A/N: I know I'm making Uhura seem spontaneously irrational, but I feel that that is how Spock would probably see her, since she's not the type of person to let a comment fly by her without responding. Also, take into consideration that she is only a first year, I intend to have some character growth hopefully. No one, not even Spock, can be perfect I'm afraid.

Also, I was intending to make this the last chapter in the Academy but there's just so much stuff that needs to be expanded, so I'm currently going with the flow. I really have no interest in replaying the movie scenes, so if I do get past the Academy be prepared for either a slight recap or a total breeze over that point in their lives. Unless I feel differently once I get there.

Thanks!

Chapter Three

Andorian Ale Never Fails!

Three Days Earlier

Dr. Chansi earned her doctorate in xenopsychology. She was one of only three aliens in the galaxy who had therapy sessions with over two hundred different life forms. She wrote several books on her journeys to different planets, some of which were outside the Neutral Zone. She was a renown xenopsychologist and scientist, and Spock held great respect for her intelligence and wisdom.

She was a small woman, lithe and dark haired, older than Spock by some fifty years, she was most probably in her sixties but she moved about like a twenty year old.

She was a calm woman and she had a smirking, dry humor that Spock found too subtle to understand. She was also an extremely motherly woman who had viewed Spock as her adopted son since he came to the Academy.

"I do not understand why she was upset." Spock said standing above her desk.

Chansi chuckled.

"Spock, you remember how I said you should use less harsh words?"

"Cadet 3rd Class Uhura is a brilliant student above average in all of her classes. However she is incompetent in weaponry. I thought it necessary to point out so she could rectify the situation if it is within her ability to do so."

"You should have been…more…polite. Perhaps commented on her martial arts skills, which I hear are superb. You could have said-you weapon skills are not comparable to your hand to hand combat. Perhaps you should work on your weapon skills? Spock, Cadet Uhura, from what I've seen, is not the type of person who likes to be told she can't do something or that she is bad at something."

Spock raised an eyebrow and decided to sit down.

"I do not understand what you mean, I believe your statement may be illogical or difficult for me to translate as a native to Vulcan. Bad has several definitions in Common, therefore the word 'bad' should be followed by a definitive description that explains its use in the sentence. Are you implying that she has undesirable qualities, negative connotations, she has intense pain or nonstandard? I believe you mean below average, but human speech progression is sometimes baffling."

"Forget it, Spock," Chansi groaned in frustration.

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Illogical. You know that I am Vulcan and in full mental health. It is not possible for me to forget in this short expanse of time."

"I'm suddenly beginning to realize why she and several others are frustrated with you, Spock. Listen, my dear. I know that you mean nothing by what you say. You are only acting the way your culture dictates, by logic. And since most of us do not possess such an avid need for logic we usually act illogically. This can be upsetting for you since you were enveloped in a world where people held your same beliefs for logic's constant necessity. I understand this. But others will not. I am not saying that you should assimilate. I am hoping that you observe human responses and try to categorize their reactions to certain causes. I believe in time you will begin to understand humans more. But for the time being, please my dear, use euphemisms."

"They are inefficient and not precise. But if they will allow me to collaborate easier with my students and the faculty I am willing to try them."

Dr. Chansi smiled.

"Good. You've done well here, Spock. You've grown and you're becoming much more familiar with human responses. But Uhura is a different type of human." Chansi paused and looked at Spock for a moment before nodding definitively, "Yes, I feel like you two will kill each other. That is my final diagnosis of your situation."

"I did not ask you to diagnose our situation. You interfered as you do on a regular occasion. Your opinion was not requested."

"I was trying to help. All of your other lab assistants left you after two weeks and ended up in counseling. I do not wish the same for Cadet Uhura. Come on then. Let's just play, shall we, ducky?" She asked smiling.

Spock nodded and began setting up the three dimensional chess board. Dr. Chansi was the only member of the staff besides Captain Pike who Spock frequently spoke to. She had assisted him make the progression from a Vulcan environment into a prevalently human environment. She understood Vulcans very well for a human, and was willing to explain situations most humans viewed to be obvious. For this he was exceedingly grateful.

But she was known for her nosy personality.

She was recently grossly interested in his uncanny relationship with Cadet Uhura. A relationship he assured her was testing his ability to deal with human emotions.

"So she's your best student yet, hmm?" Chansi asked suddenly.

Spock placed his pawn on the 3rd board and raised an eyebrow.

"Why do you keep speaking of Cadet 3rd Class Uhura?"

"It's just a response to you really. You seem to be quite…fixated on her."

"You are the one who keeps speaking of her. I am also not sure I understand what you are implying. Check."

"Tricky bugger you. I am not implying anything, Commander Spock. I am merely suggesting that you usually do not speak about your Cadets extensively. Usually you are very concise and have a point to your anecdotes about a student. With Cadet Uhura however….you seem only to rant about her faults and insistent temper."

Spock leaned back into his seat and watched her move her queen.

He responded immediately.

"Check. I do not rant. I am trying to understand her reactions by listing her emotional responses to you. I do not understand the intended direction of your argument, Dr. Chansi."

"Me think the Vulcan protest too much."

"Are you altering the words of a Terran play?"

"Look, Spock, all joking aside, I understand you are not familiar with human courtship, but among us we would call your insistent-alright, for you it's insistent-rants on Uhura to be romantic fixation. It's like a schoolboy who hits the girl he likes,"

"I do not understand you. How does a schoolboy hitting a girl relate to a romantic fixation? Unless you are implying that we engage in a form of Klingon courtship, which I do not believe would involve a school-"

"Forget it Spock. I'm a xenopsychologist, I've studied Vulcans on Vulcan and I still do not understand you at all. Checkmate, Spock."

Spock stared at the chessboard and steepled his hands.

"Quite fascinating."

Chansi grinned at him and winked.

"I know. If I had known all I have to do to finally beat you at chess is talk about, Uhura, I would have done so long ago. So what are you going to do to show your gratitude?"

Spock looked up from the board in confusion. Chansi was usually an almost logical woman, but sometimes he could not follow her abrupt pattern of thinking.

"Gratitude for what?"

"Uhura. She's been assisting you very well hasn't she? Well, humans show their gratitude through…ceremonies."

Dr. Chansi almost smiled as she leaned back into her seat. Perhaps she was just a meddlesome old woman, but this could be amusing. She saw Spock's slight eyebrow tilt, a sign of interest. The poor thing didn't know she was intending to set him up for a date.

It didn't matter, he would probably never find a logical moment to ask her anyway.

Spock sighed.

Who knew gratitude could be so aggravating.

On the way there she insisted he carry her. When he tried to place her on the ground she had practically groped him into carrying her. Not wanting to be seen by anyone he hurriedly acquiesced to her demands and carried her uncomfortably with his arms around her legs and shoulders, back to his quarters.

All the way there she had insisted on singing "Andorian ale never fails! Andorian ale never fails!" and though she did have a beautiful voice, he did not want anyone to be stirred from their beds by her slurred singing.

When they arrived at his quarters it did not take long for her to fall asleep unceremoniously on his couch. Her legs were spread over the arm and her body was twisted strangely beneath her. Sighing Spock picked her up and angled her correctly onto the couch. She mumbled in her sleep and her hand shot out, slapping Spock's hand away. His lips slightly lifted in amusement and he drew a blanket around her shoulders.

This was quite a predicament, extremely inappropriate but truly not Uhura's fault. He should have remembered the effect of Andorian liquor on humans. Cadet Uhura was not the type of student he presumed would get drunk irresponsibly, especially in front of a superior. She was probably not aware of the high concentration of alcohol in Andorian liquor.

He needed to assess this situation. It was a spectacle that he did not wish to repeat and did not truly know how to deal with. He needed to find his center, to clear his mind and delve into his Vulcan logic. He set a traditional Vulcan kettle on the stove and waited for it to steam. The smell of heavy spice thirty minutes later told him it was ready. It would hopefully assist to clear his mind.

How had this illogical occurrence occurred?

In order to rectify the consequence he needed to understand the source. Drifting slightly into his mind he traced his thoughts back…

A small voice told him it was possibly due to a meddling xenopsychologist.

Somewhere a clock ticked and Spock took comfort in the fact that it was Friday. He would not have to deal with any questions if Uhura did not show up to her classes. In that he took a small amount of relief, for his relationship with Uhura was becoming increasingly more difficult, too difficult for him to currently explain to others.

Looking across at her from the small kitchen he was once again reminded of his strange…attraction to her. Except this time she was not conscious, and he allowed himself to look at her fully without the worry of suspicious eyes.

She was lovely when she slept. The steady calm of her face was beautiful, there was a slight smile on her lips. Her hair was tumbling from its usually neat ponytail. Thick black strands fell over her lovely skin.

She seemed sweetly calm and in that moment Spock felt a slight…tug somewhere, a strange longing that confused him. Most interesting.

Spock's internal clock clicked again and he left her sleeping peacefully on his couch.

It was time for meditation.

He could not allow her to interfere with his routine.

Uhura woke later that night up snuggled in a very heavy blanket. Stretching like a cat she turned and felt a pain between her eyes.

Ugh, now she remembered. Andorian liquor. She would never drink it again.

Standing up she realized she was not in her room.

This living room was…plain. The walls were gray, there was no television display, only two gray armchairs and a gray sofa. The carpet below was gray as well. There was nothing around her that suggested anyone lived here.

And then she remembered. She had practically forced Spock to take her to his quarters.

In embarrassment she rubbed the palms of her hands against her temples and sighed. First she had snapped at him, then she got drunk and groped him.

What must he think of her? How did she get to this awkward point in her life?

In retrospect she was sure she had irritated him long before this. True, she did possess a temper, but usually it resulted in a demanding tone or eye roll. With Spock she was illogically enraged at the smallest things. Something about him just…irritated her.

"You are awake." Spock said in Vulcan and moved into her line of vision.

He was wearing a strange black robe with a hood, which he now removed. In his hands were two testaments of perfect circles-bright white cups with lovely Vulcan text along the handles.

Logic prevails the emotions of the flesh-Surak.

He handed her one and sat down on one of the armchairs.

"It will help with your condition."

She assumed he meant her hangover and not her emotional state. Uhura fidgeted. The room was boiling hot, and so was the teacup. It did not help her already increasing apprehension.

"Commander Spock…I am sorry about what happened. I did not mean-"

"I understand. I am the one who is in fault. I knew the effects of Andorian liquor but I did not think of this at the time."

Uhura nodded and drank the hot tea, feeling a smooth almost cinnamon taste pull the apprehension from her body.

"Wow, what is this?"

"Meditation tea."

"I see. You were meditating." She pointed at his strange attire.

"I routinely have a deep meditation from nightfall to sunup. I do not require sleep in the amount that humans do." He placed the cup on the table.

"That explains many things. Commander Spock, permission to speak freely?" Uhura asked, suddenly a mask of mature determination turned her face into dark stone.

Spock looked at her curiously and nodded.

"Commander Spock, I know we haven't exactly been on good terms sometimes. But I do consider you to be…my friend. And I really must thank you for…not throwing me out drunk." She said with a half smile.

She was embarrassed and slightly angry at herself for being embarrassed. She was not used to awkward situations and she did not like being so obviously exposed to someone. She was sure her nervousness was written like a tattoo across her face. Though she stared him in the eyes her teeth pulled at her bottom lip and her hands twisted constantly in her lap.

Why did Spock always turn her into a bumbling mess?

Spock looked at her in confusion, having misinterpreted her dry humor.

"That would not be logical. In your state you could have-"

"It was a joke, Spock."

"A joke…most illogical. Illogical situations seem to…please humans." He said quietly and his black eyes watched her, something strange and foreign to their depths made Uhura's already elevated heartbeat pulse even faster.

"I know I am…difficult to understand, Cadet 3rd Class, Uhura. But I have never meant to upset you, and I do believe that when we are not arguing we are, in fact, friends and colleagues. I do not fault you for possessing a human character."

Uhura looked at him and chuckled.

"And I don't fault you for having a Vulcan character. Friends?" She asked with an outstretched hand.

Spock looked at her hand wearily. Uhura suddenly remembered that unnecessary touching to Vulcans was extremely taboo and intimate. Especially when hands were involved.

In another moment of embarrassment Uhura attempted to retract her hand to her side but was surprised when Spock grabbed it unexpectedly and shook it.

"I understand this is a human tradition. If you are willing to understand my culture, I am willing to understand yours." He spoke softly.

Spock's large hand had wrapped around her small one, the heated fingertips grazing the underside of her palm in an innocent touch that had invoked a slight spark of contentment. Spock looked at her quietly, his face exposing nothing but his eyes, as always, were fascinatingly human.

Slowly he let her hand go, never letting his eyes stray from her face.

"Commander Spock-"

"I believe, if we are to be…friends, it is customary to use informal terms. If it is agreeable do not call me Commander outside of an academic and professional setting."

"Okay then…Spock. I know this was a really bad dinner and I am very, very sorry about how it ended. So-why don't you let me make it up to you? I'll buy you a meal, anywhere you want tomorrow, anytime. And please don't say no, it'll just offend me." Uhura said still clutching her head in an attempt to massage out her migraine.

"I do not wish to offend you so I will agree. I have a regular routine to follow and I prefer to eat in the morning. I have eaten only my own prepared food since coming to the Academy, rarely anything other than Vulcan meals. I would like to try Terran brunch, I do not know any restaurants in San Francisco, so perhaps you can assist me with the location of this meal?"

Uhura smiled and nodded.

"I know just the place actually."

"Excellent. I presume that you are experiencing the effects of a hangover. I suggest you sleep. I will be gone in the morning, I will be available for brunch at eleven ante meridiem. Where do you wish to meet?"

"It's an old Terran restaurant called Denny's on 3rd Street."