A/N: Thank you guys! I'm so tired. I have summer classes and my final is right before I actually go back to school so I'm packing, writing, and studying at the same time. And the next day I have classes Tuesday beginning at 8am!!! Craziness.

Anyway, here's eight, it's kind of rough due to the fact that I'm busy, and I'm sorry if there are a lot of mistakes, please forgive me. 

WARNING: READ THESE WARNINGS OR YOU MIGHT BE UPSET. IN THIS CASE THERE IS A LOT OF FLUFF AHEAD, IT'S COTTON CANDY FLUFF. VERY SWEET, COULDN'T HELP IT.

Chapter Eight

I Do Not Love You Except

Spock smelled her before he got to the door. Honey and roses. She washed her hair with jasmine. She was not a gaudy woman-always softly feminine, subtly feminine. She held herself like she wore pearls or gems, self confidence born of intelligence and pride.

His eyes left Dr. Chansi's retreating figure to look back at Nyota who seemed extremely confused and embarrassed. She began to stutter but he refused to let her dwell. It was time that he explained himself fully.

He closed the door behind her and leaned in slightly to envelop her scent. She gasped when he neared her; he had not attempted to be subtle. Instead he trailed his hands down her shoulder and allowed his emotions to flow freely into her. Their minds touched briefly, a soft greeting that filled him with need.

She mewled and he retreated. It would not do to ravish her now, though his body stated otherwise. He had to explain.

"Drink tea with me," He said huskily against her ear and she nodded obediently, half drunk off of his scent.

He led her gently and politely by her elbow to the living room, fairly pleased with this small display of possession.

The three dimensional chess set was still set up and the kettle was already set out. He supplied her with a cup and cleaned Dr. Chansi's cup in the sink. He picked up his own cup and passed her the sugar knowingly.

"Spock, why have you been avoiding me? If you don't want to be with me anymore you could have just-"

"No." He said firmly, almost angrily.

His face was indifferent. Uhura could not understand if he was upset with her question or if he just wished for her not to speak.

"I wish to be with you, Nyota."

Her eyebrows quirked at that but she allowed him to continue.

"You have a unique ability to permeate my logic and influence me to react without proper rationale. I needed to think clearly to understand what this means to me. What you mean to me, Nyota.

I do not understand human emotions as fully as you. I have never been in a romantic relationship of this caliber. My curiosities have led me to experimentation, but not with emotional attachment. You are important to me. A unique manifestation. I do not understand fully why. You are extremely flawed. You are spontaneously angry, irrational, obstinately human and infuriating."

Nyota raised an eyebrow in irritation.

"But you are also uncommonly beautiful. Compassionate, empathetic, logical, extremely intelligent and accepting despite your temper. But these are not qualities indicative of a logical reason to mate. They do not concern your breeding, your social status or relevance to producing prime offspring. There is no logic in your human provenance and my Vulcan origins. You are not always agreeable and I cannot always satisfy your emotional needs. What we possess is not logical. And I realized that when we were together that day in my office that I needed to understand why it did not matter."

He paused and stared at her, his head slightly tilted in what she could only assume was admiration. His black eyes were half lidded; his mouth was pulled up slightly in a subtle Vulcan smile. His hand drifted across to her and lightly stroked her knuckles. Spock's behavior was peculiar, subtly out of character and confusing. Nyota couldn't remember why she had been angry or what he was trying to convey.

"I did not understand what it meant to love, Nyota. To love a woman. But I believe I understand now. I have meditated on this matter and it has brought only visions of you. To be fixated, obsessed, possessive, compassionate for and irrational; to be consumed by one person and willing to give all that I have worked for and am just to possess you, I believe that is love. To accept that it is not logical, that there is no rationale or need of it. That is love. To know that my logic will fail when I try to understand this…feeling for you-to know this and accept this. That is love. And I cannot explain other than that, my Nyota. I do not love you except because I love you."

Nyota's eyes widened. She had not been expecting a confession of love from him when she came here. She had expected him to be cold, to be unyielding and to terminate their relationship in fear of the emotions encroaching upon him. She had expected anything but this. As usual Spock was strangely unpredictable.

"Pablo Neruda," Nyota whispered and her hand drifted onto his cheek to the curve of his chin.

"Yes," Spock breathed nervously and watched her. He gently curled his fingers around her small wrist, reveling in how small she was, how absolutely petite for a woman with such an astoundingly tenacious character.

"I love you only because it's you the one I love, I hate you deeply, and hating you, bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you is that I do not see you but love you blindly." She recited and pressed her forehead against his, her nose pressed against his as well and she pushed her hand further down his neck to his chest.

Spock's heartbeat increased considerably. She did not seem frightened or upset with his declaration. He was apprehensive that he might not be well received, but she seemed happy.

"You enjoy Neruda's work?"

"Quite. But I believe currently that that poem will become my favorite piece of poetry." She murmured and kissed his chin.

Spock's lips quirked up into his Vulcan grin.

"Spock. I'm not sure of love. I've never known it. But I think I loved you even when I thought I hated you. Even when you pissed me off. You were supposed to be my nemesis, not my lover. But I'm not a romantic fool, Spock. And love is not a fairy tale or forever. And I don't know what that will mean for us. We're from different worlds, baby."

Spock's lips thinned in displeasure. He moved to sit on the couch with her and pulled her into him. Uhura breathed in his scent-heat and spices, probably from tea. She moved into his lap and he gently grabbed her shoulders. She could feel his lust beginning to form beneath her and she nuzzled his neck affectionately.

"I know. That does not concern me. I have been from two different worlds since my birth. That is not why disturbs me. Nyota, there is something you must know. Vulcan mating habits are different. Several of our biological processes are regulated naturally by our will power. It has become an adaptation to prevent war and to propagate rationale by separating the body from the mind, but among our failings is pon farr, Vulcan mating.

Every seven years a Vulcan must consummate with their mate, fight to the death or hope to meditate through plak tow, the fever. If this Vulcan fails in these endeavors, death will be imminent. It promotes offspring, but also results in completely destroying our rationale and turning us into the savages we once were in ancient times. That is why Vulcans keep this failing a secret to outsiders. It is taboo to speak of it and an embarrassment.

If I were to mate with you Nyota, though we are not mated, my mind would view you inevitably as my mate. I…possess certain Vulcan urges that may wish for me to create a mind meld with you, a joining of minds. As I am not with pon farr this would be only a temporary meld. If I were, it would be permanent. To bond during pon farr is equivalent to human marriage. You must understand I do not wish to hurt you, Nyota. And I am a Vulcan male with 2.68 times the strength of a human males. Mind melds can be just as hurtful as intense sexual physicality. It would be…dangerous for us to join, Nyota."

Nyota smiled up at him. She lowered his head and bit his lip hard; her hands slipped under his shirt and crawled up his taught muscles. He hissed and grabbed her wrists, his hands were shaking and he growled at her admonishingly.

That need. It was driving him insane and her warmth was teasing him into insanity. He was embarrassed about what he wanted to do to her. How he wanted to. And he was so close to losing his control, to holding her down-

"Nyota-"

"Spock, I want you."

"Are you sure, Nyota? If we begin I will not be able to stop. You must be sure."

"Completely," She murmured in Vulcan and sucked on his earlobe.

Spock bucked underneath her and grabbed her face within his hands. Their lips connected violently. Her mouth pushed against his, his teeth sucked her bottom lips between them and his hands grabbed her waist and pulled her firmly against his erection.

Nyota was squirming to feel him. Her hands gripped his shoulders; her nails were eliciting pleasurable pain. Spock pushed her down onto the couch and sucked hard on her neck, murmuring in Vulcan. He angrily pulled at her hairpin and her ebony hair fell over them both. He curled his hand around the thick locks and pulled Nyota up violently to meet his feral kiss. His need was pushing hard and needing against her stomach. Nyota's arousal drifted thick and sweet from between them and he groaned pulling her roughly off the couch.

"We must relocate." He said evenly and carried her off the couch to the bedroom.