is less unfair than what you are doing, beloved," he had responded without attempting to hide the annoyance he still felt over the revelations from the day before. "You offer what you have no intention of giving. You do not say all that you mean, just as you have hidden truths that you should have shared."
At that she had been the one to stiffen. "You know something of hiding truths, Spock," she had told him.
He had known she was referring to the two years he had waited before telling her that he would eventually be joining the colony, leaving her, their relationship, behind. Shame over the hurt he had caused her had blended with his current annoyance and frustration into something resembling anger. That had flowed through the link as well, but she had not moved out of his arms.
They both had risen in time for her to prepare for her day of teaching teachers and handing over students. Neither had mentioned what had transpired in the early hours of the morning. Neither of them had wanted to mar what little time they might have left together.
.
He had not lied about his reason for declining to join her encounter with the presence, but he was still afraid for her to go without him. Even if she became bonded into the S'chn T'gai family, he mused, it might not be enough to ensure they remained aware of her condition during the meeting. Familial bonds were not as intense as those that existed between mates.
But his ongoing internal conflicts made it impossible for him to offer her anything more. Had holding her every night, burning the memory of her into his flesh, not proved to be a sufficient bolster to his faltering resolve, guilt over that knowledge might have been his undoing.
"I'm scared, Spock," she admitted three days after she'd first slept in her new quarters. "I mean, I don't really think that anything bad is going to happen, but I'm afraid that if it does… I don't want him to be alone. I'm not sure what will happen to him if… ."
Uhura wasn't pleased with her behavior for the past few days. She was one of the best communications officers in Starfleet, able to keep her cool, take in and disseminate vital information in any number of dire situations. Among the men of S'chn T'gai, she'd lately seemed incapable of completing her sentences on a regular basis.
The ambassador folded her hands into his larger ones. She had known as soon as she had received the invitation to lunch in his home that he'd suspected her need to talk to someone other than her uncle, and had gratefully accepted. The meal was over, but there was no pressing need for her to return to the Hall of Welcome or to the training facility.
"He is stronger than you give him credit for, Nyota," he said, but his tone, almost devoid of Vulcan stoicism, was less than reassuring. "More importantly, he has many here who would support him if you were lost to him."
She basked in the comfort that poured through the link, if not his words, and squeezed his hand. Not bothering to hide her doubts, she looked into the eyes of her love's t'dahsu.
"I want you to do something for me," she said, her voice grave. Spock's answering squeeze boosted her courage. "If anything happens to me, or even if it doesn't, I want you to suggest that he spend time with T'Dun."
When he opened his mouth to respond, she cut him off. "I know right now he's not in the best state of mind to listen to anyone playing match-maker — not now that we know about T'Pau — but I think T'Dun, or someone like her — if such a woman exists — would be the best choice for him. She's the closest thing I have to a woman friend here, Spock. And she accepts me for who I am and as what I am. She doesn't think humans are inferior, either. She might be able to give him what he needs if he can't find that with me."
Spock was quiet for a time, but he did not shield his emotions from her as he weighed what she had to say. So she was unsurprised when he pulled her close to him and let go of her hand to wrap his arms around her.
"Perhaps," he murmured into her hair, "I should consider this paragon as a potential wife for myself."
Uhura pulled back enough to reach up and hold the ambassador's face in her hands. She rose up on her toes and placed a soft, almost chaste kiss against his gorgeous mouth.
"Oh, Spock," she said, smiling. "I couldn't let her have, you, too."
They both laughed quietly at her small joke, and then Spock tightened the embrace once again.
"I will watch out for him," he promised her.
.
.
Spock felt the tension begin to seep out of her slender form, but the link also told him that another disturbance still plagued her.
"I'm still so pissed with him," she said before he could question her. She did not move her head from his chest. "I want him there with me. I know that makes me sound weak, though I'm not — you know I'm not, but knowing that doesn't stop me wanting it. It makes me so angry that he won't go. Especially since it's probably because he's still afraid to bond with me. Just like you can't risk it, he won't risk it. Even though I know it's what he really wants."
He did not contradict her, although he suspected the situation was more complicated than she reasoned it to be. His t'dahsu was afraid to bond with her, he knew, but more than that was keeping him from initiating a deeper meld with his k'diwa. Spock had no wish to reopen fresh wounds by reminding her that his young counterpart remained hesitant to trust the genesis of their relationship.
"I will not tell you to hold back you anger, Nyota," he told her. "He is holding fast to logic to the detriment of both his and your own well-being. He deserves your love. But, as I told him, do not let this cloud your reason. I still believe you belong with him, and he with you. It is clear that you believe this as well. Do not give up on him yet."
Sarek had not expected T'Pau's capitulation to come so easily, but was grateful and filed away his questions for a later time. He had already lost three days of preparation and did not wish to lose any more. Even though she had long been linked to Spock, he wanted Nyota to have time to become accustomed to the family bond.
He summoned his sons, the Minister of Communications and the human man's niece to his house for the evening meal. None of them, he knew, would be put out once they ascertained the purpose of the meeting.
When all were assembled at his dining table, but before the any of the fragrant dishes had been uncovered, he made his announcement.
"Tonight, we will join S'chn T'gai to Wakufunzi and Uhura," he said. His eyes settled on the woman his son had loved across two universes. "Ko-fu, T'Pau has given her approval."
.
.
Uhura had expected an elaborate ceremony, something like the wedding ceremony the elder Spock had shown her once during a mild mind touch. Instead, there was just a meld with Sarek — deeper than anything she'd ever experienced with either Spock, but at the same time somehow not nearly as intimate.
It was over in minutes, and immediately after she could feel a new sense of belonging surrounding her, moving through her.
She was aware of Sarek, and his affection for her, in a way she had been unable to comprehend before.
She found herself wondering how Spock had not known he had his father's love and always had. But then she found the elder Spock in the bond — his own regard for her, while pale in comparison to what he had shown her of his love of his own Nyota, was like a soothing blanket able to block out the harshness of the world beyond — and, distracted, she brushed away the thought, deciding that the bond was too deeply embedded in her k'diwa for him to recognize the nuances of his father's feelings towards him.
Last, there was her Spock. And he was undeniably her Spock, now.
She knew the moment he became aware of the change in their link. He felt it strengthen as she did. She told herself it was not dismay she saw in his eyes as the familial bond resolved itself into something entirely different between the two of them.
A/N: Eeek! This is up hours later than I intended, but it's got everything I wanted to say and then some. Yay me! At this rate, I might actually be able to have a guilt free b-day.
Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em, but at this point, I really, really wish I did!
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em.