Author's Note: This chapter deals with the aftermath of the break-up of Uhura and Spock's relationship, from the East African's POV. When she begins to feel immobilized by the experience, she recalls a conversation about Spock she once had with teahouse manager, Diarmuid. Later, Uhura reflects on her reaction to the letter the Spock wrote to her 2 ½ years ago, which only recently came into her possession.
She felt . . . numb . . .
Uhura awakened in her bed that morning and felt as if the nerve endings throughout her entire body had been deadened . . .
Numb to . . .
Pleasure . . .
Pain . . .
Joy . . .
Sadness . . .
Serenity . . .
Anxiety . . .
She could not feel . . .
Anything . . .
It had not been a dream . . .
The breakup with Spock was all . . .
Too real . . .
Too recent . . .
Too fresh in her mind.
The East African turned her head and saw Gaila still asleep in the bed across from her. When Uhura returned to her dorm room the previous night, she was only grateful for the fact she had done so before her roommate. She changed into her sleepwear, climbed beneath her covers, and feigned sleep just before the Orion entered.
Uhura could not talk about what happened between her and Spock . . .
She could not speak about a clandestine love affair that seemed destined to be a lesson in futility from the start . . .
It was over and she knew she needed to let it go . . .
But, right now . . .
All she could feel was . . . numb.
Uhura turned her head toward the chronometer on the dresser.
5:38 AM. If I get up now, she told herself, I could take a shower, dress and go to the floor lounge before Gaila awakens. Then, I'd have plenty of time to review my notes for today's Romulan lesson, before catching the SkyBus to Berkeley to meet with Mr. Sevat.
In the shower stall, Uhura stood beneath the water and waited for the force of the stream to caress her body. When it seemed not to give her the desire effect, she moved the temperature control until the water became so hot it stung her skin upon contact.
At least, she reasoned, I feel something.
She did not want to think of him . . .
She wanted such thoughts to be as dead as her emotions . . .
But . . .
He was still there . . .
In the form of a memory about him . . .
And, she did not . . . she could not resist the scene playing out within her, again.
The East African immediately recognized the scene as occurring during one of the tea lessons she had with Diarmuid shortly before she would leave to spend the holidays in New York with Shaniqua – one of the precious ones.
"I don't think I've ever had Irish tea, before." Uhura commented.
"We just call it, tea, girl." Diarmuid remarked as he opened a tin. "Now take a good whiff of that."
Uhura moved her face close to his outstretched hand holding the tin and inhaled.
"It's a mixture of black teas from the Assam region of India and Sri Lanka."
"It has a stronger aroma than the other varieties we've tried thus far."
"Of course, it does. I can't imagine starting my day with anything less than a full-bodied cup of tea."
Uhura nodded toward the clear teapot sitting atop a small portable heating unit. "The bubbles are starting to form. Is it all right now to add the tea leaves to the infuser?"
"It's got to be a rolling boil." He looked at her and smiled lasciviously. "All good things are worth the wait."
Although Diarmuid could be annoying, Uhura appreciated the lessons. She wanted to learn as much as possible about one of Spock's passions.
"When it's time, I'm supposed to add one teaspoon of tea leaves per cup of water, right?"
"You've been doing your homework." He commended her.
"It's not easy to find the time, but I manage."
"You know, you really don't have to go through all the trouble of learning about all of this. Obviously, you've got something else he's taken a liking to."
Seeing the water now boiling, Uhura began to place the tea leaves into the infuser.
Ignoring his words, she asked, "How long should it steep? Four or five minutes?
"Depends on my mood. Four at minimum, but sometimes I like it to have a more robust taste so I take it up to 5 minutes. The brew turns bitter if you take it much past that point."
Uhura closed the tin and looked at her chronometer. "That means, I should serve it in 3 minutes, 52 seconds. What will you have in it?
"Now, that's where Spock and I differ." Diarmuid picked up a small pitcher and began to pour its contents into his teacup. "I fill about a third of my cup with milk, then I'll add the tea. The Vulcan likes it straight."
Sounds like Spock, she thought to herself. "No additives for Spock." She remarked as she made a note to herself on her iTablet.
"I don't know if that's true. Obviously, he likes a taste of your brown sugar. You must be a real tigress in the bed."
This time Irishman's comments evoked the East African's glare. "Diarmuid, there are some subjects that are strictly off limits."
"Oh, girl, relax the cax. I didn't mean any offense. It's just that anyone who has known him as long as me knows you've got to have something special to keep him coming back for more. From what I've observed, on average he's more of a one and done man."
"Well, I'm not interested in Spock's past relationships with other women." Uhura retorted, knowing she was only partly speaking the truth. Uhura was, indeed, curious but did not to hear anything that would exacerbate her own sexual insecurities.
"Relationships? That's not the word I'd use to describe his dealings with women. From what I could see, that's not the way he dealt with them on the ship or the ones he brought here to the teahouse."
Uhura hesitated to ask, but his last comment had piqued her interest. She remarked, "For Spock, tea functions appears to function as something more than a beverage. The act of preparing and drinking tea seems to serve as a conduit for him to express feelings of intimacy. For those women he brought to the teahouse, there must have been more between them than what someone could simply observe."
"With the women he wants to bed, tea is both his liquor and aphrodisiac. As you must know, that man knows how to work it to get his female companion to do whatever he damn well pleases. By the time they leave here, there's no doubt he's going to get some. There's nothing more to it than that."
Uhura nodded stupidly and then cursed herself for doing so. What did you expect him to say? She asked herself.
"So, that's why I know you must really got something he can't get enough of."
Uhura checked her chronometer in an effort to distract him from the current subject. "Less than a minute now before I can pour the tea." She picked up the milk pitcher. "I think I'll try it with milk this time. How much should I use?"
"About a third of your cup."
The East African followed the advice. "Hmmmm . . . seems like a lot."
"The tea will stand up to it, don't worry."
After checking the time once more, she announced, "It's ready." She poured the tea into both of their cups.
The Irishman watched as she brought a cup to her lips and sipped the brew. "What do you think?" He asked as he took his own tasting.
"Even with the milk, its bold flavor comes through." She lifted the cup to her lips, again, taking another sip. This time she let the liquid sit in her mouth for a few moments, before swallowing as she had seen Spock do with the beverage. "Now, I think I understand what is meant about it being a full-bodied tea. It has such a rich aroma and taste."
"Already you're developing a more sensitive palate. Between me and your loverboy, you'll become a real connoisseur in about ten years or so."
"That soon?" She laughed lightly.
"Like a fine wine or a good cheese, I can't think of anything worth having that doesn't take a bit of time to develop. Same goes for relationships."
"I wonder Vulcans feels the same way." She said, half-joking.
"I doubt it. They're not like us at all." He retorted with no hesitation.
"I know you've known him much longer than me, but there are aspects about him that may surprise even you." Uhura spoke up. "In his own way, Spock can be quite patient. Much more so than I believe most men would be regardless of their planet of origin."
"I'll grant you, Spock actually does have a few attributes that legitimately could be called virtues. However, patience is not one of them."
Uhura smiled smugly as she took another drink of her tea.
"Oh!" He laughed. "I see you're giving me the look."
"What look?" She asked with mock innocence.
"The look that's saying, 'You don't know what you're talking about, so you can just go f**k yourself.'"
The Cadet joined in his laughter. "I wouldn't say it like that."
"But that's what you were thinking."
"Look, Diarmuid, you're not going to put words into my mouth. I just know from my experience, Spock can be quite a patient man."
"Is that right? So, tell me what is your definition of patience?"
Uhura took a few moments to find the words for her answer. "Patience is the ability to tolerate deprivation, pain or some other problem without complaint or resorting to anger or frustration."
"Do you really think that describes Spock?" Diarmuid asked in a skeptic tone.
"Apparently, you don't quite agree." She commented, not sure why he questioned her perception of the Vulcan.
"I would say the word, calculating, better fits Spock. What you call patience is just a tool he is using as part of his scheme to get what he wants."
"Diarmuid, you make it sound so devious and cold." She remarked disapprovingly. "Perhaps, he actually does care about me and is considering my feelings in the matter."
"I'm just trying to get you to understand that the Vulcan is not motivated by what is best for you. That's not the way he thinks."
"If you're trying to convince me not to be involved with Spock, you're wasting your breath. Believe me, I am well aware of all the reasons why our relationship can't or shouldn't work."
"Hey, now. Why are you getting yourself all worked up? I'm just giving you what you want."
"What do you mean by that? All I asked from you is to teach me how to become more knowledgeable on tea."
"Right." The Irishman laughed. "If that's what you want to tell yourself, but we both know better, don't we?"
"Well maybe you better let me in on it, because I don't know what you're talking about."
"Darling girl, if you only wanted to learn about tea, you're certainly smart enough to buy some samples and read about it yourself."
"You know that's not the same as what one would learn from personal instruction." She replied.
"Then, you could have asked your loverboy to oblige. I told you when you first asked me about the lessons that the Vulcan probably would not care for this arrangement. But, you had another motive for coming to me."
"Which is?" She asked, as if doubting whether he really had an answer.
"You're looking for information to better help you understand Spock."
When Uhura failed to respond right away, Diarmuid smiled knowing he had correctly uncovered her motive. He picked up the teapot and topped off her cup, before refilling his.
"It's all right, Uhura. I don't mind being used." He kidded her. "Any reason to be in the company of such a pretty woman is fine with me."
"But, I'm not a schemer." She said in an attempt to defend herself. "Talking about Spock wasn't the initial reason why I approached you about the lessons."
"Which further illustrates my point about the difference between us and Vulcans. For you, learning more about Spock is an unexpected byproduct of our activity. However, if the Vulcan were in your place, don't you know he would have already identified all of the possible benefits, as well as, any disadvantages before making the decision as to whether to make such an arrangement. It would have been a straight-up conscious decision. Do you now understand why I called Spock a calculating person? It's no offense. It is what it is."
Deep in thought, Uhura took a sip from her cup. To the East African, Diarmuid was right about one thing – she had viewed Spock's behavior from a human perspective. However, having never previously developed a close relationship with a Vulcan, at present, she had no other context to understand his way of thinking. Insecurity and doubt now began to creep into her heart. She wondered . . .
"Diarmuid." She called to him. "You said earlier that Spock is motivated by what is best for himself. So . . . as for him being with me . . . Is there something I should know? Something that I may be missing between the two of us?"
Diarmuid's laughter rang loudly in her ears. She now felt foolish for even asking.
"So, now, you're testing me." He remarked. "Trying to see if I really got Spock's back or not, right?"
"I guess I couldn't put one over on you." The East African agreed, although knowing she was not sure what Diarmuid meant.
"All right . . . all right. Just so you have it for the record I'll say it. That Vulcan is crazy about you. In all my years of knowing him, I've never seen him look at a woman the way he does when he's in your company. Damn near human, I'd say."
When Diarmuid saw her face light up with joy, he realized his words had served another purpose.
"Didn't you know, girl?"
"Yes. But . . . " It was difficult to tell him what was on her heart. Uhura appreciated his insights on Spock, yet, did not feel as comfortable confiding with him as she did with the precious ones1 and Academy friends like Kirk, McCoy and Gaila. Luckily, she did not have to.
"It's all right. You don't have to tell me what's going on with you. What you're feeling right now, I've seen in him." He told her. "The Vulcan is scared, too."
Uhura arrived more than 22 minutes early at the Berkeley campus for a Romulan language lesson with Sevat. Remembering his strict instruction for her to wait in the lobby until he came for her, she settled down on a bench. With so much time, she opened her bag to retrieve her earpiece to listen to a language data crystal.
And then, she saw it . . .
His letter . . . written for her 2 ½ years ago . . .
His letter . . . given to her advisor, Dr. Greeley, to pass along to her promising young student . . .
It's not even worth keeping, Uhura told herself. Yet, she wondered, Why haven't I thrown it away? Did I still want to continue reliving the events of last night?
In a faculty lounge of a closed building in the Academy's Physical Sciences Complex, Uhura and Spock stood opposite each other. They were joined only by the pain of the impending end of their affair.
With the envelope in her hand, the East African turned it over to break the flap's seal. She told him, "So, now there is only one thing I need to do as a fitting closure to this overwrought fantasy."
"Nyota, why do you have that letter? Has it never been opened?" Spock asked.
The East African tore the envelope open 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, she noticed Spock turning away. His reaction emboldened her. She reasoned, There obviously must be something in here he doesn't want me to see.
She read:
Ms. Uhura,
I write this communication to you the day after my visit to Dr. Greeley's Vulcanology course as a guest lecturer. Thinking about the experience, I find myself reflecting upon your attempt to speak the language of my home planet. Since Xenolinguistics is your chosen field of study, I am sure you will appreciate my objective assessment of your performance, which, indeed, was far from flawless.
A typical Spock comment, she said to herself as she rolled her eyes. Perhaps, Dr. Greeley was right to keep the letter all this time.
She continued reading:
However, considering the obvious disadvantage you must endure under the tutelage of Dr. Greeley, I can understand the lack of preciseness in your speech. Thus, in the spirit of academe, I offer my superior expertise to you to engage in conversation of my native tongue as an aid to your instruction.
To take advantage of this unique opportunity, contact my Course Assistant at my office to set up your first appointment.
Mr. Spock
Uhura reread the letter to herself, but her impression of it did not change. There appeared to be no hidden meanings or indications of his attraction to her. Despite the current circumstance, she could not help but feel disappointed.
Then, at the bottom of the page, Uhura saw a few words written in Vulcan script – "Tevul-tor Vi' Tu." Literally, she knew the phrase translated as "Crash Into You." However,that did not make any sense and she was not about to ask Spock to explain the meaning of the term at this time.
The East African felt the Vulcan's eyes on her. She looked up, but his intense focus did not change.
"Now that you have read the letter, I will dispose of it for you." He held out his hand, but soon realized she would not comply. He watched as she refolded the letter and placed it back in her bag,
"It was meant for me, so I'll keep it and will decide when or if I will dispose of it."
Uhura's response finally quieted him on the matter. While she still wondered why he had been so insistent on retrieving the letter, the East African was not going to stay around and discuss it. The hurt he had caused her that evening had not diminished. She decided she needed to get away from him and nurse her wounds in private. Without another word, she left the room.
After Uhura reached the outdoors, she walked quickly toward her dorm hoping she would not run into anyone she knew. While keeping her eyes down with a single purpose in mind, she suddenly sensed she was being followed. Turning on her heels, she spotted Spock 20 feet behind her.
The East African walked up to him, straining to keep her anger under control. "Tell me, Mr. Spock, just what do you think you're doing?"
"I am making sure that you arrive to your destination, safely."
"Mr. Spock, weren't you the one with me during the last hour? Do you have any clue to how I am feeling at this moment?"
"It is obvious from your tone of voice and stiff posture you are experiencing a state of extreme agitation."
"And, do you understand the cause of this agitation?"
"I am sure my presence in your vicinity is at fault." He replied drily.
"Then, I am sure you can figure out how you can provide a remedy for this condition."
"Ms. Uhura, I truly doubt if my immediate departure would do much to alleviate your current mood. You appear to have chosen to adopt this ill-disposition and have no plans to rid yourself of it, soon."
Uhura searched for a fitting retort, but could only stammer out, "Oh . . . Oh, yeah?"
"Furthermore, I am the one who invited you to spend the evening with me. Despite what occurred earlier, I am not relieved of my duty."
"What duty?" She asked incredulously.
"My duty to ensure your safe passage to your living quarters." He stated as if a matter of fact.
"Mr. Spock, I neither expected or desired your company after I thought I had left you back at the Physical Science Complex. I am quite capable of walking unescorted anywhere I please."
"Your opinion is irrelevant. The obligation must be completed." The Vulcan stated coolly.
She wanted to SCREAM! But, Uhura chose to swallow her outrage, turn toward her destination and quicken her earlier pace. Finally reaching her dorm, she did not look back as the door shut behind her.
It's over. Uhura told herself, as she sat in the lobby awaiting Sevat. You know your Bibi2 would tell you, Mpende akupandaye.3
Sighting a nearby paper recycle bin, the East African fished Spock's letter out of her bag and moved across the room with the intention of throwing it away. Just as she began to release it, Uhura heard her name called by Sevat.
Perhaps, I'll wait until tomorrow to take Bibi's advice. And with that thought, she unexpectedly found herself laughing at such an irrational choice. Oh, girl, she told herself as she placed the letter back in her bag, You are a mess!
Author's Note: The next post depicts the events of the latter part of this chapter from Spock's POV. Also, the Vulcan learns of Uhura's lessons with Sevat.
Your comments are always welcome.
1 Uhura's closest girlfriends of her pre-Academy days.
2 Bibi is the Swahili word for grandmother.
3 The saying translates as, "Love only the one who loves you."