Fic: History Lesson
Title: History Lesson
Author: bana05
Characters/Pairings: S/U, M, K
Rating: PG
Warnings: Sugar Rush
Summary: It's April 3rd, 1968. Uhura doesn't remember the significance of it, but Spock does.
A/N: This occurs after Slipping and features references to A Dream Come True. Fic occurs immediately before TOS: Assignment Earth, and if you aren't familiar with the episode, I encourage you to read the page on it, particularly the notes at the bottom. Also for more reference of the speech, go here and here for a fuller version. Per usual, Star Trek still doesn't belong to me. I hope you enjoy and please forgive errors! For a list of fic go here. ETA: Also thanks to recumbentgoat for the links inside the fic, especially regarding why this is important to Star Trek history in general.
~~~~
“Today is April 3rd, 1968.”
Uhura glanced up from her console. The chatter from the major powers of Earth at this time was fascinatingly dull compared to chatter she heard during her tenure in Starfleet. She was amazed humans had been so myopic once upon a time, truly convinced they were the only sentient beings in the universe. She was also amazed only a few short centuries later humans had unequivocally been proven otherwise. And even though everyone of the Enterprise crew couldn’t understand why Starfleet had ordered the ship back in time, at least in this instance it had been intentional and everyone could relax a bit while conducting the historical research. They had been in orbit for an Earth-standard week, mostly amused by the old-fashioned communication protocols and weird fashions they’d only seen in holovids thus far. And given this very obvious, yet random recitation of the date, Spock must be very bored since, for a Vulcan, this era of human development might as well be pre-Stone Age.
“Okay, Mr. Spock,” Uhura said, her lips curving as she waited for him to elaborate. When he merely raised an eyebrow, she slowly started turning toward her console again.
He exhaled softly, yet audibly. “I believe today is when Martin Luther King, Jr. gives his last speech before his assassination.”
Uhura gasped, snapping her eyes to him. “What?”
“I had done some research after our encounter with Captain Christopher, on the behest of Doctor McCoy. I recalled this date and its significance for the African Diasporic Movement. I considered you might be interested in hearing the speech live.”
Uhura’s chest swelled and she clenched her hands together so she wouldn’t lay one on him right in front of the bridge crew. “That is very thoughtful of you, Mr. Spock.”
He inclined his head and leaned over her console. “I may assist you in securing the frequency. He is in Memphis, Tennessee. Although he has started his speech, I believe it is near point that is particularly noted in the annals of Earth’s history.”
“You’re allowing me to do this while on shift, Mr. Spock?”
His ear twitched minutely and he moved in a bit closer. “It is historical research, is it not, Miss Uhura?”
She grinned and tilted her head so her forehead could lightly brush his temple. “That it is, Commander.”
Their fingers grazed each other as they searched for the frequency, the warmth from his body making her shiver.
“Anything interesting, Spock, Uhura?” Kirk asked. No doubt seeing two of his senior officers bent over a console would ping an “Investigate” button within the captain’s brain.
“We are searching for the frequency that will carry Dr. Martin Luther King’s ‘I’ve Been to the Mountaintop’ speech,” Spock replied, not looking at Kirk.
“Wow, really? You can get that live?” Kirk asked, coming up Uhura’s other side to watch their progress.
“That is our desire,” Spock replied, taking the earpiece from Uhura’s ear and holding it to his. She frowned at him, but he was too caught up in his task to notice. “Ah, I believe I have found it.”
He returned the bud to her left ear, setting it just the way she liked it, and Uhura’s eyes widened at the fact he knew its placement and the fact King’s voice filtered through the piece. Another shiver came over her, as if the vibrations of his words physically touched her.
“You think you could put that ship-wide, Uhura?” Kirk asked from over her right shoulder.
“Sir?” she asked, hoping her irritation wasn’t audible. She didn’t want anyone interrupting the speech.
Spock did whatever had been requested, and soon words were coming from the earpiece and the main speakers. She rose her eyebrows at Kirk, surprised he thought this was something the whole ship should hear.
“Historical research relevant to our interests,” Kirk said with a wink, then went back to the command chair. Spock remained where he was, his ear bent toward her private intercom, his eyes seeing something only he could. There was a sensation to her right, then the warm press of a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see McCoy’s blue eyes twinkle at her.
Outside the general hum of the Enterprise, nothing else obscured King’s poignant oration. The thumb of the hand on her shoulder stroked the slope from her neck to her collarbone while the heat on her other side came closer. The claps and calls from the crowd coming from the feed filled Uhura with triumph and joy even though she knew what that audience did not know, that this would be the last time this man spoke to them. It was eerie how prophetic he was, as if, perhaps, the good preacher had already known his time was at an end.
When the speech ended and the audience cheered, Uhura clasped her hands to her chest and blinked rapidly. The hand on her shoulder squeezed and the Vulcan beside her sighed softly, yet audibly once more as he ended the ship-wide feed.
Nothing but the hum of the Enterprise on the bridge for a full minute.
“Thank you for sharing that with us, Lieutenant Uhura,” Kirk said solemnly.
Uhura didn’t turn to face him, but she nodded. “You’re welcome.”
It didn’t take as long as she thought it would to return to the normal swing of things, but she’d been the chief communications officer of this ship long enough to quarantine certain parts of herself until she was in the privacy of her quarters. Spock’s shift ended before hers did since there wasn’t much he could do as a science officer on this particular mission. However, by the time Uhura made it to her room, all she wanted to do was sleep.
She’d just changed into her nightwear when her door buzzed.
“Enter,” she called, already knowing it was Spock on the other side.
She was right, and pleasantly surprised when McCoy entered behind him. Spock had his lute and McCoy had a tray of food.
“You didn’t eat,” he said by way of explanation, setting the tray before her.
Uhura raised an eyebrow. “And how do you know that.”
“We consulted the computer for your whereabouts when your shift ended and in varying intervals since,” Spock replied, sitting on her couch as he tuned the lyre. “You must eat, ashayam.”
Her belly fluttered at the endearment and she gave Spock a soft smile. “Thank you again, Spock, for this afternoon. I’d completely forgotten about it.”
“It is not the most pleasant of anniversaries, Nyota. Your neglect for remembrance is understandable,” Spock replied, playing a warm-up scale.
“At least eat three quarters of it,” McCoy ordered her, and then sat next to Spock on the couch.
Uhura was intrigued by their behavior, but she ate her meal while she waited for them to do whatever. Suddenly, a very recognizable tune filled her space. It was well recognized, the notes usually wrapped in the warm, sultry voice of her bibi while her mother played accompaniment on the piano. But McCoy’s deep tenor and the beautiful haunting notes of Spock’s ka’athyra brought tears to her eyes. Both men’s eyes were closed as they performed, and Uhura closed hers as well. She began harmonizing with McCoy during the third verse, and she was crying when the last notes of the song melted into the air.
A cool hand brushed away her tears. “I’m sorry…”
“You don’t have to apologize, darlin’,” McCoy said with a kind, understanding smile. “I completely understand.”
“That was wonderful, thank you,” she said to him and Spock.
The Vulcan stood and nodded. “I recalled this was the song Dr. King requested to be played at his funeral. It was his favorite song.”
Uhura went to Spock and hugged him tightly about his waist. He wrapped his arms around her shoulder and squeezed.
“You know what Nyota, Spock? I think we’re all a dream come true,” McCoy said. “That we as a galaxy have managed to come together for a greater purpose.”
“That is not entirely accurate, Doctor. The Klingons would like to destroy us and the Romulans-”
“Jesus, Spock, way to undermine the mood,” McCoy grumbled.
Uhura laughed into Spock’s chest, and he squeezed her again. “I did not anticipate my point to be humorous.”
She laughed harder as she pulled away to look into his eyes. They were alight with amusement, and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his lips.
“Nakupenda sana, Spock,” she whispered against his mouth.
The corners of his eyes crinkled and his lips found her temple. “That is most agreeable, Nyota.”
“Whoo, boy, do I ever feel like chopped liver,” McCoy said on an embarrassed laugh. “I’ll just be going-”
Uhura left Spock’s arms to grab McCoy’s hand. When he turned to face her, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed the corner of his mouth.
“Ninakupenda, Leonard,” she said against his cheek.
He hugged her tightly. “I have no idea what you said, darlin’, but I’m gonna go out on a limb and say I love you too.”
“You had some idea, then, Doctor,” Spock said dryly.
McCoy pulled back and arched an eyebrow at the first officer. “Don’t hate.”
Spock returned the raised eyebrow with one of his own. “Hating you requires energy better served to other purposes, such as the proper catabolism of nutrients.”
McCoy laughed heartily at that. “Yeah, love you, too, Spock.”
“Please refrain from ever saying that aloud again.”
McCoy laughed harder and left Uhura’s quarters.
Uhura giggled, especially when Spock gathered his hands behind his back and shot exasperated eyes to the ceiling, sighing.
“You know he is right,” she said, returning to him and settling her arms about his waist again.
Spock cupped her shoulders with his warm hands. “As long as I am in your favor, that will provide the necessary inoculation against whatever McCoy assumes he feels for me.”
“Uh-huh, and what you feel for him too.”
Spock, to her surprise, huffed. “That is not a very polite thing to say.”
“Am I lying?”
“You are currently standing, so no.”
Uhura laughed, framing his face and kissing him dearly. Less than a minute later, she was lying, and so was Spock.
Author: bana05
Characters/Pairings: S/U, M, K
Rating: PG
Warnings: Sugar Rush
Summary: It's April 3rd, 1968. Uhura doesn't remember the significance of it, but Spock does.
A/N: This occurs after Slipping and features references to A Dream Come True. Fic occurs immediately before TOS: Assignment Earth, and if you aren't familiar with the episode, I encourage you to read the page on it, particularly the notes at the bottom. Also for more reference of the speech, go here and here for a fuller version. Per usual, Star Trek still doesn't belong to me. I hope you enjoy and please forgive errors! For a list of fic go here. ETA: Also thanks to recumbentgoat for the links inside the fic, especially regarding why this is important to Star Trek history in general.
~~~~
“Today is April 3rd, 1968.”
Uhura glanced up from her console. The chatter from the major powers of Earth at this time was fascinatingly dull compared to chatter she heard during her tenure in Starfleet. She was amazed humans had been so myopic once upon a time, truly convinced they were the only sentient beings in the universe. She was also amazed only a few short centuries later humans had unequivocally been proven otherwise. And even though everyone of the Enterprise crew couldn’t understand why Starfleet had ordered the ship back in time, at least in this instance it had been intentional and everyone could relax a bit while conducting the historical research. They had been in orbit for an Earth-standard week, mostly amused by the old-fashioned communication protocols and weird fashions they’d only seen in holovids thus far. And given this very obvious, yet random recitation of the date, Spock must be very bored since, for a Vulcan, this era of human development might as well be pre-Stone Age.
“Okay, Mr. Spock,” Uhura said, her lips curving as she waited for him to elaborate. When he merely raised an eyebrow, she slowly started turning toward her console again.
He exhaled softly, yet audibly. “I believe today is when Martin Luther King, Jr. gives his last speech before his assassination.”
Uhura gasped, snapping her eyes to him. “What?”
“I had done some research after our encounter with Captain Christopher, on the behest of Doctor McCoy. I recalled this date and its significance for the African Diasporic Movement. I considered you might be interested in hearing the speech live.”
Uhura’s chest swelled and she clenched her hands together so she wouldn’t lay one on him right in front of the bridge crew. “That is very thoughtful of you, Mr. Spock.”
He inclined his head and leaned over her console. “I may assist you in securing the frequency. He is in Memphis, Tennessee. Although he has started his speech, I believe it is near point that is particularly noted in the annals of Earth’s history.”
“You’re allowing me to do this while on shift, Mr. Spock?”
His ear twitched minutely and he moved in a bit closer. “It is historical research, is it not, Miss Uhura?”
She grinned and tilted her head so her forehead could lightly brush his temple. “That it is, Commander.”
Their fingers grazed each other as they searched for the frequency, the warmth from his body making her shiver.
“Anything interesting, Spock, Uhura?” Kirk asked. No doubt seeing two of his senior officers bent over a console would ping an “Investigate” button within the captain’s brain.
“We are searching for the frequency that will carry Dr. Martin Luther King’s ‘I’ve Been to the Mountaintop’ speech,” Spock replied, not looking at Kirk.
“Wow, really? You can get that live?” Kirk asked, coming up Uhura’s other side to watch their progress.
“That is our desire,” Spock replied, taking the earpiece from Uhura’s ear and holding it to his. She frowned at him, but he was too caught up in his task to notice. “Ah, I believe I have found it.”
He returned the bud to her left ear, setting it just the way she liked it, and Uhura’s eyes widened at the fact he knew its placement and the fact King’s voice filtered through the piece. Another shiver came over her, as if the vibrations of his words physically touched her.
“You think you could put that ship-wide, Uhura?” Kirk asked from over her right shoulder.
“Sir?” she asked, hoping her irritation wasn’t audible. She didn’t want anyone interrupting the speech.
Spock did whatever had been requested, and soon words were coming from the earpiece and the main speakers. She rose her eyebrows at Kirk, surprised he thought this was something the whole ship should hear.
“Historical research relevant to our interests,” Kirk said with a wink, then went back to the command chair. Spock remained where he was, his ear bent toward her private intercom, his eyes seeing something only he could. There was a sensation to her right, then the warm press of a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see McCoy’s blue eyes twinkle at her.
Outside the general hum of the Enterprise, nothing else obscured King’s poignant oration. The thumb of the hand on her shoulder stroked the slope from her neck to her collarbone while the heat on her other side came closer. The claps and calls from the crowd coming from the feed filled Uhura with triumph and joy even though she knew what that audience did not know, that this would be the last time this man spoke to them. It was eerie how prophetic he was, as if, perhaps, the good preacher had already known his time was at an end.
When the speech ended and the audience cheered, Uhura clasped her hands to her chest and blinked rapidly. The hand on her shoulder squeezed and the Vulcan beside her sighed softly, yet audibly once more as he ended the ship-wide feed.
Nothing but the hum of the Enterprise on the bridge for a full minute.
“Thank you for sharing that with us, Lieutenant Uhura,” Kirk said solemnly.
Uhura didn’t turn to face him, but she nodded. “You’re welcome.”
It didn’t take as long as she thought it would to return to the normal swing of things, but she’d been the chief communications officer of this ship long enough to quarantine certain parts of herself until she was in the privacy of her quarters. Spock’s shift ended before hers did since there wasn’t much he could do as a science officer on this particular mission. However, by the time Uhura made it to her room, all she wanted to do was sleep.
She’d just changed into her nightwear when her door buzzed.
“Enter,” she called, already knowing it was Spock on the other side.
She was right, and pleasantly surprised when McCoy entered behind him. Spock had his lute and McCoy had a tray of food.
“You didn’t eat,” he said by way of explanation, setting the tray before her.
Uhura raised an eyebrow. “And how do you know that.”
“We consulted the computer for your whereabouts when your shift ended and in varying intervals since,” Spock replied, sitting on her couch as he tuned the lyre. “You must eat, ashayam.”
Her belly fluttered at the endearment and she gave Spock a soft smile. “Thank you again, Spock, for this afternoon. I’d completely forgotten about it.”
“It is not the most pleasant of anniversaries, Nyota. Your neglect for remembrance is understandable,” Spock replied, playing a warm-up scale.
“At least eat three quarters of it,” McCoy ordered her, and then sat next to Spock on the couch.
Uhura was intrigued by their behavior, but she ate her meal while she waited for them to do whatever. Suddenly, a very recognizable tune filled her space. It was well recognized, the notes usually wrapped in the warm, sultry voice of her bibi while her mother played accompaniment on the piano. But McCoy’s deep tenor and the beautiful haunting notes of Spock’s ka’athyra brought tears to her eyes. Both men’s eyes were closed as they performed, and Uhura closed hers as well. She began harmonizing with McCoy during the third verse, and she was crying when the last notes of the song melted into the air.
A cool hand brushed away her tears. “I’m sorry…”
“You don’t have to apologize, darlin’,” McCoy said with a kind, understanding smile. “I completely understand.”
“That was wonderful, thank you,” she said to him and Spock.
The Vulcan stood and nodded. “I recalled this was the song Dr. King requested to be played at his funeral. It was his favorite song.”
Uhura went to Spock and hugged him tightly about his waist. He wrapped his arms around her shoulder and squeezed.
“You know what Nyota, Spock? I think we’re all a dream come true,” McCoy said. “That we as a galaxy have managed to come together for a greater purpose.”
“That is not entirely accurate, Doctor. The Klingons would like to destroy us and the Romulans-”
“Jesus, Spock, way to undermine the mood,” McCoy grumbled.
Uhura laughed into Spock’s chest, and he squeezed her again. “I did not anticipate my point to be humorous.”
She laughed harder as she pulled away to look into his eyes. They were alight with amusement, and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his lips.
“Nakupenda sana, Spock,” she whispered against his mouth.
The corners of his eyes crinkled and his lips found her temple. “That is most agreeable, Nyota.”
“Whoo, boy, do I ever feel like chopped liver,” McCoy said on an embarrassed laugh. “I’ll just be going-”
Uhura left Spock’s arms to grab McCoy’s hand. When he turned to face her, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed the corner of his mouth.
“Ninakupenda, Leonard,” she said against his cheek.
He hugged her tightly. “I have no idea what you said, darlin’, but I’m gonna go out on a limb and say I love you too.”
“You had some idea, then, Doctor,” Spock said dryly.
McCoy pulled back and arched an eyebrow at the first officer. “Don’t hate.”
Spock returned the raised eyebrow with one of his own. “Hating you requires energy better served to other purposes, such as the proper catabolism of nutrients.”
McCoy laughed heartily at that. “Yeah, love you, too, Spock.”
“Please refrain from ever saying that aloud again.”
McCoy laughed harder and left Uhura’s quarters.
Uhura giggled, especially when Spock gathered his hands behind his back and shot exasperated eyes to the ceiling, sighing.
“You know he is right,” she said, returning to him and settling her arms about his waist again.
Spock cupped her shoulders with his warm hands. “As long as I am in your favor, that will provide the necessary inoculation against whatever McCoy assumes he feels for me.”
“Uh-huh, and what you feel for him too.”
Spock, to her surprise, huffed. “That is not a very polite thing to say.”
“Am I lying?”
“You are currently standing, so no.”
Uhura laughed, framing his face and kissing him dearly. Less than a minute later, she was lying, and so was Spock.