Author's Note: Chapter 36 is the continuation of a storyline that began with Chapter 28. Occurring during Uhura's second year as a Starfleet cadet, this chapter involves Uhura, Spock, McCoy and Nurse Christine Chapel.
Regarding Nurse Chapel: The author freely admits the only thing her version of the Nurse has in common with the television and film versions is the name and her attraction to Spock. When including her in this story, the writer has kept in mind someone more resembling a mid-30's Helen Mirren, rather than Majel Barrett. Please keep an open mind.
Protected by visors, Spock witnessed a gamma ray experiment conducted by one of his research teams. Upon the conclusion of the trial, the team members applauded elated over the results. However, they took on a more somber look, while waiting anxiously as they watched the Vulcan review the data.
"As you can see, Mr. Spock, we've been able to duplicate these findings over ten times with no major deviations in the results." Team Leader Ensign Peja Slovich contended. "With the right funding from the Federation Science Foundation, we should be able to move into Phase III of the experiment by the fall, sir."
"Any proposal to the Foundation would first require my recommendation, Ensign." Spock replied.
"Yes, of course, sir. But surely there's no question of the experiment's value. The application could mean the most significant breakthrough in irradiation in over two hundred years."
Spock turned directly to the young officer. "Ensign Slovich, you need not lecture me on the potential of this research. However, I assumed you were aware sound scientific inquiry cannot be rushed."
"Of course, sir." The young man knew it would be futile to press the matter. For the sake of the thousands of hours his team had already spent on the project, he needed not to displease the Head of Scientific Research at the Academy.
"I will return to my office for a more detailed review of your data." Now taking in the entire team into his view, the Vulcan noted their concerned faces. "I would not make plans for a celebration, yet; however, I must say the project looks quite promising."
"Thank you, Mr. Spock." Several of the team members stated, while others cautiously allowed smiles to appear.
Spock walked back to his office enjoying the unusually hot San Francisco spring day. Under his leadership, most of the scientific research teams were making extraordinary progress. While overall they still were not on par with the Vulcan Scientific Academy, there were several projects – including the one headed by Slovich – which under any objective standard would be considered second to none. Freed from coursework during the summer term, the immersion into these research endeavors served to challenge and invigorate his intellect. And, this summer these activities also functioned to keep his mind off of her.
Six weeks had now passed since he stood outside of Uhura's hospital room. A voyeur . . . watching as Cadet James T. Kirk held her in his arms and comforted her . . . a comfort . . . the Vulcan was sure he knew not how to give. No envy or jealousy visited him . . . only a sense of inadequacy . . . an inability to meet her emotional needs . . . needs that were an inherent part of what it meant to be human.
His mother, Amanda, allowed him to make the choice of his identity and Spock made the only one logically possible for someone born and raised on his father's home world . . . I am Vulcan. Yet, he saw how this race of people that professed no racial biases would not hesitate to make slights against his mother despite her renowned scholarship and marriage within a prominent Vulcan family. Such affronts to his mother enraged him, still . . . they also served to convince him he could not adopt her ways. To show affection . . . touch . . . comfort . . . these actions portrayed a human weakness he could not emulate and show himself . . . his father . . . his people . . . that he was truly one of them.
As Spock approached his office, he recognized a familiar face standing nearby – Dr. Leonard McCoy. In the previous semester, he proved himself a gifted student in the Vulcan's ethics class as the doctor showed himself willing to match wits with his instructor. McCoy's presence reminded Spock the doctor had also served as the attending physician the night of Cadet Leveque's attempted rape of Uhura.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Spock." The doctor greeted him.
"What brings you here, Dr. McCoy?" He asked as they entered his office
"I would appreciate a word with you, sir."
"Unfortunately, your visit is ill-timed. There are a number of matters related to my position which demand my attention."
"It's important, sir."
"While I served as one of your instructors last semester, I am not in the biomedical field. It would probably be more appropriate for you to speak with Dr. Shakir about such matters."
"It's personal, sir."
"Counseling is also not my forte."
"With all due respect, sir, I'm not here to ask your advice. I need a favor from you to benefit someone of mutual interest to the both of us."
"And who may that be, doctor?
"Uhura, sir."
"What gives you the impression she is of mutual interest?"
"I saw you, sir." McCoy stated unwavering in his resolve. "I saw you standing outside her hospital room the night that bastard attacked Uhura."
"Upon Captain Pike's request, I assisted him with the investigation of the incident involving Cadets Leveque and Uhura. When you saw me at her door, I was checking on her condition. After all, her statement was still necessary to complete the report."
"You weren't present when she gave her account later that morning. Lieutenant Rebecca Miller accompanied the Captain."
"After over 12 years amongst humans of both sexes, I have come to learn there are certain matters females would feel more inclined to speak freely about in the presence of another woman. When I expressed this opinion to the Captain, he concurred and the Lieutenant became available for that purpose."
"Come on, Mr. Spock. Maybe that was the line you gave to Captain Pike, but you weren't outside Uhura's room thinking about the optimal conditions for her to provide her testimony. I could sense something else going on there."
"Doctor, I had no knowledge of your Betazoid ancestry. Is being an empath one of your many talents?"
Unintimidated by the Vulcan's rank or the consequences, McCoy closed the gap between the two so they were only inches apart. "Are you going to help her or not?"
When Spock gave no response, McCoy cursed, "Damn it." As he turned and started to move toward the door to exit, he unexpectedly heard his name.
"Doctor, how is she? How has she been since the incident?"
McCoy turned back to him and noted the Vulcan's indifferent face betrayed by the discomfort of his stiff posture and hands clasped behind his back. Such an assessment would have eluded most humans; however, the doctor had studied xenophysiology and xenopsychology including Vulcan biosystems and behavior.
"To most of her friends, she appears back to normal."
"Is not a sense of normalcy a good indicator of her recovery?"
"Most see what they want to see and Uhura's smart enough to give them just enough not to question her state of mind."
"But you seem to think otherwise."
"I am a psychologist as well as a physician and I see the symptoms . . . a lack of appetite, drive, and an inability to focus on anything very long. She gets by. That's all. She just exists."
Spock moved away to his office window. His eyes scanned across campus searching in vain . . . suddenly needing to see her for himself.
"That's not the Uhura I know." McCoy continued. "That girl had a great zeal for life and deep compassion for all who she touched. I want that Uhura to come back to us. The one that monster snatched away."
"It was my understanding a therapy had been recommended for her."
"Since Starfleet privatized the mental health department in an effort to save a few credits, the unit has not been very effective in addressing these concerns. Most of the staff members mean well, but that's not good enough. They're very young, inexperienced and have twice the workload they can handle. I doubt if her therapist could even recall Uhura's name with her file right before her."
Spock turned back to McCoy. "What can I do to be of service?"
"So now you admit you care?"
"As a former student of mine the Cadet showed great promise as a Starfleet officer. If that potential is now in jeopardy of being diminished, then I would be derelict in my duties as an Academy instructor and Starfleet officer not to intervene if in my power to do so."
"Spoken like a true Vulcan." McCoy smirked.
"Thank you." Spock retorted, although aware the doctor did not mean the statement as a compliment. "What can I do to assist Ms. Uhura?"
"Uhura needs an experienced therapist in the field of trauma therapy. The Starfleet Medical Corps allows for consultants with the proper authorization. I believe I can secure that approval. What I need form you is to convince the person I have in mind to take on the case. According to my research, she's one of the best nurse-therapists in the field and the clinic she runs in Boulder, Colorado has had great success with these types of cases. With her background as a former Starfleet Officer, I believe she would be the right candidate for this position."
"Doctor, if you know of this person, then why don't you contact her?"
"I already have and was turned down cold. Apparently, she left the service several years ago in protest over the privatization issue. She used quite colorful language to let me know what I could do with my request. However, sir, you may be able to convince her otherwise, since I believe you know her. From reading her bio, she served with you under Captain Pike's command during your last mission. Her name is Christine Chapel."
Christine. Spock had wondered what became of her. They had not been in contact since the day their ship docked after a five-year voyage.
"You do know her, sir, don't you?"
"Yes. I am acquainted with Nurse Chapel."
"Then you will speak with her."
"Nurse Chapel and I did not part on the best of terms."
"Then, you're telling me I've got to go to Plan B – that is, after I figure out what Plan B is."
"Doctor, please refrain from assuming you can read my mind. I am sure your xenological studies were worthwhile, but it is presumptuous for you to believe you are privy to my thoughts unless I explicitly share them with you."
The Vulcan's comments evoked a smile on McCoy's face. "Yes, sir."
"I will secure Nurse Chapel's services, but I must carefully consider my approach. Please excuse me, while I conduct some of my own research on this matter."
"Freedom to speak freely, sir."
His request caused Spock to raise an eyebrow. "If you have not already been doing so, I hesitate to grant that request. However, my curiosity seems to overcome my better judgment."
"I think you're all right, sir."
"I accept your compliment, if that is what you meant to convey." Certain McCoy was headed for the door, Spock sat before his computer console and began to search for information on Christine Chapel.
"One more thing, sir." McCoy surprisingly continued.
Not looking up from his screen, Spock reluctantly replied, "Yes, doctor."
"You should save that bullshit answer for somebody else."
"To which so-called bullshit answer are you referring?"
"You know, the one about doing all this for the good of the service. I remember the man standing outside Uhura's hospital room. And, he wasn't there with Starfleet on his mind."
Spock heard his office door closed and wondered, How did he know?
Coming out of her office while reviewing a patient chart on an iTablet, a tall blonde and thirty-something Christine Chapel told her assistant, "I want to switch Ms. Thompson to the 10 AM Thursday group session. Is there an opening at that time?"
"Yes, Nurse Chapel. I'll make the change right away." The woman noticeably lowered her voice. "And one other thing, ma'am, there's a gentleman here to see you."
"Does he have an appointment?"
"No. I told him it was required, but he said he traveled from San Francisco to see you in person."
"Well, I don't care if he traveled all the way from Andoria. He can return when he has followed proper procedures. Handing her iTablet to the woman. "I'm taking my lunch now. I'll be back in time for my -" Christine looked up and saw Spock in the waiting room. Dressed in civilian clothes, the tall Vulcan rose up from his seat as their eyes met.
Christine and Spock walked along the street with no destination in mind. No words exchanged between them until the nurse finally decided to take the first shot.
"You've got a hellava nerve coming to me."
"I am here on a matter of a professional nature."
"I do believe I've heard that line before." She commented with a biting tone.
Choosing to ignore her statement, Spock continued. "It is my understanding Dr. Leonard McCoy of Starfleet Academy contacted you."
"Yes. He told me about a trauma case stemming from an attempted rape."
"You refused to review the case."
"I've been in private practice for over two years. You know I'm no longer associated with Starfleet."
"You were being asked to serve as a consultant."
"What's wrong? Aren't those kids they hired straight out of school experienced enough to handle real cases?"
"I'm not here to argue the merits of the current Starfleet mental health system."
"Then why are you here, Spock?" Christine stopped and turned to him. "How are you involved in this case?"
"In researching your suitability for this matter, Dr. McCoy discovered the two of us had served under Captain Pike's command. When you turned down his initial request, he asked if I would intervene."
"You couldn't just pick up a communicator?"
"I reasoned you might be more receptive to the appeal if it were made in person."
Christine studied the Vulcan carefully, walking around his body as if inspecting him. "And what am I supposed to get out of it?"
"You will be paid according to your current fee schedule."
"Including transportation and per diem for food, lodging and incidentals."
"As expected. How soon do you believe you'll be able to come to San Francisco?"
"Not so fast, Spock. I didn't say I would do it. There are other considerations as well. I'll have to evaluate each of my current cases to ensure I will not impair their treatment by my absence."
"From appearances, you seem to have done quite well for yourself in the short period since you've left Starfleet - a staff of 16 professionals and support staff; clientele from throughout this quadrant of the galaxy; and numerous speaking engagements."
"There are some cultures who don't even recognize traumatic stress as a legitimate disorder. We offer confidential and effective care for anyone who comes to us."
"I have come to you, Christine. I need you."
"I can't decide which cliché would be more appropriate." She told him in a flash anger. "Should I slap your face or just walk away."
"Neither gesture is fitting for the woman before me. Although if you are giving me a choice, I would prefer the later option."
She tried to stifle it, but the sound of her laughter escaped her lips. And, the Vulcan took that moment - when her defenses were down - to move close to her . . . so close, she could feel his heat.
"This is the woman I chose to remember . . . the tender and attentive nurse whose laughter fell upon all who was in her care . . . including a certain Vulcan."
And, when his eyes met hers, she could not look away.
"Christine." He called her name gently. "Come to San Francisco with me."
For a moment, she basked in this moment . . . taking in his gaze . . . his face . . . his presence. But then, she awakened.
"All right, Spock, I'll do it. But whenever I am there, you need to keep your distance from me."
"I will do as you ask." He replied.
Then Christine added coolly, "Now, you better back off of me before I remember all the reasons why I hate you."
Christine Chapel was introduced to Uhura as a consultant who would observe sessions from a monitor. The cadet consented to the arrangement, although she initially wondered why anyone would find such additional attention necessary. After the incident, the East African agreed to at least twelve therapy sessions, but quickly found these periods a waste of her time. Her therapist – Sandra Myerson - always seemed preoccupied and had little strategy to get below the complacent mask Uhura wore to these meetings.
Christine thought she could coach Myerson between appointments with Uhura and still fly back and forth from Boulder to meet most of her own client obligations. However, after observing several sessions she soon discovered the young therapist ill-prepared to handle the quick-witted Cadet who now seemed to treat the meetings as a game. Uhura easily manipulated the therapist and guided the sessions to her liking. There was no discernible progress in the East African's case.
And then, there was Dr. Leonard McCoy. Although ostensibly a cadet, the doctor's previous accomplishments and renown earned him unprecedented status in the medical corps for someone in his position. Christine readily recognized this fact and came to realize how his knowledge, experienced and impassioned presence had caused even established personnel to acquiesce to his self-made authority. Therefore, she was not surprised when he stopped her as she attempted to leave the Medical Treatment Facility to catch a flight back to Boulder.
"I don't know what you think you're getting paid for, nurse, but I'm tired of seeing your backside when you're supposed to be here helping Cadet Uhura."
"Doctor, let me remind you I didn't create this excuse for a mental health program. Under the current system, most of these patients would probably receive more effective treatment by talking with their bartenders."
"You needn't lecture me on the dubious quality of the current program. You were hired to deal with only one person."
"I can only deal with Ms. Uhura indirectly through someone unqualified to deal with traumatic distress disorders. Frankly, I did not know how inadequate mental health staffing was until my first day here. In hindsight under these circumstances I may not have accepted the job."
"So, now both you and Uhura are ready to throw in the towel."
"What do you mean? Cadet Uhura is a bright young woman with an exemplary academic record. From all reports before the incident, she had a promising future with Starfleet and even aspired to one day serving as a bridge officer."
"Well that dream is nearly all, but dead. I found out she requested Captain Pike remove her from the Academy Leadership Program. She told him she now preferred a Terran-based administrative position translating intercepted intergalactic messages. Pike wisely told her he would not accept her withdrawal from the program until she had more time to consider her decision. However, if she does not change her mind within a month, we'll get to watch as she transforms herself from a vibrant butterfly to a dull bookworm."
Her considerable experience in this field informed Christine of the validity of the doctor's prognosis. In the few sessions she had witnessed, she could see signs of growing alienation. That trend needed to be stopped as soon as possible, before the effect on her psyche became irreversible.
"So, tell me, Nurse Chapel." McCoy continued. "Is your stellar reputation based on actual merit or an excellent marketing campaign?"
Although feeling the pinch of his slight, the specialist chose not to address it. "I'll need sole charge of Ms. Uhura's case. Sessions will take place three times a week, instead of one."
"The therapy is voluntary. She'll have to agree to this change in her therapy schedule."
"From what I can tell, I believe she still wants to be helped. Her instincts tell her nothing will come of the present arrangement, so she is simply biding her time. I believe she will accept this change and I don't aim to let her down when she does."
Encouraged, McCoy asked, "When can you begin these sessions?"
"Look, I'm not Mother Theresa. Starfleet will somehow have to find a way to fund this change in my contract and I'm sure you can tell from the invoices I've already submitted my services don't come cheap."
"I'm aware of the cost. Don't worry, I'll get the authorization for the additional expense and I'll talk with Uhura about the change."
"All right, then. I'll need a few days to make further arrangements for my clients in Boulder. Now I better run before I miss my flight." McCoy watched as she hurried away, and then found an empty room where he took out his communicator.
"Spock, here." McCoy heard the voice speak.
"She agreed to take over the case as your predicted, sir."
"Nurse Chapel is a dedicated professional. I had no doubt she would accept the challenge, once she realized Ms. Uhura's career was at stake."
"Sir, there is one major change. We expected her to increase the number of sessions to twice a week, but Christine said she would meet with her three times a week. With the additional frequency of travel and payment for private sessions at her rate, that will substantially increase the cost of the therapy."
"The cost is inconsequential. As I thought I already made clear, I have access to sources that can adequately cover these expenses."
"The funds certainly aren't coming from Starfleet. Are you able to tap into some other type of Federation funding, sir?"
A brief pause provided McCoy with the Vulcan's only response, before he added. "Doctor, please continue to redirect all of Nurse Chapel's invoices to my attention and provide regular reports on Ms. Uhura's progress."
It did not take Uhura long to recognize Nurse Chapel was nothing like her former therapist. Tough and exacting, she would not allow Uhura to slip into the comfort of easy answers. Instead, session by session she broke down the barriers to discovery Uhura had erected.
By the fourth week under Christine's care, the therapist had established a rapport with the Cadet allowing her to uncover the guilt, shame and doubts about the night she was attacked. Uhura felt she had made progress with Chapel, but she still did not feel competent enough to lead.
"How can I command others when they'll know I could be taken so easily?"
"That's what Leveque told you." Christine commented.
"It was probably the one true thing he told me that night." Uhura told her.
"A rapist draws power by disempowering others. The more vulnerable he can make you feel, the more control he believes he has at his command. He has blinded you to your ability to overcome his attempt to dominate you."
"If he would have . . . if he would have come inside me . . ." Her voice began to break.
"He did come inside you, Uhura. Leveque is in your head and only you can remove him from there."
The Cadet hesitated, before she confessed, "I don't know how."
Christine was pleased with her answer. It was a necessary step to allowing her to guide Uhura to a realization of her own inner strengths.
"I would like us to revisit that night." The therapist told her.
"But I told you all I could remember."
"You've told me all you could consciously remember. I would like to try a technique with you that may reveal something yet unspoken. Have you heard of hypnosis, Ms. Uhura?"
Nurse Chapel gave a detailed explanation of the process and answered the Cadet's questions. Anxious for a significant breakthrough, Uhura agree to the therapy.
After inducing the hypnotic state, Christine began to ask a series of questions about the circumstances which led to the incident. Then she asked Uhura to recount her narrative after Leveque had laid her nearly totally paralyzed body on one of the beds in her room.
"His hands . . . " She remembered, "His hands were very cold . . . and he started to remove my clothing."
"All of it?" Christine asked.
"No. Everything . . . below the waist . . . shoes . . . socks . . . my panty. Then he pulled my skirt above my waist."
"The first time any man saw you this way."
She hesitated, and then admitted. "Yes . . . first time . . . a man exposed himself to me . . . straddled over me . . ."
"You didn't want this."
"The rancid odor of his body mixed with whiskey . . . No, I didn't want this . . . didn't want him . . . "
"What happened, Uhura? What happened next?"
"He came down on top of me . . . he was going to take it . . . he was going to take what was mine."
"But, you wouldn't let him do it. You were able to fight back."
"I hit him with his liquor bottle . . . I smashed it against his head."
"You stopped him, Uhura. You stopped him."
"He fell on top of me . . . his blood from his head wound fell on top of me . . . couldn't move him . . . wanted him off of me . . . suffocating me . . . corrupting me . . . losing my mind . . . had to stop him . . ."
"What did you do, Uhura? What did you do to stop him?"
"I prayed for God not to leave me like this."
"Then what happened?"
"I don't know . . . Kirk came . . . knocked Leveque off of me . . ."
"From the statements, nearly 17 minutes probably elapsed before Kirk arrived in your room. With the overdose of the drug Leveque gave to you, you may have died if you had not kept consciousness. Yet, you survived. You held on, Uhura. You found the will to hold on to life."
"Yes . . . yes . . . I remembered." She said with tears streaming down her face. "I remembered what he told me."
"What who told you? Leveque?"
"No. Not him . . . someone else . . . someone who care deeply about. A year ago – I came back from a first year off-planet training mission that had gone terribly wrong. When I returned to our base outside of the city, he was there. And just as we parted he told me, I want you to know that simply your safe return would greatly please me.1I remembered what he said and it was all I needed . . . it was all I needed to hold on to."
No need now to ask his identity. Christine now knew who had spoken those words.
In The House of Diarmuid2 – the gray-haired Irish manager of the teahouse brought a tray with a teapot and several cups to Spock and Christine's table. He commented to the pair, "This is almost beginning to seem like old times. Your tea is served."
"Now, Diarmuid." Christine playfully scolded him. "I told you I didn't want anything. I ate so much at dinner earlier tonight, it's a wonder I was able to fit through the door."
"I heard you tell that lie when you walked in here. Listen girl, you haven't gained a single kilogram since we last served together. Has it been seven or eight years ago?"
"Only seven years – although I'm sure Spock could give us the time to the second."
"Seven years, six months, 23 days, 43 minutes and 2 seconds." The Vulcan offered.
"See what you've done." Diarmuid complained. "You've prompted this computer of a man to speak."
"Diarmuid." Spock interjected. "I believe you have other customers to attend to."
"Nobody's crying for me, yet, and I haven't had a chance to give my spiel about this tea to Christine." Speaking directly to her, he explained. "It's of the sencha variety still grown in Japan. I made sure the water is not too hot so it will have a mellower, herbal taste. It should settle your stomach if you actually have overindulged. If not, it's also a nice way to wind down an evening before getting other things started, if you know what I mean."
Having long grown used to his thinly veiled sexual comments, Christine simply smiled. However, Spock surprised both she and Diarmuid by not bristling as expected.
"I see Spock isn't going to be any fun tonight." The manager huffed after failing to get a rise out of the Vulcan. He moved on to another table.
Christine watched as Spock poured the tea as if serving a prized delicacy. After he filled both of their cups, she reached for hers and tasted it as he waited patiently.
"Mmmm . . . it's just as Diarmuid claimed."
Spock took a sip. "The temperature is too cool. I have told him a number of times he should use a thermometer when preparing our best teas."
"It tastes fine to me."
"A discerning palate would know better."
Christine sat down her cup. She was sure he had no awareness he had insulted her. He never seemed to know. Spock called Diarmuid back to the table and gave him specific instructions before sending him off.
"While you have been in San Francisco, I have honored your request to remain apart from you. Now that your services have brought about a satisfactory outcome in the case of Cadet Uhura, I was pleased when you accepted my invitation to dine before returning to your home, tomorrow. I wanted to show my appreciation for your fine work."
That was at least some progress. She thought. Previously, he would have just assumed there was no need for such gestures.
"Ms. Uhura needed to recognize her own inner strengths and draw upon those things which are most important to her." She commented. "All I did was serve as an agent for her recovery."
"You did much more than such a simple statement could convey. Please be aware I do not take your work for granted. Thank you, Christine."
She should have accepted it on face value – a sincere expression of the Vulcan's gratitude. However, old wounds that had, yet, to heal began a slow burn.
"If I get back to my hotel room at a decent hour, I suppose I could write my final invoice and send it straight to you. Why bother with Dr. McCoy as middleman when I can direct it straight to Ms. Uhura's benefactor?"
"As you wish."
"Thank you for not attempting to deny it."
"I have never lied to you, Christine."
"How long have you been in love with her?"
"You once told me I was incapable of that emotion."
"She's young."
"Not so young."
"She's just a cadet."
"I find her to be a remarkable woman."
"In the past, you seemed to prefer a sexually experienced women."
Fully aware of her subtext, Spock did not dodge her inference. "In the past, you were more than willing to accommodate me with no strings attached. I do believe that was the term you used, but later decided to discard when it became untenable for you."
Ashamed of her behavior, Christine provided no rebuttable.
"Thank you for not attempting to deny it." Spock stated to firmly shut the door on this line of conversation.
Diarmuid set down a tea tray before Spock and Christine. He noted the strained mood between them and quipped before leaving them, "Now this really does seem like old times."
Spock once again poured the tea, but this time tasted it first. "Yes. This is prepared as it should be." The Vulcan nodded to her and she picked up the cup. Holding it to her lips she allowed the warm liquid to move across her tongue and down her throat. Speaking no words for the next few minutes served to calm her as the tea had its effect.
"I'm sorry, Spock." She finally said. "Sometimes I think I'm in need of therapy."
The Vulcan wisely chose not to comment on that statement. He knew she had overstepped her bounds. However, Christine was able to find his Nyota and bring her back to him. He could forgive many transgressions for what the good Nurse had accomplished.
The Vulcan looked toward the future with new vigor. For although he believed he could not give Uhura what she needed, Spock could keep her safe. He was determined to keep her safe.
Author's Notes:
There will be more interaction between Spock and Uhura in the next chapter. And, yes the author is still on track to dramatize their first kiss by Christmas. She'll try to make it worth your while.
Your comments are always welcome.
1 See the end of Chapter 17.
2 See Chapter 8 for a more detailed description of Chapter 8.