Ficlet: The Chair - Star Trek Reboot, Spock/Uhura
A little ficlet for 
amazonziti because she deserves good things
It's her turn to face death tomorrow. Nyota's just gotten over the Euvorian flu that spread around the dorm faster than a rumor about Jim Kirk's latest stunt, and she still managed to complete her quarter-final Interrogation and Intonation lab, so she snaps at Spock when he offers to reschedule.
"No, I can do it."
"I did not mean to imply that you are in any way incapable of completing the test, merely that you might wish to feel at your best when facing it."
Nyota sighs and rolls her shoulders. "I'm sorry, Spock. I'm nervous, and putting it off will only make me feel worse."
"There is no need to be nervous," he says. He rests his hands on her shoulders, and their warmth soothes her. "I have complete confidence in you."
She's not worried about passing or failing. She's worried about how she's going to handle sitting in that chair.
People have been telling Nyota that she doesn't have to do what she does since she decided to join Starfleet. Before, actually, though they used different words. In the Academy, her instructors and often, her friends, told her she didn't have to try so hard. She was skilled, she was great, she didn't have to push herself. Push at the curve, they meant. Make everyone else uncomfortable. She gets what she wants without apologizing for how good she is at getting it.
She didn't need to take the Kobiyashi Maru. It was for command track cadets, and since Xenolinguistics wasn't the most popular focus for would-be captains, taking the test wasn't a requirement.
Nyota wasn't taking it to qualify for command. And she wasn't taking it to prove that she could, which was what she heard behind those questions, those people telling her she didn't have to bother.
She was taking the Kobiyashi Maru because she wanted to know what a no-win scenario felt like. She wanted to know how she would handle herself. She could theorize and watch someone else do it, but nothing told her more about herself than taking action. So that's what she's going to do.
There's a moment when the Valdemar crosses into the neutral zone and the Kobiyashi Maru's distress call flickers in that Nyota wishes more than anything that she was stationed in front of the Communication console and not in the chair with the wide expanse of space stretching out in front of her. Then the Klingons fire on them and she's sending them to red alert. Nyota finds herself practicing the breathing exercise her first year semantics teacher taught her to parse out the correct syllables between breaths for any of the Kepler-62 languages, and her voice doesn't shake as badly as she'd feared when she gives the order to abandon ship.
Spock spreads her knees, keeping his palms on them until her legs are open as wide as he wants them, and then he slides his hands up her thighs, thumbs skating across the sensitive skin, making her jump.
She was barely inside her quarters when Spock congratulated her on passing the exam, and as soon as the words were out of his mouth, stepped into her space and kissed her deeply. He was trembling.
"Is this - "
"Yes," she groans out, because this is still new for them - not sex, but this kind of sex, this need and immediacy, she likes it. She wants to let Spock know he can ask her for this - they can ask for this from each other.
Spock licks the inside of her thigh, and then presses his tongue against her where she's slick and wet. Nyota throws her head back, lets her shoulders fall against the pillow. Spock's mouth is so hot, and his need to show her how he feels with his body makes her match his urgency.
"Do you want to climax like this?" Spock asks, looking up from between her legs, his chin glistening.
God yes, she wants to come so badly, but her mind clears enough she realizes she wants to come with Spock inside her.
She says as much, a little breathily, and Spock makes a noise deep in his throat and begins undressing.
Nyota watches him, and rubs her breasts, squeezing a little, and Spock, suddenly naked, skin flushed, bends close and says, "Allow me," and sucks her nipple into his mouth.
Nyota arches, digs her fingers into his hair, and pulls him down. They rock against each other, and then Nyota turns them on their sides and hikes a leg up over Spock's hips.
“Like this,” she says.
"I am yours to direct," Spock says, and he slides so slowly inside of her that Nyota's starting to clench around him before he's all the way in.
"Oh god, yes, yes," she gasps, her heels digging sharp and urgent into his back. Spock presses a kiss to her temple and she comes, feeling perfectly alive.
Spock is quiet beside her, and Nyota reaches for his hand and twines their fingers.
"I feel I must explain the impetus behind my - " Spock flounders for the word, "Desperation."
"You don't have to explain, Spock," Nyota says.
"It did not occur to me - You had participated in the simulation crew multiple times. However, watching you in the captain's chair, I could too easily imagine your bravery, your self-sacrifice, your admirable sense of duty leading you into a situation like the scenario of the test, from which there was no escape."
"It was just a test," Nyota says, but she felt it, too. The fear. The inevitability. Spock had designed a perfect no-win scenario because it was so terrifyingly possible.
"Like all things you face as a cadet - you do not give any less than what you would offer of yourself in the face of death."
She pulls Spock close. "The next time I face death, I don't want you watching from behind an observation screen. I want you at my side."
"Understood," Spock says, and she believes him.
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amazonziti because she deserves good things
It's her turn to face death tomorrow. Nyota's just gotten over the Euvorian flu that spread around the dorm faster than a rumor about Jim Kirk's latest stunt, and she still managed to complete her quarter-final Interrogation and Intonation lab, so she snaps at Spock when he offers to reschedule.
"No, I can do it."
"I did not mean to imply that you are in any way incapable of completing the test, merely that you might wish to feel at your best when facing it."
Nyota sighs and rolls her shoulders. "I'm sorry, Spock. I'm nervous, and putting it off will only make me feel worse."
"There is no need to be nervous," he says. He rests his hands on her shoulders, and their warmth soothes her. "I have complete confidence in you."
She's not worried about passing or failing. She's worried about how she's going to handle sitting in that chair.
People have been telling Nyota that she doesn't have to do what she does since she decided to join Starfleet. Before, actually, though they used different words. In the Academy, her instructors and often, her friends, told her she didn't have to try so hard. She was skilled, she was great, she didn't have to push herself. Push at the curve, they meant. Make everyone else uncomfortable. She gets what she wants without apologizing for how good she is at getting it.
She didn't need to take the Kobiyashi Maru. It was for command track cadets, and since Xenolinguistics wasn't the most popular focus for would-be captains, taking the test wasn't a requirement.
Nyota wasn't taking it to qualify for command. And she wasn't taking it to prove that she could, which was what she heard behind those questions, those people telling her she didn't have to bother.
She was taking the Kobiyashi Maru because she wanted to know what a no-win scenario felt like. She wanted to know how she would handle herself. She could theorize and watch someone else do it, but nothing told her more about herself than taking action. So that's what she's going to do.
There's a moment when the Valdemar crosses into the neutral zone and the Kobiyashi Maru's distress call flickers in that Nyota wishes more than anything that she was stationed in front of the Communication console and not in the chair with the wide expanse of space stretching out in front of her. Then the Klingons fire on them and she's sending them to red alert. Nyota finds herself practicing the breathing exercise her first year semantics teacher taught her to parse out the correct syllables between breaths for any of the Kepler-62 languages, and her voice doesn't shake as badly as she'd feared when she gives the order to abandon ship.
Spock spreads her knees, keeping his palms on them until her legs are open as wide as he wants them, and then he slides his hands up her thighs, thumbs skating across the sensitive skin, making her jump.
She was barely inside her quarters when Spock congratulated her on passing the exam, and as soon as the words were out of his mouth, stepped into her space and kissed her deeply. He was trembling.
"Is this - "
"Yes," she groans out, because this is still new for them - not sex, but this kind of sex, this need and immediacy, she likes it. She wants to let Spock know he can ask her for this - they can ask for this from each other.
Spock licks the inside of her thigh, and then presses his tongue against her where she's slick and wet. Nyota throws her head back, lets her shoulders fall against the pillow. Spock's mouth is so hot, and his need to show her how he feels with his body makes her match his urgency.
"Do you want to climax like this?" Spock asks, looking up from between her legs, his chin glistening.
God yes, she wants to come so badly, but her mind clears enough she realizes she wants to come with Spock inside her.
She says as much, a little breathily, and Spock makes a noise deep in his throat and begins undressing.
Nyota watches him, and rubs her breasts, squeezing a little, and Spock, suddenly naked, skin flushed, bends close and says, "Allow me," and sucks her nipple into his mouth.
Nyota arches, digs her fingers into his hair, and pulls him down. They rock against each other, and then Nyota turns them on their sides and hikes a leg up over Spock's hips.
“Like this,” she says.
"I am yours to direct," Spock says, and he slides so slowly inside of her that Nyota's starting to clench around him before he's all the way in.
"Oh god, yes, yes," she gasps, her heels digging sharp and urgent into his back. Spock presses a kiss to her temple and she comes, feeling perfectly alive.
Spock is quiet beside her, and Nyota reaches for his hand and twines their fingers.
"I feel I must explain the impetus behind my - " Spock flounders for the word, "Desperation."
"You don't have to explain, Spock," Nyota says.
"It did not occur to me - You had participated in the simulation crew multiple times. However, watching you in the captain's chair, I could too easily imagine your bravery, your self-sacrifice, your admirable sense of duty leading you into a situation like the scenario of the test, from which there was no escape."
"It was just a test," Nyota says, but she felt it, too. The fear. The inevitability. Spock had designed a perfect no-win scenario because it was so terrifyingly possible.
"Like all things you face as a cadet - you do not give any less than what you would offer of yourself in the face of death."
She pulls Spock close. "The next time I face death, I don't want you watching from behind an observation screen. I want you at my side."
"Understood," Spock says, and she believes him.
You can also read this entry on Dreamwidth (
comments)