Author's Note: Chapter 37 is the last section of a storyline that began with Chapter 28. Occurring during Uhura's second year as a Starfleet cadet, this chapter involves Uhura, Spock, Jack, Gaila, Cadet Damitra Clarke, and Ensign Shen Tan.

The hangar at StarBase One hummed with the sound of landing shuttles, signaling the end of the 2nd year cadet six-week deep space training. From an observation window, Spock and Captain Pike's son, Jack, waited as officers and cadets disembarked.

"I hope Dad's on this one. I can't wait to tell him about my summer vacation with Mom."

"The Captain must necessarily be the last of the mission crew to leave the StarShip as the in-dock operations staff takes over."

"But I've already seen Captains Hernandez and Kern."

"They were piloting smaller ships. The Potemkin and the Colorado have yet to complete debarkation."

"Dad captained the Colorado, right?"

"That is correct."

"And the Colorado's shuttles are landing toward the center."

"Yes, the markings on the spacecraft are distinct."

"Then, Mr. Spock, why do you keep looking toward the left where the Potemkin's shuttles are landing?"

Spock chided himself for being so obvious. Had he been that anxious to see her? Still, a fitting reply to the boy came easily. "Jack, as the Captain's son you are understandably particularly interested in the arrival of your father. However, in my role as a Starfleet Officer, I am duty bound to be concerned with all crew."

"You mean you're not supposed to show favoritism?"

"Yes, that word would be appropriate in –" The sight of her coming out of the shuttlecraft took away Spock's speech. Dressed in her red cadet's jacket and skirt, her radiant face and energetic movement seemed to belong to one who had returned from a long vacation rather than a training mission. With duffel bag over a shoulder, Uhura began to head toward the exit doors with her crewmates. Then suddenly she stopped and turned back. Approaching her was a young ethnic Chinese Malaysian officer who Spock recognized as Ensign Shen Tan. While she stood at attention and Tan assumed an authoritative posture, Spock noted a slight lean toward Uhura in the officer's posture that was not by the book.

"There he is! There's Dad!" The boy said excitedly. "Let's go meet him."

Standing outside the hanger doors, Spock watched as officer family members greeted their returning loved ones.

"What's taking Dad so long to come out?"

"He must sign off on the ship's manifest and several other reports." Spock advised him. "You must be patient." The Vulcan could have used similar counsel as he wondered, Is Nyota still engaged with Ensign Tan?

The Vulcan looked up to an overhead monitor just as the doors slid open and several dozen cadets came out, including Uhura. However, seemingly engrossed in conversation with a female cadet, she passed by him without taking notice.

For a moment, he looked after her before he reasoned, It makes no difference if we spoke just, yet. She will come to see me soon enough.

After Uhura had walked a prudent distance, she turned back to make sure she had seen the Vulcan. When she did so she found Spock with hands clasped behind his back, while looking on the scene of Captain Pike embracing his son.

The East African continued to walk with her new friend named Damitra Clarke, while the Jamaican continued her rant about how no one outside of her homeland believed they had contributed anything of worth to music besides reggae. Having previously heard this argument several times before, Uhura knew she had only to include a few "hmmmps" at appropriate places to appear as if she were listening.

The six-week deep space training had been a good one for her. Since friends like Kirk, McCoy and Gaila had been assigned to other StarShips, she had to build other relationships with cadets she had hardly known. Weekly follow-up counseling sessions with Nurse Chapel via confidential intergalactic messaging gave her the confidence she needed to forge these relations, while learning the routine of her position as a member of the communications crew.

And then, there was Ensign Shen Tan.

Uhura initially met the Shen at an Interfaith Meeting during her first year at the Academy. A Muslim from Malaysia in his fourth year at the Academy, Shen discussed the tenets of his faith and cited similarities with other religions. After the meeting, she accompanied Shen and several others to a grill at the Student Union where they had the usual fare for cadets on a limited budget - sodas, hamburgers and chili cheese fries. At the time, she doubted if she made much of an impression on him, but she had no trouble remembering the handsome and ambitious accountant/lawyer.

Within a day of the beginning of her tour on the U.S.S. Potemkin, Uhura almost literally ran into the now Ensign Tan as she rushed to her assignment so not to be late for her shift. To her surprise, not only did Shen recall her, but also her name. As she started to move again toward her destination, he told her about the ship's Interfaith Group.

"Our first meeting is tonight at 8 in Rec Room F." He said quickly.

Anxious to get to know more of the crew as well as meet other believers, she told him over her shoulder, "I'll be there . . . sir." She hastily added as she remembered his rank.

After working her shift and eating dinner with fellow cadets, she hurried to Rec Room F with iTablet in hand to access her Bible. When the door opened, she found Shen alone sitting at a table with a taquiyah on his head. He stood up upon her entrance.

"I'm sorry, sir." Uhura apologized. "I must have misunderstood the time. It was very kind of you to wait for me."

"Ms. Uhura, you're not late."

"You mean there's only two of us on the entire ship?"

"There might be a few more, but for some it is difficult to admit belief in the face of so much doubt."

Uhura nodded knowingly. She recalled as an undergraduate how she kept her newfound religious convictions a secret from many of her friends until close to graduation.

"Of course, there are other matters we should consider." He continued. "I am no longer a cadet. And, since I am your superior officer, there may be a question of propriety."

"Sir, I know you are the attorney, but Section 1256.2 of Federation Law protects those with religious beliefs. And, within these walls we can treat each other as equals irrespective of rank. Agreed, sir?"

Shen smiled. "Only if you can stop calling me – sir."

"Yes, sir . . . I mean . . . " She laughed. "Just . . . Yes!"

Initially, they decided on a format where they would pray, then read from the Bible or Qur'an and discuss the meaning of the scriptures. They would conclude the session by closing with a prayer. Before long they decided to expand their weekly meetings to three and then every other day. By the fourth week, they habitually began to remain long after their spiritual activities to discuss memories of their homeland and Starfleet ambitions.

While other crewmembers seemed not to notice, Damitra could not resist teasing Uhura about her "spiritual activities" in the cafeteria at breakfast.

"Did you enjoy your prayer service last night?"

"We call it an interfaith meeting. And, yes, I did enjoy it." Uhura answered, trying to stifle a yawn.

"I'm sure you did. So much so that you had to sneak into your berth long after lights out."

"We lost track of the time."

"Yes . . . go on." The Jamaican said as she leaned forward.

"Go on? You act as though there is something to tell."

"Are you going to give me the details or not?"

"You'd be bored."

"Haven't you been alone with this man almost every other day for nearly five weeks?"

"Yes."

"He's an officer."

"Right."

"With degrees in accounting and law."

"This is true."

"In his late twenties, but already with an appointment as an Assistant Comptroller."

"I see someone has been busy reading officer bios."

"He's attractive and you are . . . I guess you're all right looking."

"Thanks?"

"And you both share this faith thing."

"Something like that."

"And you're trying to tell me nothing is happening?"

Uhura paused for a moment, not sure what she wanted to divulge. Although her weekly communications with Nurse Chapel had disclosed her relationship with Ensign Tan, there were some feelings she had chosen not to share with anyone. Not yet.

Damitra waited in silence sensing her friend was on the verge of disclosure. This time she sat back in her chair to give the East African the space to reflect out loud. Her patience was soon rewarded.

"I believe he does have feelings for me. I can hear it in his voice . . . so attentive, as though every word I say has meaning. And, there are times he stands so close to me . . . I can feel his heat."

Damitra suppressed a smile. This is going to be good. The Jamaican nodded to encourage Uhura to continue.

"And at those times, when he stands there . . . so close . . . I know he is waiting for me . . . waiting for me to give him a sign . . . "

No longer able to take the suspense, "Damn it, Uhura, finish your sentence!"

"He waits for a sign as to whether I want him."

Damitra lowers her voice. "You mean to do the nasty?"

"You said it." Uhura confirmed, not really knowing quite what doing the nasty actually entailed.

"Oh, yeah, girl."

"But the time has to be right. So, we downloaded our calendars and found the perfect date."

"You set a date?"

"Oh, yes."

"When?"

"April 1."

"But that's next year. Our mission ends in another week."

Uhura smiled. "Come on, Damitra Our shifts are about to start." Uhura picked up her tray and headed to the recycle station.

Suddenly realizing, Damitra snatched up her tray and trailed after the East African. She satirically commented, "OK, I get it. April Fools Day. LOL, Uhura. LOL."

As Damitra prattled on, a rush of feelings came over Uhura as she reflecting on seeing Mr. Spock upon her return from mission. Just as fine as ever. I think I'm even beginning to think those ears are kind of sexy.

What Uhura could not tell Nurse Chapel or her too-new-to-be-trusted friend, Damitra, is there was still only one man who awakened any sense of desire within her. A need she felt could only be met by his words . . . his breath . . . his touch . . . his . . .

Damn it, Uhura, finish your sentence! As she recalled Damitra's admonishment, she laughed out loud, disrupting the Jamaican's well-worn argument.

"Did I say something funny?" The startled woman asked.

"No . . . no. I'm sorry, girl. Go on." As Damitra found her speed again, Uhura directed her focus to Ensign Shen Tan. He really was the perfect match for her. So much in common with many shared values. Yes, Baba would approve of someone so comforting . . . so predictable . . . so human in every way.

The man Uhura wanted had never shown her comfort.

The man Uhura desired never failed to surprise her.

And although biologically this man was part human – the man Uhura needed looked, reasoned, and behaved like a Vulcan in every way.

I need him, even though I'm not sure if he even gives a second thought about me.

Prompted by the insanity of her circumstance, Uhura erupted in laughter again. Damitra just rolled her eyes.

Uhura needed to see Spock, again. And, while she was on the USS Potemkin, she spent many hours thinking of the excuse for her entrée into his world. She found her answer in one of the few personal possessions she had taken with her on mission. She found her access to the Vulcan in a book of poems.

The third term was not set to begin for eight days. However, the day after she returned from her training, Uhura came to Spock's office dressed in civilian clothes with a kente scarf draped across her shoulder. She held the straps of her purse tightly in her hand and took a breath before entering the office.

He was there.

Mr. Spock was there seemingly absorbed in his work behind his computer console.

Uhura stood patiently waiting for him to take notice.

Time passed and then she decided to speak.

"Mr. Spock."

"One moment, Ms. Uhura." He said without taking his eyes off of the computer screen as he typed in his comments. After several more minutes, the Vulcan turned his chair toward the Cadet to take her into his view.

"You must learn to wait until you see there is a suitable break to avoid disrupting my work."

Slightly taken aback by his comment, Uhura could only reply, "I'm sorry, Mr. Spock."

Standing, his eyes scanned her attire. "You hardly seemed dressed for duty, Cadet."

Not sure why he would make that remark, she replied. "Sir, I returned from mission only yesterday and the third semester has not yet begun. Academy policy does allow civilian clothing during this period."

"Then, if you are not here to begin your appointment, then please reveal the reason for your presence."

She began to ask him why he continued to make reference to some sort of service or work detail, but then the Vulcan added, "I trust you are not here to again inquire about a missing red scarf."1

As her indignation began to smolder, Uhura now doubted the wisdom of her visit. "The scarf was returned to me, sir."

"In good condition?"

Uhura's eyes held steadfast on him as she retorted, "The sender should know full well the condition the article was returned to me, sir."

"Then no doubt the recipient should be satisfied with its state."

"As I hope you will be with the return of this volume." Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the book of poems by T'Plau M'Kloek and handed it to Spock.

"This appears to be the book I gave to Cadet Mendez for his enlightenment."2

"Yes, sir."

Uhura watched as the Vulcan examined the volume, his fingers carefully turning the pages he knew had been touched by the East African.

"How may I ask did you come by it?"

"I would rather not say, sir."

"I see. Well, wherever you obtained it, the leaves appear as though they have been handled frequently. There are even creases in the corners of some pages. While I do not approve its treatment, the condition suggests the reader may have been edified as intended."

"Although that is a worthwhile purpose, I am sure the experience entailed more than edification."

"Explain."

"May I?" Uhura retreived the book from Spock and then turned to one of the dog-eared pages. "Here it is . . . The poem, 'I'tah tehrai k'etwel .' I believe it translates as 'He shall not find it here.'"

"Yes, the translation is a rough, but adequate approximation given the constraints of the Federation language." As though an instructor participating in an exam of a student, Spock stood before her in an authoritative pose. "Often the muse is best served if one does not endeavor to lessen the effect of literature by compromising its meaning through translation. Is it possible for you to read these words in its original form?"

Unconsciously, Uhura touched her kente scarf and then accepted the challenge. So not to think about her former disastrous attempt to speak Spock's native tongue, she began her reading by looking directly at the words on the page. Although her first words had more of an academic tone, she soon found the more polished cadence reminiscent of what Spock heard when he listened to her recitation of the poetry standing nearby in the shadows.3 Then unexpectedly she lifted her eyes and continued her private performance with the Vulcan in her sights until the conclusion of the poem.

Moments passed.

Spock watched as her slender brown fingers reached for her scarf, again, before she spoke. "Your evaluation, sir."

Initially, the Vulcan called attention to her enunciation of several words containing the same triphthong. After his demonstration, she repeated the sound and then the words until he gave his approval. "Overall, I deem you presentation as satisfactory considering the slight defect in the conciseness of your speech. However, even that flaw would barely be noticeable by most non-Vulcans who claim proficiency in the language."

Her smiling face gave her foretold her response, "High praise coming from you, sir."

"Indeed. However, I am most curious about something."

"Yes, sir."

"How long have you had the volume in your possession?"

She would not lie to him. " Months, sir."

"Did you only realize quite recently the book originally belonged to me?"

"No, sir."

"Then what motivated you to bring it to me at this time?"

"I bring not just the book, sir." She sat it down at his workstation.

"Then, what more do you have to offer?"

Having gone this far, she realized there was no turning back now. Uhura's eyes found his and she was determined not to let him go until she told all which needed to be said.

"There is an African tradition to give a gift to mark significant occasions or accomplishments. Yesterday, I returned from my tour signifying the end of my second year toward my goal of becoming a Starfleet Officer. And when I came to my dorm I found a package there from my Nana. She is my maternal grandmother from West Africa."

"Ms. Uhura, I am sure this story has meaning to you, but I fail to see how this relates to the question I posed to you."

"Please bear with me, sir."

Spock nodded for her to proceed.

"The gift was this kente cloth, which I have chosen to wear as a scarf."

"A most practical present. Its generous size will make it less likely to be misplaced."

"Mr. Spock." The cadet told her superior officer in a tone reminiscent of a mother giving a warning to her child to behave.

"Please, go on."

"Kente holds special meaning for my people. Each one of the hand-woven designs provides a visual depiction of our history, philosophy and social customs. The one she chose for me is called, Abusua Ye Dom, and represents the power of the extended family. It's a connection, sir, which will last until the end of time."

"Figuratively speaking."

This woman would not back down. She recognized how the Vulcan used words as his shield against betraying his emotions and Uhura was determined to render that defense useless.

"Not long ago, you took me to the Brooklyn Bridge and told me the story of a man bold enough to reach out his hand to someone unlike himself to make a connection . . . a human connection."

"I do recall that story."

"You accepted the hand of the captain and he became your friend. Is this not true?"

"Yes." He the Vulcan replied tersely.

"And I believe you told me this very personal story, because in your own way you were trying to reach out to me. Is this not true?"

Silence.

"Mr. Spock . . . is this not true?"

Silence.

Uhura could not find her voice. It hurt . . . the silence hurt.

But she was not willing to give up. Not yet.

There was only one thing . . . one human thing . . . she could think to do.

Spock watched as the East African raised her slender brown arm and reached out her hand to him. For a moment, he felt the impulse . . . a desire to take it . . . take her hand and pull her close against him. He needed her . . . and he wanted her to need him.

But then he saw it . . . the scar on her hand from that night . . . the night he could not protect her . . . the night he could not provide her with comfort.

The Vulcan could not move.

Uhura lowered her arm, but no tears came to her eyes. Didn't she want to know? Didn't she get an answer?

The East African found where she had laid her bag and started to head out the door. However, she did not reach it before she heard him call her name. Oh, so now the statue has come back to life.

Uhura thought twice about responding, but then decided she had to know what he could now possibly want of her.

"Yes, sir." She said as she turned back to him.

"You are, of course, not obligated to report to me any earlier. However, it would be best if you did so at least three days before the semester begins so I can review your duties."

"Duties? What duties?"

"As my Course Assistant."

"Sir, I'm afraid you must be mistaken. I'll be serving as Dr. Greeley's assistant."

Moving to his console, he asked, "Did you not have a chance to review your schedule fpr the semester?" Uhura placed her purse on the table by his workstation and then stood behind him as he brought her schedule to the screen, confirming his assertion.

"Why didn't she let me know?"

"I am sure she assumed you would have taken the time to visit her first upon your return to campus. Is she not your advisor and the head of the Xenolinquistics Department?"

"Weren't there any other openings in my discipline?"

"I suppose that question would best be answered by Dr. Greeley."

"Excuse me, sir. I better go see her right away."

Spock watched Uhura hurry out of his office and noticed she had forgotten her purse. She appeared so distressed, the Vulcan wondered if she would be able to persuade Greeley to change her mind about the Cadet's assignment. Perhaps, Greeley would feel Spock did not have enough evidence after all to prove sections of her dissertation had been plagiarized. When the Vulcan confronted the faculty member in her office four days ago, he asked her, "Eighteen years ago, was that not the reason you dismissed my mother from your thesis committee? Did she not raise similar questions as I about the authenticity of some of your work?"

Spock decided he needed insurance to make sure Nyota would be with him. She would be with him, in a place where he could provide his protection . . . his care . . . his security.

Uhura came into her dorm room and threw her body down on her bed.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" Gaila said as she pinned up her red hair.

"Almost everything." Uhura mumbled with her face buried in her pillow. She turned over on her backside to see the Orion dressed in uniform. "Where are you off to?"

"Security detail. I should have done like you and Kirk and put in my time over the holidays."

"Six in one hand; a half a dozen in the other."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing . . . nothing."

While she is looking in the mirror, checking her makeup the Orion asked, "Anything you want to talk about before I submit myself to misery?"

Uhura thought it a useless exercise considering the focus of her roommate's attention, but she decided to proceed. "I was supposed to be Dr. Greeley's assistant this semester, but I found out today she gave it to one of her former aides who's now in his fourth year. She told me he has more experience, but I know I have a greater proficiency with more languages than that guy ever will have."

"Shouldn't she know that?"

"All she would say is there might be an opening next semester."

"What about positions with other faculty in your department?"

"They've already got assistants. The schedule was supposedly since the end of Winter semester."

"So, it looks like you got screwed."

"Well, I do have an offer to serve as Mr. Spock's Course Assistant."

"Course Assistant with Mr. Spock? I know you turned that down."

"Dr. Greeley wants me to think about it. She said I'd have a better chance of getting a position in xenolinguistics if I can gain some experience."

"Mr. Spock – with all of the detailed, precise scientific research he does will take you with no experience as an assistant. However, Dr. Greeley won't and you're the best student she has. That's kind of strange, isn't it?"

Uhura suddenly realized the validity in Gaila statement, but tried to make sense of it. "Mr. Spock also teaches ethics and I did do well in that class."

"Yeah, maybe so." Gaila finished checking her makeup and then noticed something on the dresser. "Well, I can't seem to help you with that problem, but I do have some good news for you."

Gaila tossed Uhura's bag to her, which elicited a relieved response, "My purse! I couldn't remember what I had done with it. Where did you get this?"

"It was waiting for you at the reception desk when I came back to the dorm after my workout. Maya said some young kid with a thick Russian accent dropped it off. He said you left it in the Science Complex."

Uhura nodded. "It had to be Mr. Spock's office. Thanks for picking it up."

"No problem. Better go. Hopefully I'll be back before dawn." She said with dread as she left.

Uhura moved off her bed to place her bag inside one of her dresser drawers. As she did, she noticed it appeared heavier than she expected. Placing the bag on top of the dresser, she looked inside. Then the East African cursed herself as the tears fell upon recognizing one of the contents . . . the dog-eared book of Vulcan poems.

Author's Notes:

I am collapsing my next two chapters into one to meet my – Spock and Uhura's first kiss – deadline. After all this "foreplay," I hope I do not disappoint.

Your comments are always welcome.

1 See Chapter 32.

2 See Chapter 5.

3 See Chapter 33.