Love's Stratagems 1/3
Author: OneMillionandNine
Characters/Pairings: Nu!Spock/Uhura
Rating:NC17
Warnings: none but sex
Summary: PreQuelicious
Beta: MaybeAmanda'> In the years between Spock's birth and his admittedly impulsive
decision to turn down the spot offered him at the Science
Academy, two words seemed to accompany his every act, his
every breath, for better or worse: 'half' and 'Human'. Hearing
the words, "There goes the half-Human, Spock; observe the
child's gait," for instance, was one of his earliest memories. It
had been irrelevant to the speaker that the child had not yet
made a complete cycle of revolution around the fiery red sun
and was thus quite unaccustomed to bipedal locomotion.
As a child he quickly learned that any foot set outside his
parents' home was a step into a public space where his Vulcan-
ness, and therefore also his Human-ness, would be measured.
The inescapable phrase "half-Human" summed up his entire
existence - it either rendered his accomplishments more
noteworthy, or it carved his mistakes in stone before they had
even occurred. Spoken or unspoken, the epithet accompanied
him everywhere. Though he followed the traditions and
teachings of his father's people from, quite literally, the moment
of his birth, in the darkest recesses of his mind, Spock
wondered if he might not, with his Human mother and imperfect
capacity for self-control, truly belong among Humans.
The illusion did not last beyond his first day as a Starfleet
Cadet. That he had been born of a Human female meant
nothing to his instructors and less to his fellow cadets. Over
the next three years he learned to respond to the Terran
designation for his home world, 'Vulcan'. As in "Hey, Vulcan."
At home, it had been a source of wonder that a half-Human
could manage to surpass not only the others in his age group
but much older students as well. At Starfleet, it seemed his
achievements were often taken for granted, either with the
common, "What do you expect from a Vulcan?" or, more than
once, with the comment, "And Spock's only half-Vulcan;
imagine what a full-blood could do." When Spock pointed out
that as a 'mere half-blood' he had graduated with higher marks
than any of his pure-blood classmates, the other cadets had no
reply.
He saw Humans and their frequent displays of emotion and
affection, after a lifetime of training, direct and indirect,
caused him to recoil. He also found he did not know quite how
to respond to casual Human conversation. He was too literal.
He was the frequent butt of humor. What would be considered
polite niceties among Vulcans seemed to elicit little or no
response from Humans. His attempts at humor usually went
unnoticed as well. Paired with a Human roommate throughout
his time at Starfleet Academy, he learned to live with the
constant cold. Many of the foods available to him had an
unbearably intense flavor. On more than one occasion, he
unintentionally ingested the flesh of animals and suffered both
physically and mentally for his mistake. And yet to give his
studies anything less than his most diligent effort would be to
admit defeat, and it was not Spock's way to admit defeat.
Spock came to admit, however, he fit no better among Humans
than he did among Vulcans.
Spock's life improved materially once he graduated and was
assigned to the SS Yorktown. First, he was granted permission
by Dr. Puri to program the ship's computers to produce food
that did not burn his mouth. As second in command, he was
not forced to share his quarters, and in his own rooms he was
no longer horribly cold. Captain Pike was thoughtful for a
Human, and the two of them developed something of a
friendship, a first for Spock. If Pike was unclear about Spock's
meaning on any topic, he made a point to ask him. Pike also
had the habit of asking Spock to restate, in his own words, any
observation Pike might make regarding personnel and the
functioning thereof to ensure that his meaning was clear. He
also brooked none of the all-too-frequent pranks that had
followed Spock through Starfleet Academy. Captain Pike also
frequently required the young officer to dine with him, at which
time the Captain would speak on the topic of his own personal
Human motivations and emotions, a thing Spock found both
edifying and embarrassing. No Vulcan would ever imagine
speaking so openly on the topic, and Spock had never known a
Human to be so self-aware or so logical in their observation of
such highly illogical matters. Pike helpfully suggested readings
on the matter beyond the Starfleet course requirements.
The works of Carl Jung fascinated Spock, though his Vulcan
sensibilities found Freud both horrifying and scandalous. Then,
on a duty cycle that had been unremarkable in every way,
Spock came to the Captain's quarters for his before sleep meal,
as was the standard arrangement. Since their shift ended a full
hour before his own Dr. Puri and Number One had arrived
before him, also extremely usual.
"Just the man we were waiting for," Dr. Puri said.
"I've got great news, Spock," Pike said, raising his glass. "As
soon as we get back to Earth, Number One here is being
promoted to Captain of the Yorktown."
Spock did his best not to show surprise. It was a troubling
statement. Spock did not relish change, and yet change was
inevitable. Thus, it was illogical to feel distaste for the
inevitable. It was anxiety he forced down, all the same.
"Indeed, Sir," he said, and then, "Congratulations, Number
One," as an afterthought.
"Don't you want to know where I'm going, Spock?"
"Captain?" he asked, tilting his head.
"You've heard of The Enterprise, haven't you, Spock?"
"The proposed flagship? Indeed, Sir."
"Construction is set to begin in one month. It'll mean three
years planetside teaching at the Academy while the ship is
built. But if you'd like, I would be honored to have you as my
first officer." Captain Pike smiled at him in a way that a Human
would call warm.
"Or, if you've had enough of classrooms, you're free to stay on
as my number one," Number One offered tentatively.
Though Number One was highly intelligent, as workmates the
two of them were less than compatible; Spock seemed to
annoy the Human female without effort, and her actions often
baffled Spock. Even if he had not been offered a place on the
Federation flagship, he would have followed Pike, given the
option.
"No slight intended, Commander," Spock replied, "but the honor
of serving on the flagship is not one to be missed."
"I don't blame you, Spock." If anything, Number One seemed
relieved by his decision.
And so, Spock entered a new chapter in his life, one that held
neither the torment of his own days as a cadet, nor the
consistently unpredictable existence of an officer on a starship.
He had some privacy, some respect. And yet, he often found
himself bored. It was an illogical Human emotion, but for the
first time in many years, the work assigned to him, no matter
how exhaustively he researched and double and triple checked,
was insufficient to fill his time. Captain Pike suggested he
spend some time socializing, which seemed in theory to make
sense. In practice, however, it was simply beyond him.
Ultimately, he volunteered for every outside project he was
even vaguely suited for.
Nyota Upenda Uhura, on the other hand, was born at the
University hospital at Dar Es Salaam. That she drew her first
breath at a teaching hospital was far from coincidental. The
child's parents and grandparents on both sides were
academics. Her father was a respected musicologist, her
mother, a Professor of Human Folklore of the Post-industrial
Era. Her paternal grandmother taught advanced mathematics,
while her paternal grandfather, like her father, specialized in
music. Her mother's side was a bit fuzzier, teaching as they did,
Anthropology and Archeolinguistics. Indeed, as a child she had
often amused her parents' party guests with the question,
"What do you teach?"
It was a fair question, since every adult with whom little
Nyota had contact was seemingly some variety of academician.
It was also a fair assumption that Nyota, with her faculty for
language clear from an early age, had a brilliant teaching
career ahead of her. Oh, the papers she would publish!
And yet, she found herself rebelling at the notion of sitting
in a classroom on Earth, talking about alien languages.
Instead, she stared into the night sky, imagining herself meeting
members of new species, being the first Terran to speak to
them face to face in their own tongue.
And so she did the unthinkable: Nyota joined Starfleet.
From her family's unilateral dismay, one might have imagined
she had run off to become a cocktail waitress. A year into her
classes at Starfleet her parents calmed down enough to
refer to her 'space phase' as if they expected her to come to
her senses at any moment. Her upbringing, however, served
her well. She had sat upon her mother's knee as she
composed journal articles and conducted scholarly research.
Now Nyota did all in her power to be the best xenolinguistics
student possible. It never occurred to her to rest on her laurels.
Instead, she requested permission to increase her class load
beyond the usual limit by simply viewing recordings of the less
strenuous subjects.
The Vulcan language instructor objected. The Vulcan language
was not 'less strenuous' and any cadet wishing to enter the
field of xenolinguistics would do well to disabuse themselves of
that notion immediately.
Vulcan had been the first non-Terran language Nyota ever
learned. As a challenge, when the xenolinguistics professor at
the Sorbonne, where her parents were teaching at the time,
said it was too difficult and "would she like to try Klingonese
instead?" she had taught herself the pronunciation from old vid
tapes issued by the Vulcan Embassy in San Francisco. They
were narrated by a young Human woman, whom she later
learned had married the Vulcan ambassador and gone to live
on his homeworld.
Their first meeting was unremarkable. Both were polite, but
clear in their opposing points of view. In the end, neither of
them was completely satisfied with the outcome of the
discussion, which Spock's father, Sarek, would have said was
the sign of successful negotiations. Nyota would not test out of
Vulcan phonology, but she would be granted independent
study. So her plan to take Sub-Surface "Einar" Andorian during
the Fall semester was defeated, though the offer of
independent study seemed promising.
For his part, Spock had to admit the cadet was both far more
competent than he had foreseen, and surprisingly forceful
in her advocacy of her position. Still, he did not want to set a
precedent of allowing students to bypass his classes.
Cadet Uhura, for her part, was surprised by Lt. Commander
Spock's youth.
There was little about Cadet Uhura that was not surprising to Lt.
Commander Spock.
Nyota did what she always did. She studied her texts before
classes began. She redoubled her commitment to her school
work. She participated in, some said dominated, class. Gayla,
her roommate, enjoyed having Nyota in any course with her
since, it took away some of the pressure to respond to the
instructor's questions and the pressure to study that went with
it. Never had Nyota's presence been appreciated by so many of
her fellow cadets.
When the semester ended, Cadet Uhura adjusted her schedule
in order to take another class from Lt. Commander Spock.
Spock, in turn, adjusted his office hours to allow another
independent study project with the Cadet. She no longer
surprised him; he fully expected her to know the answers
before the questions were asked. Uhura had to make an
effort not to shirk her other classes in order to put more effort
into her work with Lt. Commander Spock.
During the vacation between the spring and summer sessions,
Uhura visited her parents at Cambridge. The few times she
saw Vulcans when sightseeing with her mother, she found
herself staring for a moment.
Lt. Commander Spock often found the tasks he set himself
momentarily disrupted as he added to the list of topics he would
like to discuss with Cadet Uhura.
During the summer session, there were simply no classes he
was teaching that she had even the remotest need for, so he
requested her assistance, first on his continuing improvements
to the Kobayashi Maru exam, and then on a reworking of the
Starfleet Academy communications system, the latter being a
task he undertook specifically because he knew the appeal it
would hold for her. As soon as each project neared completion,
the young Vulcan would inquire among those who oversaw
such things for additional duties he might bring to her.
That autumn, when he complemented her awareness of
sound, she mentioned that her father was a Professor of
Musicology. Spock then felt compelled to research Nyota
Uhura's family for six generations. Even his father would have
found her family history of producing academics impressive. In
turn, when she complemented his Surface-Andorian, he noted
that the son of an Ambassador is expected to know certain
things, languages among them. Her curiosity piqued, Nyota
went to the library to research the current Vulcan diplomats and
their families. Lt. Commander Spock was the son of (you
should say something about Sarek here); Lt. Commander
Spock was also the son of the woman in the Vulcan language
vids.
One Sunday evening in August, exactly two years after Cadet
Uhura's first meeting with Lt. Commander Spock, she found
herself sitting in an unused classroom surrounded by piles of
tools. Armed with nothing but a PADD, she was inventorying
spanners, scanners, torches, and probes for no reason she
could ascertain.
Finally she broke. "Please explain to me why we're doing this,
Mr. Spock?"
"I do not understand, Cadet. What do you believe I am doing?"
he said, swallowing visibly, though he kept his attention focused
on his PADD.
His answer surprised her. Apparently, he hadn't heard her
correctly, though she found that hard to believe. Perhaps his
mind was elsewhere.
"Is vital to the functioning of Starfleet Academy that we account
for every three micron spanner in systems engineering, Sir?"
"The ideal time to effect a solution is before a problem has
occurred, is it not?"
"Yes, but -"
"Misplaced equipment has been shown to reduce efficiency by
as much as 3%," he said, still not raising his eyes to hers.
"But isn't this the responsibility of the engineering department?
Surely -"
She was about to begin a litany on the limits of inter-department
cooperation before Spock broke in sharply.
"If you have grown weary of my company, Cadet, you are free
to decline my requests for assistance."
Uhura blinked. "Is that what this is about, Sir?"
"About, Cadet?"
"About company? My company?"
"I merely find your work exemplary, your attention to detail an
asset to an endeavor such as this one," Spock said. "It should
not be construed as an admission on my part of any desire to
begin a romantic liaison."
Nyota blinked at the non-sequitur. "Of course not," she replied.
"That would be inappropriate."
She rose silently and, PADD still in hand, stepped out into the
corridor. She walked some twenty meters and stopped, unsure
of where she was going or why.
It had not been a non-sequitur at all, she realized. Lt.
Commander Spock told her he did not wish to begin a romantic
relationship with her specifically because he did. It was likely
as near to a spontaneous outburst as he was capable of, and it
was an encoded message."
It was not logical, but it was the case.
Her entire body was on fire at the very suggestion. Suddenly,
everything she had told herself was impossible was dangling,
like low-hanging fruit, in front of her face.
Lt. Commander Spock was her instructor, and those sorts of
relationships were more than frowned upon - they were
grounds for discipline. Still, he was barely older than she was,
and he was definitely not some lothario using his power over
her grades to push her into bed. She was not the sort of
student who needed to earn her grades on her back, either.
In less than a year she would be a Starfleet Officer herself and
Spock would no longer be at the Academy. If they were both
discrete no one need know, and Lt. Commander Spock was
nothing if not discrete. He was Nyota's friend and although she
had long told herself nothing could come of it, his presence
made her heart race.
Without realizing it, Nyota marched back to the room.
Spock was sitting in his chair, PADD still in his hand, breathing
heavily. If he were anyone else, Uhura would say he looked
panicked.
She strode over to stand in front of him, set down her
PADD, and kissed him full on the mouth. She did not let go
Until the need for oxygen compelled her.
He did not respond to her kiss except to part his lips. His palms
though, his palms pressed her breasts flat.
Spock's voice was rough. "I am not one to mate for a season
and move on."
Uhura squinted: more coded language. Mr. Spock had no
doubt seen the revolving-door sex lives of many of the
students. Vulcan sexual mores, she knew, were not Human
sexual mores. He meant...he meant he wanted some sort of
assurance.
"What do you want from me?" she asked.
He rose to tower over her. "I am not a Human male," he
said, grasping her arm even as he shook his head. "It is not our
way to do such things lightly. It is not our way to do them at all."
She took a step backwards, nearly stumbled, but he did not let
go.
"Current circumstances would seem to belie that statement,"
Nyota said, suddenly aware she was panting and that
something very hard was pressed against her belly. Not so
different from Human, after all. "So tell me …tell me what you
want."
"There are times when mere language is inadequate," he said,
his voice gone from rough to ragged.
As a xenolinguist, Nyota was honor-bound to take issue with
that statement, but before she could open her mouth, he
continued. "There is a practice among my people, a merging of
thoughts. I have performed it several times in academic
settings."
Nyota nodded.
"Meld with me." It was not a question.
He was not holding her so tightly that she could not break away
if she wanted. Still, she found herself pressed tight between his
body and the wall, his hand coming toward her face.
It was as foolhardy. It was actionable. And it was probably as
inappropriate as Gayla and some unnamed senior cadet
practicing oral sex under a library table. And yet, she did not
make one move to stop him.
"My mind to your mind," he whispered, resting his fingertips
over her cheek as he held her steady with an iron grip to her
opposite shoulder. "My thoughts to your thoughts."
It was some time before Nyota could make sense of what was
happening. At first, the rush of his thoughts, his mind sifting
through her mind, his thoughts on her thoughts - it was like a
hall of mirrors. But slowly she was able to sort through and see
what he wanted to show her. He found her...beguiling? Was
that the word? He thought perhaps it was. She had never
seen the Cadet Nyota Uhura that he showed her. She knew for
certain that she was never as calm or as poised as Spock held
her to be. Certainly never so lovely. Her perception of Spock
seemed to bewilder him entirely. There were so many
memories and perceptions and emotions she could not
examine them all.
When he touched on her desire he seemed to shrink back, as
though burnt.
**Your lust is so clear.**
She made an effort to concentrate on the feeling, as if to make
it burn brighter.
**YES**
**Perhaps we should remove ourselves to some place more
private.**
**I have a roommate.**
**My quarters, then.**
Without speaking, the two of them separated shakily,
straightened themselves as best they could, put away their
PADDs, and walked out into the corridor, looking for all the
world like any of the thousands of students and instructors at
Starfleet Academy.
Nyota realized she had no idea where Lt. Commander Spock's
quarters were. She followed exactly two meters behind him all
the way to officer's housing at the outlying edge of the campus,
trying to sort through all the new information she had glimpsed.
His mother grew roses. He had grown to adulthood without a
single friend. He had not been touched with affection since he
was a child. His favorite thing about Earth was...cats?
Honestly? Cats? She was going to have to ask about that. But
later. Much later.
~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~
In retrospect, there were certain things that stood out in her
memory of the events of that Sunday afternoon. He gave her
mint tea, offered her a chair, all without looking into her face.
He did not look away, but rather seemed to turn inward, as if he
was so enthralled by what was going on in his own mind that he
had lost the power to focus on what was in front of him, like a
sleepwalker.
"Forgive me, Cadet, but I am uncertain how to proceed," he
said quietly, his hands clenched in his lap.
Nyota tilted her head. Spock was a scientist. He knew how to
explore. He could reason and eliminate the incorrect answers
to a problem. He knew how to solve. He made astounding
connections between seemingly unrelated facts because his
breadth of knowledge was so great not even the most delicate
of causal relationships escaped him. But he did not know -
really know - how to communicate. For all the two of them had
in common, it was the one thing at which he did not excel.
She exhaled deeply, sighed. "I'm not interested in pressuring
you into something you don't want, Commander."
Spock suddenly snapped out of his fog. "You have seen my
feelings on the matter."
Nyota did her best to connect what he was trying say with the
flashing thoughts and images she had experienced in his mind,
but it was like remembering a dream. Then she remembered
that sometimes, the first and most literal translation was the
most accurate.
Lt. Commander Spock, terror of Starfleet Academy cadets in
more than one department, had, exactly as he had said, no
idea how to proceed. He wanted her, both emotionally and
sexually, but he did not know what to do. He had no idea how
to even begin.
"I see," she said, reaching out to stroke his hand. "Don't worry,
Mr. Spock. I know what to do,"
He peered at her through his thick black eyelashes, nodding
slightly. "You have had ... biological ... experiences with
other males." He managed to sound both relieved and
annoyed.
She nodded. He knew, of course, having been in her mind.
"Yes," she said. "It is usual for someone my age to have had
some sexual experiences."
Again he nodded, swallowing hard. "Would it be permissible for
me to take a few minutes to prepare myself?"
Nyota had no idea whether he wanted to center himself with
meditation or take a quick sonic shower, but she was not about
to protest in any event. Let the poor man retain some mystery.
"Of course."
Twenty minutes later, she entered the only other room in his
suite and found Lt. Commander Spock in his bed, with the
blankets pulled up to his neck, presumably naked underneath.
His eyes were focused on the ceiling.
~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~
Spock had been trained in Vulcan memory techniques since
early childhood, but even if he had not, what happened next
would have been engraved in the passages of his brain like the
hieroglyphs in the ancient catacombs under the city of Shi'kar.
Cadet Uhura came to him. He did his best to master his
emotions but fear and anticipation threatened to break free and
destroy him. He fought to regulate his breathing, his physical
excitement, his desire to flee. He listened intently as her
uniform was unfastened and dropped to the floor. His eyes
darted to catch a glimpse of her brown skin and white under
garments, then focused back on the ceiling in embarrassment.
He was half-Human. Had he not heard the refrain all his life?
He was half-Human and if it was ever going to be of any use to
him, let it be of use now. He could do what Human males did.
He listened intently to the sharp intake of breath as she
removed first her boots, then her underclothes. He shut his
eyes, knowing she was naked. There was an unclothed female
standing beside his bed. A Human female, one as intelligent
and focused as any on Vulcan, but so very different. And she
was speaking to him.
"You're going to have to let me know what feels good. My
understanding of Vulcan physiology is very basic."
"I do not know that I will be of much assistance," he said, his
eyes still shut tight.
There was the pause of the cadet faltering for a moment.
"When you give yourself pleasure," she said carefully, "how do
you go about it?"
Spock's eyes shot open reflexively and he turned toward her,
shocked. "I do not...I have never...it is not something we
do."
Cadet Uhura regarded him curiously. "Oh. I'm sorry if I
offended you. It's a universal practice among Humans."
"That explains a great deal," Spock said, and realized he was
addressing the naked Cadet Uhura. She was exquisite. But
there was a discrepancy. "Your hair, Miss Uhura."
"My hair?" she asked, the most fascinating crease making
itself apparent between her brows.
Spock looked up, then down, then up again. "It is inconsistent,"
he said.
Cadet Uhura laughed and touched her head, the long silken
threads falling in a cascade. "This is artificially treated. For
aesthetic reasons. Also common practice among Humans."
Spock leaned closer. "May I?" It was so smooth it ran through
his hands like liquid. Then his eyes went to the dark triangle
between her legs. He did not have to ask the next question
because when he raised his eyes to hers she nodded.
The texture was quite dissimilar from the processed hair on her
head; soft and woolly, like the plant from which heavy
ceremonial robes were made on Vulcan.
"Would you like me to lie down?" she said.
"I would appreciate that very much, Cadet," he said, fascination
at the fore.
"My first name is Nyota," she said, although of course he knew;
he simply did not have her permission to use it so he had
refrained.
"Yes, I would appreciate that very much, Nyota," he amended.
She reclined on his bed. Her body fairly glowed from the red
blood pumping oxygen through her veins. Tones that had been
subtle beneath the melanin in her skin flushed red, turning her
body the color of a desert sunset. When she spread her legs
her genitals opened like a flower. Here, in this hidden place,
her color was pink.
"Nomenclature?" he asked, resting his palm on the soft mound
above the shining wet opening.
"Pudendum," she said.
He nodded to himself. From the ancient Latin, pudendus; to be
ashamed. These words he understood.
"And this?" he said tracing the symmetrical pink petals that so
called to mind something one might see in a botanical garden.
"Labia minora; also called nymphae," she said, a hitch in her
voice.
"These, then, are the labia majora, I assume?" he asked,
keeping his touch light.
"Very astute," she answered.
Carefully he probed the wet opening with one finger, then
another. "Fascinating. This channel opens into the womb,
correct?"
"It is called the vagina." She thrust her hips as she made her
response. Her voice sounded strange.
"Extremely fascinating. The space seems to be potential rather
than actual."
Then Nyota took hold of his hand and moved it to a round
raised area smaller than the tip of his smallest finger. "This
is the clitoris. It's the center of Human female pleasure."
"I see." He was unsure of the relative sensitivity of the flesh
so he stroked lightly with his forefinger. The tiny organ seemed
to grow slightly taller as he stroked, and warmer as well.
Perhaps not warm, exactly, but not as cold as the rest of her
seemed to be. He was well aware Humans had a naturally cool
body temperature, rendering them cold to the touch but it still
felt strange to him, a feeling he had associated only with his
mother. He continued stroking Nyota's clitoris, quickening his
pace to match the movements of her hips.
He could do this. He could share pleasure with a female he
had chosen, a female who had chosen him. A female he cared
for. A female who cared for him in return.
Then in an instant that was likely not as brief as it seemed to
him at the time, using classic Starfleet self-defense maneuvers,
Nyota effectively reversed their positions. She was a very
diligent student who applied herself to all her studies. He was
not surprised that she was capable of it.
Instead of sitting back to study him as he had her, she climbed
astride him, the perspiration from her body glazing him. He
could feel the only part of her body that was not cold pressed
against his skin.
"I think that's enough of the anatomy lesson," she whispered,
pressing her lips to the side of his face. Again again again her
mouth touched his face as though she would devour him, her
skin seemingly everywhere. She touched him everywhere.
Every nerve in his body ached with the touch. More. More. He
wanted every bit of her, even as she overwhelmed his senses.
The smell of her body like smoke, like incense. The sound of
her breathing, like the lapping of waves on the shores of this
alien world. He opened his mouth to her darting tongue. His
stomach lurched with the glory of it.
Then, when he thought there could be no more to it, when his
neurons were full, were spilling over with Nyota Uhura and
everything that was not her had been driven from his mind, she
took the part of himself he gave no recognition to outside of the
most base necessity. That potential space made way for him
as though designed to accommodate the sex organ of a Vulcan
male. She took him and she consumed him. She consumed
him and his mind was aflame. He knew neither sense nor
reason. It was a state he had always thought to achieve
through meditation. A place without fear. He did not know how
long it went on that way.
When he was again in possession of his conscious mind he
became aware that he was shaking. "My face is wet," he said.
She was now beside him, his head in the crook of her arm,
appearing both concerned and fatigued.
"You're crying," she said, wiping his cheek with a cool hand.
"Why?" he asked, baffled.
"Does it matter?"
Spock wanted to protest that yes, of course the source of the
outburst was pertinent, he needed to find the source that he
might better weed it out. But naked, in the arms of a similarly
naked Human female, smelling strongly of their mating, it
indeed seemed an unnecessary query.
Not knowing what else to do he buried his face between her
breasts and closed his eyes.
~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~
Uhura laid that way for some time, inhaling Spock's scent. She
had not expected him to be this way. She had not expected
any of this to happen. It was as though she had been struck
by something rare and beautiful and dangerous. Her body was
still vibrating with the force of her orgasm and his tears - Lt.
Commander Spock's tears - were drying on her breasts. She
did not know if she had fallen in love him over the past two
hours or the past two years. Her thoughts ran amok. They
were lovers now but what did that mean? She had had sex with
an instructor. If anyone found out she could be drummed out of
the Academy. Too bad for her she was in love.
She was in love with a Vulcan - how ridiculous was that? He
was in love with her but what did that mean? What could it
mean when duty and honor and discipline pushed him against
the wall?
Anxiety and joy welled up in her chest, and tears of her own
dropped onto the sheets.
Oh, what had she done?
A warm hand brushed her cheek.
"This intimacy has affected you as well," he said, looking up at
her as he moved against her. Gripping the wooden headboard
he positioned himself over her and penetrated her as though
they had been lovers for months, as though he was anything
but a man who had never seen a naked woman before tonight.
His body was much heavier than Nyota had imagined, his
muscles harder than Human flesh. His skin so hot some
irrational part of her mind imagined he would burn her. His eyes
looked into hers but they seemed inchoate. There was an
altogether different quality of hardness to his erection which
puzzled her until she remembered enough comparative
anatomy to recall that Vulcan males, unlike Humans, had a
baculum, a penile bone, which also explained his ability to have
sex again so soon. Any of her past lovers - not that there were
enough for a reliable statistical sample - would be asleep by
now.
"Tell me more of Human sexual practices," he asked.
"There is digital stimulation of the nipples," she dumbly said,
the first thing that popped into her head.
A soft moan escaped his lips. "Yes, continue."
"Oral sex is a common practice," she managed to force out
coherently.
"Explain," he demanded, a wild look in his eyes.
"It's the...for females it...entails...stimulation of the
clitoris with the lips and tongue for males it is ..roughly...the
same. Sometimes a female will...take the male's penis into her
mouth..."
As if in response to this new information Spock swallowed,
lowered his face to hers, but stopped short of kissing her, as if
he did not know how, as if it was somehow more complex than
copulation. Perhaps for Spock it was.
Nyota craned her neck to kiss his open mouth.
Spock broke the kiss, braced himself against the headboard
with one hand, then slipped his other hand between them to
add pressure to her clitoris, never losing the rhythm of his
thrusts. It took less than a minute of this for her orgasm to
break like thunder. Spock followed a moment later, his body
shaking violently.
She could not help wondering what he thought of her now. For
two years he had been her teacher, exclusively. She wondered
how this man, who had contorted his large frame to lie with his
head at her breast, was related to the Lt. Commander Spock
whose exams were known to make first year cadets quake in
their boots, with the man whose idea of a rough estimate meant
rounding to the tenth decimal.
"Can you see the time from your position?" he asked, tracing
the contour of her breast with an extended index finger.
"The time?"
"Yes. I believe you are in violation of curfew. Can you reach
the comm panel?"
"I believe so, Sir."
It was an honest mistake on her part - she was his junior officer
and had been his student for two years. Still, Spock cleared his
throat in what she knew was his equivalent of a laugh.
"Under the circumstances such formality is hardly warranted,
Cadet Uhura. Comm on."
The chirrup sounded and his voice suddenly lost all trace of
Humor. "Dormitory number 6, Resident Assistant, please,"
"Dorm 6, how can I help you?" answered a bored voice.
Nyota raised her eyebrow - he knew where she lived?
"This is Lt. Commander Spock. Cadet Uhura will be assisting
me with a vital project of indefinite duration this evening."
"Yes, Sir," said the suddenly no-longer-bored voice.
"Spock out."
He nodded to Uhura to cut off the comm and she
was struck, suddenly and clearly, by the danger of what they
were doing. "We are going to have to be careful."
"I agree. For the next several months, a great deal of
circumspection will no doubt be required. After that, I will no
longer be your instructor and you will no longer be my student.
There is a certain amount leeway given aboard a starship
provided the interested parties are not in the same chain of
command. I am to serve as science officer. Your area of
expertise is communications which, as you know, falls under
ship's systems. There will be no conflict."
Nyota considered it. She could be discreet for a few months.
The way he was nuzzling her breast somehow suggested he
cared far less about the perception of impropriety she did at the
moment.
"I went against the express wishes of my family to go into
Starfleet, Spock. And I have worked very hard for my grades
and for my class standing, I am not going to have that called
into question by having an intimate relationship with an
instructor."
"Then I shall have to see to it that we are not discovered,"
he said.
"I can't be out past curfew again. And - and I cannot be seen
making regular visits to the Officer's Quarters. We'll have to
find another place to meet."
"Logical," he said. "I shall endeavor to locate such a meeting
place."
He made it sound so simple. "Don't make me chose between
you and Starfleet."
"You have my word, Nyota. I have only respect for your career
path," he said, somewhat convincingly, because his eyes had
moved to her face.
Near dawn when she left Spock's room for her own, he did not
kiss her. But he held her hand as if he did not wish to let her
go.
:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:
After she was gone Spock sat at his computer wrapped in a
bed sheet, trying to solve the question of what had just
occurred.
He had mated. What was more, he had mated with
a Human. Not just any Human, but a cadet, a student under his
tutelage, for whom he had great regard. And in doing so, he
had reached a state he had not known himself capable of
attaining. In doing so, he had also come to the realization that
the emotions the cadet evoked in him could no longer be
pushed aside.
But what emotions did he evoke in Cadet Uhura? Judging by
their recent mind meld, as well as this most recent experience
with her, she did return a certain amount of regard and
affection. Still, he was not certain if love was falsifiable.
Could emotion be tested in a scientific, repeatable, and, above
all, controlled way? He supposed he would have to find out.
~~~~~~~~~~
In the stark light of her dorm room, changed into a fresh
uniform, Nyota had no choice but to question herself. It seemed
like an inescapable choice at the time. In the heat of the
moment, what she'd done with Lt. Commander Spock had felt
right the way few things had ever felt right. With a hot cup of
coffee roiling around in her stomach, having sex with an
instructor seemed, if not wrong precisely, at least questionable.
Nyota had always been enthralled by other species, and she
knew plenty of aliens. Even Gayla, her roommate, was non-
Terran. Had she allowed her fascination to overtake her
reason in regard to Spock? Was that all it had been - simple
curiosity?
Then again, she had never felt compelled to be with
anyone, Human or otherwise, the way she did with Lt.
Commander Spock. He fascinated her, true, but there was
more to it. Much more. Wasn't there?
She sighed. She could think of a dozen reasons why
continuing to see him was a bad idea. Only her emotions
argued the contrary.
~~~~~~~~~~
Less than five hours later they were in Advanced Romulan
Phonology. As usual, Cadet Uhura answered the bulk of his
questions. It went unnoticed by the rest of the class that while
he called on her no more or less than was usual, he never once
looked her in her eyes, but when class was dismissed he gazed
at her for much longer than was appropriate.
In her room Nyota was distracted by the messages chiming on
her computer.
- One from her mother.
- One from her Orion language variant study group.
- Three requests for study notes or assignments from her fellow
students.
The last was unsigned.
"An Old Earth Poem" it read.
But these maneuverings to avoid
The touching of hands,
These shifts to keep the eyes employed
On objects more or less neutral
(As honor, for the time being, commands)
Will hardly prevent their downfall.
Stronger medicines are needed.
Already they find
None of their stratagems have succeeded,
Nor would have, no,
Not had their eyes been stricken blind,
Hands cut off at the elbow.
-Donald Justice 1979
Characters/Pairings: Nu!Spock/Uhura
Rating:NC17
Warnings: none but sex
Summary: PreQuelicious
Beta: MaybeAmanda'> In the years between Spock's birth and his admittedly impulsive
decision to turn down the spot offered him at the Science
Academy, two words seemed to accompany his every act, his
every breath, for better or worse: 'half' and 'Human'. Hearing
the words, "There goes the half-Human, Spock; observe the
child's gait," for instance, was one of his earliest memories. It
had been irrelevant to the speaker that the child had not yet
made a complete cycle of revolution around the fiery red sun
and was thus quite unaccustomed to bipedal locomotion.
As a child he quickly learned that any foot set outside his
parents' home was a step into a public space where his Vulcan-
ness, and therefore also his Human-ness, would be measured.
The inescapable phrase "half-Human" summed up his entire
existence - it either rendered his accomplishments more
noteworthy, or it carved his mistakes in stone before they had
even occurred. Spoken or unspoken, the epithet accompanied
him everywhere. Though he followed the traditions and
teachings of his father's people from, quite literally, the moment
of his birth, in the darkest recesses of his mind, Spock
wondered if he might not, with his Human mother and imperfect
capacity for self-control, truly belong among Humans.
The illusion did not last beyond his first day as a Starfleet
Cadet. That he had been born of a Human female meant
nothing to his instructors and less to his fellow cadets. Over
the next three years he learned to respond to the Terran
designation for his home world, 'Vulcan'. As in "Hey, Vulcan."
At home, it had been a source of wonder that a half-Human
could manage to surpass not only the others in his age group
but much older students as well. At Starfleet, it seemed his
achievements were often taken for granted, either with the
common, "What do you expect from a Vulcan?" or, more than
once, with the comment, "And Spock's only half-Vulcan;
imagine what a full-blood could do." When Spock pointed out
that as a 'mere half-blood' he had graduated with higher marks
than any of his pure-blood classmates, the other cadets had no
reply.
He saw Humans and their frequent displays of emotion and
affection, after a lifetime of training, direct and indirect,
caused him to recoil. He also found he did not know quite how
to respond to casual Human conversation. He was too literal.
He was the frequent butt of humor. What would be considered
polite niceties among Vulcans seemed to elicit little or no
response from Humans. His attempts at humor usually went
unnoticed as well. Paired with a Human roommate throughout
his time at Starfleet Academy, he learned to live with the
constant cold. Many of the foods available to him had an
unbearably intense flavor. On more than one occasion, he
unintentionally ingested the flesh of animals and suffered both
physically and mentally for his mistake. And yet to give his
studies anything less than his most diligent effort would be to
admit defeat, and it was not Spock's way to admit defeat.
Spock came to admit, however, he fit no better among Humans
than he did among Vulcans.
Spock's life improved materially once he graduated and was
assigned to the SS Yorktown. First, he was granted permission
by Dr. Puri to program the ship's computers to produce food
that did not burn his mouth. As second in command, he was
not forced to share his quarters, and in his own rooms he was
no longer horribly cold. Captain Pike was thoughtful for a
Human, and the two of them developed something of a
friendship, a first for Spock. If Pike was unclear about Spock's
meaning on any topic, he made a point to ask him. Pike also
had the habit of asking Spock to restate, in his own words, any
observation Pike might make regarding personnel and the
functioning thereof to ensure that his meaning was clear. He
also brooked none of the all-too-frequent pranks that had
followed Spock through Starfleet Academy. Captain Pike also
frequently required the young officer to dine with him, at which
time the Captain would speak on the topic of his own personal
Human motivations and emotions, a thing Spock found both
edifying and embarrassing. No Vulcan would ever imagine
speaking so openly on the topic, and Spock had never known a
Human to be so self-aware or so logical in their observation of
such highly illogical matters. Pike helpfully suggested readings
on the matter beyond the Starfleet course requirements.
The works of Carl Jung fascinated Spock, though his Vulcan
sensibilities found Freud both horrifying and scandalous. Then,
on a duty cycle that had been unremarkable in every way,
Spock came to the Captain's quarters for his before sleep meal,
as was the standard arrangement. Since their shift ended a full
hour before his own Dr. Puri and Number One had arrived
before him, also extremely usual.
"Just the man we were waiting for," Dr. Puri said.
"I've got great news, Spock," Pike said, raising his glass. "As
soon as we get back to Earth, Number One here is being
promoted to Captain of the Yorktown."
Spock did his best not to show surprise. It was a troubling
statement. Spock did not relish change, and yet change was
inevitable. Thus, it was illogical to feel distaste for the
inevitable. It was anxiety he forced down, all the same.
"Indeed, Sir," he said, and then, "Congratulations, Number
One," as an afterthought.
"Don't you want to know where I'm going, Spock?"
"Captain?" he asked, tilting his head.
"You've heard of The Enterprise, haven't you, Spock?"
"The proposed flagship? Indeed, Sir."
"Construction is set to begin in one month. It'll mean three
years planetside teaching at the Academy while the ship is
built. But if you'd like, I would be honored to have you as my
first officer." Captain Pike smiled at him in a way that a Human
would call warm.
"Or, if you've had enough of classrooms, you're free to stay on
as my number one," Number One offered tentatively.
Though Number One was highly intelligent, as workmates the
two of them were less than compatible; Spock seemed to
annoy the Human female without effort, and her actions often
baffled Spock. Even if he had not been offered a place on the
Federation flagship, he would have followed Pike, given the
option.
"No slight intended, Commander," Spock replied, "but the honor
of serving on the flagship is not one to be missed."
"I don't blame you, Spock." If anything, Number One seemed
relieved by his decision.
And so, Spock entered a new chapter in his life, one that held
neither the torment of his own days as a cadet, nor the
consistently unpredictable existence of an officer on a starship.
He had some privacy, some respect. And yet, he often found
himself bored. It was an illogical Human emotion, but for the
first time in many years, the work assigned to him, no matter
how exhaustively he researched and double and triple checked,
was insufficient to fill his time. Captain Pike suggested he
spend some time socializing, which seemed in theory to make
sense. In practice, however, it was simply beyond him.
Ultimately, he volunteered for every outside project he was
even vaguely suited for.
Nyota Upenda Uhura, on the other hand, was born at the
University hospital at Dar Es Salaam. That she drew her first
breath at a teaching hospital was far from coincidental. The
child's parents and grandparents on both sides were
academics. Her father was a respected musicologist, her
mother, a Professor of Human Folklore of the Post-industrial
Era. Her paternal grandmother taught advanced mathematics,
while her paternal grandfather, like her father, specialized in
music. Her mother's side was a bit fuzzier, teaching as they did,
Anthropology and Archeolinguistics. Indeed, as a child she had
often amused her parents' party guests with the question,
"What do you teach?"
It was a fair question, since every adult with whom little
Nyota had contact was seemingly some variety of academician.
It was also a fair assumption that Nyota, with her faculty for
language clear from an early age, had a brilliant teaching
career ahead of her. Oh, the papers she would publish!
And yet, she found herself rebelling at the notion of sitting
in a classroom on Earth, talking about alien languages.
Instead, she stared into the night sky, imagining herself meeting
members of new species, being the first Terran to speak to
them face to face in their own tongue.
And so she did the unthinkable: Nyota joined Starfleet.
From her family's unilateral dismay, one might have imagined
she had run off to become a cocktail waitress. A year into her
classes at Starfleet her parents calmed down enough to
refer to her 'space phase' as if they expected her to come to
her senses at any moment. Her upbringing, however, served
her well. She had sat upon her mother's knee as she
composed journal articles and conducted scholarly research.
Now Nyota did all in her power to be the best xenolinguistics
student possible. It never occurred to her to rest on her laurels.
Instead, she requested permission to increase her class load
beyond the usual limit by simply viewing recordings of the less
strenuous subjects.
The Vulcan language instructor objected. The Vulcan language
was not 'less strenuous' and any cadet wishing to enter the
field of xenolinguistics would do well to disabuse themselves of
that notion immediately.
Vulcan had been the first non-Terran language Nyota ever
learned. As a challenge, when the xenolinguistics professor at
the Sorbonne, where her parents were teaching at the time,
said it was too difficult and "would she like to try Klingonese
instead?" she had taught herself the pronunciation from old vid
tapes issued by the Vulcan Embassy in San Francisco. They
were narrated by a young Human woman, whom she later
learned had married the Vulcan ambassador and gone to live
on his homeworld.
Their first meeting was unremarkable. Both were polite, but
clear in their opposing points of view. In the end, neither of
them was completely satisfied with the outcome of the
discussion, which Spock's father, Sarek, would have said was
the sign of successful negotiations. Nyota would not test out of
Vulcan phonology, but she would be granted independent
study. So her plan to take Sub-Surface "Einar" Andorian during
the Fall semester was defeated, though the offer of
independent study seemed promising.
For his part, Spock had to admit the cadet was both far more
competent than he had foreseen, and surprisingly forceful
in her advocacy of her position. Still, he did not want to set a
precedent of allowing students to bypass his classes.
Cadet Uhura, for her part, was surprised by Lt. Commander
Spock's youth.
There was little about Cadet Uhura that was not surprising to Lt.
Commander Spock.
Nyota did what she always did. She studied her texts before
classes began. She redoubled her commitment to her school
work. She participated in, some said dominated, class. Gayla,
her roommate, enjoyed having Nyota in any course with her
since, it took away some of the pressure to respond to the
instructor's questions and the pressure to study that went with
it. Never had Nyota's presence been appreciated by so many of
her fellow cadets.
When the semester ended, Cadet Uhura adjusted her schedule
in order to take another class from Lt. Commander Spock.
Spock, in turn, adjusted his office hours to allow another
independent study project with the Cadet. She no longer
surprised him; he fully expected her to know the answers
before the questions were asked. Uhura had to make an
effort not to shirk her other classes in order to put more effort
into her work with Lt. Commander Spock.
During the vacation between the spring and summer sessions,
Uhura visited her parents at Cambridge. The few times she
saw Vulcans when sightseeing with her mother, she found
herself staring for a moment.
Lt. Commander Spock often found the tasks he set himself
momentarily disrupted as he added to the list of topics he would
like to discuss with Cadet Uhura.
During the summer session, there were simply no classes he
was teaching that she had even the remotest need for, so he
requested her assistance, first on his continuing improvements
to the Kobayashi Maru exam, and then on a reworking of the
Starfleet Academy communications system, the latter being a
task he undertook specifically because he knew the appeal it
would hold for her. As soon as each project neared completion,
the young Vulcan would inquire among those who oversaw
such things for additional duties he might bring to her.
That autumn, when he complemented her awareness of
sound, she mentioned that her father was a Professor of
Musicology. Spock then felt compelled to research Nyota
Uhura's family for six generations. Even his father would have
found her family history of producing academics impressive. In
turn, when she complemented his Surface-Andorian, he noted
that the son of an Ambassador is expected to know certain
things, languages among them. Her curiosity piqued, Nyota
went to the library to research the current Vulcan diplomats and
their families. Lt. Commander Spock was the son of (you
should say something about Sarek here); Lt. Commander
Spock was also the son of the woman in the Vulcan language
vids.
One Sunday evening in August, exactly two years after Cadet
Uhura's first meeting with Lt. Commander Spock, she found
herself sitting in an unused classroom surrounded by piles of
tools. Armed with nothing but a PADD, she was inventorying
spanners, scanners, torches, and probes for no reason she
could ascertain.
Finally she broke. "Please explain to me why we're doing this,
Mr. Spock?"
"I do not understand, Cadet. What do you believe I am doing?"
he said, swallowing visibly, though he kept his attention focused
on his PADD.
His answer surprised her. Apparently, he hadn't heard her
correctly, though she found that hard to believe. Perhaps his
mind was elsewhere.
"Is vital to the functioning of Starfleet Academy that we account
for every three micron spanner in systems engineering, Sir?"
"The ideal time to effect a solution is before a problem has
occurred, is it not?"
"Yes, but -"
"Misplaced equipment has been shown to reduce efficiency by
as much as 3%," he said, still not raising his eyes to hers.
"But isn't this the responsibility of the engineering department?
Surely -"
She was about to begin a litany on the limits of inter-department
cooperation before Spock broke in sharply.
"If you have grown weary of my company, Cadet, you are free
to decline my requests for assistance."
Uhura blinked. "Is that what this is about, Sir?"
"About, Cadet?"
"About company? My company?"
"I merely find your work exemplary, your attention to detail an
asset to an endeavor such as this one," Spock said. "It should
not be construed as an admission on my part of any desire to
begin a romantic liaison."
Nyota blinked at the non-sequitur. "Of course not," she replied.
"That would be inappropriate."
She rose silently and, PADD still in hand, stepped out into the
corridor. She walked some twenty meters and stopped, unsure
of where she was going or why.
It had not been a non-sequitur at all, she realized. Lt.
Commander Spock told her he did not wish to begin a romantic
relationship with her specifically because he did. It was likely
as near to a spontaneous outburst as he was capable of, and it
was an encoded message."
It was not logical, but it was the case.
Her entire body was on fire at the very suggestion. Suddenly,
everything she had told herself was impossible was dangling,
like low-hanging fruit, in front of her face.
Lt. Commander Spock was her instructor, and those sorts of
relationships were more than frowned upon - they were
grounds for discipline. Still, he was barely older than she was,
and he was definitely not some lothario using his power over
her grades to push her into bed. She was not the sort of
student who needed to earn her grades on her back, either.
In less than a year she would be a Starfleet Officer herself and
Spock would no longer be at the Academy. If they were both
discrete no one need know, and Lt. Commander Spock was
nothing if not discrete. He was Nyota's friend and although she
had long told herself nothing could come of it, his presence
made her heart race.
Without realizing it, Nyota marched back to the room.
Spock was sitting in his chair, PADD still in his hand, breathing
heavily. If he were anyone else, Uhura would say he looked
panicked.
She strode over to stand in front of him, set down her
PADD, and kissed him full on the mouth. She did not let go
Until the need for oxygen compelled her.
He did not respond to her kiss except to part his lips. His palms
though, his palms pressed her breasts flat.
Spock's voice was rough. "I am not one to mate for a season
and move on."
Uhura squinted: more coded language. Mr. Spock had no
doubt seen the revolving-door sex lives of many of the
students. Vulcan sexual mores, she knew, were not Human
sexual mores. He meant...he meant he wanted some sort of
assurance.
"What do you want from me?" she asked.
He rose to tower over her. "I am not a Human male," he
said, grasping her arm even as he shook his head. "It is not our
way to do such things lightly. It is not our way to do them at all."
She took a step backwards, nearly stumbled, but he did not let
go.
"Current circumstances would seem to belie that statement,"
Nyota said, suddenly aware she was panting and that
something very hard was pressed against her belly. Not so
different from Human, after all. "So tell me …tell me what you
want."
"There are times when mere language is inadequate," he said,
his voice gone from rough to ragged.
As a xenolinguist, Nyota was honor-bound to take issue with
that statement, but before she could open her mouth, he
continued. "There is a practice among my people, a merging of
thoughts. I have performed it several times in academic
settings."
Nyota nodded.
"Meld with me." It was not a question.
He was not holding her so tightly that she could not break away
if she wanted. Still, she found herself pressed tight between his
body and the wall, his hand coming toward her face.
It was as foolhardy. It was actionable. And it was probably as
inappropriate as Gayla and some unnamed senior cadet
practicing oral sex under a library table. And yet, she did not
make one move to stop him.
"My mind to your mind," he whispered, resting his fingertips
over her cheek as he held her steady with an iron grip to her
opposite shoulder. "My thoughts to your thoughts."
It was some time before Nyota could make sense of what was
happening. At first, the rush of his thoughts, his mind sifting
through her mind, his thoughts on her thoughts - it was like a
hall of mirrors. But slowly she was able to sort through and see
what he wanted to show her. He found her...beguiling? Was
that the word? He thought perhaps it was. She had never
seen the Cadet Nyota Uhura that he showed her. She knew for
certain that she was never as calm or as poised as Spock held
her to be. Certainly never so lovely. Her perception of Spock
seemed to bewilder him entirely. There were so many
memories and perceptions and emotions she could not
examine them all.
When he touched on her desire he seemed to shrink back, as
though burnt.
**Your lust is so clear.**
She made an effort to concentrate on the feeling, as if to make
it burn brighter.
**YES**
**Perhaps we should remove ourselves to some place more
private.**
**I have a roommate.**
**My quarters, then.**
Without speaking, the two of them separated shakily,
straightened themselves as best they could, put away their
PADDs, and walked out into the corridor, looking for all the
world like any of the thousands of students and instructors at
Starfleet Academy.
Nyota realized she had no idea where Lt. Commander Spock's
quarters were. She followed exactly two meters behind him all
the way to officer's housing at the outlying edge of the campus,
trying to sort through all the new information she had glimpsed.
His mother grew roses. He had grown to adulthood without a
single friend. He had not been touched with affection since he
was a child. His favorite thing about Earth was...cats?
Honestly? Cats? She was going to have to ask about that. But
later. Much later.
~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~
In retrospect, there were certain things that stood out in her
memory of the events of that Sunday afternoon. He gave her
mint tea, offered her a chair, all without looking into her face.
He did not look away, but rather seemed to turn inward, as if he
was so enthralled by what was going on in his own mind that he
had lost the power to focus on what was in front of him, like a
sleepwalker.
"Forgive me, Cadet, but I am uncertain how to proceed," he
said quietly, his hands clenched in his lap.
Nyota tilted her head. Spock was a scientist. He knew how to
explore. He could reason and eliminate the incorrect answers
to a problem. He knew how to solve. He made astounding
connections between seemingly unrelated facts because his
breadth of knowledge was so great not even the most delicate
of causal relationships escaped him. But he did not know -
really know - how to communicate. For all the two of them had
in common, it was the one thing at which he did not excel.
She exhaled deeply, sighed. "I'm not interested in pressuring
you into something you don't want, Commander."
Spock suddenly snapped out of his fog. "You have seen my
feelings on the matter."
Nyota did her best to connect what he was trying say with the
flashing thoughts and images she had experienced in his mind,
but it was like remembering a dream. Then she remembered
that sometimes, the first and most literal translation was the
most accurate.
Lt. Commander Spock, terror of Starfleet Academy cadets in
more than one department, had, exactly as he had said, no
idea how to proceed. He wanted her, both emotionally and
sexually, but he did not know what to do. He had no idea how
to even begin.
"I see," she said, reaching out to stroke his hand. "Don't worry,
Mr. Spock. I know what to do,"
He peered at her through his thick black eyelashes, nodding
slightly. "You have had ... biological ... experiences with
other males." He managed to sound both relieved and
annoyed.
She nodded. He knew, of course, having been in her mind.
"Yes," she said. "It is usual for someone my age to have had
some sexual experiences."
Again he nodded, swallowing hard. "Would it be permissible for
me to take a few minutes to prepare myself?"
Nyota had no idea whether he wanted to center himself with
meditation or take a quick sonic shower, but she was not about
to protest in any event. Let the poor man retain some mystery.
"Of course."
Twenty minutes later, she entered the only other room in his
suite and found Lt. Commander Spock in his bed, with the
blankets pulled up to his neck, presumably naked underneath.
His eyes were focused on the ceiling.
~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~
Spock had been trained in Vulcan memory techniques since
early childhood, but even if he had not, what happened next
would have been engraved in the passages of his brain like the
hieroglyphs in the ancient catacombs under the city of Shi'kar.
Cadet Uhura came to him. He did his best to master his
emotions but fear and anticipation threatened to break free and
destroy him. He fought to regulate his breathing, his physical
excitement, his desire to flee. He listened intently as her
uniform was unfastened and dropped to the floor. His eyes
darted to catch a glimpse of her brown skin and white under
garments, then focused back on the ceiling in embarrassment.
He was half-Human. Had he not heard the refrain all his life?
He was half-Human and if it was ever going to be of any use to
him, let it be of use now. He could do what Human males did.
He listened intently to the sharp intake of breath as she
removed first her boots, then her underclothes. He shut his
eyes, knowing she was naked. There was an unclothed female
standing beside his bed. A Human female, one as intelligent
and focused as any on Vulcan, but so very different. And she
was speaking to him.
"You're going to have to let me know what feels good. My
understanding of Vulcan physiology is very basic."
"I do not know that I will be of much assistance," he said, his
eyes still shut tight.
There was the pause of the cadet faltering for a moment.
"When you give yourself pleasure," she said carefully, "how do
you go about it?"
Spock's eyes shot open reflexively and he turned toward her,
shocked. "I do not...I have never...it is not something we
do."
Cadet Uhura regarded him curiously. "Oh. I'm sorry if I
offended you. It's a universal practice among Humans."
"That explains a great deal," Spock said, and realized he was
addressing the naked Cadet Uhura. She was exquisite. But
there was a discrepancy. "Your hair, Miss Uhura."
"My hair?" she asked, the most fascinating crease making
itself apparent between her brows.
Spock looked up, then down, then up again. "It is inconsistent,"
he said.
Cadet Uhura laughed and touched her head, the long silken
threads falling in a cascade. "This is artificially treated. For
aesthetic reasons. Also common practice among Humans."
Spock leaned closer. "May I?" It was so smooth it ran through
his hands like liquid. Then his eyes went to the dark triangle
between her legs. He did not have to ask the next question
because when he raised his eyes to hers she nodded.
The texture was quite dissimilar from the processed hair on her
head; soft and woolly, like the plant from which heavy
ceremonial robes were made on Vulcan.
"Would you like me to lie down?" she said.
"I would appreciate that very much, Cadet," he said, fascination
at the fore.
"My first name is Nyota," she said, although of course he knew;
he simply did not have her permission to use it so he had
refrained.
"Yes, I would appreciate that very much, Nyota," he amended.
She reclined on his bed. Her body fairly glowed from the red
blood pumping oxygen through her veins. Tones that had been
subtle beneath the melanin in her skin flushed red, turning her
body the color of a desert sunset. When she spread her legs
her genitals opened like a flower. Here, in this hidden place,
her color was pink.
"Nomenclature?" he asked, resting his palm on the soft mound
above the shining wet opening.
"Pudendum," she said.
He nodded to himself. From the ancient Latin, pudendus; to be
ashamed. These words he understood.
"And this?" he said tracing the symmetrical pink petals that so
called to mind something one might see in a botanical garden.
"Labia minora; also called nymphae," she said, a hitch in her
voice.
"These, then, are the labia majora, I assume?" he asked,
keeping his touch light.
"Very astute," she answered.
Carefully he probed the wet opening with one finger, then
another. "Fascinating. This channel opens into the womb,
correct?"
"It is called the vagina." She thrust her hips as she made her
response. Her voice sounded strange.
"Extremely fascinating. The space seems to be potential rather
than actual."
Then Nyota took hold of his hand and moved it to a round
raised area smaller than the tip of his smallest finger. "This
is the clitoris. It's the center of Human female pleasure."
"I see." He was unsure of the relative sensitivity of the flesh
so he stroked lightly with his forefinger. The tiny organ seemed
to grow slightly taller as he stroked, and warmer as well.
Perhaps not warm, exactly, but not as cold as the rest of her
seemed to be. He was well aware Humans had a naturally cool
body temperature, rendering them cold to the touch but it still
felt strange to him, a feeling he had associated only with his
mother. He continued stroking Nyota's clitoris, quickening his
pace to match the movements of her hips.
He could do this. He could share pleasure with a female he
had chosen, a female who had chosen him. A female he cared
for. A female who cared for him in return.
Then in an instant that was likely not as brief as it seemed to
him at the time, using classic Starfleet self-defense maneuvers,
Nyota effectively reversed their positions. She was a very
diligent student who applied herself to all her studies. He was
not surprised that she was capable of it.
Instead of sitting back to study him as he had her, she climbed
astride him, the perspiration from her body glazing him. He
could feel the only part of her body that was not cold pressed
against his skin.
"I think that's enough of the anatomy lesson," she whispered,
pressing her lips to the side of his face. Again again again her
mouth touched his face as though she would devour him, her
skin seemingly everywhere. She touched him everywhere.
Every nerve in his body ached with the touch. More. More. He
wanted every bit of her, even as she overwhelmed his senses.
The smell of her body like smoke, like incense. The sound of
her breathing, like the lapping of waves on the shores of this
alien world. He opened his mouth to her darting tongue. His
stomach lurched with the glory of it.
Then, when he thought there could be no more to it, when his
neurons were full, were spilling over with Nyota Uhura and
everything that was not her had been driven from his mind, she
took the part of himself he gave no recognition to outside of the
most base necessity. That potential space made way for him
as though designed to accommodate the sex organ of a Vulcan
male. She took him and she consumed him. She consumed
him and his mind was aflame. He knew neither sense nor
reason. It was a state he had always thought to achieve
through meditation. A place without fear. He did not know how
long it went on that way.
When he was again in possession of his conscious mind he
became aware that he was shaking. "My face is wet," he said.
She was now beside him, his head in the crook of her arm,
appearing both concerned and fatigued.
"You're crying," she said, wiping his cheek with a cool hand.
"Why?" he asked, baffled.
"Does it matter?"
Spock wanted to protest that yes, of course the source of the
outburst was pertinent, he needed to find the source that he
might better weed it out. But naked, in the arms of a similarly
naked Human female, smelling strongly of their mating, it
indeed seemed an unnecessary query.
Not knowing what else to do he buried his face between her
breasts and closed his eyes.
~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~
Uhura laid that way for some time, inhaling Spock's scent. She
had not expected him to be this way. She had not expected
any of this to happen. It was as though she had been struck
by something rare and beautiful and dangerous. Her body was
still vibrating with the force of her orgasm and his tears - Lt.
Commander Spock's tears - were drying on her breasts. She
did not know if she had fallen in love him over the past two
hours or the past two years. Her thoughts ran amok. They
were lovers now but what did that mean? She had had sex with
an instructor. If anyone found out she could be drummed out of
the Academy. Too bad for her she was in love.
She was in love with a Vulcan - how ridiculous was that? He
was in love with her but what did that mean? What could it
mean when duty and honor and discipline pushed him against
the wall?
Anxiety and joy welled up in her chest, and tears of her own
dropped onto the sheets.
Oh, what had she done?
A warm hand brushed her cheek.
"This intimacy has affected you as well," he said, looking up at
her as he moved against her. Gripping the wooden headboard
he positioned himself over her and penetrated her as though
they had been lovers for months, as though he was anything
but a man who had never seen a naked woman before tonight.
His body was much heavier than Nyota had imagined, his
muscles harder than Human flesh. His skin so hot some
irrational part of her mind imagined he would burn her. His eyes
looked into hers but they seemed inchoate. There was an
altogether different quality of hardness to his erection which
puzzled her until she remembered enough comparative
anatomy to recall that Vulcan males, unlike Humans, had a
baculum, a penile bone, which also explained his ability to have
sex again so soon. Any of her past lovers - not that there were
enough for a reliable statistical sample - would be asleep by
now.
"Tell me more of Human sexual practices," he asked.
"There is digital stimulation of the nipples," she dumbly said,
the first thing that popped into her head.
A soft moan escaped his lips. "Yes, continue."
"Oral sex is a common practice," she managed to force out
coherently.
"Explain," he demanded, a wild look in his eyes.
"It's the...for females it...entails...stimulation of the
clitoris with the lips and tongue for males it is ..roughly...the
same. Sometimes a female will...take the male's penis into her
mouth..."
As if in response to this new information Spock swallowed,
lowered his face to hers, but stopped short of kissing her, as if
he did not know how, as if it was somehow more complex than
copulation. Perhaps for Spock it was.
Nyota craned her neck to kiss his open mouth.
Spock broke the kiss, braced himself against the headboard
with one hand, then slipped his other hand between them to
add pressure to her clitoris, never losing the rhythm of his
thrusts. It took less than a minute of this for her orgasm to
break like thunder. Spock followed a moment later, his body
shaking violently.
She could not help wondering what he thought of her now. For
two years he had been her teacher, exclusively. She wondered
how this man, who had contorted his large frame to lie with his
head at her breast, was related to the Lt. Commander Spock
whose exams were known to make first year cadets quake in
their boots, with the man whose idea of a rough estimate meant
rounding to the tenth decimal.
"Can you see the time from your position?" he asked, tracing
the contour of her breast with an extended index finger.
"The time?"
"Yes. I believe you are in violation of curfew. Can you reach
the comm panel?"
"I believe so, Sir."
It was an honest mistake on her part - she was his junior officer
and had been his student for two years. Still, Spock cleared his
throat in what she knew was his equivalent of a laugh.
"Under the circumstances such formality is hardly warranted,
Cadet Uhura. Comm on."
The chirrup sounded and his voice suddenly lost all trace of
Humor. "Dormitory number 6, Resident Assistant, please,"
"Dorm 6, how can I help you?" answered a bored voice.
Nyota raised her eyebrow - he knew where she lived?
"This is Lt. Commander Spock. Cadet Uhura will be assisting
me with a vital project of indefinite duration this evening."
"Yes, Sir," said the suddenly no-longer-bored voice.
"Spock out."
He nodded to Uhura to cut off the comm and she
was struck, suddenly and clearly, by the danger of what they
were doing. "We are going to have to be careful."
"I agree. For the next several months, a great deal of
circumspection will no doubt be required. After that, I will no
longer be your instructor and you will no longer be my student.
There is a certain amount leeway given aboard a starship
provided the interested parties are not in the same chain of
command. I am to serve as science officer. Your area of
expertise is communications which, as you know, falls under
ship's systems. There will be no conflict."
Nyota considered it. She could be discreet for a few months.
The way he was nuzzling her breast somehow suggested he
cared far less about the perception of impropriety she did at the
moment.
"I went against the express wishes of my family to go into
Starfleet, Spock. And I have worked very hard for my grades
and for my class standing, I am not going to have that called
into question by having an intimate relationship with an
instructor."
"Then I shall have to see to it that we are not discovered,"
he said.
"I can't be out past curfew again. And - and I cannot be seen
making regular visits to the Officer's Quarters. We'll have to
find another place to meet."
"Logical," he said. "I shall endeavor to locate such a meeting
place."
He made it sound so simple. "Don't make me chose between
you and Starfleet."
"You have my word, Nyota. I have only respect for your career
path," he said, somewhat convincingly, because his eyes had
moved to her face.
Near dawn when she left Spock's room for her own, he did not
kiss her. But he held her hand as if he did not wish to let her
go.
:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:
After she was gone Spock sat at his computer wrapped in a
bed sheet, trying to solve the question of what had just
occurred.
He had mated. What was more, he had mated with
a Human. Not just any Human, but a cadet, a student under his
tutelage, for whom he had great regard. And in doing so, he
had reached a state he had not known himself capable of
attaining. In doing so, he had also come to the realization that
the emotions the cadet evoked in him could no longer be
pushed aside.
But what emotions did he evoke in Cadet Uhura? Judging by
their recent mind meld, as well as this most recent experience
with her, she did return a certain amount of regard and
affection. Still, he was not certain if love was falsifiable.
Could emotion be tested in a scientific, repeatable, and, above
all, controlled way? He supposed he would have to find out.
~~~~~~~~~~
In the stark light of her dorm room, changed into a fresh
uniform, Nyota had no choice but to question herself. It seemed
like an inescapable choice at the time. In the heat of the
moment, what she'd done with Lt. Commander Spock had felt
right the way few things had ever felt right. With a hot cup of
coffee roiling around in her stomach, having sex with an
instructor seemed, if not wrong precisely, at least questionable.
Nyota had always been enthralled by other species, and she
knew plenty of aliens. Even Gayla, her roommate, was non-
Terran. Had she allowed her fascination to overtake her
reason in regard to Spock? Was that all it had been - simple
curiosity?
Then again, she had never felt compelled to be with
anyone, Human or otherwise, the way she did with Lt.
Commander Spock. He fascinated her, true, but there was
more to it. Much more. Wasn't there?
She sighed. She could think of a dozen reasons why
continuing to see him was a bad idea. Only her emotions
argued the contrary.
~~~~~~~~~~
Less than five hours later they were in Advanced Romulan
Phonology. As usual, Cadet Uhura answered the bulk of his
questions. It went unnoticed by the rest of the class that while
he called on her no more or less than was usual, he never once
looked her in her eyes, but when class was dismissed he gazed
at her for much longer than was appropriate.
In her room Nyota was distracted by the messages chiming on
her computer.
- One from her mother.
- One from her Orion language variant study group.
- Three requests for study notes or assignments from her fellow
students.
The last was unsigned.
"An Old Earth Poem" it read.
But these maneuverings to avoid
The touching of hands,
These shifts to keep the eyes employed
On objects more or less neutral
(As honor, for the time being, commands)
Will hardly prevent their downfall.
Stronger medicines are needed.
Already they find
None of their stratagems have succeeded,
Nor would have, no,
Not had their eyes been stricken blind,
Hands cut off at the elbow.
-Donald Justice 1979