Spock sat on his sofa wondering what to do next. He had gone to the bridge, only to be sent off for the second time of the day, and had spent the afternoon doing paperwork. Now, his arm was starting to ache badly enough that he was having trouble concentrating.
He thought of Nyota, but couldn't think of a reason to go see her. Spock always needed to have a reason, no matter how trivial. He always made sure to have a question to ask, a PADD that needed signing or something to give her. He had once tried telling her that he just wanted to see her, but the words wouldn't come out.
After a few minutes of pondering, Spock did something he had never done before: he dozed off. It was twelve hours, twenty-four minutes until his scheduled sleep period, but he felt tired and thought that maybe the blood loss meant he needed extra sleep.
A few hours later, his door opened and he awoke with a start.
"I'm sorry," Nyota stammered as he turned and looked at her, "I didn't think you would be sleeping."
"It is outside of my scheduled sleep period," Spock replied, "So it is not sleep I need anyhow."
"I brought you dinner," she said, "I didn't see you in the mess hall, so I thought you might not be up to it. Jim said you seemed a bit off"
Spock felt embarrassed. He wondered how many people she had told that he wasn't up to dinner. But it was a nice gesture.
"Thank you," he whispered.
He got up and unwrapped the package she had brought, and saw that it contained a few samosas. He grabbed a fork, speared one, and began taking small bites. Nyota began to laugh.
"I'm sorry," she said, "That just looks funny."
Spock gave her a disdainful glare,
"Sometimes I think you bring me finger food for entertainment."
"Not this time," she laughed, "I just asked for something vegetarian and easy to carry."
"But the time you brought popcorn?"
"Perhaps I was still mad at you for wanting to return to New Vulcan."
She walked behind him and began stroking his ears, as if to say she was still proud of him for his decision to return.
"Would you starve before touching food with your hands?" she asked teasingly.
"Would you starve before eating spaghetti for breakfast?" he asked, mocking her tone.
She laughed.
"No, but I'd be pretty damn hungry."
Spock finished off the samosas, and went back to the sofa.
"I was thinking we could watch the chess championship," Nyota said, sitting next to him.
Nyota had never been into chess, and had quickly bored of his interest in it. She was being nice again.
"You dislike chess," Spock said.
"Yeah, but you're hurt, that means people have to be nice to you," Nyota replied, sidling up to him.
Spock wished that were true.
"Actually," he said, "I am quite tired. I would like to go to sleep now if that is okay with you."
His arm was hurting badly, and he wanted to get to sleep before it got any worse.
*****
Spock lay on his back and Nyota unbuttoned his shirt. She removed it, gingerly peeling it off his injured arm and straddled him. Leaning in to kiss him, she whispered,
"You know what happened today?"
"No, what?" Spock asked.
"Ensign Jameson asked me out."
She said it in a way that made it clear she found the idea laughable. Spock snaked his good arm around her waist jealously.
"Really?" Spock asked. She nodded and began tracing one hand along the waist of his pants.
"He said that the ship being in danger had made him realize that he was in love with me and he wanted to pursue it."
"And what did you say?"
"That I was indisposed ..."
She started giggling slightly.
"I do not see what is amusing."
Nyota unbuttoned Spock's pants and put her hands inside.
"Well ... to start, he's shorter than me and younger than me ... and to be honest, not very attractive ..."
She paused and gave Spock a deep kiss.
"... and not very bright or mature ..."
She began to kiss him more heavily. Spock tried to respond, but his arm felt like it was being punctured by shards of glass. She looked down at him, disappointed.
"I apologize," he whispered, "I am in a lot of pain. I suspect Dr. McCoy did not give me the correct dose of pain-killers."
"Then why didn't you correct him?" she asked indignantly, "Or go back and get some more later?"
Looking into his eyes, she saw the answer.
"Oh Spock," she whispered, "There is nothing to be ashamed of ..."
*****
Once again, it was time for Spock's scheduled call with his father. This time, he didn't stop to compose himself. There were two days until the ship arrived at the Vulcan colony, so he knew he would have to tell his father about Nyota. He thought it might be easier if he just dove in.
"Father!" he said as soon as he turned on the Comm. screen.
"Hello, Spock," Sarek replied. Looking at the screen more closely, he asked,
"What happened to your arm?"
"The ship hit a subspace disturbance, and I had to go inside a ventilation conduit and disconnect the secondary plasma manifold in order to prevent the ship from being flooded with toxic gas. The ship shook when it was disconnected."
While this was essentially true, Spock had left out an important detail. That he had panicked slightly. There had been some adrenaline in his system when he had pulled the cables, so he had not thought that, logically, the ship would shake, and logically, he should brace himself.
"And why did they send you?" Sarek asked, with the faintest hint of concern in his voice.
"I was the first one to realize why life support was failing. I felt it was best to act immediately."
"You should not be taking such risks, especially considering the circumstances," Sarek stated gravely.
Yes, best let a bunch of humans get hurt instead, Spock though bitterly, but didn't pursue it.
"And why are the plasma manifold disconnects in a ventilation shaft?" Sarek continued, "On Vulcan ships they are more central."
"If there are any Vulcan engineers still living who want to explain how to draw the lines out further without falling prey to transwarp interference, I am sure Starfleet would be pleased to hear it," Spock snapped. Then, he added quickly,
"Father, I have something to tell you."
Sarek blinked.
"Go on, son."
Spock paused, trying to decide what to say.
"I ... I have taken a mate. I have invited her home when I come to visit."
Unfortunately, there was no Vulcan word for 'girlfriend'. Spock certainly wished he could have used something less descriptive.
"Why have you done this?" Sarek asked. Spock froze. He had prepared for a variety of possible responses, but had never expected to have to explain himself.
"I ... I ... found myself ... in need ... of companionship," he whispered, struggling to get the words out.
"I thought we had taken care of that!" Sarek declared.
Spock remembered that day well. The day he had looked up at a girl and been attracted to her. He had huddled in his room, ashamed, until his mother had pried what was wrong out of him. And then, she had laughed. Told him that it was nothing to be embarrassed about. Told him that it was only natural.
But it wasn't okay with Spock. He didn't want to be normal. He wanted to be like his peers, tall and pale and clean. So he had spoken with his father, who had given him the answer he wanted. He had taken him to see the senior clerics. The ones that knew how to fight off Pon Farr.
They had given him a talisman that was supposed to improve his powers of resistance. He could hold it, and meditate, and when he did, he felt he could resist anything in the world. But when he had put it down, he felt weak again. Spock hadn't used it in years, but he still kept it in his drawer, just in case the shame came back, just in case he woke up one day, unable to look at himself, covered in filth.
Spock faced his father bravely,
"I guess it did not work-- and that it not what I meant."
There was a strained silence.
"Who is this woman?" Sarek asked.
"Nyota Uhura, she is— "
"I met her when I was aboard the Enterprise. I wish you would have told me."
Spock wondered why. So he could interrogate her? Get to know her? Throw her out the nearest airlock?
Sarek's face was inscrutable.
"I wish you had not done this," he said finally, "But I will expect her when you come to visit."
"Good night, father."
"Good night."