He rarely ever dreamed, but this night, he did.
There were not so many images as there were sounds, the recognition of which seeming to be just out of his grasp, as he looked into the texture of the ceiling above, his own even breath the only noise he heard now. He assumed it was due to the break in routine of his nightly meditation, as with such control over his subconscious, rampant and muddled visions were almost not possible if he did not, for some reason, wish for them. He had not done so, and yet he laid awake in the darkness of pre-dawn, contemplating.
He felt for himself, felt his fingers in his sheets, felt his hair sticking up at the crown of his head, as he generally found it when he awoke. His heart was steady in his side while he turned to look upon the empty space in what he once thought to be a pointlessly large bed, but overall, he felt the calm he always did at this time of morning, hours prior to the world around joining him in full alertness.
Unable to close his eyes again, he rose to dress for the day and prepared his morning tea, which he took onto the balcony that had seen little use since he inhabited the space. The sky was as grey as it was blue, the promise of yet another bout of rain on the horizon while the sun began to peak over it, but the thick fog of the city did not stretch so far as the serenity he felt in the stillness and quiet, and he was content.
It was warmer than it had been the day before, and given that he had risen nearly a full hour earlier than was normal for him, he padded off into the hallway to pull his boots on, and head for the small park that was set into the middle of campus. The smell of wet grass was still something of a novelty to him, and he did not find it unwarranted to acclimate himself to it when there were no other pressing matters to be attended. He walked unhurried along the sidewalk, utterly undisturbed until he saw the slight figure of a woman sitting on one side of a bench at the entrance of the park he sought. She looked up at him as he drew nearer to her, and with a soft smile, picked up the PADD she had placed on her opposite side for him to replace it with himself. The smell of her coffee was escaping through the lid of the metal cup she held in her hands, and he watched her tap the toe of her shoe on the concrete after she had turned a bit to face him. Her voice blended into the damp air around them in a most pleasant way when she said,
"G'Morning."
"Good morning."
"Are you always up this early?"
"Nearly, yes. Yourself?"
"Almost never. I'm not much of a morning person, but… I didn't sleep very well."
"To be truthful, I did not either."
"Really? I'm sorry."
"You apologize far too often for circumstantial occurrences outside of your control."
"I know."
She did not further expand, and silence passed between them again, as they watched a bunny shuffle through the grass nearby until it was no longer in view, having joined its many relatives in the trails, or so he imagined. She gave a sigh when it left them, and the sound gave him a flash of something he could not place, much like a memory he did not have, but that he remembered nonetheless. He was unable to think on it long before his peripheral vision caught her thumb running over the lip of her cup.
"So…um…"
"Yes?"
"Do you… know where you want to go for dinner later?"
"Do you have a preference?"
"No, not really. Something with a good amount of vegetarian options?"
"That would be appreciated."
"Mhm. Well… there's a Vietnamese place over by headquarters that I haven't been to in a while. We'd have to take the bus, though."
"I will drive you."
"Oh that's right, I forgot. Why do you even have a car? You walk pretty much everywhere."
"It was given to me as a part of my salary when I accepted the position as First Officer, as a trip to the shipyard is a monthly requirement. Although, you are correct in that it would be more logical for me to take a shuttle when my presence is needed, given how infrequently the vehicle is used otherwise."
"It would shorten the trip quite a bit, I bet."
"By over an hour. A fact which was mentioned—"
"And promptly ignored."
"Yes."
"That's unfortunate."
He nodded, though he neither agreed nor disagreed, and focused on his hands in his lap to keep from staring, while she pulled her feet up under her in the way she always did when she sat somewhere for more than a moment. He wondered if the caffeine in her drink was what made her so restless, as she consumed an average of three cups daily while in his company during working hours, and if this morning were any indication, this was not her limit.
"Have you always drunk coffee so habitually?"
"Since I was in highschool. Now I feel like I can barely function without it."
"That may be because caffeine has been proven to be highly addictive. My mother has an intense affinity for the beverage."
"Have you ever tried it?"
"I have not."
"Well… there's a first for everything."
She turned the cup toward him, wrapping her hand around the very bottom of it so as to minimize the likelihood of touching his skin, and he took it from her.
The moment it went across his tongue, he had a strange compulsion to spit it back out again, which he of course, did not indulge, but his expression, however minute, was more difficult to contain, and he was sure this was the cause of her smile.
"That is exceptionally sweet."
"Is hate for sugar just a Vulcan thing?"
"Hate in itself is not a Vulcan 'thing', though it can be said that most do not take sugar in much, if anything."
"Well, I love it, and take it in everything."
"Then I believe the correct response would be that, if you are so fond… perhaps you should marry it."
He had heard this said before, and was gratified by her look of shock at what he supposed was a joke, her laughter ringing through the small field they were in before lightening lit up the sky, the subsequent thunder being loud enough to make her jump on the bench. She grabbed the PADD she had brought when they stood, and he followed her toward the student building as light raindrops began to fall on their shoulders. It was a very short walk, and he bid her farewell after she had refused to allow him to escort her from where they were to his car when it came time for their evening, claiming that she could meet him at his quarters without the 'extra effort' on his part.
Sitting at the desk in his bedroom, he queued a hail to Vulcan on his subspace unit, a sense of newfound nervousness forcing him to think hard on keeping his leg from bouncing on the carpet. It would be late evening there, but he was not surprised when the concerned face of his mother appeared before him.
"Spock? Is everything alright?"
"Yes. I wondered if I might ask you a series of questions regarding human dining customs."
"Still one to jump right into things, I see. Tell me how you've been, please, first."
"Mother, I have—"
"Please?"
"I am still consuming an average of 3,500 calories per day. My active duty injury has healed completely. My students are progressing adequately. I am still of the same rank. I drank coffee for the first time today. I have asked a human woman to join me for dinner tonight, and I need your help."
She was silent for 6 seconds, her face an almost identical mask of shock as the other he had recently seen, and he did not attempt to stop his foot from tapping on the floor, as it was a habit she knew he had struggled with. Her eyes followed the movement, and her expression morphed into one of sympathy.
"Oh, my boy," she sighed, and placed her hand on the screen before dropping it again. "What do you want to know?"
"What should I do?"
"That depends, honey. Who is it?"
"My teaching assistant."
"Cadet Uhura? Are you sure you're allowed to—"
"It is not as you think. She has been a very proficient aid, and I wish to thank her for it."
"So, she's going as your friend, then."
"She… Pardon?"
"Your friend, son. You speak of her nearly every time you speak to me. She's your friend, yes?"
"I am uncertain."
"You spend more time with her than anyone else you currently know, correct?"
"Yes."
"Does this bother you?"
"Not at all."
"Does this bother her?"
"I do not believe so."
"Then, given every other thing you've said about her, she's your friend. Would I be incorrect to assume that you wish her to be more than that?"
"As I am her commanding officer, that would be highly unethical."
"To be sure, but you did not answer the question."
"I did."
"Spock, allow me to take this time to remind you that I am your mother, but I will not press you. Now, sit still, and tell me what you plan to wear."
1 hour and 18 minutes later, he had ended the transmission, and now stood in front of his mirror, 25 minutes before Cadet Uhura was set to arrive. At his mother's suggestion, he had meditated on the reasoning behind his anxiety, but it had been inconclusive. They had taken meals in the presence of each other every Monday and Wednesday for an amount of time that should not make this any different, though the variables certainly were.
They had always been in uniform then, but this time, they would not be.
There was always a professional purpose then, to discuss work or their schedules, but this time, there would not be.
There was never any apprehension behind their meetings then, but this time, it simply could not be eradicated.
He was on his couch reviewing a staffing conflict sent to him so untimely by Captain Pike, when he heard her familiar footsteps outside, and shortly after, inside his front door, as it was never locked, so he stood, but could not move again for a moment when she came into his line of vision. Her dress was rather tight, but not overly so, coming to stop just below her knees in a deep green that suited her skin tone very well. He found that he much preferred her hair down, and it was, hanging low on her back, as her fingers worried at one of her golden earrings.
"Earth to Commander Spock. Are you ready?"
"Yes. I am. You look very nice."
"So do you! You're wearing a tie!"
A tie that was suddenly much tighter than it had been, so he merely nodded, cursing his speechlessness.
"Shall we?"
"After you, sir."
He had not noticed the restaurant before, a wonder considering it was, as she had said, quite close to headquarters, but the drive had calmed him somewhat. She talked animatedly throughout it about various things, ranging from her afternoon at a shopping mall with her Orion roommate, to her parents' reaction when she had informed them, over what was apparently a weekly phone call, of her plans with an ambassador's son. It was very similar to his mother's initial assumptions on the matter, but he did not mention it. She had continued during their dinner, which was admittedly not as objectionable as he thought it might be, and now there they sat, her with an elaborate drink at her side, he satisfied to do nothing more than listen. That is, until she had recommended they play a game.
"It's like 20 Questions, only I'm going to ask you ten, and you should answer them."
"Should I?"
"Yes, please. You're in charge of keeping count, and we'll start with something super easy. Do you have a favorite color?"
"One. No."
"Do you have a least favorite color?"
"Two. No."
"You're already bad at this game, how is that?"
"I have answered two questions, so far."
"Hardly! When is your birthday?"
"On Earth, or on Vulcan?"
"Earth."
"Three. January 6th, 2230."
"Oh, that's coming up soon, good to know. Vulcans don't really celebrate birthdays though, do they?"
"Four. No."
"That doesn't count!"
"It was posed as a question, was it not?"
"Ugh, fine. Um… if I put less sugar in my coffee, would you try it again?"
"Five. No."
"God," she laughed, and slumped back into her seat. "Do you have a favorite—or no, do you have a most preferred song, and if so, what is it?"
"Six and seven. I cannot choose a single one, though, since I have been labeled as 'bad' at this game, I will elaborate and say that, surprisingly, I prefer Terran genres over Vulcan ones."
"Really?"
"Eight. Yes."
"Spock! I'm almost out already, and then it's your turn. Okay. Um… oh, this one is easy. Are you having fun? No, wait, scratch that. Are you having a pleasant evening?"
"Nine. Yes."
"Good, I'm glad. I am, too… I actually have another one in my head, but I'm not sure if I should ask it."
"Why not?"
"Well, I'm trying to think of a way to phrase it that will… allow you, I guess… to answer it."
"What do you mean?"
"It's just—it… It's kind of emotional."
"I see."
"Mhm. Um…"
"You are welcome to ask it, though I cannot guarantee an answer."
"No, no, I get it. Well… I know that living on Earth has been a pretty big adjustment for you, so… What do you miss most about Vulcan?"
She had, indeed, been correct in her assessment of emotionalism, but his mind turned it over anyway. He spoke with his mother regularly enough that he did not have much of a reason to miss her, given that. He had not spoken at all to his father in many years, and nothing but disappointment would follow an admission of longing for it, if he did. The thought of his former bondmate almost never crossed his thoughts, and his commitment to her was genuinely the only thing that held him back from travelling far outside of Shi'Kahr, let alone off planet, and he most assuredly did not miss her, the feeling being entirely mutual. The question made him a bit uncomfortable, but he had no wish to make her feel so.
"Ten… I cannot say."
"Okay." She nodded loosely, releasing her lip from her teeth just long enough to say, "Your turn."
He had asked her close to all of the same questions on their drive back to the academy regarding her preferences, and she had asked him nine more of her own on the walk back to her dorm block. The roads and sidepaths were crowded, as it was a Saturday evening, but he did not mind it, and they moved so closely together, he had had to put his hands in his pockets to avoid bumping into her own while they turned the last corner to the student building. She stepped up only a single stair this time to address him in the same quiet voice she always did when they stood in the spot.
"Thank you for taking me tonight. I had a lot of fun, even though you suck at both asking, and answering questions that don't have anything to do with starships."
"The purpose of the evening was to thank you, and I apologize."
"No, I was just kidding. But really… you didn't have to do this for me."
"It was hardly an inconvenience. You are my friend."
Her hands, which had been pulling at a loose string, froze.
"You… I am?"
"That is officially twenty questions, and I believe you are."
"No, I—Yes. Of course, I am. Of course."
"Then it would be logical to ask if I will see you tomorrow."
She gave him the smile he was hoping for, shifting back and forth on her feet, and he wished she would bring her eyes up from them.
"Yes, it would."
"Will I?"
"Yeah. Yeah, just… call me tomorrow?"
"I will."
"Okay… Tomorrow." She ran her palm down the sleeve of his jacket, and he felt himself both tense, and lean into her in an odd contradiction, as she said, "Goodnight, Spock."
"Goodnight."
He watched her walk halfway up the stairs, he himself taking three steps toward the direction they had come, and stopped. He heard all the things he had the previous evening. The animals. The trees. The water. He saw the moon above him, as essential to life on this planet as any of those things, dulling in comparison to the fullness and brightness of her. He had learned so many things about her in the span of a singular evening, and earnestly felt that, were she anyone else, he would not have listened. Would not have asked, or seen, or heard.
But she was not.
"Nyota."
Before his mind could justify the action, he was taking the stairs two at a time, his heart hammering, as he caught her at the door to the building, and gripped her fingers in his to turn her back around to him. He heard her pull in a breath just before he reached her, and her eyes were wide, but the moment their skin touched, her expression burst into one he could not make, but that was bombarding her though the psionic connections in his fingertips. Excitement. Elation.
"The heat."
"The… What?"
"The heat is what I miss. The temperature."
She nodded with a smile wide enough that he could see her perfect, human teeth, and he felt the corners of his mouth pull back slightly in response to it, but could not clear it away in time, her back to him again, as she disappeared behind the waiting door.
His body floated him back to his apartment, disconnected, and with his hands in his pockets, his eyes on the clear light of Space Dock in the stars, he sent his mother, across the bond they shared, a feeling he had not had with such untethered strength since he was a child.
He was extremely, unrestrictedly, happy.