Human Relations
Title: Relations
Characters/pairings: Spock/Uhura
Rating: PG-ish
Disclaimer: Blah blah Roddenberry blah Abrams blah sandbox blah.
Spoilers: The whole ball of wax
Note: A little different than my previous ideas about when it began, however, let it be said that I still think that the relationship as we see it has evidence of long-time "Sculdering."
Summary: Re-boot, with memories. Spock POV. Verbe tense disagreement intentional.
Spock remembered the moment, and would always. Nyota laughing at her desk surrounded by PADDs, reading aloud to him from another student's assignment. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she read, pausing between sentences to laugh yet harder. At the time, he was equally confused by the illogic inherent to human display of extreme amusement and that of the paper she read, which was rife with plagiarism, but as time passes he has come to enjoy the humor of it.
"And then...oh God, Spock. This is the best part!" She rubbed at her eye with the back of her hand then, and continued. "'So I have decided to become a linguist. Being able to read French fluently and speak it wretchedly, and to speak German connectively but not read it all, I am taking up Luxembourg, which is a wonderful blend of the two, a sort of liaison between tongues. (Not to be confused with French kissing.)' Oh, that's rich! In parentheses!" She threw back her head and laughed maniacally, and though he found it inappropriate at best to find humor in others' academic misfortune, he could not deny that humor suited her and that in that moment he was stricken by her beauty.
"I do not see the relevance in referencing minimally related Terran language families as a conclusion to a poorly formulated discussion of the similarities between High Vulcan and Romulan phonemes." He'd forced his eyes to return to the PADD he held, which contained an argument written by a first-year cadet concerning the Federation's current translation policies that was so well-formulated and compelling that it might be refined for presentation to department colleagues. Turning away from the distraction of Nyota's smile and the casual way with which she dragged her hair through her hand and wrapped it around her wrist, again and again in a regular rhythm while she read was only logical. He found it distracting in a manner most unbecoming to an instructor.
She looked at him then, something like wonder and a different sort of amusement came to her voice as she pushed away from her desk, her chair rolling freely toward his. "A. It's a completely irrelevant reach that tells me that he knew I'd be reading it. B. It's completely inconsistent with his demonstrated style of written speech. And C. It's just...bad. It's like...it's the worst pick-up line ever. And sometimes you're such a killjoy."
"Your sarcasm was deployed most conscientiously. And as the locations of Germanic and Romance languages are of close geographic proximity, I cannot understand that the cultural mores and behaviors concerning mating would be so different as to deserve specific attention." He was aware that there was some nuance to the subject matter that was outside his grasp and that it was key to her amusement.
"French kissing, Spock? You don't know?"
He looked up from the PADD in his hands, meeting her eyes. "Human displays of affection with which I have direct experience are limited to familial relations with my mother."
Spock remembered making the statement, but could not recall the logical path that had led him there, except the desire to remain engaged in conversation though the subject matter trod close to the dangerously personal. His words hung in the air. He realized then that Nyota's referent was the variety of kiss he bore witness to on far too many occasions. On Vulcan such matters were -- had been -- private and analogous behaviors expressing intimacy, love and desire occurred and remained between bonded mates. He continued. "The differences in cultural convention concerning mating behaviors are merely different, though I confess that public display of an act so intimate is confusing to me."
He noticed then that Nyota had returned to her desk. "Do Vulcans kiss?"
"We do not, but I have not further comment on the matter at this time." There was work to be done, and further conversation would have led him sooner to the images and concepts that began to occasionally disturb the order of his dreams during the subsequent terms they worked together. Such subject matter did not return to their conversations, until he was undone by that act.
A kiss. An expression of affection and comfort that Nyota offered because she did not know an alternative. The act was so very human, and he is grateful for it. A second kiss that he offers to express desire, fear he will not return. It is the type to which she referred so long ago and he does not want this moment, these relations, however tentative, to end.
Characters/pairings: Spock/Uhura
Rating: PG-ish
Disclaimer: Blah blah Roddenberry blah Abrams blah sandbox blah.
Spoilers: The whole ball of wax
Note: A little different than my previous ideas about when it began, however, let it be said that I still think that the relationship as we see it has evidence of long-time "Sculdering."
Summary: Re-boot, with memories. Spock POV. Verbe tense disagreement intentional.
Spock remembered the moment, and would always. Nyota laughing at her desk surrounded by PADDs, reading aloud to him from another student's assignment. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she read, pausing between sentences to laugh yet harder. At the time, he was equally confused by the illogic inherent to human display of extreme amusement and that of the paper she read, which was rife with plagiarism, but as time passes he has come to enjoy the humor of it.
"And then...oh God, Spock. This is the best part!" She rubbed at her eye with the back of her hand then, and continued. "'So I have decided to become a linguist. Being able to read French fluently and speak it wretchedly, and to speak German connectively but not read it all, I am taking up Luxembourg, which is a wonderful blend of the two, a sort of liaison between tongues. (Not to be confused with French kissing.)' Oh, that's rich! In parentheses!" She threw back her head and laughed maniacally, and though he found it inappropriate at best to find humor in others' academic misfortune, he could not deny that humor suited her and that in that moment he was stricken by her beauty.
"I do not see the relevance in referencing minimally related Terran language families as a conclusion to a poorly formulated discussion of the similarities between High Vulcan and Romulan phonemes." He'd forced his eyes to return to the PADD he held, which contained an argument written by a first-year cadet concerning the Federation's current translation policies that was so well-formulated and compelling that it might be refined for presentation to department colleagues. Turning away from the distraction of Nyota's smile and the casual way with which she dragged her hair through her hand and wrapped it around her wrist, again and again in a regular rhythm while she read was only logical. He found it distracting in a manner most unbecoming to an instructor.
She looked at him then, something like wonder and a different sort of amusement came to her voice as she pushed away from her desk, her chair rolling freely toward his. "A. It's a completely irrelevant reach that tells me that he knew I'd be reading it. B. It's completely inconsistent with his demonstrated style of written speech. And C. It's just...bad. It's like...it's the worst pick-up line ever. And sometimes you're such a killjoy."
"Your sarcasm was deployed most conscientiously. And as the locations of Germanic and Romance languages are of close geographic proximity, I cannot understand that the cultural mores and behaviors concerning mating would be so different as to deserve specific attention." He was aware that there was some nuance to the subject matter that was outside his grasp and that it was key to her amusement.
"French kissing, Spock? You don't know?"
He looked up from the PADD in his hands, meeting her eyes. "Human displays of affection with which I have direct experience are limited to familial relations with my mother."
Spock remembered making the statement, but could not recall the logical path that had led him there, except the desire to remain engaged in conversation though the subject matter trod close to the dangerously personal. His words hung in the air. He realized then that Nyota's referent was the variety of kiss he bore witness to on far too many occasions. On Vulcan such matters were -- had been -- private and analogous behaviors expressing intimacy, love and desire occurred and remained between bonded mates. He continued. "The differences in cultural convention concerning mating behaviors are merely different, though I confess that public display of an act so intimate is confusing to me."
He noticed then that Nyota had returned to her desk. "Do Vulcans kiss?"
"We do not, but I have not further comment on the matter at this time." There was work to be done, and further conversation would have led him sooner to the images and concepts that began to occasionally disturb the order of his dreams during the subsequent terms they worked together. Such subject matter did not return to their conversations, until he was undone by that act.
A kiss. An expression of affection and comfort that Nyota offered because she did not know an alternative. The act was so very human, and he is grateful for it. A second kiss that he offers to express desire, fear he will not return. It is the type to which she referred so long ago and he does not want this moment, these relations, however tentative, to end.