Author's Note: The chapter continues the dramatization of a date between Spock and Uhura that began with the previous installment. After a lighthearted exchange of words and a water/pillow fight, the scene takes an ominous turn as it puts in doubt the continuation of duo's relationship.

Warning: I am sure readers will feel that neither one of the main characters come off well in this episode. Please wait until the next chapter before making any judgments. Like all of us, they both have some growing up to do.

Part of the chapter was inspired by a sermon I heard recently. Those familiar with the Bible can probably guess the text. However, you can certainly won't miss any nuance of the story by not knowing this scripture.

Your comments are always welcome.

In a faculty lounge of a closed building in the Academy's Physical Sciences Complex, Uhura and Spock continue their date. After eating a meal of Vranto Salad prepared by Spock, Uhura stood at the sink washing dishes. After a rinse, she would hand off the items to the Vulcan for drying.

"I apologize for the time we had to spend engaged in this duty." Spock commented. "I was not aware the cleanser unit had been removed already in preparation for the building's eventual demolition."

"Well, let's be thankful there's not too much to wash and there's still some dish soap left and a towel." Uhura replied. "I'm surprised though that so much is still intact . . . tables and chairs . . . even some of the accent pillows are still here."

"According to the schedule, all other salvageable items will be extracted from the building over the next three days. Then, the utilities will be disconnected."

"I wonder if someone will notice how well we have cleaned these dishes." She kidded. "I think they look better now than when we used them for our dinner."

"It is highly improbable anyone will notice the condition of these wares. However, that is irrelevant to our task. There is an ancient Vulcan saying, A good deed is its own reward."

Uhura gave the Spock a skeptical eye, "Sounds like a Confucian adage to me."

"I have no doubt that with his brilliant mind, Confucius may have approximated the truth embodied by the Vulcan proverb.

Uhura rolled her eyes, as the Vulcan arrogance never ceased to amaze her. She decided it best to redirect the conversation.

"You know, our activity reminds me of a 1950's American television program I once saw called, Leave It to Beaver. In one scene in particular, there was a depiction of a wife and husband washing dishes as a representation of domestic bliss. Of course, I believe if you had viewed the scene, you would have focused on her attire – a dress, fine jewelry and high heels. I'm sure you would have commented she dressed most inappropriately for the chore." She laughed lightly. "Still, I remember enjoying the show, despite the occasional lapse from reality."

Uhura glanced over to the Vulcan who seemed more intent on his task than on being attentive to her topic of conversation. Feeling playful, the East African thought she would press the matter.

"Spock, have you ever watched a Terran television show?"

"No." He answered curtly.

"Would you like to watch one with me? We can download one of the better programs from the global television archives just by using an iTablet."

"Nyota, watching a television program was never an activity I desired to experience."

"There's always the first time."

"You can say the same for a brain transplant, but I am just as determined not to undergo that endeavor either."

"I've heard you claim interest in the observation of human behavior. To me, television would be the perfect vehicle for the study of human conduct and values over time."

"Television was a highly addictive Terran pastime of your 20th and 21st century. At its height, humans watched it an average of 5 hours a day, which translated into 15.42 years in the average human life span. The device clearly demonstrated the fear turned into reality of the triumph of machine over people.1 Why should I risk damaging my own brain cells by subjecting myself to such drivel."

Uhura laughed. "Come on, Spock. I don't think it was that bad."

"Even the head of one of its regulatory agencies once called it a vast wasteland.2"

"From what I understand from an undergraduate course I took on classic television, the medium had the potential to inform, enlighten and engage millions of viewers at one time."

Spock set down his towel, as he asked incredulously, "Do you mean to tell me there exists a Terran institution of higher education offering a course giving academic credit on such a dubious enterprise as television?"

"I'm sure most colleges have such a course. And, why does that surprise you? You seem not to be shocked by any other activity we humans undertake that you would consider low brow." She commented good-naturedly.

"Universities should not pander to the lowest common denominator."

Uhura picked up his towel. "Baby, could you for once stop being such a snob and get back to work."

Before the Vulcan could react, he found the towel mischievously thrown into his face. Spock gave a look to the East African who stood before him with an impish grin.

"Nyota, that was completely uncalled for." He retorted.

"Oh, yeah?" Uhura replied, while placing her hands on her hips in a dare. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

When Spock did not react immediately, Uhura flashed a victorious smile and resumed washing dishes. As she did, she noticed the Vulcan picking up one of the cleaned glasses and filling it with water from the faucet.

"Are you thirsty, Ba . . ."

Uhura abruptly stopped her sentence as Spock splashed the cold contents of his glass into her face. With her mouth agape and uniform top becoming wet from the dripping water, she turned toward the Vulcan as though an innocent victim of his deed.

"While I was not a student of television, I am one of the art form known as cinema. The film, The Miracle Worker, concerns a teacher charged with instructing a child possessing several disabilities. In one particular scene when the child behaves badly, the teacher reacts by hurling water onto the student. I thought that example was most appropriate in this . . ."

The Vulcan was not able to move out of the way quickly enough, as the East African reached into the sink and hurled water into his face. Not waiting for his retaliation, Uhura grabbed one of the pillows from a chair. She then threw the cushion at Spock, but missed her target while taking refuge under one of the tulip top shaped tables.

She waited, but there seemed to be no movement on his part.

Seconds passed.

Then one – two – three minutes. She now wondered if he had left the room. Not able to see more than a few feet from her lowly vantage point, she decided to raise her head up and . . .

"Oh, shit!"

Uhura barely voiced the expletive as a barrage of three pillows found their target against her face, knocking her down to the floor. The Vulcan then stood over her with another pillow in hand.

He told her coolly, "In another film called, West Side Story, one of the character's find himself in quite a difficult circumstance in which the only recourse to avoid further punishment and embarrassment was to surrender. I do recall the operative word was, Uncle. Nyota, it would be wise for you to put this word to . . ."

Spock found himself tripped up by the sweep of one of her legs and fell hard against the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her scramble under another nearby table while she laughed with glee.

Despite the bruises he was sure he suffered, Spock was keenly aware of how the exuberant, though childish activity had aroused him. For the Vulcan, playtime would soon be over. He was anxious to pull her from her hiding place and move on to adult entertainments.

"Hey, what's this?" Spock heard Uhura's voice say. He picked himself off the floor and saw her standing with a gift-wrapped box in her hands. He now realized she had chosen to hide under the table where he had hidden his present.

"It's strange that someone would leave a package, here." She continued. "I wonder if we can find out who it belongs to."

Her remark gave Spock pause. Why would she not assume she was the intended receiver of the gift?

"There appears to be a tag, attached." He commented. "Perhaps, it will provide some clue to the intended receiver."

Uhura turned over the tag that had been facing down. "To Nyota." She read, in a baffled tone. "Who would leave a present for me, here?" She asked innocently.

Just as Spock abruptly cocked his head at an angle in awe of her cluelessness, Uhura broke out in laughter.

The Vulcan gave his rejoinder dipped in biting sarcasm. "It pleases me that you allowed me to play the part of the fool for your own enjoyment."

"Oh, Spock. You know full well you are worthy of my teasing. I know gift giving isn't part of your culture and you never previously demonstrated such inclinations."

Spock knew his irritation was more due to sexual frustration than her joking behavior. Yet, he felt it best not to be more forthcoming his current need. With the exception of the tightness of his crotch, the immediacy of his desire appeared to be passing.

He remarked, "I've actually had the present in my possession for quite some time. I was only waiting for the right moment for its reveal."

The East African shook the package. "I wonder what it is? Feels too light to be a book. And, the package is far too large for it to be a new earpiece or stylus for my iTablet. After all, from you I know it has to be something practical." Then, her face brightened. "I know. It might be a set of the Bajoran language data crystals I've wanted to add to my collection."

Spock drily advised. "The mystery would find resolution sooner, if you would simply open the package."

Uhura set the box unto the table, and then carefully removed the tag. She then took off the bow and meticulously began to pull off the tape holding the wrapping paper to the box.

Spock could sense his level of patience rapidly deteriorating, as her process appeared to be proceeding at a snail's pace. "Nyota, there is no need to be so cautious with this task. The wrapping paper is of little value."

"But it's on the first present you've ever given me. I want to save it for my scrapbook."

"I never knew you maintained a scrapbook?"

"I will after I buy one. The paper and bow will be the first entry."

Spock sat down in a chair, unable to accurately estimate how much longer it would take her to finally open gain access to the contents of the box. He watched with a detached eye as she removed the last bit of tape. With a delicate touch, she folded and creased the edges of the wrapping paper to create a rectangular shape approximately the size of her hand.

When Uhura finally removed the lid of the box to reveal an object wrapped in tissue paper, a feeling of dread came over the Vulcan. Spock wondered, Will she want to take time to unwrap each of the thin layers of tissue and prepare it for safekeeping as she did the wrapping paper?

However, to his relief, Uhura pulled back the tissue paper all at once. And, what she saw before her evoked no more words of jest or frivolity – but awe.Uhura wondered, How did he know?

To watch her now, filled him with great pleasure as she removed and unfolded the purple and yellow print cloth from its container. She looked at both sides of the material as her Bibi3 had taught her to verify its authenticity. "Oh, Spock you sent home for me. This is genuine kitenge fabric." She exclaimed as she ran her fingers over the material. "Ni nzuri sana!4"

But then, her joyful face soon turned into one of deep concern. Spock rose from his seat and asked her, "What is it, Nyota? Is there a flaw in the fabric?"

"No, Baby, I have never before held such an exquisite print. This textile bears no imperfections that I can see."

"Does it not please you to receive a gift which originated from your homeland?"

"Of course, I am pleased. For you to take the time to research and choose a present of my culture has moved me in ways words will not sufficiently express."

"Then, why does the expression on your face not match the one you wore when you first opened the box?

"I can tell by its quality this textile must have been quite expensive to produce. Moreover, you have demonstrated great generosity by providing more than enough material for a dress and head wrap. However . . . " She paused and slightly bowed her head. "I do not have the skills to transform this piece into a wearable garment. And, on my Cadet stipend I cannot afford a seamstress with the expertise required to create an outfit for me."

"Is this your only concern? Then, worry no longer. Of course, I will hire the appropriate person to perform this task. Did you not think I would do so?"

"It is not the way of my people to be so . . . needy. As you know, I have already accepted costly gifts from your mother.5 I cannot consent to the receipt of your present without giving the appearance of a beggar taking a drink of fine wine, when only water would more than suffice."

Spock let his eyes take in the East African. He thought, I have never known such a complicated woman.

"Nyota, your reasoning is quite illogical. Moments ago, you teased me for not previously bestowing such favors. Now that I have made an offering, another criticism has taken its place. Must there be a monetary limit on what I can spend on you at one time for it to be acceptable?"

"That is not the point." She quickly retorted. "Perhaps, we look at these matters so differently since you come from a much more privileged background than my own. My household may have been middle class, but there was no shortage of pride."

"In this case, Nyota, your pride is not an asset but an unwarranted hindrance."

"All right . . . all right, Spock." She snapped. "Let's face it, you just don't understand!"

The East African went back to the sink to finish washing the few remaining items. Even then, she knew her irritation had more to do with herself than the Vulcan's insistence on accepting his gift. As she toiled in silence, she tried to search for the right way to let him know what was really on her heart.

Spock came to her side and picked up the dishtowel that had fallen to the floor.

"The towel is no longer sanitary." He remarked. "I will arrange the remaining dishes on this counter to most effectively expose the greatest surface area to the air for drying purposes." When the East African failed to comment, he asks, "Nyota, do you agree with this strategy?"

"Yeah . . . yeah, that's fine with me." She replied.

After cleaning and rinsing the utensils, she turned to hand them to the Vulcan. Upon handing them off, a fork slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor. They both went down to the floor together and found their hands touching as they crouched and reached for the utensil at the same time.

Their eyes met.

As Spock began to withdraw his hand, Uhura held on to it tighter.

"Nyota, are you holding on to me to balance yourself while in this stance?"

"I just felt the need to touch you just now."

"This posture might be a little more comfortable if we rid ourselves of the fork between us."

Uhura nodded and unloosened her grip. Spock then withdrew the fork from their grasp and flipped it into the sink.

"Spock, do you mind if we sit down for a while. There's something I need to tell you."

"The floor in this area is a bit wet from our previous activity."

Uhura warily eyed him thinking, He's got to be kidding me.

"Spock, let's go sit on the couch."

Uhura released her hand from his as the two rose up from their crouch and seated themselves on the sofa.

"What is the topic of our conversation?" He asked.

"Swimming," was her response. "Did I ever tell you I grew up in Kisumu, a port city on Lake Victoria?"

"I do not believe you have previously provided that information. The lake you reference is the largest body of water within the continent of Africa, is it not?"

"That's right. However, like many of my people I had not taken the time to learn how to swim. It was not until I left my homeland to attend college that I finally decided to do something to rectify the problem. Still, I waited until my junior year at Harvard to actually take the beginner's swimming class."

"Was this during the same academically rigorous semester in which you elected the classic television course?"

"Spock . . . "She playfully warned him. "You don't want to start another fight with me, do you? Before I found your gift, I was getting the best of you. You know that, don't you?"

Recalling how the activity had excited his libido, Spock knew he would not mind reengaging in that action. Yet, this desire was tempered by the recognition there may be a larger purpose behind her story. Thus, the Vulcan decided just to nod and tell her, "Please proceed with your reminiscence."

"Our class size was small with no more than a dozen enrolled. Our instructor, Linda, took care to make us feel comfortable in the water. She started us in the shallow end of the pool and taught us the basic strokes. After a few weeks, most of my classmates had grown confident with their technique and began to venture out into the deep end the pool, with its greatest depth at 20 feet. By midterm, I was the only one left on the shallow side."

"You must have felt self-conscious and embarrassed."

"Oh, no. Not at all." She laughed at her recollection. "With the entire end to myself, I had the security of knowing my feet could at any time find the bottom of the pool and the water would only rise to mid-chest level. I felt in control and perfectly satisfied."

"I believe I sense a conjunction forthcoming."

"But, Linda wasn't satisfied with my progress. One day, she informed me I wouldn't pass the course unless I could demonstrate my skills at the other end of the pool. I know she could tell by the look on my face I would be headed to the registrar's office to drop the course as soon as the session was over. After all, I didn't really need the course credit and I had reached my goal of learning how to swim. I felt it really wasn't necessary for me to prove anything else to anyone."

Uhura paused. "Spock." She finally said. "I am waiting for your next interjection. How does the story end?"

"It is obvious. Your story follows a traditional, almost cliché pattern. With the guidance of your instructor, you overcame your inclination to be risk aversive. Instead, you found the courage and tenacity required to exceed the pedestrian boundaries you had set for yourself. You not only passed the class, but also broke three world swimming records in the process."

"No, Spock. That's not what happened at all. Linda signed my drop slip. She didn't even try to convince me to stay in the course. But, I'm not blaming her. It was my decision and I chose to play it safe."

The Vulcan turned his head from her as if reassessing her words. The East African realized the story may affect his opinion of her; however, she decided she must follow through with her original intent.

"Spock, I know my admission may have caused a blemish upon an image you may have had of me. But, I needed you to know who I really am. With all of the uncertainties that mark the future of our relationship, I've got to be careful not to get in over my head. Baby, now do you understand the part of me which became so reluctant to accept your gift?"

The Vulcan abruptly rose up from the sofa and his next words found no shelter in subtleties. "Then, you should go now while you still can find your footing."

"What?" She uttered, as she stood up in disbelief.

"Go, now Nyota while you still can still cloak yourself in the comfort of what is known, tried and true."

"Spock, you have misconstrued the intent of my disclosure." She said in an attempt to reason with him. "I only wanted to make you aware of my own insecurities regarding our relationship. Nothing more."

But the Vulcan did not hear those words as his ears were closed to her. He heard only what he feared was the inevitable - the stark, empty reality of a life without his Nyota. He knew what he must do.

I cannot . . .

I cannot live like this . . .

Wanting her, but not knowing if she will ever give herself to me . . .

I have to push her away . . .

Get her away from me, now . . .

So I can begin to close this open wound . . .

And, never dare to love, again.

"Nyota, I too have a story to tell." He began coolly. "I promise you, it's meaning will be quite apparent. Shall I proceed?"

"Oh, Spock . . . " She whispered and turned from him. But, the Vulcan needed her undivided attention. He could not wield these chosen words and not have her feel its full impact. So, with one forceful movement, he took her by the shoulders and turned her back toward him.

"As a Cadet, I came to know a human woman named Leila Kalomi. Although I did not voice her name at the time, I believe I referenced her once during our pre-courtship stage. She was the one of whom I remarked, Being with her was the first time I could truly say I was happy.6"

"Yes, I remember." Uhura conceded. "I assume you were in love with her."

"Why do you use the past tense?"

The Vulcan's question numbed the East African. She stood mute for a few moments, until she could once again find her tongue. "You're still in love with her?"

"I have heard more than one human claim they had fallen out of love with someone. However, I do not understand how that is possible. If this emotion was actually experienced, then how can it be there one day and not another? It is not logical."

"But, Spock, if you're still in love with her . . . " She did not want to feel this sharp pain, but it was there and she did not know how to relieve herself of it.

The Vulcan continued, "Although we were discreet, we had none of our issues of concealing our relationship since we were peers. We could find time to be together and, yes, indulge in sexual intimacies, as well. Anyone observing the trajectory of our relationship would believe it was headed for something long lasting. However, that prediction turned out to be ill-conceived."

Silence.

Spock continued. "Love is not enough . . . sex is not enough. When two beings are as different as Leila and I, conflicts are inevitable. Under those circumstances, both parties must be committed to finding common ground upon which to build a strong foundation to withstand those disruptions. I finally realized . . . I was not ready or willing to do that for Leila."

Three beats.

He continued dispassionately, "Perhaps, I am also not ready or willing to do this for you, Nyota. It would be best to realize we are at an impasse that cannot be brokered."

There was no air . . .

She found herself suffocating on the deep sorrow taking hold of her . . .

She had to get out . . .

She had to get away from him . . .

She had to get away before the tears would come crashing down.

Without looking at Spock, Uhura slipped into her jacket. In an attempt to escape the room quickly, she took up the straps to her bag so hastily, some of the contents spilled out unto the floor.

Damn it! She cursed herself as she crouched down to retrieve her items.

And then, suddenly her eye caught the sight of something that had slipped her mind . . . an unopened envelope containing a letter Spock had written to her during her first year at the Academy.

Her first impulse was to leave it where it lay. She told herself, I'm through with Spock! Never will I allow him to hurt me like that, again!

But, Uhura felt her body tremble and legs give way as she slumped down onto the floor, overcome by the pain of his words.

Damn it! The East African cursed herself, again. You're certainly giving Spock quite a pathetic show.

The letter was now right at her fingertips and she decided bitterly, I might as well read it. It ought to be good for a few laughs.

Just as her fingers grasped the envelope, she felt Spock's strong hands once again on her shoulders, this time to lift her up off the floor.

"You must not do this to yourself, Nyota." He angrily scolded her. "I am not worth your distress."

Uhura tore herself from his grasp and stood before him with a fervor that matched his anger. "Oh, no, Spock. Do not flatter yourself. I tremble not because of you, but upon the realization of what a fool I have been to have loved you so. Why I ever thought you and I ever had a chance I'll never know . . . we're just too different . . . there were just too many obstacles to overcome."

The East African turned over the envelope to break the flap's seal. She continued. "So, now there is only one thing I need to do as a fitting closure to this overwrought fantasy."

Spock suddenly recognized in her hands the communication he had written to Uhura 2 ½ years ago. "Nyota, why do you have that letter? Has it never been opened?"

The East African tore the envelope and pulled out the folded page. "Dr. Greeley just gave it to me, yesterday. She confessed to holding on to it for so long out of concern for my feelings. If you will recall the circumstance, on the previous day you visited her class as a guest lecturer. As a first year student, I sought to impress you with my Vulcan language skills, but failed miserably."

"You mispronounced only one word." He corrected her. "It was an easy error to make for any novice Vulcan speaker. As for the letter you are holding, I entrusted it to Dr. Greeley believing she would serve as a reliable medium for the exchange. When you appeared to be oblivious of the communication in the days and weeks following my request to Dr. Greeley, I surmised my colleague had misplaced it, thrown it away, or simply failed to follow my instructions."

"Dr. Greeley thought the letter would contain a criticism that might somehow dishearten me at that early stage of my studies. That's why she saved it until I passed my exams."

"Whatever the reason for the untimely delay, it would serve no useful purpose to read it, now." Spock offered. "If you hand it to me, I will dispose of it properly."

Uhura stepped back. "Oh, no you don't, Spock. When I walk out that door, I don't want there to be any unfinished business."

As Uhura unfolded the page and set her eyes upon the words, Spock turned away. It was not the message he wanted her to hear . . . not now.

Author's Note: All right – don't hate me for stopping the chapter at this point. You'll find out what is in the letter with my next posting.

Your comments are always welcome.

1 Comedian Fred Allen first coined the saying.

2 Federal Communications Chairman Newton N. Minow first made this charge in 1961.

3 The Swahili word for grandmother.

4 The words are Swahil for "It is very beautiful!"

5 See Chapter 28 of my story, "Needs."

6 See Chapter 8 of my story, "Needs."