Destiny (Spock/Uhura, Kirk/Spock UST, rated G)
Title: Destiny
Author: Gigi Sinclair
Pairing: Spock/Uhura, Kirk/Spock UST
Rating: G
Summary: "Uhura wasn't ready to give up, not by a long shot, but in the end the only destiny she could control was her own."
Warning: Minor movie spoilers.
From the moment they met, Uhura knew James Kirk was going to be trouble. She had to give him credit for surprising her, though; she never expected this kind of trouble.
Kirk was like a hundred cadets she knew at the academy: men who thought they were God's gift to the universe and acted accordingly. Gaila attracted those guys by the shipload, slept with dozens and fell in love with at least two or three a week. She never understood Uhura's attraction to Spock.
"He's so boring," Gaila said, as they had what she liked to call “girltalk” and Uhura preferred to term "purgatory" in their bedroom one night. "Vanilla. I like a guy with a little attitude, if you know what I mean."
Uhura knew. Unlike most, Kirk had the skills and now the reputation to back up the attitude. She admired what he'd done; they all did. She respected him as a leader and as a captain. That didn't mean she was going to let him destroy what she'd worked so hard to build.
Not that Uhura blamed Kirk entirely. He was at least being honest, doing what he always did with his usual regard-or lack of regard-for convention, protocol, decency. It was Spock she was disappointed with. She expected more from him.
Uhura didn't believe in pandering to stereotypes, and she didn't want to play the part of the aggrieved spouse now. She wasn't the helpless wronged girlfriend who found an incriminating message on the comm. or a blond hair on her partner's collar. Instead, when Spock failed yet again to make their dinner date, she let herself into his quarters and waited.
She was there for nearly two hours before it dawned on her he might not be coming back tonight.
"Computer, time," she snapped, glad the computer at least didn't expect her to be stoic in the face of disaster.
“Oh-two twenty seven.”
They were supposed to meet at 2200 hours for a late dinner, a conversation, maybe a discussion about a book they'd read or a new linguistic theory that intrigued them both. That was their custom, both at the Academy and onboard "Enterprise." Spock had never stood her up at the Academy.
Uhura's stomach twisted into a knot when the door finally opened. For a brief, horrifying moment she worried he may not be alone, but it was worse than that. Spock was by himself, and he looked at her like he had no idea why she was there.
Uhura spelled it out for him. "You were supposed to meet me after your shift."
Spock's face was expressionless, of course, but Uhura knew him well enough to notice the change in his eyes. "I was not aware of such an arrangement."
"We talked about it this morning. Well, I talked. I thought you were listening." Uhura was proud that her voice sounded calm, reasonable, and nothing at all like she felt.
"Then I apologize." Spock's voice was calm, too. Uhura wondered if they were on the verge of the universe's most civil breakup. "I regret that your time was wasted."
"So do I." Uhura was fluent in over a hundred languages, and right now, she couldn't find the words she needed in any of them. "Were you with him?"
"With whom?" No one did false innocence like the Vulcans, although they probably called it something less devious. Maybe "refusal to draw conclusions on inconclusive facts."
"The captain."
"Yes."
"I knew it." There was no satisfaction in hearing it from him directly.
"Then why did you pose the question?"
"I don't know." Uhura felt suddenly exhausted.
Spock looked at her with kindness. She almost felt like they were back at the Academy, where she was his prized pupil and James Kirk was someone they only occasionally saw around the campus.
Then Spock said, "You should return to your quarters. You will be of no service to the ship if you are too tired to perform your duties."
All at once, Uhura knew that if she left now, she might as well plant a white flag in front of the captain's chair and let Kirk have him. She wasn't ready to admit defeat. She didn't think she ever would be. "No."
Spock raised his eyebrow, but Uhura ignored him. She was doing this for his good as much as for hers. They needed each other, they loved each other. This was their reality. She wasn't about to let anyone destroy it. "I don't know what your older self told you, but Captain Kirk doesn't have what you're looking for."
"What is it you believe I seek?" Now Spock's expression was condescending, patronizing, the look of an experienced teacher to his flailing, inept student.
"Understanding. A connection. A deeper reason why this happened to your people." It hurt Uhura to see Spock so bereft, but not as much as it hurt to think she wasn't the one he trusted to help him through it. "Are you sleeping with him?"
That at least provoked a reaction. Spock's expression wasn't one of shock or disbelief, but one of amusement. "That would be inappropriate." It wasn't a "no."
"So is this." She indicated the two of them.
Spock sighed, something he did only when exasperated. As far as Uhura was concerned, he could be as exasperated as he liked. This was his fault. "The captain holds the key to my destiny," he said, as if it were a perfectly logical explanation. "That is what my older self told me. In his reality, we defined one another."
"In his reality," Uhura repeated. "This is different." We can define each other.
"That is true." Spock nodded. "If you seek reassurance, then allow me to say that my personal journey bears absolutely no reflection on your skills as a partner. However the future unfolds, I will always hold you in the very highest regard, both personally and professionally."
He kissed her, something he rarely initiated. Then, he guided her gently out the door. It hissed shut behind her.
As Uhura made her way back to her quarters, she wondered if she had just been given the Vulcan equivalent of "it's not you, it's me."
***
Uhura had been a model Starfleet cadet and now she was a model Starfleet officer. She had the utmost respect for the chain of command. Still, when she found herself alone in a turbolift with the captain two days later, she took advantage of the opportunity. She didn't know if she'd get another chance.
Drawing herself up, Uhura pressed the button to stop the lift. She hoped no one was waiting for it on the other end. "Permission to speak freely, captain?"
Kirk glanced at her. "If you want to jump me, lieutenant, you just have to ask. No need for turbolift drama."
Inappropriate comments. Inappropriate behaviour. Still, somehow, he got away with it. Uhura waited for Kirk to nod before she continued. "You have no right to take him away from me. Sir."
Kirk nodded slowly. "Okay. If you want Ensign Cooper back on the Communications team that badly, I'll reassign him. But I know Mr. Scott is already very pleased with his work in Engineering..."
"You know who I'm talking about, captain."
The look on his face told her he did. He stared at the control panel in front of them. Uhura was certain he was going to say the conversation was over and restart the lift, but he didn't. "I'm sorry," he said.
Uhura was taken aback by the sincerity in his voice, but only for a moment. Anger, on her own behalf and on Spock's, moved her to continue. "He's not one of your Academy groupies you can use and throw away. He deserves a lot better than that." I give him a lot better than that.
"It's not like that. Really." Kirk laughed. "Even if I tried it, which I haven't, there's no way he'd let me." He would if he thought it would bring him closer to the answers. She was certain Kirk knew it, too.
He looked at her, his expression intent. "It's crazy. Have you ever been with someone you barely know, but you completely understand each other?" Yes. "And even when you don't agree with them, you still know exactly where they're coming from without even having to talk about it?"
It was worse than Uhura had thought. Her stomach sank, and she wished she could go back to believing Kirk just wanted Spock for sex, for a challenge and because it was so inappropriate.
"The older Spock...showed me things. I can't help it. It's destiny, Nyota." Uhura didn't bother correcting the use of her name. "It sounds like a lame-ass excuse, but it's the truth, I swear to God. I wish it wasn't."
Uhura wished that, too. Wordlessly, she pressed the button, and the turbolift jerked back to life.
When the doors slid open on the bridge, Spock was waiting.
He and Uhura had always been completely circumspect in their professional lives. Her career would be as damaged-more damaged-than his if allegations of favouritism surfaced, and they both worked hard to prevent that from happening. Nevertheless, he always managed to give her a little sign, a half-smile or a barely discernible wink, something private to let her know he hadn't forgotten.
This time, Spock looked through her like she was a pane of reinforced plastic. "Captain, I need you with me. I've found a strange irregularity in one of the mainframe programs..." He kept talking, but Uhura stopped listening. It didn't do her any good. She watched as the two of them disappeared together, then stepped onto the bridge.
As she passed behind the helmsmen, she greeted Sulu in Japanese and Chekov in Russian. They always appreciated that, Chekov more than anyone. Today she even asked after his sister in Vladivostok. The ensign stared after her like an awestruck puppy, and Uhura couldn't help but smile.
She brought up the program she'd been working on and sat back in her chair. She wasn't ready to give up, not by a long shot, but in the end the only destiny she could control was her own.
Author: Gigi Sinclair
Pairing: Spock/Uhura, Kirk/Spock UST
Rating: G
Summary: "Uhura wasn't ready to give up, not by a long shot, but in the end the only destiny she could control was her own."
Warning: Minor movie spoilers.
From the moment they met, Uhura knew James Kirk was going to be trouble. She had to give him credit for surprising her, though; she never expected this kind of trouble.
Kirk was like a hundred cadets she knew at the academy: men who thought they were God's gift to the universe and acted accordingly. Gaila attracted those guys by the shipload, slept with dozens and fell in love with at least two or three a week. She never understood Uhura's attraction to Spock.
"He's so boring," Gaila said, as they had what she liked to call “girltalk” and Uhura preferred to term "purgatory" in their bedroom one night. "Vanilla. I like a guy with a little attitude, if you know what I mean."
Uhura knew. Unlike most, Kirk had the skills and now the reputation to back up the attitude. She admired what he'd done; they all did. She respected him as a leader and as a captain. That didn't mean she was going to let him destroy what she'd worked so hard to build.
Not that Uhura blamed Kirk entirely. He was at least being honest, doing what he always did with his usual regard-or lack of regard-for convention, protocol, decency. It was Spock she was disappointed with. She expected more from him.
Uhura didn't believe in pandering to stereotypes, and she didn't want to play the part of the aggrieved spouse now. She wasn't the helpless wronged girlfriend who found an incriminating message on the comm. or a blond hair on her partner's collar. Instead, when Spock failed yet again to make their dinner date, she let herself into his quarters and waited.
She was there for nearly two hours before it dawned on her he might not be coming back tonight.
"Computer, time," she snapped, glad the computer at least didn't expect her to be stoic in the face of disaster.
“Oh-two twenty seven.”
They were supposed to meet at 2200 hours for a late dinner, a conversation, maybe a discussion about a book they'd read or a new linguistic theory that intrigued them both. That was their custom, both at the Academy and onboard "Enterprise." Spock had never stood her up at the Academy.
Uhura's stomach twisted into a knot when the door finally opened. For a brief, horrifying moment she worried he may not be alone, but it was worse than that. Spock was by himself, and he looked at her like he had no idea why she was there.
Uhura spelled it out for him. "You were supposed to meet me after your shift."
Spock's face was expressionless, of course, but Uhura knew him well enough to notice the change in his eyes. "I was not aware of such an arrangement."
"We talked about it this morning. Well, I talked. I thought you were listening." Uhura was proud that her voice sounded calm, reasonable, and nothing at all like she felt.
"Then I apologize." Spock's voice was calm, too. Uhura wondered if they were on the verge of the universe's most civil breakup. "I regret that your time was wasted."
"So do I." Uhura was fluent in over a hundred languages, and right now, she couldn't find the words she needed in any of them. "Were you with him?"
"With whom?" No one did false innocence like the Vulcans, although they probably called it something less devious. Maybe "refusal to draw conclusions on inconclusive facts."
"The captain."
"Yes."
"I knew it." There was no satisfaction in hearing it from him directly.
"Then why did you pose the question?"
"I don't know." Uhura felt suddenly exhausted.
Spock looked at her with kindness. She almost felt like they were back at the Academy, where she was his prized pupil and James Kirk was someone they only occasionally saw around the campus.
Then Spock said, "You should return to your quarters. You will be of no service to the ship if you are too tired to perform your duties."
All at once, Uhura knew that if she left now, she might as well plant a white flag in front of the captain's chair and let Kirk have him. She wasn't ready to admit defeat. She didn't think she ever would be. "No."
Spock raised his eyebrow, but Uhura ignored him. She was doing this for his good as much as for hers. They needed each other, they loved each other. This was their reality. She wasn't about to let anyone destroy it. "I don't know what your older self told you, but Captain Kirk doesn't have what you're looking for."
"What is it you believe I seek?" Now Spock's expression was condescending, patronizing, the look of an experienced teacher to his flailing, inept student.
"Understanding. A connection. A deeper reason why this happened to your people." It hurt Uhura to see Spock so bereft, but not as much as it hurt to think she wasn't the one he trusted to help him through it. "Are you sleeping with him?"
That at least provoked a reaction. Spock's expression wasn't one of shock or disbelief, but one of amusement. "That would be inappropriate." It wasn't a "no."
"So is this." She indicated the two of them.
Spock sighed, something he did only when exasperated. As far as Uhura was concerned, he could be as exasperated as he liked. This was his fault. "The captain holds the key to my destiny," he said, as if it were a perfectly logical explanation. "That is what my older self told me. In his reality, we defined one another."
"In his reality," Uhura repeated. "This is different." We can define each other.
"That is true." Spock nodded. "If you seek reassurance, then allow me to say that my personal journey bears absolutely no reflection on your skills as a partner. However the future unfolds, I will always hold you in the very highest regard, both personally and professionally."
He kissed her, something he rarely initiated. Then, he guided her gently out the door. It hissed shut behind her.
As Uhura made her way back to her quarters, she wondered if she had just been given the Vulcan equivalent of "it's not you, it's me."
***
Uhura had been a model Starfleet cadet and now she was a model Starfleet officer. She had the utmost respect for the chain of command. Still, when she found herself alone in a turbolift with the captain two days later, she took advantage of the opportunity. She didn't know if she'd get another chance.
Drawing herself up, Uhura pressed the button to stop the lift. She hoped no one was waiting for it on the other end. "Permission to speak freely, captain?"
Kirk glanced at her. "If you want to jump me, lieutenant, you just have to ask. No need for turbolift drama."
Inappropriate comments. Inappropriate behaviour. Still, somehow, he got away with it. Uhura waited for Kirk to nod before she continued. "You have no right to take him away from me. Sir."
Kirk nodded slowly. "Okay. If you want Ensign Cooper back on the Communications team that badly, I'll reassign him. But I know Mr. Scott is already very pleased with his work in Engineering..."
"You know who I'm talking about, captain."
The look on his face told her he did. He stared at the control panel in front of them. Uhura was certain he was going to say the conversation was over and restart the lift, but he didn't. "I'm sorry," he said.
Uhura was taken aback by the sincerity in his voice, but only for a moment. Anger, on her own behalf and on Spock's, moved her to continue. "He's not one of your Academy groupies you can use and throw away. He deserves a lot better than that." I give him a lot better than that.
"It's not like that. Really." Kirk laughed. "Even if I tried it, which I haven't, there's no way he'd let me." He would if he thought it would bring him closer to the answers. She was certain Kirk knew it, too.
He looked at her, his expression intent. "It's crazy. Have you ever been with someone you barely know, but you completely understand each other?" Yes. "And even when you don't agree with them, you still know exactly where they're coming from without even having to talk about it?"
It was worse than Uhura had thought. Her stomach sank, and she wished she could go back to believing Kirk just wanted Spock for sex, for a challenge and because it was so inappropriate.
"The older Spock...showed me things. I can't help it. It's destiny, Nyota." Uhura didn't bother correcting the use of her name. "It sounds like a lame-ass excuse, but it's the truth, I swear to God. I wish it wasn't."
Uhura wished that, too. Wordlessly, she pressed the button, and the turbolift jerked back to life.
When the doors slid open on the bridge, Spock was waiting.
He and Uhura had always been completely circumspect in their professional lives. Her career would be as damaged-more damaged-than his if allegations of favouritism surfaced, and they both worked hard to prevent that from happening. Nevertheless, he always managed to give her a little sign, a half-smile or a barely discernible wink, something private to let her know he hadn't forgotten.
This time, Spock looked through her like she was a pane of reinforced plastic. "Captain, I need you with me. I've found a strange irregularity in one of the mainframe programs..." He kept talking, but Uhura stopped listening. It didn't do her any good. She watched as the two of them disappeared together, then stepped onto the bridge.
As she passed behind the helmsmen, she greeted Sulu in Japanese and Chekov in Russian. They always appreciated that, Chekov more than anyone. Today she even asked after his sister in Vladivostok. The ensign stared after her like an awestruck puppy, and Uhura couldn't help but smile.
She brought up the program she'd been working on and sat back in her chair. She wasn't ready to give up, not by a long shot, but in the end the only destiny she could control was her own.