Girlfriends, Part Four
Hours later, Commander Spock abruptly calls for Medical to stand by in the Transporter Chamber. Her heart is pounding by the time he finishes those words. She takes a huge lungful of air while he's still speaking and releases it before she needs to reply. "Commander, shall I patch you through? Or can you specify the nature of the injuries?"
Jim is instantly standing by her side. She turns, a little, in her chair so that he can see her face as she listens to the response. "Yes, Commander. Enterprise out." Her hands complete the call to Doctor McCoy; and she relays Spock's words, there, first, before checking to see how much the Captain caught.
Engineer Scott has been injured; is bleeding and in need of immediate medical attention.
She has kept her voice low, but faces are turning toward them – Their owners affected, probably, by an increase in tension over the usual the-First-Officer-is-Away.
With a quick word to an already-rising Sulu, the Captain goes to the Transporter Room to meet the returning members of the team - and to see how bad it is.
He comes back fairly soon, his face grim. He relaxes a little when he sees her eyeing him, and he comes over. His hand is squeezing her shoulder again – steadying them both, she suspects - and he takes a breath before saying, in a voice obviously meant to carry, "Miss Uhura, get me Mr. Spock."
"Aye, sir," she says, and quickly keys in the sequence which will activate Spock's communicator signal.
The Captain walks over and takes the center seat.
A moment later, the Science Officer answers with a brusqueness typical when his mind is otherwise engaged. "Spock here."
Aware, perhaps, of the suddenly-deepened silence around him, Captain Kirk is expansive. "Commander Spock," he says, "Are you having fun?"
Spock is silent, thinking how to respond; and Kirk fills the void, "Mr. Scott tells me you've run into a few complications over there."
Spock answers slowly. To Uhura, it is plain he finds Kirk's mood uncertain. "Nothing unexpected, Captain."
"Oh, I am delighted to hear that, Commander. So, a technician tripping a booby-trap was…"
"Not unforeseen, Captain." Spock pauses; the fact that he continues, in spite of Jim's mood, is proof he is distracted. "He was warned." Spock is wearying of the banter. "Is it safe to assume - "
Jim knows how much Spock hates to be interrupted: "That I called for a reason? Oh, yes." He is tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. Uhura can tell he is weighing his words. When he speaks again, his voice is as determinedly cheerful as before, and he turns in the chair to let his eyes travel around the Bridge. "Scotty tells me he was not the only one caught when that panel blew."
Spock considers his words, now. "Lieutenant Timkins assures me that he is able to continue his efforts here, Captain, without excessive discomfort."
"And everybody else is just fine…" Kirk wonders, without actually asking a question.
Spock's voice carries just a trace of repressive resolve: He is determined to get back to the task at hand as soon as possible. "I have heard no complaints."
"Well, that's a relief anyway. I know how good your hearing is." Spock does not respond. "Any idea how much longer, Mr. Spock?"
"That depends," Spock starts, and again Jim interrupts him - this time, speaking over him, with a slight chuckle.
"That depends on how soon I let you get back to it, I'll bet." Spock doesn't reply. Kirk swings in the chair again, his relief plain to anyone caring to look for it. "Very well, Commander. Keep us informed, will you?"
"Indeed. Spock out." Spock's communicator cuts the link. He is probably already back at work before the Captain is able to push the corresponding button on his own panel.
Kirk sits still for a few minutes, thinking. When he stands from the Command Chair, and turns to Uhura, his face is serious: "I am going down to Sickbay. Let me know when you hear anything – anything at all."
"Yes, sir," she says, in her most professional voice: The look on his face has sent a frisson up her spine.
The Bridge Crew start to change shifts. Hannity comes over and tentatively asks whether she should stay or let her shift relief take over. Uhura is touched by the other's dedication – and, honestly, her concern - but she shakes her head. "No, you go. Get some rest, okay?"
The other woman nods, and smiles a little bit as she moves away, "You, too."
Uhura's relief appears. She sends him back with a shake of her head, then relents and smiles, calling after him. "Soon, alright? I'll call. Promise."
He nods, and heads back to the main array.
Uhura notifies Captain Kirk the moment she hears again from Spock: His voice is very detached, and she is sure that he has had to force himself to stop working to make routine contact. She recognizes in his speech patterns clear indications that he has been thinking in Vulcan, rather than Standard.
She records the conversation for the Captain, and plays it back when he arrives. He comes to stand at her back; and he listens on one of the earpieces, rather than having it broadcast throughout the Bridge.
When he has finished, he just stands there a minute, as though trying to make up his mind.
She turns in her chair to look at him more closely. He's staring off into the distance, and does not much seem to be enjoying the view. When he notices her watching him, he smiles. "I am thinking it's time you had a break, Lieutenant," he says.
She thinks about demurring, but he forestalls her. "You have to be tired, Uhura." He drops his voice, so it's just for her, "I'm tired, and I've just been standing around." His smile is a little self-deprecating. "So humor me."
He stands there, still, while she calls her relief – He does look a little tired, and she imagines she must, too.
She is half-way through dinner in the Officers' Mess when the Captain drops into the chair opposite. Doctor McCoy follows close behind, glaring a bit at Jim until he starts to eat. Kirk rolls his eyes and shovels a couple of bites in, before leaning back and mentioning, casually, "I think they might be almost done over there."
She tries to act just as casual, while hanging on his every word.
"Commander Spock reports that the engine control automation conversion is nearly complete, and that the weapons systems are disabled to his satisfaction."
She just nods and takes another bite, letting her elevated eyebrows convey that she's listening.
"We're expecting Timkins back any minute, now," he says.
McCoy mutters something vaguely rude.
Jim ignores him and takes another bite. He finishes another one before continuing. "Looks like there might be some interesting stuff over there."
McCoy half-chokes down his mouthful and says – glad, probably, for a target, "Oh really? Is that 'interesting', or 'interesting'?" He realizes that both Jim and Uhura are looking at him. He sputters a little, and she finds herself speculating. "'Interesting.' Come on – Is what's over there interesting to me? Or you, Jim? Or is it just interesting to Spock…?"
It's been a long day; and Jim looks down at his plate a moment before answering a little more sharply than he otherwise would, "Interesting enough for Spock to spend the last thirteen hours over there trying to save that ship - at the risk of injury to himself and his men, Bones - rather than letting me blow it out of existence after it fired on us." He looks McCoy in the eye. "For what that's worth."
The doctor blinks, and nods. "Sorry, Captain. It's just that – Well, you should have seen Scotty's hands."
The Captain sighs, pushes away his tray. "I did." He grimaces. "Apology accepted."
They are still sitting there, picking at the food on their trays when McCoy is summoned to the Transporter Room. "Timkins," the doctor says, and he goes to notify Sickbay, on the way out.
Uhura watches them go: Seeing the nervous energy expressed by the Captain's stride, she suspects that - if Spock doesn't hurry - Jim will find an excuse to beam over to the other ship, himself.
She thinks about going back to the Bridge: The Captain was very careful, she noticed, to make sure he said that she should take a break, not that she was done for the day. But, if she's honest, she knows that everything is probably well in hand: The other people in her department are top-notch; they deserve to be able to just do their jobs, too.
And she doesn't want to be too obvious, either.
She decides, instead, to go for a swim. She drops by her quarters to get a few things, then heads down to the pool deck. She quickly changes into her suit, grabs her padd to read by the side.
Sitting on the edge, with her feet paddling idly in the cool water, she begins to physically relax – But she is completely unable to concentrate on the words scrolling past. She keeps seeing the encryptions Spock sent to her earlier, and trying to imagine what he could be doing now. She gives up on reading, and puts the padd on her chair. She stretches out her shoulders, rolls her head to loosen her neck: If she's not careful, it'll be sore tomorrow.
She stands and stretches her legs, her arms, her shoulders; again, her neck. She crouches, then pushes up, slowly uncurling her spine. She shakes the last of her physical tension loose as best she can. Unwinding her hair band, she drops it on the padd, where she'll be able to easily find it.
Uhura walks to the end of one of the lanes. She has never thought much about it, but she has a preference: She likes the third one in. Standing there, she feels like she commands the whole room. She can see both changing room doors at the far end, the entrance to one side, the Observation Deck windows high above. She can see the length and breadth of the water: The characteristic vibrating ripples shivering the surface are the only indication that she's on a ship and not in a building, somewhere, Earth-side.
Yes, she's on a ship, and Spock –
Spock is…
She bends her legs slightly, bends to touch her fingertips to the edge of the tile. Her head drops and she stills - just for a second - before exploding off the deck with all the power she has gathered: Body straight, arms reaching – out, out, and down. The cool washes over her; and, suddenly, there is nothing but Nyota and water.
Eons later - moments later - she pulls herself out of the pool, arms shaking with muscular fatigue. She has lost track of the time, and the laps. Her shoulders are tired - her hips, her thighs. Her first step is unsteady as gravity exerts its claim. Her brain is tired, too: It whispers to her that, if he doesn't come home, tonight, maybe she'll still be able to sleep. Angrily, she grabs her towel, roughly scrubbing off the moisture clinging to her skin; the painful tingle is enough to banish the treasonous, reasonable voice.
Uhura stands in her quarters, undecided. She grabs the padd, the socks she's knitting, her black silk chemise.
She stands in his quarters, undecided. He hasn't returned, that much is plain. (And she hates having to acknowledge that she'd hoped he'd simply been too tired to call.) Everything is just as she left it when she hurried out – oh, ages ago. She drops her padd and knitting on the couch, and her chemise on the bed. Quickly, she tidies up.
He should have a yeoman to do these little tasks. That's totally expected. She knows this – and yet, for obvious reasons, he doesn't.
She remakes the bed more neatly, puts away her clothes, straightens the little area where she keeps her make-up. In the bathroom, she puts away her toothbrush – Spock left in three minutes, but everything of his is perfectly neat.
When she realizes she's just fussing, now, she forces herself to stop. Everything is perfect; and he still hasn't come. Gaila would recognize this behavior and laugh at her for it, she thinks – It still doesn't have the ability to conjure, no matter how much she tries.
She puts her padd, neatly, on the corner of his desk, and picks up her knitting. She stands undecided.
Finally, she decides to go to Sickbay.
Outside the door, she finds she can't go in. She knows it's weak. But, somehow, until she hears… until she knows… until Spock comes home - until she can see him, touch him, know he's alright - she just can't. In her mind, she hears Leonard's voice, sees Jim's face, at dinner: She loves Scotty, she really does; and Timkins was there, but she can't do it.
Oh, Lord, it's been a long day.
As she's standing outside the doorway, McCoy comes past her, heading in. He's intent, and he seems to hardly notice her, except as an obstacle as he approaches the doors. He moves through… Well, the Doctor doesn't have a choice. And once inside, he'll see what is (just like Spock, which is pretty funny, actually) and deal with that honestly, as efficiently as he can.
She starts to leave; walks those few paces back. She's still standing there, undecided.
Just then, the Captain comes out. He smiles when he sees her, a sad tired smile she's seen too many times. He knows why she's come – and maybe why she hasn't come in: He doesn't have a choice, either.
Jim stops, steps closer, stands just enjoying her company for a moment - not being the Captain, but being a friend. He rubs one palm along her upper arm, and she's glad she decided on hand-knit Merino. With a moment of clarity, she realizes that she's safe for him: She's one of the few people that he can touch, without weirdness. (Or much, anyway.) And Jim needs that, that physical grounding that one can only get through contact with another being.
There is a certain irony in the fact that this most tactile of men works in such close quarters with one who avoids such contact just as assiduously.
Again she hears Gaila's voice (and a part of her wonders whether this is going to become a pattern), breathlessly saying, after a particularly vicious dig in the ribs, "Hey! Commander Too-hot-for-his-own-good is back. Ooooh, is that a limp? Mmm, sexy." A wide smile, raised eyebrows. "Nyota, I bet if you just went on up there and gave him a squeeze, that'd make it all better." Uhura had said something withering, which Gaila thoroughly ignored. The woman was irrepressible. "What? You don't think he'd like it? Trust me, girl, all men like it – Vulcan ones, too, probably. We don't just make good girlfriends, you know. We are most excellent girl friends, too – 'cause we Orions just haven't learned, yet, that men don't need to be hugged."
And Jim Kirk does look like he could use a hug. He really does.
Uhura gives him a smile instead.