A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who is continuing to stick with me and review consistently, it's helpful to see how your perceptions change as the story progresses. Nearly 100 reviews; get in! I've never had that many reviews for one story before! ^_^

Special thanks go out to TFTSS and Kalanel for their continued awesomeness!!

If you find the dialogue a bit jarring in the middle section please let me know as I'm still not yet decided on whether to keep it raw as it is or to add in my usual spades of narrative, LOL.

Paralyzer - 6. Kindle

Spock did not look up from his work as Cadet Franklin sauntered into the office and dropped into the chair facing his desk. "Good morning, Tom. I trust from your manner of entrance that your weekend was an eventful one."

Franklin leaned back in his seat and beamed. "Sir, you have no idea."

You would be surprised.

Unaware of Spock's practically invisible, wry smile, Franklin continued,"I've been trying to get Ensign Mwabe to notice me for weeks, but I could never get up the courage to ask her out. In the club on Friday though, I don't know what came over me, but I just went straight up to her and kissed her." He whistled appreciatively under his breath. "Man, she can kiss." He shook himself from the memory and looked across the table at Spock. "What happened to you anyway, Sir? I came up for air and you'd gone."

Spock had looked up curiously at Franklin's suggestion that something may have affected his confidence that night. He was unable to resist drawing a parallel to his own, similar boldness regarding the way in which he had flirted with Nyota; a human practice that he had never indulged in prior to that night. "Something... pressing required my attention, I apologize for leaving without informing you."

Franklin waved a dismissive hand and reached for one of the PADDs sitting on Spock's desk that was marked for his attention. "Don't worry about it, I understand if it wasn't really your scene."

Spock didn't say a word, thinking it wiser to allow Franklin to believe he had left because he had not enjoyed himself, than to defend his reason for leaving. That would raise more questions than he was comfortable answering. The two lapsed into comfortable silence, the only sound to be heard that of styluses on PADD screens as they plowed through the day's submitted reports.

A chirrup from the comm terminal in Spock's desk broke the silence and he leaned to glance at the sender's digital signature. He turned to look at Franklin. "Tom, would you mind if I took this in private?"

Franklin stood and stretched. "Sure, no problem; I was going to suggest I get us a drink from the mess anyway. You want a spiced tea?"

Spock nodded once, "Please. I propose you take a break for nourishment, as I do not know how long this communication will take."

Franklin nodded and headed for the door. "Okay, I'll bring your tea back with me."

Once the other man was out of the room, Spock returned his attention to the screen of his comm terminal, flicking the switch to accept the incoming transmission. It was Lieutenant Commander Dyson, contacting him from his quarters and looking appropriately puffy in the face.

"Commander Dyson, how do you fare with your affliction?"

Dyson sneezed wetly into a tissue and glared at the screen. "Badly. Look, Spock, I'm very sorry that I'm in no fit state to bat pleasantries around with you, so I'll be brief. Cadet Uhura sent me a message this morning asking to be removed from your xenoliguistics student pool. She didn't give me a reason and I didn't ask her for one - I can barely concentrate enough to see straight, let alone get pulled into debate by one of my brightest kids. The bottom line is that you can't let her; Uhura is a ridiculously talented linguistic mimic, she learns fast, faster than many of her peers and she needs the best tutors we can give her." He broke off to blow his nose to the tune of a badly clogged trumpet and Spock took the opportunity to voice his confusion.

"Commander, I do not understand. If Cadet Uhura wishes to be removed from my tutelage before we have even begun, surely there is someone else she can be assigned to." He kept his tone carefully neutral; Nyota had made it abundantly clear that she desired to be no where near him, he would not use his position of power to overrule her wishes.

"The point is, Spock, that there are only three of us on this campus that have the experience with Romulan to teach her; that's Chang, that's me and that's you. Chang is up to his eyeballs in fourth years and I'm up to my eyeballs in my own phlegm; that leaves you as the only person able to give her the stimulus she needs." He paused, took a deep breath and started massaging his own temples. "Also, she has a tendency to go off on wild tangents which, while great for exploratory research, has a terrible knock on effect with her analytical work. I think you'd be a good influence on her, in regards to the fact that you could probably get her to focus."

Spock cocked his head curiously, "This is an area in which you have failed?"

Dyson grinned, taking the statement as a complement in his peculiarly human way, "Completely, she reminds me of how exciting linguistics can be by being so pleased with everything she learns; I'm ashamed to say I do indulge her a bit too much. The problem is that she needs to focus that nervous energy if she's going to pass the Romulan module to the high standard I expect from her."

Spock nodded slowly. "If she will not agree to be taught by me, what do you suggest I do?"

"Fight for her, make her see that she needs you if she's going to succeed." Glancing off screen at the sound of his door chime, Dyson missed Spock's hard blink as he tried to stop the other man's words from echoing around his head, 'fight for her, make her see that she needs you'.

"Spock, I have to go, my latest batch of decongestants have arrived and by crikey I need to jack myself up on these bad boys. Good luck!" He signed off, the parting image on screen that of a man dashing for a hit of nasal spray.

Spock sighed heavily, hoping that Franklin would return quickly with the tea. He found he was suddenly in need of calming.

-UFP-

"This is a bad idea."

"I beg to differ, this is the only logical arrangement given the current situation."

"You know what I mean."

"Cadet, if you are unable to act in a professional manner, I am sure I could find a method to keep you in your seat and out of mine."

"... You didn't just flirt with me."

"Vulcans do not flirt."

"You clearly do. In fact if memory serves, it was you who looked at me like I was some sort of tasty Vulcan hors d'oeuvre, then proceeded to take me outside and pin me up against a wall."

"I was under the impression that you wished to relegate that experience to the past. Now I suggest that you concentrate on the matter at hand."

"It'd help if you didn't stand so close. I can... smell you."

"I apologize if my scent is unpleasant, I will endeavor to mask it the next time we meet."

"It's not bad, it's just... distracting."

"Distracting?"

"I'm not going there, Spock. Remind me why we need to do this tuition privately? Is there something wrong with teaching us all as a group?"

"Not at all, we will be having a group session tomorrow in fact. Commander Dyson thought it best for you and I to work privately on developing your third Romulan dialect. The other students assigned to me are still working on the second."

"Where's your assistant?"

"Cadet Franklin is a Stellar Cartography major, his skill set would be useless here even if I did invite him to join us."

"I'd just feel better if there was someone else here with us."

"Are you suggesting that I cannot keep myself in check in your company?"

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting; look what happened the last time we were alone together."

"I assure you, Cadet, that will not happen again."

"... Oh."

"You made your views on the subject quite clear at the time. Now will you please concentrate on the translation of this text."

-UFP-

Long Range Stellar Cartography was not the most exciting department at Starfleet Academy. The students of this subject did not get to meet and greet the Federation's more exotic species like the Diplomacy students, they did not get to subdue savage aliens during training simulations like the Covert Operations students and they could not accidentally create quantum singularities like the Experimental and Applied Sciences students. They did, however, get to reach out further than any other Earth-based division without ever having to leave their laboratories. This quiet existence suited Tom Franklin just fine, and having been awarded the illustrious position as Commander Spock's research assistant, Tom was more than content. He and his Vulcan CO had struck up a comfortable rapport, and the two men spent many evenings together after classes had finished, pouring over scientific journals, academic periodicals, and theorising on their own experimental scanning techniques. It was one of these tranquil evenings when Tom experienced the biggest eye opener he had received since joining the Academy.

He and Spock were seated in their usual arrangement at Spock's desk; Spock on his side facing into the room, and Tom directly opposite. The evening's PADDs for review were stacked neatly on the desk between them and Spock's computer was humming merrily to itself as it ran through the calculations he had just entered. One of the things Tom liked about Spock's office was that it felt old, even though it wasn't. The shelves that lined the walls were made of wood, the desk was wood, the floor was wood and the door was a heavy, dark stained oak. The room reminded Tom of his father's library back home and he always felt at ease in here.

The hushed quiet of Spock's sanctum was abruptly shattered by the heavy door that Tom so admired, being flung open hard enough to slam against the wall. Both men looked up to find a female cadet standing in the doorway, a PADD in one hand, the other hand balled into a fist and the threat of death on her face. She strode into the room making a beeline for Spock, halting in front of him as he rose to his feet to greet her. She looked at Tom, "Pardon me for interrupting. Do you speak Vulcan?" Tom shook his head in a negative and watched in amazement as she turned back to Spock and launched into a rapid, angry speech in his native tongue, waving the PADD still clutched in her hand for emphasis.

Spock, as stoic as ever, stood tall, as he always did and said nothing. When she had finished all but shouting at him, he replied in a short sentence which seemed to rile her even more. She held up the PADD and pointed at sections of text while speaking in a different language; Tom was no linguist, he had no idea what she was saying, but he figured she was unhappy about something written on the device in her hand. He raised an eyebrow, she had probably fallen foul of Spock's ruthless marking.

Spock took the PADD as it was thrust into his face and scrolled through the document with a raised eyebrow, as the cadet continued with her verbal diatribe. He spoke succinctly and quickly in order to best interject into the tiny pauses in her speech. Tom had to fight back a smile; he'd never seen anyone speak to Spock this way before, the Stellar Cartography students were generally a quiet, meek bunch, none of them would have dreamed of addressing a superior officer in the way this cadet was.

She finally stopped talking and stood with her weight braced aggressively on one hip, her hands joining in and gripping her waist tightly as she raised one eyebrow and thinned her lips. Spock was still looking at the PADD, but he was no longer politely indulging an angry cadet, he was actually frowning. Putting down the PADD for a second, he moved to his expansive bookcase and pulled out a thick, heavy tome. Tom recognised the symbols on the spine as Romulan and finally realised who the feisty cadet was. Spock had informed him a few weeks ago that his duties would be temporarily split between Stellar Cartography and Xenolingustics until Commander Dyson was fit to rejoin the world; this must be one of the third years he had mentioned that he would be tutoring. Tom's eyes scanned her form in a new light and he had a sudden attack of lechery; he had heard that the linguistics girls were great in bed, he wondered if this one fit the mould.

Looking up from where he had laid out the book, Spock had a faint trace of incredulity in his voice as he said to her, "You are correct, Cadet."

She smirked and picked up her PADD from where he had placed it on the desk and held it out to him. "I know. I'll be taking that A grade now, thank you."

Spock straightened and Tom almost fell off his chair in shock as the taller man tilted his head and smirked faintly in return. "I did not say that the paper is worthy of an A grade. Clearly your attention to detail is not in question, but this is not a study of the Vulcan language, it is a study of Romulan."

She scowled. "I know what my paper is about, Sir."

"Indeed." Tom's head was swinging back and forth like a tennis spectator's, this was too fascinating to pretend he wasn't listening. "But Rihannsu does not concern itself with the economy of speech that Vulcan does; it is more passionate." He pushed the PADD being held out towards him back in her direction. "Your writing lacks passion."

What she said next was not what Tom expected. The average human would bristle defensively and retort with something along the lines of 'what would a Vulcan know about passion?', but what she said was: "You know I'm passionate, Spock."

Tom's jaw swung from his face.

He continued to watch, dumb struck, as the other two seemed to forget he was there in the room with them. Spock looked as though he wanted to reach out towards her, but he checked himself and replied instead, "I do not doubt it. What I doubt is your ability to channel that energy into your writing. While you must remain impartial in your written argument, you cannot produce a paper on the origin of Romulan poetic verse without injecting a little... flavour."

She looked down at the PADD in her hand and repeated softly, "Flavour..."

Tom looked on as Spock seemed to comprehend that she was struggling with what he was suggesting and he added softly, "The paper is not due until Friday. Come back here tomorrow after classes and I will assist you."

She straightened up quickly, glanced at Tom then back at Spock. "No, no that's okay, I'll figure it out." She glanced at Tom again, as if realising that she had said something she should not have. "Thank you for your time, Commander. I'll-I'll see you in class." She nodded at Tom and departed quickly, closing the door behind her.

Tom watched Spock return the Romulan book to its shelf and return to the desk. He sat in his seat, picked up the PADD he had been working on and raised his brows politely at his assistant. "Where were we?"