A/N: A very special THANK YOU to the lovely Tridacnagigas. Your writing ethic is a work of eloquent art. (check her page out)

IV. Emotion.

If anyone was happy, it was Lt. Amelia Takashi. Trying desperately not to bounce around the programming wing amidst anxious, fidgety peers who were each consumed by their own personal states of cabin fever syndrome, a blatant smile was literally programmed into Amelia's facial muscles. Her fingertips danced gracefully across her screen-board as she inputted data and fed coding into the system. She – or rather, the crewmen around her – caught herself humming a few classic tunes that no one around her would recognize, and there was an apparent bounce in every fluid step when she moved about the corridors. She handed off PADDs to other crewmen with enough vibrant enthusiasm to push them over.

Despite how obviously elated Amelia was, no one asked her as to why. If anything, everyone assumed that it was because the U.S.S. Enterprise was to dock on Trill the following day; that in itself was reason enough to celebrate. Even though no one aside from the small away team assembled by Captain Kirk had been given clearance to beam down to the planet's surface, it still meant that most of the chief officers would be off-ship – which meant less pairs of eyes wandering about. This was enough to boost crew morale into a frenzy of finishing a good chunk of the work so that those few precious days that they would be docked at Trill would be simpler, more carefree ones.

But if anyone had asked if this was the cause of Amelia's euphoric state, she would have denied it. None of her emotions had anything to do with docking at Trill. In reality, her reason was entirely simpler.

"Scotty to Takashi, come in please," came a thickly Scottish voice over her communicator.

With an energetic tap to the emblem on her chest, she greeted cheerily, "Takashi here, Scotty."

"Would you mind bringing me the upgrades for the core computer system, lass?"

"Not a problem at all, Mr. Scott! Be there in a sec."

Slipping a lanyard threaded through two thin cards over her head, she marched smartly into the corridor where she collided instantly with Skylar.

"Oh, hey!" Amelia beamed, holding Skylar out at arm's length. Skylar was rigid in her grip, and her attempt at a return smile seemed a little strained.

"Where are you going?" Skylar inquired, very businesslike.

Letting her arms drop to her sides, Amelia replied, "Scotty needs some codes for an update. Want to walk with me?" She noticed that Skylar was still in her basic red tunic and uniform pants. She also noticed a faint discoloring on Skylar's neck that seemed to be hinting itself through … concealer?

Skylar shook her head. "I actually need a simulation upgrade for today's fitness course."

"You're not running it?"

Skylar shook her head.

"Are you not feeling well? You're still in your reds."

"I'm fine," Skylar replied testily. "I just need the simulation upgrade when you're done."

The pep in Amelia's tone faltered slightly. "Okay …"

"Thanks," Skylar muttered as she began to turn.

"Sky?"

Skylar looked back over her shoulder.

Amelia offered her a small smile. "If you need to talk …"

"I'm fine, Amelia," Skylar snapped. "Leave it alone." She promptly headed back down the corridor toward the general tactical wing.

Amelia shook her head and continued toward Scotty's wing. A few minutes later, after passing crewmen who all looked frazzled and ready to explode, she found Scotty's lower half poking out from under a computer console whose top was beginning to shoot off sparks. His PADD was resting on top of his stomach, rising and falling with every twitch of abdominal movement.

"Damn piece of digital sh –"

"Mr. Scott?" Amelia called sweetly, bending over him.

Scotty immediately sat up, bringing his head into painful contact with the underside of the console. "Gah!" he groaned, extracting himself from the guts of the malfunctioning equipment. "Amelia," he said, squinting in pain as he rubbed at his forehead. She crouched next to him, offering a sympathetic shoulder squeeze. "Aren't you a sight for an injured head."

"Should I escort you to Sick Bay?"

"Is that the reason you're so peppy today?" Scotty asked as got to his feet. Amelia rose with him, prepared to offer support.

"Excuse me?" she asked with a laugh. Deeming him capable of supporting himself, she took a step back and pulled off the lanyard.

"Thanks," Scotty remarked tersely, taking the upgrades from her as he led them over to the core system computer. Leaning over the mainframe and still appearing in pain with a scrunched nose and squinted, watery eyes, he continued with more interest, "Yeah, don't think I don't hear the gossip, especially when it pertains to friends."

Amelia placed her hands on her hips, pouting. "Well, I was going to talk to Skylar about it –"

"Good luck, she's in a right foul state today," Scotty interrupted, slipping the upgrade cards into the waiting slots and dancing his fingers over the screen-board to an accompanying symphony of beeps and pings.

"Do you have a moment, then? I need to tell somebody!"

A smile played on Scotty's lips as the core system computer made a contented purring sound and he stood upright, his fingers leaving the screen-board. "Shall we step into my office?"

Amelia grabbed him by the hand and towed him into his own office, instantly shutting the door behind them. "Okay, you can't say anything, especially not to Hikaru because I haven't seen him yet, but …"

Scotty beamed expectantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'minlovewithLeonard!" came a rush of words so amorous that Amelia had to wrap her arms around Scotty and squeeze him tightly, unable to express her excitement in words.

Almost falling over, Scotty managed to regain his balance and return the embrace, chuckling in the process. "So it's official, then?"

Amelia radiantly smiled up at him. "I'm going to tell him tonight! He has this whole dinner planned out for tonight in his quarters – I think he's planning to say it to me, officially! I mean, unless he's going to –!"

"Going to –?" Scotty asked, slightly concerned about the heat in her eyes and the manic width of her grin.

Amelia clenched her teeth and squealed, "Propose?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Scotty chuckled gently, holding her out at arm's length. "Lassie, you need to tone it down to warp factor two for just a kind minute." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and slowly led her to his chair.

"I'm sorry, Scotty, I'm sorry," she laughed. "I'm not usually like this. It's just that I know he's it. He's the one." She allowed Scotty to sit her down in his chair, while he sat in front of her on the edge of his desk. "Things have been going so well between us. I mean, we've had our little issues, but I really think that it's going to happen tonight."

"Saying the L word?"

"At least! I mean, it couldn't hurt to talk about a potential future together."

"It seems logical enough," Scotty said, maintaining a slow, even tone and holding her gaze intently. "But, being a man, and knowing what kind of man Leonard is, please don't get your heart broken if the whole marriage thing doesn't necessarily pop up on the radar tonight."

Amelia's shoulders slumped just the slightest bit, and she pursed her lips. "It's his divorce, isn't it?"

"I know that it's hindered him significantly," Scotty commiserated.

"We've been taking this extremely slow because of that. And other factors, of course," she said, staring at her intertwined fingers on the desktop. "I mean, he is older than me. He's afraid of settling down too soon, because of that and his divorce. But I think we've gotten past both of those factors," she said firmly, looking up at Scotty. "And honestly, I can't see myself with anyone else but him. I love him; I honest-to-God love him."

Scotty shrugged. "He did seem to be in an unusually decent mood this morning."

"We had a lovely evening last night." Amelia's cheeks colored becomingly.

Scotty smiled down at her. "You are the only thing keeping everyone on this ship from death by hypo."

"Scotty," said Amelia, placing her hand atop his where it rested on her shoulder. "Leonard and I have been together for almost a year now. I mean, he's surrounded by beautiful crewmates and he's never done anything to suggest that he doesn't want to be with me. I'm pretty sure he can feel it, too."

Under her smaller hand, Scotty gave her shoulder a squeeze. "From a male perspective, I'm pretty damn sure he loves you, too." He slid off the desk, and she levered herself out of his deep chair. "My advice may not be as sound as Sulu's, but I think it's safe to say that tonight is going to be a good night."

Amelia hugged him again, eyes regaining the euphoric shine they'd held the entire day.

"I'm also flattered to be the first to know," Scotty added, looking down at her hair.

"It's nice to get advice from something with a penis that isn't of the gay persuasion." Amelia stepped away and winked at him. "Not that I don't love my Hikaru. He is my best friend, after all."

"Any time." Scotty glanced at his watch. "Well, I've spent seven and a half minutes away from the core; I'd better get back before someone melts down a reactor or something."

"You don't trust your men alone?"

"I don't trust the fact that they're on a shore-leave high, and that's enough to intoxicate any being into utter stupidity," he said as he led Amelia out the door.

::::::

Nyota Uhura sat her tray down at the table where Amelia, Chekov, and Sulu sat.

"What's with the hushed whispers?" Nyota inquired, digging a spoon into her lunch.

Sulu turned to Nyota, beaming. "I think someone may say the L word tonight," he playfully replied, nudging a blushing Amelia.

"Eet vill be a glorious thing to hear Leonard say zat vord, no?" Chekov said.

Nyota put down her spoon and clasped Amelia's hand firmly. "Oh my gosh! How exciting! I always knew out of all of the couples on this ship that you two would be the first to, you know, get serious."

"Serious?" Chekov questioned. "Zey are already having sex."

Nyota rolled her eyes while Amelia shook her head. "I mean serious, like actually might get married before everyone else 'serious.'"

"Oh," Chekov replied. "Zat kind of serious." He shot a look at Sulu, who promptly grabbed his glass and took a drink.

Amelia looked at Nyota. "I am so happy – I could die."

"You're so lucky," Nyota told her with a smile as she picked up her spoon again. "He's such a handsome gentleman, you know? I've seen the way he holds open the door for you, how he pulls out your chair. Who the hell else does that around here?"

Amelia shrugged slightly. "I've seen Kirk do that for you."

Sulu nearly choked on a bite of his own food.

Nyota laughed sarcastically. "Don't even get me started on that man. He tried to come into my room last night to fool around, then tried to take it back and leave. I threw his ass out so fast I don't even think warp 10 could have caught up with him."

"Did he really?" Sulu inquired.

"Vhat has been up vith him lately?" Chekov asked all around. "Him and Mister Spock?"

Nyota shrugged. "I don't know what Kirk's issue is. He wants to talk about his moods and then just closes up like that," she said with a snap of her fingers. "His method of talking about his emotions is using his dick, and I don't want to do that anymore. I need a consistent man who doesn't flirt with everyone that has a pair of tits."

"Zat one alien we encountered on LaDarion VI only had one teet."

Nyota narrowed her eyes at Chekov, who smiled innocently back at her.

"Maybe it's time to branch away from guys like Kirk, Nyota," Sulu suggested. "I don't know if he even knows what he wants. Maybe it would be better for you both – emotionally – if you both just keep it casual."

"I agree," Amelia said honestly. "I mean, it's one thing to just mess around with no strings attached – well, for some. But I know personally, sex is something that binds you even if you never considered romantic feelings for that person. It will stick with you, maybe even forever. I can honestly say, I've never actually had sex … I've made love. With Leonard. Because I love him. I think that people who have sex just to have sex become so emotionally damaged because they lose a piece of themselves every single time they give that part of themselves away. And maybe Jim is beginning to feel that loss now."

There was a brief silence as everyone looked at Amelia. Finally, Hikaru said, "You are such a sap."

Amelia smacked him on the arm as the others laughed. "I'm not trying to be a sap, and I'm not making judgments about anyone else's personal decisions. I'm just trying to tell you how I see it."

Nyota sighed. "I suppose it makes sense."

"I just think you should analyze how you really feel about Jim – even if you think you don't have any attachment to him – before you decide to get physical with him again."

"If that ever happens," Nyota retorted, glaring at her lunch as if it too had insulted her.

"You must heve some feelings for him," Chekov remarked. "It has you theenking."

"Wow, I didn't realize how emotional we were going to get," Nyota said, grabbing her water glass. "I would have ordered something alcoholic."

Twirling her spoon around in her food, Amelia looked around the table. "Hey, have any of you seen Skylar today?"

Nyota's eyes widened. "OhmyGod!" she said leaning in, everyone else doing the same as her voice became hushed. "Did you see the enormous hickey she's trying to cover up?"

"That was a hickey?" Amelia asked, eyes widening. "It looks like someone punched her in the neck."

Nyota shook her head, smirking. "It has to be a hickey."

"Holy shit, and I thought human-given hickeys were tacky," Sulu said. "Boy, does that Vulcan have a pair of lips."

"Intense sucking action, indeed," Chekov added. "It's amazing that ze underlying infrastructure of her neck is still in place." He and Sulu wiggled eyebrows at each other.

"I don't know, guys," Amelia said, sitting upright again. "It looked too … painful to be a hickey."

"Try getting one from James T. Kirk and maybe you'll understand."

Sulu eyed Nyota. "I've never seen you with a hickey."

Nonchalantly, Nyota replied, "It wasn't on my neck," and she took another bite.

Sulu nodded, impressed.

"Is it really bugging you, Ems?" Chekov inquired.

Amelia looked up from her plate. "I don't know. I ran into her today and she was really pissy. I don't know if what happened to her neck correlates with her mood, but …"

"She hasn't been up on the bridge at all so far," Sulu commented.

"And Spock seems more and more lost every day," Nyota added.

"How so?" Amelia asked.

"He's just been super out of it," Nyota replied.

"He totally snapped at me today," Sulu added.

Nyota, nodding, continued, "He did, and about something completely trivial. Lately, Jim has had to ask him questions twice. He's been glued to that scanner like an infant on a boob, and his knuckles … he grips things so tight his knuckles go green." Nyota shook her head. "I haven't the slightest idea what is up with him, or her, or anyone for that matter. Right now, Ams, you're the only one with a sane relationship." Chekov cleared his throat, and Sulu raised an imperious eyebrow at her. "Oh, well, and you two are pretty sane, I suppose."

"Thanks," they said in monotonous unison.

"I tried to confront Skylar about it, but she totally rejected me," Amelia admitted.

Nyota gave her a smirk. "I wouldn't doubt that there are issues between them. I mean, look at them; they are exact opposites. Whoever penned the words 'opposites attract' obviously never visited the cosmos."

Sulu turned toward Amelia. "On a lighter topic, guess what I found wedged between the pages of an old textbook in my room last night."

Amelia watched him curiously as he reached into his back pocket. Chekov caught a glimpse of the small square piece of what appeared to be paper, and he beamed and nodded. "Oh, yes!"

Sulu handed it over to Amelia, and as soon as the thick, smooth object touched her fingertips, a smile spread across her face. "A photo!" she exclaimed, turning it over. At the sight of the image, her lips parted, though no words came out.

"An actual photo," Nyota remarked, impressed. She glanced at Sulu. "Yours?"

"A pastime I had in high school. I had stumbled upon my great-grandfather's old camera and its software. It's hard finding a place that will actually print anything nowadays, but back then I was able to do some minor printing. Mostly I just kept images on a pic-deck."

"What is it of?" Nyota asked Amelia, who was still immersed in what she was staring at. Her eyes were glued to the photograph, though her gaze was a million miles away.

Amelia's thumb brushed over the young, thin female, whose back was to the photographer. She was sporting a royal-blue ballet outfit, complete with matching slippers, all trimmed in black. Her black hair was pulled up into a high bun on her head. Faint freckles lined the girl's cheekbones. Her jaw line was sharp, and her posture was flawless. One of her arms was curved out to the side, the other delicately arched high over her head. She stood high on pointed toes, feet crossed at the ankles.

Coming back to the present at Nyota's repeated inquiry, Amelia turned the photograph around to show it to her. Nyota carefully took it from her. "This is you?" Nyota asked, looking up at Amelia as if to compare what features she could with the angle given.

Amelia nodded. "Yes."

"Prima ballerina," Sulu chuckled.

"Hardly," Amelia laughed.

"She'll never admit it, but she was the best," Sulu told Nyota. "I absolutely loved photographing her at her recitals. My family and I always went. She was the most graceful ballerina in the company."

Nyota handed the photograph back to Amelia. "It's absolutely gorgeous. You look beautiful."

"Thank you," Amelia replied, taking back the photograph. "Ballet was so important to me," she explained, gazing down at the picture again. "It took me away from all of the pressure my parents placed upon me. When I danced, all of my irritation, my anger, my sadness – all of me would bleed out. My dancing was the one place I could forget about everything and just be me. I never danced for anyone but myself."

"She was the most vibrantly aggressive ballerina onstage," Sulu added. "Sometimes I didn't know if it was her dancing at all."

"I suppose we all have our inner demons." Amelia smiled at him as Nyota handed the picture back.

Sulu proffered it to Amelia. "By all means, Ams, have a piece of your glory days back."

"No, I don't need it. I'm living out these glory days now. You keep it."

"Alright," Sulu said, glancing at it again before tucking the photograph back into his pocket. "It is one of my favorites."

"Mine, too," Chekov remarked. "You vould have made an excellent dancer in ze Russian ballet, Ems."

Amelia giggled appreciatively. "Thanks, Chekov."

"I'm sure Leonard appreciates your flexibility," Nyota teased, gathering her tray together.

"That's never been brought up," Amelia admitted. "Are you back on duty?"

Nyota stood. "Yeah, I'm heading that way. I'll keep you posted on any new events, but for now, focus on the whole L word adventure. See you all later."

Nyota nodded to them all and walked away.

:::::

Skylar hunched over the sink, fingers clutching the cool steel. Her chest heaved under her sports bra, and sweat dotted her body under her black standard PT pants. Forcing her head up, the sight of the bruising along her neck staring back at her out of the mirror made her nails dig painfully into the steel ridges of the sink.

Her teeth gritted. Everything was off. She did not understand why, but she could feel it. She had watched her crewmen train all evening, and had wanted desperately to jump in and join the action; the thought of jabbing something caressed something inside her like water on a thirsty tongue. But she couldn't. Somehow, she felt weak. The bruise told her this. It was a public embarrassment, and a constant reminder. She could not let anyone see what had become of her.

But even watching the blood, sweat and vigorous activity of the tactical course at a distance, Skylar paced like a hungry dog desperate for the parade of free-range meat dangling itself before her cage. She knew that she had caused a bit of consternation by instructing her squad from a distance; her men were not stupid by any means. In fact, she interpreted their sideways glances and raised eyebrows as innocent curiosity. Was it a health issue? Had she injured herself? The majority were probably relieved at a day without a sucker punch to the abs or the face, but none of them slacked in their performances. None of them went down without giving it their all.

Skylar watched as man after man of her crew was dismissed to Sick Bay, though not by their choice. She had seen them work hard – but this hard? The desire to be in on it was unbearable. She wondered if it was possible that these men thought her to be a bigger threat off-course; perhaps she was evaluating them? The thought had made her laugh inwardly. It was amusing, not to mention flattering and empowering, to know that she could also be a mental threat. But even that sop to her ego would not sate the craving to spar. It was nothing like she'd ever felt before.

Dark eyes locked on the bruise staining her reflection's throat, Skylar's mind drifted back toward Spock. She had not spoken to him all day, and he had not tried to contact her. He was either feeling guilty (though he'd probably never admit it) and was choosing to give her space, or he was … he was being weird, as he had been for the past few days.

Unwillingly, Skylar thought about last night. She had tried not to let her mind wander back into that territory, but the bruise was a glaring signpost pointing her mind in the wrong direction. What had happened to her? More importantly, what had happened to Spock? She knew perfectly well what kind of lover he was; his Vulcan attributes made him that much more powerful and aggressive in any sexual encounter. His emotions, pent up all of the time, were allowed to peek out at her through a tiny window. It was scary and romantic, all at the same time. Making love to Spock was anything but ordinary. He was rough … but it was a kind of rough that Skylar enjoyed. It was a rough that Skylar could handle … except for last night.

There had always been a niggling urge within her to say something to Spock along the lines of, "Just let go." Skylar couldn't help but want to open Pandora's Box. Diving headfirst into situations had gotten her through growing up among rough crowds. It had saved her in painful situations … most of the time. Skylar had always found a way to overcome an obstacle, regardless of how much she had to sacrifice or break the rules. But somehow she'd met her match in Spock. Last night's encounter with him proved that tenfold.

Skylar had itched to see his full potential, but the Box's contents had proved considerably scarier than she had imagined. Perhaps it was because Spock had always maintained a modicum of control. He was always present. Last night, Skylar had no idea who she'd slept with. Or made love to. Or who had raped her. Whoever this being was, and whatever it was that he'd done to her, she knew that it wasn't Spock. And for the first time in a long time, Skylar was genuinely frightened. The embarrassment of the bruising had come and gone; the painful jab to her pride would heal. But Skylar was uncertain of everything else. What was happening to Spock? And when she discovered that, what would happen to her?

As tears leaked from her eyes, Skylar's fist smashed into the mirror. Her mouth fell open in confusion – she'd had no control over the movement. An overwhelming wave of pain swirled out from her knuckles and up her arm as shards of glass clattered gently to the floor, each glinting mockingly as it reflected fractured images of her weakness. Blood began to ooze from the wound with each throb of her heart, and she seized her injured fist in her other hand as she clutched it to her stomach, sinking slowly to the floor.

:::::

When Nyota Uhura walked onto the bridge, it was apparent that something was not right. The relief for Sulu and Chekov sat rigid in their seats while Jim, facing away from her, sat tapping his fingers expectantly on the arm of his chair, his attention focused on Spock. For once, Spock was not riveted by his scanner; he now stood just as rigid, his arms crossed over his chest as he focused on the main viewing screen. Nyota shot a quick, covert glance at the screen, noting nothing but stars, before grabbing the ear piece off of her console and taking a seat. Within a moment of her silver-manicured finger touching the monitor screen to pull up her log-in chart, Nyota stiffened at a very firm demand from the Vulcan commander.

"You have yet to give me any logical elucidation as to why it would be inappropriate for the ship to dock sooner than scheduled."

Nyota turned stealthily in her chair just as Jim forcefully slapped a hand onto the armrest. "Commander, as I've explained to you, the orders from Starfleet specifically stated that we dock at 1500 hours. That was the time designated by the Trill ambassador. I am following orders."

"But how negative would the repercussions be for a captain without a sense of exquisite punctuality?" Spock questioned, maintaining an even tone. Nyota watched his hands behind his back: one was tightly circling the wrist of the other. "And honestly, Jim, by your standards, when have you ever thoroughly abided by the rules given to you?"

"When have you ever been hell-bent on bending them?" Jim returned with force. "Spock, showing up early for this meeting could look horribly suspicious. My ship is on the line here. We are supposed to be setting a good example for the Federation."

"And by your beliefs, is not absolute punctuality a correlation of what would be deemed a good example?"

Jim shot to his feet, hands balled into fists at his sides. "Commander, I'd like to have a word with you. In private. Now." His tone was completely beyond his years. Nyota nearly had to double-take to make certain it was still James T. Kirk doing the speaking.

For a suspended moment, Spock did not move. It seemed as if everything on the bridge – the personnel, the beeps and other various noises – had all ceased existing for a second. All attention was focused on the center of the bridge, where both Jim and Spock stood in their own dramatic spotlights.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to see how very obviously upset Jim was. But despite the Vulcan's facade of emotionlessness, Nyota knew enough to read his tone and his posture; Spock was very much upset as well. As everyone, including the Enterprise itself, seemed to be holding their breaths, Spock spun on his heel and headed toward the turbo lift, with Jim close behind. Without a visual indication to anyone in particular, Jim barked over his shoulder, "Back to stations as usual, people," and the bridge sprang back to life with a jolt.