Author's Note: In this chapter, Spock recalls another moment of his dinner with Uhura. Then, he visits T'Lau where he receives an unexpected surprise.

Adult themes, but not quite requiring a "M" rating.

Your comments are always welcome.

It took Spock 25 minutes to travel across the city by SkyBus to get to T'Lau's apartment. However, he was in no hurry. He desired the time to think about her – his Nyota.

Having spent the late-afternoon with her in Diarmuid's apartment, he recalled the entree she had prepared called Red-Red, a Ghanaian spicy black eyed pea stew served over brown rice. He remembered how Uhura had hardly touched any of her own serving as she watched him impassively eat the meal.

Although knowing Vulcans traditionally did not speak during the main course, Uhura could not contain herself. "So, Spock, what do you think?'

After he swallowed his last spoonful, he answered, "I have, yet, to finish my bowl."

"But, you've had a chance to form an opinion."

Spock set down his spoon. "Is there a reason why I should rush to judgment?"

"It's the first time I've ever cooked for you."

"Then would you not rather have my considered opinion, than a hasty and thoughtless critque?"

"How about a preliminary finding?"

"Very well."

She straightened, smiling in anticipation.

"I noticed you have eaten very little of your own serving. When the preparer does not appear to enjoy her own food, it consequently makes the guest think twice about his own portion."

"Oh, Spock." She gently protested. "I'm just a little anxious. With that poker face of yours, I can't tell if you like it, hate it, or just eating it to be polite."

Spock picked up his spoon. "May I continue my meal?" He asked without showing any intention of changing his indifferent expression.

Uhura reluctantly consented and tried her best to eat from her bowl. However, now he seemed to take even less onto his spoon each time he dipped it into the bowl. She thought, Just how long can he continue to prolong this?

"Spock." She called to him trying not to reveal her growing level of frustration. "Don't forget to alternate tastings of the Red-Red with the kelewele." She picked up a cube with her fingers. "These fried plantains are often served as a dessert, but they marry well with this stew. Please try one." She held up the morsel near his mouth, but he took it from her and sat it down on his bread dish.

"Nyota, are you not aware we do not touch the food we put in our mouth with our fingers?"

As the Vulcan resumed eating, he could easily tell he had set her on edge as she rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. However, then she did something he did not expect.

Uhura picked up the kelewele he had placed on his bread plate and rolled it about the tips of her slender fingers. Then, she parted her lips just enough to allow her tongue space to come through exposing the tip. Placing the cube there, she raised her eyes to confirm what she already knew – Uhura had his undivided attention.

The Vulcan was not quite sure how long she left it there . . . dangling . . . precariously . . . seemingly ready to slide off . . . at any moment. Strangely, he found himself slightly aroused by this improvised balancing act. He felt his mouth water and a growing impulse to taste it . . . taste her.

He reasoned, She is obviously offering it to you. It is time to retrieve the prize.

Just as he began to lower his head to accept the morsel, Uhura widened her mouth and flipped the cube back into her mouth. Spock raised his head and watched as she chewed, swallowed and chased it with a swig of her beer.

"Funny thing about Vulcans." Uhura began. "Their dining etiquette dictates that one should use utensils for all the food they eat. I suppose it is out of concern for the hygienic practices of the food handler. Yet, they certainly do not appear to be adverse to mouth to mouth contact with another person's bodily fluids which one presumes would contain those very contaminants they have sought to avoid."

"I believe your sample size may be a bit small. Most Vulcans are consistent in their treatment of another person's bodily fluids. Most customs involving the touching of one's lips and tongue to another's are characteristically human."

"You certainly do not appear adverse to the practice."

He paused, taking in her eyes before answering. "Living among humans, I have learned to adapt."

"I see." She said as she picked up another cube with her fingers and held it before him. Her voice became soft and sultry. "So, next time I offer you some of my sugar . . . I trust you won't refuse me."

Uhura moved the cube to his lips and this time he opened his mouth without hesitation. She placed the plantain on his waiting tongue and . . .

"Spock!" She exclaimed as his lips quickly closed around her fingers and began to suck them. He recalled the sweet sound of her laughter as she pulled her fingers away.

"I believe I shall have another serving of your stew." He told her.

Uhura tipped the bowl toward her to see he had eaten its contents. "And, what is your verdict, sir?"

"I do believe I need another tasting before I give my opinion."

"In that case . . . " she smiled affectionately, but spoke in a saccharinely sweet tone, "Baby, you'll have to get up off your butt and get it your damn self."

When T'Lau opened the door to her apartment, the sight of Spock pleased her. Dressed in black civilian clothes, she preferred this attire to the Starfleet uniform he wore while with her in Germany.

After inviting him in, she offered to take his jacket. When Spock provided it with no hesitation, he could sense something analogous to an expression of delight on her face. As he had done in the past, he sat at a table already set with a teapot, two cups, and a small tin of loose tealeaves. He watched her as she retrieved a thermal pitcher of hot water to prepare the tea in the teapot. He noted her dress, a thin white meditation robe tied with a red belt about the waist. When she bent over slightly to pour the water into the pot, he could see she had little if anything at all beneath that robe.

Spock asked. "Have I disturbed your period of meditation?"

"I was not sure if you would visit me, tonight. I sent my message at 6:05 PM requesting your presence and you did not acknowledge it."

"I was engaged with another matter at the time of your communication. It would not have been appropriate for me to reply at that time."

T'Lau took her seat as she waited for the tea to steep. "For much of the time we were in Germany, you appeared preoccupied."

"When we arrived at the plant, the issue which triggered our journey hardly appeared of consequence to require my presence."

"If you recall, it was actually Admiral Pok's recommendation you accompany me, when the matter arose."

"And, you said nothing to persuade him otherwise."

"Nor did you question the Admiral's order."

"How could I without full knowledge of the extent of the problem? You were the one to convey the sense of urgency."

"You appeared to follow the Admiral's request willingly."

T'Lau poured the tea into the cups. She waited as he lifted the cup, checking the color and allowing the aroma to come up and meet his nostrils. While the scalding hot liquid would have been too much for a human to endure, he sipped the brew and allowed the tea to move across his tongue.

"Well done as usual, T'Lau." He commented.

A compliment. She thought, as she topped off his cup. There is something different about him this evening.

He continued. "Your return to the plant necessitated the cancellation of our scheduled meeting to discuss the readiness of your contracted components. Given the strict timetable posed by Starfleet command for the launch of the Enterprise, I concluded I must stay up-to-date on all developments."

T'Lau sipped her tea. "The Admiral knew well what he was doing when he appointed you as taskmaster. The StarShip will be completed by the contracted deadline."

"I believe I have already made you aware the deadline serves as a target date and is not my primary concern. I am to ensure this ship – soon to be the flagship of the fleet – is built and operates according to our specifications. The safety of its crew and its value to the Federation demands nothing less."

"That may be true. However, is it not more than a coincidence the one chosen to directly examine the segments managed by a Vulcan is another of that race. I suppose they feel a measure of comfort with you due to your biracial heritage. Still, despite all we have done for these humans, is it not disconcerting they hold us with such suspicions?"

"T'Lau, I did not come here to discuss the current state of Vulcan-Human relations. My current disposition has little patience for such fruitless debates."

"Yes." T'Lau raised her hazel eyes to meet Spock's. "I have noted a curious change in temperament within you. It is quite different than the one you displayed while in Germany. There, I perceived a tenseness I had never before sensed from you. It seemed to manifest itself with the receipt of the communication from the Cadet interviewing to serve as one of your assistants."

Spock took another sip of his tea, choosing not to comment. However, T'Lau would not drop the matter.

"He was to replace a Cadet who capriciously resigned her position with no regard for your effect such an ill-timed move would have on your work."

"My former Course Assistant, Ms. Uhura, took measures to ensure little disruption to my coursework." Spock spoke in her defense. "After reviewing his credentials and speaking with him by VidPhone, I have concluded the candidate Ms. Uhura found for the position is highly qualified for the tasks at hand."

"On that account, you are most fortunate. Also, in the final analysis, it is well you are rid of her. In my dealings with her, I found her to be a most disagreeable creature."

It took all he had within him not to lash out at her with his tongue. He had reasoned T'Lau to be at least partially responsible for Uhura's transfer to another department. If he had been on campus when she returned from the holidays, perhaps, he could have persuaded her not to make such a move. However, despite this belief, he needed something else from T'Lau and could not afford to give her any reason to respond negatively to his request.

"T'Lau, have you given some thought to my appeal to participate in Dr. McCoy's medical study?"

"Oh, yes . . . the study which requires a DNA sample from me."

"I assumed you asked me to your apartment, tonight, because you had an answer to my proposition."

"No, you presumption was incorrect. That is not why I requested your presence."

"I see."

Spock's curt reply did not go unnoticed by T'Lau. "If it had been anyone but you, I would have refused immediately. I am sure you are quite aware of the xenophobic inspired so-called medical studies in the past that have been conducted by humans with genocidal intentions."

Of course, no one knew better than him the absurdity of his position in relation to T'Lau's concern. After all, the father of the woman he loved was a bigot who probably would have no qualms about such devious purposes. However, Spock knew the real purpose behind the need for her DNA sample was for Dr. McCoy's experiments related to the Vulcan sex drive, more specifically, the pon farr. Commissioned by Spock, he charged McCoy with learning about the phenomena in an attempt to lessen its effects and the biological need for a Vulcan mate. Spock wanted to allay T'Lau's fears so she would be a willing donor to the project.

"When one examines the histories of the known races of our quadrant of the universe, few developed without experiencing a xenophobic movement of some measure. However, I can assure you there is no such objective associated with this experiment. You have my word on that."

T'Lau studied Spock. She knew he would not lie to her, but like most Vulcans he carefully chose which details to disclose.

"Can you not find other candidates?"

"Our families have known each other for many generations and, yet, you are hesitant to give your consent." Spock answered. "What then is the probability of me securing another contributor to this project if even you have such misgivings?"

T'Lau paused in what seemed to be an effort to consider the matter. However, her response failed to yield the answer Spock anticipated.

"I will have a reply for you within 48 hours."

Although disappointed, Spock knew not to press her on the issue. To find a way to ensure his biological compatibility with Nyota, he was willing to do and endure much more than what T'Lau asked of him.

"Thank you for giving thought to my proposition." He told her. "However, if you have not made a decision on this matter, why did you invite me here?"

"There is something I wanted to give to you. Given the circumstances in Germany, it did not seem appropriate to present it at that time. And, when we arrived in San Francisco, you left me in great haste. I could not help, but wonder the reason for such urgency." From the seat of a chair next to her and hidden from view under the table, she retrieved a gift-wrapped box and set it before Spock.

Spock was not about to be drawn into a discussion of his private affairs, especially those involving Uhura. Instead, he responded, "A gift? Such a gesture is certainly not one of our traditions."

"Yes, perhaps, I have lived among them too long. However, please allow this one transgression. I am sure you will appreciate this item."

"If you are so certain, then perhaps I already own one. Would that not render your gift as superfluous?"

"Spock . . . " T'Lau paused to calm a feeling of exasperation. "Please withhold further comment until you have actually set eyes on the object in question."

Spock moved the box closer to him, and then carefully opened the present. After removing the top, he reached inside and retrieved an electronic device. T'Lau relaxed as he seemed to inspect it with interest.

"An iPlayer. I do not own this instrument, but I have seen demonstrations of its use." Spock informed her.

"It provides a musician with the accompaniment."

"Accompaniment programmed to adjust to the tempo, volume, style and timbre of the musician. It is, indeed, quite extraordinary."

Spock knew the device also carried a substantial cost, but Vulcans considered the discussion of such matters to be in bad taste.

"You must download the programs of your choosing. However, I have taken the liberty of selecting the first set." She pressed a button to bring up the title on the display panel.

"The complete works of Saatok for the ka'athyra." Spock read. "Well chosen, T'Lau. Saatok is the preeminent composer for this instrument."

"You are pleased."

"I look forward to running the program as soon as I return to my apartment."

"Why wait until then? You may use my ka'athyra."

"Your instrument is not properly sized for me. If we are to test the program, it would be more appropriate for you to play the ka'athyra."

"Spock, you know I never achieved your mastery with the instrument. Even though it may not be made to your physical specification, you can cause it to sing far sweeter than I ever could." T'Lau rose up from her chair and picked up the instrument from a stand where she had it displayed.

Spock accepted it and let his fingers move across the strings. "This instrument has been neglected." He criticized as he began to tune it.

T'Lau unfurled her meditation mat upon the floor. "The changes in pitch you are making are quite subtle. It only serves to prove your greater expertise. It would please me if I could enter the realm of meditation while you demonstrated your artistry."

Spock tested the strings and was now satisfied with its sound. "Of course, T'Lau. I suppose it is the least I could do after receiving such an unexpected, yet fascinating gift."

T'Lau assumed the lotus position on the mat, while Spock set the order of the playlist on the iPlayer. Pressing the "Start" button and hearing the opening introduction to the first song, he began to play.

Dressed in their Cadet uniforms, James T. Kirk and Uhura make their way toward the Student Activities Center to join their other friends for a pizza.

"Just what were you listening to?" Kirk incredulously asked the East African. "All during Commandant Hjertstedt's comatose inducing welcome back speech, you were looking directly at the man as if you were really paying attention to what he was saying."

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Uhura began, "But I thought paying attention to the Academy's highest ranking officer was an expectation of the assembly."

"Not even his own staff could accomplish that feat. Didn't you see Ensign I'll-Kiss-Your-Ass?"

"Ensign Kissinger." Uhura corrected him.

"He was getting some serious sleep time right under the Commandant's nose."

"Yeah, he did nod off a few times." Uhura laughed. "Good thing Lieutenant Yokomo nudged him right before the Commandant finished his speech."

"So, what's your secret to surviving that endurance test?"

"I just kept my focus on what was important."

"You mean beneath that pretty little mask of yours you were thinking of something else?"

"Why James!" She feigned indignation. "Are you accusing me of hiding my true feelings beneath a facial façade?"

"Yeah, something like that. I suppose you were able to perfect that skill with all the time you spent with that Vulcan last semester. Good thing you were able to luck out and get that position in your own department or you would have been stuck with that human computer, again."

"It wasn't so bad being with Mr. Spock." Uhura did not like Kirk talking about Spock like that. However, she had to be careful not to be too passionate in her defense. "I actually learned quite a bit, while in his service."

"What did you call yourself . . . a glorified secretary? And, you also complained about having very little discretion in performing your duties as his Course Assistant."

"I made those comments earlier in the semester. After he began to recognize my talents, I gained more substantive responsibilities. I was able to conduct one of sessions of his ethics course and, as you'll recall, the symposium I managed for him was quite well received."

"Yeah, and who received most of the credit for the success of the symposium? . . . Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass. Let's face it, Uhura, that Vulcan used you and showed little appreciation for your efforts. You're good to be rid of him."

Uhura knew she could not tell Kirk about what happened earlier that day . . .

How she had carefully dressed herself in traditional inspired clothing of her homeland that she knew would accent her best physical features . . .

I wanted him to find me attractive . . .

How she had spent most of the day preparing some of her favorite African dishes to serve to this Vulcan . . .

I wanted to please him . . .

How she had inadvertently aroused him when she caressed the tip of his ear . . .

She smiled with the memory . . .

Didn't mean to . . . but I'm glad I turned him on . . .

And, when he held her in his arms . . .

Spock . . .

She bathed in his patience as he assuaged her sexual insecurities . . .

Thank you, Baby . . .

She delighted in the feel of him as she leaned against his warm, muscular body . . .

So safe . . . so secure . . . feels so good . . .

Against all odds, this son of Vulcan had found a way to her heart . . .

Ninapenda wewe1, Spock.

Kirk was one of her closest friends at the Academy, yet, she could not share these thoughts about the man she loved. The probability of exposing their clandestine affair would be too great if more persons related to Starfleet knew about it. Thus, she needed to suppress any comment that would raise suspicions of such a forbidden relationship.

"In the end, all that matters is that I was fortunate Dr. Greeley had a teaching position available for me." She told the Iowan. "The past is the past."

"It would be more accurate to say the past is prologue. All else springs from what we do or don't do in the past."

Upon hearing his words, Uhura thought about how much Kirk sounded like Spock. However, she surmised, there would be little chance for those two men to get together.

"Listen, James, I'm tired of talking about Academy. The semester officially begins tomorrow, so let's let it rest until then."

"That's fine with me. So, what's on your mind?"

"Nothing topical or anything even remotely serious. I was just wondering . . . " She paused until finding what she thought was a safe subject. "I was just wondering, if you remembered your first kiss."

"First kiss?" He mused. "I'm assuming kissing one's mother does not count."

"Of course, not."

"First cousins?"

"No, James."

"We had a cow named Bessie who – "

"Even as a joke, that's sick!" She interrupted. "Listen, I don't want any stories about relatives or farmyard friends."

Kirk paused as if considering his options, before he finally spoke. "Then, I guess I'll have to tell you about an Andorian girl named Zas, who was a student like me at an arts camp. Although I was barely 13 and she was 16, I could tell she was attracted to me from the first day we met."

Skeptical, "A 16 year old Andorian girl named Zata?"

"That's right."

"Now, I know you're not above enhancing a story with fictional details – "

"If you mean I never let the truth get in the way of a good story, I stand guilty as charged."

"Don't you think you'd do better to keep your audience's attention if you didn't include details that weren't so obviously erroneous?"

"And just what were the obvious flaws?" Kirk challenged her.

"First, there is no equivalent to the letter "Z" in the Andorian alphabet. So, the girl's name was definitely not Zata."

"Oops."

"Second, this race of people is known across the galaxy for their expertise in painting, sculpture, textiles and decorative arts, so no self-respecting Andorian family would send their child to a Terran arts camp. And, third –"

"There's more?"

"This detail about a sixteen year old wanting a pimpled-face 13 year old boy is nothing but an improbable male fantasy. "

"You certainly know how to take the fun out of what was going to be a good story." Kirk commented, pretending to be chargrined.

"I wasn't in the mood for BS, tonight."

"So, maybe some of the facts were tweaked a bit, but basically it was true."

"An Iowan boy's first kiss was with an Andorian girl with blue skin, white hair, and antennae growing out of her forehead?"

"Yeah, what's so strange about that?"

"It's just so improbable."

"But not impossible."

"James, you know as well as I that person naturally are more attracted to someone who shares their own culture and background. Also, physiologically speaking it makes much more sense to – at least – mate with someone of your own . . . " Hearing her own words caused Uhura to abruptly stop walking.

Realizing she was no longer walking with him, Kirk stopped and turned back to her. "Hey, what's wrong with you?"

Feeling her throat suddenly tighten, Uhura could only shake her head.

Sensing something troubling her, Kirk came close and spoke in a much softer, but playful tone. "Hey, Veronica, what's up?"

Uhura rolled her eyes, but she was not upset with yet another lame attempt by Kirk to guess her first name. Her distress came from within.

"I heard my Baba's2 voice come from my mouth."

"You mean your Dad, the bigot?"

"He's intolerant of alien races."

"How is that any different than what I just called him? A bigot is a bigot."

"He's my father . . . and I am his daughter. How can I live with someone like that throughout my formative years and not be affected by his racist beliefs?"

"You think you're a bigot? Is that what this is all about?"

"Did you hear what I just said about how it was natural for a person to be attracted to someone of their own race? How it was better to mate with someone of one's own race? I can't believe I said that."

When Kirk saw her lower her eyes in shame, he took her by the hand and sat her down on a nearby bench. There they could have a little more privacy out of the way of other cadets who were passing by.

"Why are you beating yourself up like that?" He asked.

She shook her head unable to speak and lowered her eyes.

Kirk continued. "Look, what you said about being attracted to someone of you own race has more to do with availability than anything else. My first kiss was with a blue-eyed 15-year old blonde named Penelope Swanson. The only thing alien about her was her penchant for chewing gum along with its wrapper."

Uhura looked up to Kirk with eyes seeming to question the validity of his memory.

"I swear, Uhura, this girl was freakin' weird, but . . . available. And, believe me 13-year old pimply-faced boys certainly can't be choosey."

Uhura looked at Kirk not sure she could image him with teenage acne. While his face now wore the scars of past altercations, the Iowan's rugged good looks and undeniable charm made him quite attractive to most women she knew.

Kirk continued, "And, your line about the need to mate with someone of your own race wasn't so far off the mark."

"Need I remind you that there was a time in Terran history that it would have been taboo for even the two of us to have a relationship."

"But that was based on prejudice, not medical fact. The two of us are human, so that's no longer an issue. However, there are legitimate biological reasons why it is difficult for a human and someone of an alien race to mate. Of course, if the couple isn't interested in having children it's all a moot point as long as the sex organs are compatible."

"James, do you think it is possible to truly be intimate with someone of an alien race?" Uhura was not sure if she had revealed too much by asking the question, but she had to know.

"Sex?"

"Not just sex . . . it's kind of hard to put it into words exactly what I mean." She paused, and then continued. "I guess I'm talking about an experience in which there develops a deep connection between two beings . . . a joining . . . an everlasting bond."

"Like a soul mate?" Kirk offered.

"Yeah, like a soul mate." Uhura replied pleased with the term.

Kirk reflected on the question and then told her, "I don't really know. But when one limits or disregards the possibility of a relationship based on ignorance or fear of someone different than oneself, you may lose that soul mate you've been searching for . . . as well as a good f**k."

Uhura's laughter never failed to make him smile. Kirk was glad to have raised her spirits and the feel of her arm wrapped about his as they resumed their walk to the Student Activities Center.

If Uhura is searching for a soul mate, Kirk thought happily, she need not look further than to me.

At first Spock felt awkward as he played T'Lau's ka'athyra, since the instrument was not sized for his longer limbs and hands. As T'Lau meditated on a mat only a few feet from him, he attempted to strum and pluck its strings with uneven results. The untrained ear would not have been able to hear a difference, but Spock knew better. He probably would have ended his performance, but he was fascinated by the device she had given him that offered a rich, expertly played accompaniment to his impromptu recital. Adjusting his hand position and hold of the instrument, he finally was able to produce a sound that was at least adequate for the evening's purpose.

By the time he reached his sixth and final selection on his playlist, Spock found himself immersed in Saatok's most intensely, passionate composition. Fed by thoughts of Uhura, the Vulcan's fingers danced across the strings. As the music swelled to a climax, Spock became possessed by his love for the East African he could not fully express.

His mind searched for her . . .

Nyota . . .

Wanting to be with her . . .

My Nyota . . .

Needing to touch her . . .

My mind to yours . . .

Longing to be one with her . . .

Let me love you . . .

And then, he heard her . . .

Rapid breathing . . . deep sighs . . . sensuous moans . . . interspersed with orgasmic cries . . .

Pulled out of his dreamlike trance, Spock quickly realized the sounds were not from Nyota, but T'Lau writhing against her own hand. After bringing the performance to a quick end, he covered T'Lau's naked body with the robe she had discarded during her carnal act. She appeared content as he left the woman spent, but satiated on the mat.

Although he had not touched T'Lau, he knew Nyota would hardly approve of this scenario. While he thought it unlikely she would learn of the night's events, Spock knew it was only a matter of time before Nyota would learn of something else that would even more likely displease her.

T'Lau was remain in San Francisco for the next three months until the StarShip Enterprise was full operational.

Author's Note: Your comments are always welcome.

1 "Ninapenda wewe" is Swahili for "I love you."

2 "Baba" is Swahili for "father."