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Special thanks to beta Notes from the Classroom. Check out her most recent: Crossing the Equator for Pike/Number One and Spock/Uhura yumminess.

Happily

Deep Space Nine is not complete yet. In the Palace of the Bajoran High Premier, Ambassador Nyota Uhura, sits at the desk in her borrowed office and stares down hard at the data on her PADD.

A breeze blows through the open window, warm, fresh and heavy with the recent rain.

Nyota squints hard at the numbers. Not seeing what she wants to see, she plugs in some ear buds and begins listening to the static.

Nothing.

Threading a finger through a loose curl by her ear, she pulls and lets go. The gentle sensation of her hair recoiling against her scalp makes her sit up straight and frown. The nervous habit of playing with her curls is oneof the reasons she straightens her hair. The other reason is that straight hair is predictable, orderly, easy to manage. Put it up in a pony tail and you're done.

But today she got caught in the rain on her way to work. She can feel her hair sneaking into rebellious and unpredictable waves and ringlets at her crown. She's afraid to look at the pony tail, now low near the nape of her neck. There her hair is undoubtedly a giant puff of frizz.

There's a low click in her ear buds. Quickly pressing the buds tighter to her head, she hits a few buttons on her pad. The sound augments and she's listening to some Ferrengis discuss latinum. She sighs.

"I detect nothing of the Dominion in the readings from the most recent Gamma Quadrant either," says T'Elle, guessing the reasons for Nyota's disappointment.

T'Elle knows Nyota very well. They served together on Romulus during The Operation. Disguised as Romulans for two years, they operated a safe house for Federation agents, their similar features making it easy to pass as family.

In two years even Vulcans open up a bit, especially if they are unbonded. Nyota trusts and respects T'Elle. What's more, she likes T'Elle very much. Which is why when Starfleet Intelligence put her up for this posting she insisted on T'Elle as her assistant.

"Our surveillance is so limited right now," Nyota says, and their efforts to find the Dominion, identified by Spock the Elder as the worst threat from the Gamma quadrant, are hampered by it.

"When the space station is complete, we will have more data to work with," says T'Elle.

Nodding, Nyota reaches towards a half empty, luke-warm cup of Lar on her desk. It's the Cardassian equivalent of tea, and she's become addicted.

Looking up from her own PADD, T'Elle says, "You require more refreshment. I will go make some."

"You don't have to do that," Nyota says.

Rising from her chair she says, "No, I do not." She turns and leaves the room and Nyota smiles at the matter-of-fact Vulcan woman. T'Elle does this every morning at 10:00 without fail.

Standing, Nyota stretches and then falls back down into her chair. She bends over the PADD again.

"Hey, I'm going to a Bajoran wedding tonight; wanna come?"

Almost dropping her PADD, Nyota looks up to see Jim Kirk leaning on the frame in her doorway. He's put on some weight, thankfully. When she looks at him she doesn't have to hide her worry, doesn't have to think too much about what he went through here on Bajor. She may have lived two years constantly afraid, but he did too, and at least her belly was full.

"Well?" he says, leaning against the door frame. He's in the familiar command yellow, but his blue eyes are blinking through wire rimmed reading glasses, and his dark blonde hair is a little mussed in front. He's been pouring over the space station schematics again, she can tell. In the week she's been here she's hardly seen him, he's a virtual whirlwind, busy overseeing the construction of the space station. She's seen him like this before, when he got command of the Enterprise, and at the Academy, too. Oh, at the Academy he put on an air of false bravado, but Nyota caught him plenty of times hiding out in the book stacks, nose buried in original sources. The act of feigned indifference to his studies used to make her furious. The truth is, when he wants something, Jim Kirk is a man on fire, completely single minded, driven, not at all afraid to roll up his sleeves and go the distance. Heaven help anyone who tries to get in his way.

She looks down at her PADD. A Bajoran wedding...it sounds interesting...but with Jim? She prefers him in clearly defined circumstances and settings where she knows the terrain. "No," she says, licking her lips, "I have a lot of work to do."

"Oh, come on," Jim says. "Even I know when to take a break. And this is a great opportunity to hear lots of slang left over from the Romulan occupation..."

She looks up. He's not leaning on the door anymore. He's standing upright, his glasses are off, he's a little closer to her desk and he looks, well, pissed. "Or was that just some feigned interest you made up to pad your CV and make yourself sound all academic, or something?"

"What?" Slamming her PADD on her desk, Nyota stands up fast. "No!"

"Then prove it!" Kirk says.

She can feel her temperature rising, but the truth is, it is a great opportunity. Bajoran weddings are family affairs and a great place to see people acting natural. It will probably be years before she's befriended anyone well enough to be invited to one again.

Narrowing her eyes, she says, "Fine, I'll come."

His posture relaxes immediately. "Great, I'll pick you up at 19:00."

She scowls at him, but he turns around so fast and is out the door she's not sure he noticed.

Flopping down in her chair, she picks up her PADD and threads a finger through a curl.

"By the way..." She looks up and there is Kirk, head poking in her doorway. "I like your hair like that." He makes a crazy curly motion with one hand. "It's softer. More natural."

He just can't stop, he hasto add insult to injury. Narrowing her eyes again, she says, "Get. Out."

But he's already gone. From out of sight his voice echoes down the hall. "See you at 19:00!"

She huffs and gets back to work.

Later she's with T'Elle in the powder room. They're straightening their hair after a walk outside during their lunch break - Vulcan hair does in fact get rumpled, especially on a windy day. Nyota's own hair... she tilts her head. Actually, even with the windblown look it's much more flattering than she expected. Where it's pulled tight over her head the tiny wavelets are giving it a nice texture. And the horrible frizz she imagined in the back is more a soft black cloud of curls.

She's just tucking back a few errant strands when it hits her.

"I'm going to a Bajoran wedding...on a date...with Jim Kirk."

T'Elle looks at her. "A fascinating opportunity to hear examples of Romulan slang among native speakers."

"But I'm going … with Jim Kirk. He...tries to sleep with everyone." Well, except with his crew; he never messed up that rule of his, but Nyota's not even remotely under his command now. Where exactly does she stand?

T'Elle stiffens, tilts her head. "Do you think your person is in any danger?"

Nyota shakes her head. "No, he's not like that."

T'Elle's frame relaxes and she turns back to the mirror. "Then there is no problem."

Nyota sighs. "You don't understand. It's obnoxious...he'll ask..." She rolls her eyes.

"Then say no," says T'Elle patting down the traditional Vulcan robe she's wearing and exiting the room.

Nyota frowns. Vulcans, even those who bend their logic in moral directions, are not ones for empathy. Those who bend their logic towards immoral aims...she shakes her head.

x x x x

Later that evening as she's getting ready to go, she realizes just how elegant Kirk's little trap was. Coming by when T'Elle wasn't around - that had to be premeditated. And then the fact that it's a wedding...of course Nyota's going to make every effort to look her best.

If he thinks this evening will go anywhere he is quite mistaken.

She's actually a little perplexed though. Why now, all of a sudden, is he making the attempt?

Maybe it was the way she helped him get the position of Deep Space Nine Commander? Well, she might have been a little extra protective because of Spock's derisive comment, "The Roach." Even the memory of it makes her feel ashamed that she had ever been involved with Spock, that she ever let him into her heart or her bed. There was Kirk, looking for all the galaxy like a man recovering from radiation sickness, and Spock kicked him when he was down, without sympathy. It was a maneuver of jealousy - logic uniformed by morality or empathy for Nyota's feelings on the matter.

She shakes her head. But mostly she was acting on cold analysis of the facts by Starfleet Intelligence. Kirk is the right man for the job. Spock is a genius, but his ability as a leader, especially of people of diverse backgrounds, is suspect. What's more, Kirk has the support of both the Bajorans and Cardassians, and in this sector that is an immense benefit - especially since in the other Spock's universe the two species had been at each others' throats.

She checks her appearance in the mirror one last time, smooths down the front of the dark emerald green dress she has on and straightens the gauzy translucent sleeves. Translucent is acceptable on Bajor, sleeveless would not be. The top is fitted, extremely fitted, which again is appropriate here, although showing skin is frowned upon. The bottom is long but loose, layers of a cotton-like fabric with a soft sheen and more gauze. She hasn't straightened her hair. She's just pulled the pony tail up into a neat bun at the nape of her neck.

The doorbell rings and Nyota goes to answer it. Completely expecting Jim to be wearing his trademark smirk, she's a little taken back by his appearance. He's smiling, but it's more the smile he had when the Enterprise first launched after he was given his captaincy, like he's happy, confidant, but can't quite believe he's here. And he's not wearing his dress uniform, he's wearing Bajoran clothes - similar in cut to traditional Chinese wear, in a subdued gray. In his ear he's wearing one of the elaborate earrings the Bajoran's wear.

Touching the earring he says, "This and the clothes were gifts from my Bajoran friends. It seemed polite to wear them. When on Bajor, right?"

Nyota nodds and then he does smirk. Touching the bridge of his nose he says, "But I'm not going under the knife again to get the nose ridges I wore during the occupation. I don't care how naked they say I look without them."

Smiling despite herself, Nyota says, "I don't blame you."

His eyes narrow slightly and he says, "Yes, I imagine you know something about cosmetic surgery to fit in with the locals."

She keeps her smile, but it's forced. "I'm sure I don't."

He takes a breath, "No...You do know I would never joke about that with anyone else around?"

She doesn't answer, just looks at him. It is important to her safety that no one know of her involvement.

"Well, I won't," he says. "But let's talk about your basket weaving hobbies now. Anything about our friends from the Dominion?"

Of course SI has filled him in on her role and the Dominion now that he is the Commander of DS9.

Nyota sighs, takes the arm that he's suddenly put out for her, and proceeds to tell him of her inadequate data woes. He's very solicitous, asks for her opinion on DS9's communication arrays and tells her about some interesting developments he's read about in long distance probe technology. They discuss the potential for stealth buoys in the Gamma Quadrant.

Before she knows it they're at the wedding and Jim is introducing her to what seems to be half the population of Bajor's main city - and prompting them all to give examples of Romulan slang that's entered their daily lives. Bajorans are pretty easy going, and they do, telling things that make her blush and laugh in equal measure.

And then the fire ceremony begins and the jovial atmosphere changes to an expectant hush. It's beautiful and wondrous, and Nyota is sure any future obnoxious offers are completely worth it.

x x x x

Seven years and nine months after meeting Jim Kirk in a bar in Iowa, Nyota Uhura kisses him under a Bajoran moon. There is alcohol involved, but frankly not that much.

It happens like this. After the Bajoran wedding fire and water ceremony the bride, groom and guests - all 100 of them, leave the temple and join the rest of the other 250 guests outside. There is toasting, and drinking, and food - Bajoran and Cardassian. There are a fair number of Cardassians in attendance, but she and Jim are the only humans and Nyota knows it is a rare treat to be here. There is much poking fun at the smooth bridges of her and Jim's noses.

It's close to midnight when the music starts. Nyota finds herself pulled from her seat by laughing Bajoran and Cardassian women and girls. She turns her head and sees Jim dragged off with Bajoran and Cardassian men, but then she's sucked into a wild dance with the female members of the party that seems half ballet, half belly dance. Nyota loves all types of dance - and while on Bajor, right? She joins in, with happy abandon, and when the music begins to slow hours later she realizes that her cheeks hurt nearly as much as her feet - she's been smiling so much. She hasn't had this much fun...since, since forever. Not at prepatory school or the Academy certainly, she was too poor, and working too hard. And with Spock, well, Spock would have found a way to duck out before the dancing, if he'd even managed to get an invitation in the first place.

Some firecrackers go off somewhere. The group of women and girls she is in thins, and suddenly there are men there, and they're pressing their prominent nose bridges against the nose bridges of their sweethearts. Nyota even sees an old Bajoran man press his bridged nose to the nose of an elderly Cardassian woman and she laughs happily along with everyone else.

She turns her head and there's Kirk and he's got that smile again. That smile that's not a leer, or a smirk, that first assignment aboard the Enterprise smile. He raises his arms in invitation and and she shrugs, a sure, why not shrug. She's just so full of the happiness of the crowd, the spirit of the event, of life. And when on Bajor, right? Stepping right up to him she presses her forehead to his forehead, the tip of her nose to the tip of his nose, and she laughs.

And then she feels his hands on her back, not too low, and it's funny how this all feels right. Her mouth just seems to drift of its own accord to his, because they may be on Bajor, but they're still humans. It's just going to be a friendly, innocent kiss. If he thinks it's going anywhere further he's verymistaken.

As soon as their lips touch, Nyota feels a jolt through the base of her spine that doesn't feel so innocent. She shouldn't be surprised that Jim's such a good kisser, that his lips, dry, warm, not as hot as she's used to, just seem to connect so perfectly with hers, that he moves them so delicately and expertly against her own; he's had plenty of practice, after all. She shouldn't let it go to her head, or other places, really.

She expects him to slip in his tongue, and she would find that a little too much in this crowd, even if he's so good at this she's really tempted. But he doesn't do that. She feels his hand on the back of her neck and he pulls his lips away and presses his forehead to hers. It's...appropriate, maybe even sweet, and she shouldn't be disappointed.

The music starts up again, and there is the sound of cheering. The crowd is suddenly thick around them again. Nyota is pulled backwards by hands on her shoulder and small hands on her arms. She looks up at Jim's eyes, really expecting to see the leer this time, but he's not even smiling. His eyes are locked on hers, his brow is a little knotted, and he's being pulled backwards by two laughing Cardassians.

Nyota finds herself sucked into the whirlwind dance again, and it's still wonderful, and fun, and she's still smiling, but this time she finds herself trying to spot Jim in the crowd.

She doesn't really see him again until the sun is blooming on the Eastern horizon. They say their goodbyes to everyone, and Nyota finds herself on the receiving end of plenty of hugs from new friends. They're practically the only ones left when Jim turns to her and says, "Well, I guess I should take you home."

She blinks. That's it? No smirking offer of more companionship?

He brings his hand up to the back of his neck, looks away and says, "Unless -"

And Nyota smiles smugly. Here it comes, and she is so ready to say No.

But then still looking away he says, "I know this place where they have the best Lar on the planet. It's not quite open yet, but if we walk a block or so that way, and then along the beach, by the time we get there it will just be opening."

She scowls, looks down. Actually...

"That does sound...kind of nice," she says, which she doesn't mean really as yes, she's actually just speaking her thoughts aloud, because she's a little confused.

Before she can say no he takes her hand and says, "Great." As he leads her away from the wedding grounds she stares at their entwined fingers, his calloused, ruddy, and dwarfing hers; it's the only sign that things aren't quite the way that they were.

*To be continued*

A/N:
A little T'Elle / Uhura background appears in my one-shot "5 Times, What Would Surak Say?" …if you're interested and want more angst and a glimpse at Spock's motivations, check it out.

It's hard to write happy. I hope I pulled it off. If it made you happy, please leave a review. Reviews help keep us fanfic authors writing.