A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed Chapter 5. Your encouragement gave me the push I needed to finally finish editing this chapter! Thanks, also, to my beta Paula (vampirealchemist13), to Tony and Rotem (who helped edit the Vulcan poem), and to Leo (who roleplayed the Amanda and Spock conversation with me to help my writer's block a couple of months back). This is my New Year's present to all of you.
Posted: 01/02/2012
Last edited: 01/13/2012
Somehow Nyota had made it through the weekend.
On a normal Monday afternoon, she would be in the lab. During term she might be finishing a reading assignment, editing a paper, or working with Spock on translations.
Nyota had often told herself (and a certain nosy Orion) that she liked Spock's lab because it was quieter than the library. In truth, she had gone there because she enjoyed his company, whether they were working together or separately.
Now, having severed all ties except for this research paper - now their final collaboration - Nyota was working as much as possible away from the lab. This afternoon she sat in the library in a secluded corner, watching heavy raindrops blur the air outside the towering windows.
To make matters worse, Sorel would be here any moment. Given this weekend's emotional distraction, his corrections of her work would be necessary, but the last time Nyota had seen him had been when she'd so abruptly excused herself from their date.
Right on time, her Romulan friend took the seat across from her and handed her a mocha. "Good afternoon, Miss Uhura," he said warmly.
Stunned, Nyota accepted the mug and met his eyes. "Thank you," she said gratefully.
Sorel smiled.
It appeared she hadn't lost another friend after all.
In half an hour their translation of the erotic poem from Friday morning, the words that had been swimming through Nyota's mind for days, was nearly complete.
My eyes thirst for you
Your cheeks, flushed and glistening
Your lips, swollen with desire
And as I drink your beauty like wine, you are a stream flowing through my parched desert.
My skin hums for you
Your legs like li'pon, dark and strong
Your hips curved and smooth as a lyre
Your elegant back, strung tightly with need
I pluck cries from you with my body; my hands play music down your sides
Nyota bit her lip, trying not to imagine pointy ears and even harder not to think which face should belong with them.
My heart burns for yours, t'hy'la
My fingers kiss your face like flames
We meld like golden sand poured into a boiling sea
We are together, one soul subsumed by the rapture of...
And then came the word that intensified Nyota's misery:
...love.
We are together, one soul subsumed by the rapture of love.
Nyota's stomach twisted sideways in the same way it had during her first time in a zero-grav simulator. Again, she had to remind herself to breathe to avoid throwing up.
Sorel seemed to read her mind. "Enlightening, no? Vulcans would have you believe they aren't capable of love, but they're more similar to Romulans than they care to admit."
Spock didn't love her. This she knew. This he had made clear with his cold, humiliating dismissal of her feelings three days ago.
Until now, Nyota had believed that Vulcans were incapable of romantic love. She had assumed that as a half-Vulcan who chose to follow the Vulcan path, Spock was simply unable to fall in love.
Now that she was confronted with her mistaken belief about Vulcan emotions, her assumption about her friend made her sick.
Wasn't it possible that Spock was capable of romantic love, and that he simply didn't love her?
It was so obvious that she was ashamed to have missed it.
"You alright, Miss Uhura?"
Her instinct was to reply with a breezy 'of course,' but something in his expression stopped her. She looked down at her PADD and shook her head.
Sorel slid into the chair next to her. "I think you should know something about me, Miss Uhura."
She looked at him in surprise. She'd expected him to ask what was wrong; somehow he seemed to know she didn't want to talk about it.
"I want to tell you a story." He looked out the window into the rain. For a long moment he was silent. She sat with him, waiting.
Finally he spoke.
"Palas was my wife. She was the love of my life."
This he said with the rehearsed detachment of someone who has seen tragedy and cannot bear to keep it close.
"She had a rare genetic abnormality, something that could have been fixed before birth had it been discovered. The doctors didn't find it until she fell ill." His voice cracked.
Nyota touched Sorel's hand. He turned his palm over and grasped her fingers.
"We can reach other planets faster than photons can, but there was nothing our doctors could do for my wife."
A moment of silence settled over them. "Let her memory be light," Nyota said in Rihannsu.
"I thank you," Sorel replied.
Nyota brushed her thumb over the back of his hand.
"I left Romulus. I couldn't stand to be reminded of her." Sorel's lips twitched into a humorless smile. "There's no running from memories." He drew in a thoughtful breath and looked at her. "Miss Uhura, I like you."
Nyota couldn't help but grin, and Sorel returned her expression.
"I like the curve of your lips when you smile," he said. "I like the way your eyes glitter when you talk about Enterprise." He lifted his other hand and touched her hair, and she watched a loose piece slide between his fingers. "I like how your ponytail swings like a pendulum when you strut down a corridor.
"I like you," he repeated. "And that's why I hope you don't slap me for this next part."
Nyota raised an eyebrow. "I make no promises," she said warily.
Sorel chuckled under his breath. "What I'm trying to say is that so many things about you are beautiful in their own right." He released her hand. "Miss Uhura, you are lovely. And you're all the more lovely because you remind me of Palas."
Nyota blinked.
She blinked again.
Her every instinct told her she should be offended, but instead she found she was relieved.
Why had she laughed with Sorel at the Stardust?
Why had she let him kiss her against the architecture building?
It wasn't just because she liked him, though she did. They both knew it wasn't just that; they'd known that from the night they'd met.
Sorel had lifted a weight from her shoulders. In some screwed-up way, their equal guilt absolved them both. Nyota grasped Sorel's hand again and squeezed it.
They were silent for a moment more.
"You love him," Sorel said simply.
Nyota nodded slightly. What was the point in denying it, now that she had cut herself off from him? For the first time since she and Sorel had met, she dropped her guard completely. "I'm just… I'm not doing so well today," she admitted.
Sorel squeezed her hand in return. "Let me know if I can do anything," he said, and she knew he meant it. "A hug." Then he smirked. "Or sex. I told you, you're lovely."
She laughed genuinely and embraced him.
"I expected you wouldn't go for sex in the library," he said, gathering her into his warm arms.
They could bring each other comfort, at least. Nyota only wished it was enough.
"You're two minutes early, Spock."
Spock always appreciated his mother's gentle teasing. "Good evening, Mother."
"Did you get the yon-savas we sent with your Uncle John?" Fire fruit were among Spock's favorite foods, and they did not grow well on Earth. "We had an excellent season this year."
"Indeed," Spock confirmed. Then, as an afterthought even after all these years with a human mother, he added, "Thank you."
Amanda was silent for a few moments longer than normal, and Spock waited for the inevitable question.
"What's wrong?" She had always been able to read him despite his best efforts.
"'Wrong' is imprecise, Mother," Spock replied. "However-" He pursed his lips, trying to determine how best to phrase his emotional state. "Work has been... difficult of late."
"Is this about that quantum field project of yours? I thought you and that nice Russian boy had that one figured out." She smiled. "You're not going to try explaining it to me again, are you?"
Spock allowed his lips to quirk slightly. "I have more sympathy than that, mother."
Amanda laughed lightly at the joke. She and Nyota were among the few who understood his sense of humor - and at the thought of Nyota, Spock swallowed around a lump in his throat.
A lump in his throat. Recently Spock had come to understood certain human metaphors for which there seemed to be no accurate semantic substitutes.
"I had mentioned my aide. Do you recall?"
Amanda nodded. "You seemed impressed with her... efficiency," she said with an impish grin. When Spock did not elaborate, she prompted him. "Are you having problems with your research?"
"To describe the situation as such would be inaccurate." Truly, Spock and Nyota were having no problems conducting research over messages. The problem, he thought with a flush of shame, was his own emotional response to her absence. "She has resigned."
Amanda frowned. "You seemed fond of her. I'm sorry." Then, gently, she said, "I'm sure Miss Uhura is busy preparing to graduate. Perhaps she'll be able to help you more once this semester is over."
"It is winter here, Mother," he reminded her. "Autumn term has ended, and Spring term will begin next week. Regardless, I do not think Nyota will be returning as my aide - or otherwise."
She lifted her eyebrows. "Otherwise?"
The pain under Spock's ribs had returned. "Nyota has... terminated our friendship."
Amanda's face fell. "What happened, honey?"
Spock pressed his left hand into his side. It did not dull the ache. "Nyota confessed romantic feelings for me," he said, attempting to keep the tremor from his voice. "When I did not respond in kind, she departed."
"Spock," Amanda said.
It was a full sentence, not the beginning of one. Amanda seemed sad, and Spock was unsure whom for. "Mother, I am Vulcan," he reminded her. "I cannot ignore what this means." It had been his mantra for as long as he could remember.
She met his eyes through the vidscreen. "I never want you to compromise who you are, Spock. I love every inch of you," she said with conviction. "I just hope someday you'll learn to accept all of who you are - and what you feel." She looked wistful.
Spock felt a sudden surge of warmth for his mother. "In a nearby park I have recently observed a bioluminescent flower that I think you would enjoy," he told her. "Shall I send a few specimens to modify for growth on Vulcan?"
Spock was gratified to see Amanda smile. "I would like that," she replied, in the light tone that meant she would not press him further about Nyota. "Now, tell me about this computer error you mentioned last week."
Spock wished his mother were here. Uncharacteristically for him, he would have welcomed a hug from her
A/N: I'm aware that we didn't actually resolve anything yet. I needed to reveal the depth of the situation. Chapter 7 needs a lot of work, and reviews will make me more likely to update again before I return to uni on January 7th! I respond to all signed reviews, even thumbs-up or thumbs-down. :-) (I would love to respond to unsigned reviews, as well, but I have no way of contacting you!)
