FIC: The Test, Part Two (Spock/Uhura, PG)
Title: The Test, Part Two
Chapter/Part: Two -- No Simple Matter
Author: Suzanne78
Characters/Pairings: Spock, Nyota Uhura
Rating: PG
Summary: He does not knows the ways in which he tests her. Even as an aide, Nyota is, quite unfortunately, drawn to her instructor.
A/N: No warnings. I must give a huge thank you to mrstater for her amazing beta-work and suggestions. After some thought, I decided to expand my Spock/Uhura one-shot "The Test" and explore their relationship at the Academy before the events of the movie. I did add some material to this after she looked it over for me, so any remaining mistakes here are mine. And I will be making this a small, multi-chapter fic.
And, mrstater, I'm saving the last half of what you beta'd for another chapter ;-D.
Part One here
Part One: The Test here
Part Two: No Simple Matter
Nyota Uhura, Advanced Phonology aide for Starfleet Academy’s Xenolinguistics Department for the past five months, is on her ninth hour of listening to transmissions from deep within the Delta Quadrant.
Gone is the anger she felt toward Spock, the annoyance regarding how he misled her during the application process to be the Advanced Phonology aide. Now, her mind is all about her current job… and wondering where the commander is.
Her brain is tired, but still she works. There will soon be a vacancy for an aide in the Advanced Acoustical Engineering department, and she damn well knows she is more than qualified for it. Thus, she continues to work on her current assignment and to hell with everything else.
For this job, Starfleet has instructed Commander Spock to use his best resources to study some odd signals coming from the quadrant. While normally her role as Spock’s aide consists of helping him prepare lessons for his lectures and research for his papers, among other duties, this was a special request made to both the commander and the instructor of the Advanced Acoustical Engineering class, Commander Douglas Kyle.
And both have their best people working on it with them.
For Spock, that obviously means Nyota; that thought pleases her greatly.
He has not left her side today, except for the past hour. They worked together, practically side-by-side, pouring over consoles, cleaning the signals from the transmission, and studying the Starfleet database to find any species or race that could be using this odd language system…
He’s hot.
Stop that!
What? I’m talking about his brains. What are YOU talking about?
“My brain hates me,” she whines quietly; she is thankful that no one can read her thoughts. She blames this six-day workweek for the sudden mental dialogue sprouting in her head.
Not to mention occasionally picturing various images of her boss… images that are not entirely innocent.
Quit it!
Nyota finishes her notes on the PADD. Checking the time, she breathes out in relief. Five o’clock. Getting to work early on a Saturday has its benefits; she’ll have plenty of time to go home, shower, and head out to the bars with Gaila and their friends-
Or maybe she won’t. She feels tired. Perhaps she’ll curl up with a nice bottle of Bajoran springwine and find something perfectly mindless to read. Take her mind off of work this and work that…
Not to mention Spock, and how much time they have been spending together lately.
She drags her hand down her face, shuts her eyes and inhales through her nose. Her position as an Advanced Phonology aide affords both of them almost unlimited contact with the other person. For Nyota, spending time around Spock is not only mentally stimulating, but easy. Fun for her, and she suspects for him as well.
Their interactions always have a certain spirit about them. There is a teasing intellectualism that characterizes their conversations. A surprising amount too, given that it's Spock.
But there are more revealing moments from both parties. Nyota can see the smallest reactions to things she does or says, either with his quirking lips or his darkening skin. She fancies that he allows, only for a second or two, the briefest exposure of his human side. It makes her feel lightheaded that she can draw out this softness from Spock that others never see.
The physical displays of emotion recede, of course, because he catches himself before they blossom into more. But Nyota knows he is getting used to her-
Flirting.
Personality.
But their increased contact, their ever-growing comfort with each other makes things rather difficult. Confusing. There are rules that define what they are, what they can do, and most importantly, what they cannot do.
It is the cannot that drives Nyota up the wall, that makes her want to storm into the next Academy council assembly and tell then exactly what they can do with their Code of Student Conduct.
If she had a schoolgirl crush before, Nyota realizes it has blossomed into something more adult.
And she wonders, on days like this, whether he feels it too.
He is your professor, and he respects the Academy’s rules.
So that is clearly that.
Nyota sets the earpiece down on the console and rubs her weary eyes. She sighs and stretches her arms high above her head. “Maybe I don’t need to go out with the girls tonight.”
“On the contrary, you have earned it by working as long and as hard as you have today.”
His voice startles her and Nyota has to take a moment to breathe. Also to stifle the rather vulgar swear that is on the verge of slipping out.
She spins around to stare at the commander, slightly annoyed at how quietly he enters rooms… and how he manages to appear every time her thoughts turn to him.
“Spock! You scared me.”
He tilts his head, peering at her curiously. “I assure you that my intention was not to scare you.”
This time, Nyota cocks her eyebrow; she has practiced this mannerism, and now she can do it when the occasion calls. “You should give a girl warning next time you sneak upon her.” Before she can stop herself, she blurts out, “You’ve been gone for a while. I was starting to worry.”
She mentally smacks herself. What the hell are you doing?
Spock does not answer her for five seconds. In the ensuing quiet, she thinks she can see his face darken slightly. When he does finally answer, he ignores the last part of what she has said. To her great relief. “I only wanted to state an observation. It would benefit you to relax; therefore spending time with your friends would be-”
He pauses, searching for the right word.
“Fun, Commander?”
“Therapeutic. I know you have been here since this early this morning.”
“You were here before I was.”
“That is true,” he says. “However, I am aware of the need humans have to balance their intellectual endeavors with recreation.”
Nyota speaks without thinking. “Well, I’m not like most humans.”
Spock nods in agreement. “Indeed, you are not. There is another concern that I have regarding the time you have spent here today.”
Upon hearing this, she stops breathing. “You’re concerned about something?”
“I am not certain if you have yet eaten today. Will it be necessary to order you to consume something to maintain your health?”
She smiles without reservation. There were a hundred different things Spock could've said at that point, all meaning the same thing: "You are spending too much time with me, Nyota. I tire of your simple ways."
He worries about her not eating. About her health. She attempts to convince herself that his concern is strictly professional, but she can’t help but think there is more to it than that.
“No sir. I’ve managed to snack while you were gone. I’m fine-”
As if on cue, her stomach rumbles. The noise causes Spock’s eyebrow to arch, punctuating the moment. “It appears that you disagree with your own conclusions.”
“Yes. I do appear to disagree with myself.”
“So, perhaps I shall order you to take care of yourself. After all, I enjoy your contributions to my lectures, both when you were a student and, now, as my aide. Your absence would be a detriment to me.” He watches her, creasing his brow as if considering something before he speaks again. “And I admit that I have come to look forward to our interactions outside of work. Therefore, it would personally affect me should you require leave due to illness.”
Nyota’s mind reels. Never before has he admitted anything like this regarding her company. It certainly supports what has been running through her mind recently; there is something more between them. Something beyond their student and instructor relationship.
“Well, I’m flattered that you’re concerned with whether I’m getting enough food and recreation to balance out my work. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you cared.”
And of course she ruins it. Sometimes she wonders what spirit possesses her brain, making her say things that were entirely inappropriate when she gets nervous.
Before he can reply (but not before she notices his skin coloring slightly), she clears her throat and hands over her PADD. “I organized my notes while you were gone. I hope this won’t be frustrating for Starfleet, but everything we try seems to reach a dead end. The only thing we know is that the communication doesn’t originate from any carbon-based life forms in the Federation’s database.”
Spock looks at her. “There are times that only through a process of eliminating what something is not, makes clear what something actually is.”
“I hope that this is one of those times.”
“Your hard work in eliminating possible carbon-based life forms will be immensely helpful to Starfleet. You must know that, Nyota.” He pauses. “And to me as well.”
She knows she’s grinning from ear to ear as she pulls the strap of her bag over her shoulder and fluffs her long, loose hair until it falls freely down her back. She straightens out her skirt and regards Spock. “Believe me, I am more than happy to help you, in whatever capacity you need.”
She urges herself to shut up. Now. Five minutes ago. As soon as possible. She sounds like a simpering little girl. And the last thing Spock would ever want is a simpering girl hanging all over him.
But as she regards him, she notices his skin still has a deeper olive color than normal: certainly not anywhere as green as Gaila’s, but a slightly more intense hue than his usual tint.
Perhaps she does have an effect on him.
She almost reaches out to him, but she stops herself. She wants to touch him, even if it is just to shake his hand, but that would not be right. Touching a Vulcan, even a half-Vulcan such as Spock, is different from touching a human. He might sense things about her regarding her feelings for him.
Although that might not necessarily be a bad thing.
She stops herself and shakes her head. “All right. I’m off. If you need to ask me anything, don’t hesitate to-”
“Would you like some company?”
She blinks. “Ex-excuse me?”
“If you would permit me, I can walk you back to your apartment. I have been thinking that perhaps some air might do both of us some good.”
Nyota shrugs and slowly shakes her head, surprised at the request. “Uh, sure.” It sounds more like a question rather than a definitive reply.
They walk out of the building and onto the campus grounds. There are other cadets and instructors milling about, but they pay no mind to the two colleagues moving together, falling into easy conversation.
“Can I ask a question?”
He nods. “You may.”
There is a moment’s hesitation, but a sly grin appears on her face. “What do you do for fun?”
For two steps, his gait falters. He recovers quickly. “For fun?”
“Odd. I think there’s an echo out here.” She has no idea where this teasing, flirting woman is coming from. She would greatly appreciate it if she would stop.
Or, perhaps not.
Spock presses on with his hands behind his back. “‘Fun’ implies a state of mind that would trigger a feeling humans would define as contentment or happiness. It is a different experience for Vulcans, of course.”
“Spock, ‘fun’ is only a word in any language. Earth, Andorian, Tellarite-”
“Surprising, that you mention the latter. They are a rather… illogical species.”
“Their race is a founding member of the Federation. But I digress. Fun can signify a whole range of things, whatever activity or thing you enjoy doing, and yes,” she says with a snicker, stopping him from interrupting her with another analysis about the emotions involved in enjoying something, “you can feel joy. I know Vulcans feel emotions too, same as humans. Probably even more powerfully than us, correct?”
“You are accurate in your assessment, Nyota.” His voice is still steady and calm.
She shrugs, maintaining her casual manner. “The study of any language system involves understanding the culture, first and foremost. And as Vulcan is a founding member of the Federation, it’s imperative to know as much as possible about your world, not only to understand how you communicate but-”
Here, she stops. How to phrase this, so as to not reveal too much?
For now, at least.
“But to avoid any misunderstandings between us.”
“Misunderstandings?”
“Well, you wouldn’t want to apply Klingon enunciation patterns, complete with corresponding body language, when speaking Vulcan, would you?”
“To do so would be illogical.”
“Exactly. An understanding of other cultures is necessary for linguists. Only then can you find the commonalities and variants that assist our understanding of other races.” She keeps her voice light. Despite the almost analytical discussion, Nyota rather likes talking about things such as language with a casual air. “For example, let’s return to my original question. I want to know what you do with your time when you are not at work. I define this as fun. You may have a different term to describe it, and no doubt it is far more elegant and logical than ours. But the meaning is similar. Ultimately, both of us find a way to come together, despite our cultural and linguistic differences.”
He ponders this, finally nodding. “Indeed. The idea of finding common ground among various species does fascinate me, as you are well aware.” Nyota can hear a tinge of amusement in his otherwise even tone.
“So, let me ask you again; what things do you enjoy to do that don’t involve your duties here at Starfleet?”
”I enjoy standard tri-dimensional chess. Besides our music, it is the one recreational activity that puts our minds in a state similar to Vulcan meditation. Which is, for us, enjoyable.” His voice increases in volume; it is a faint shift, but Nyota recognizes it as pride. Spock’s mouth slides up a little bit to the right side of his face. “I admit my talents give me much satisfaction. After all, I am Grandmaster of the Federation’s Three Dimensional Chess Organization.”
She smiles broadly, loving the fact that he can still be cocky about something. In the back of her mind, she fancies he might be trying to impress her.
“Do you prefer the 4x4x3 field or the 8x8x3?”
He stops walking. “I realize that you are proficient in Vulcan and possess familiarity with our race, but I was not aware of your knowledge of our recreational activities.”
Nyota approaches him, careful not to invade his space, but standing closer to him than she has ever dared. Hiding her attraction to him grows harder for her, mostly because she is dying to know if there is anything to her suspicions that he could possibly be attracted to her as well. “Like I said before, I love doing research. I figured I might look into Vulcan chess. It’s important to you, something you’re talented at.” Her voice is lower and deeper than before. “I wouldn’t mind if you taught me how to play some time.”
He blinks, and then he bows his head. “It would be my pleasure.”
Her smile softens. “Besides, it would give us something to talk about that doesn’t involve alien languages and you asking for my help all the time.” She broadens her grin, hoping that he does not take offense to her little joke, because it should be obvious that she doesn’t mind helping him; after all, it is her job.
His eyebrows shoot straight upward. “I know that you possess an extraordinary aptitude for xenolinguistics, hence leading you to feel a deep affection toward the subject, but I was unaware that you were tiring of talking about it. Additionally, it is not necessary to do research regarding Vulcans in order to converse with me.”
She shuts her eyes. Yes, she is tired of beating around the bush.
Nyota feels the tiniest bit exasperated that she will have to spell it out for him, and yes, she already knew that that was a possibility. But she also feels charmed by his apparent obtuseness in regards to matters of the heart.
As the saying goes, she will simply have to cowboy up and take the initiative.
“Spock, I want…”
It is much easier to think than to do.
“Are you alright?” he asks; she fancies she can hear the worry in his voice, as subtle as he allows it to be.
“D-dinner.” She finishes her thought as dignified as she can. “Dinner. Tonight. Because I’m hungry. Would you like to join me?”
“Dinner?” he asks, his voice smooth, but softer than normal. “This is a most unusual request, Nyota.” He finishes speaking with a light tone, his voice lifting up slightly as he says her name.
She strains her brain, looking for some reason that does not betray herself.
“Y-yes, I know it’s unusual. I only mean as colleagues, of course. We can simply dine together, right? Can’t we-”
Go on a date?
“Simply sit down at a restaurant and just-”
Make out?
“Talk?”
Spock waits a beat before answering. “It is not unusual for Captain Pike to take members of his own crew out for meals. Additionally, I have witnessed other instructors inviting their aides to dinner as a demonstration of their gratitude for their work. If we dine together tonight, would that be a sufficient demonstration of my gratitude for the work you have accomplished today?”
Nyota laughs; his matter-of-fact attitude about dining with her as a show of gratitude beguiles her. Yes, she blames this on her attraction to the man, but he wouldn’t be Spock without some intellectual dissection of customs humans take for granted.
“Seriously, you don’t have to. You don’t have to use your credits on me. We can go Dutch… meaning we can split the bill,” she adds when his face registers confusion.
“Vulcans do not express appreciation to another party regardless of whether the other party has performed admirably and has produced the highest quality of work. I understand, though, that this is acceptable behavior among humans. Gifts to demonstrate that one feels gratitude toward the other for their time and efforts. As I am also part human, it is logical that I explore this custom.”
She cannot help it; she raises her eyebrow at him. “Treating me to dinner with me is logical, then?”
It tickles Nyota that Spock rationalizes dinner with her in this manner. Not that she’ll argue with him. If it means she gets to spend more time with him, then she’s all for it.
“It is. And, as you are my aide, your health remains my concern.”
“My health?” She shakes her head and waves her extended finger in front of him. “Look, I can take care of myself. I don’t need a man to force me to eat, especially when I’m working.” She hears the slight twinge of exasperation in her voice; the last thing she wants him to think of her is that she’s some wilting flower that needs to be tended to by others. After all, she's still looking for areas in the department where she can excel. What good will it do to have Spock think she's weak? Especially if she has to ask him for references in the future.
And if that’s what he thinks about her, there wasn’t much hope for them after all. Spock would not want someone he thinks of as weak…
Or, you know, someone who’s a student. She wants to kick herself again.
“I have no doubt that you can take care of yourself. But, for tonight, I would ask that you allow me to not only show my appreciation for your work, but to provide nourishment for you, as you have allowed yourself to be deprived of it.”
She opens her mouth to reply that, no thank you, she appreciates his offer to pay for her meal, but-
“You have deprived yourself of food because of a job that I tasked you with, Nyota,” he says, his voice washing over her like a warm wave of sound. “Allow me to do this for you. I believe the appropriate word humans would apply to this situation is ‘please’.”
With that, she feels her insides melt. Nyota nods and she never lets her smile falter. “Very well then, Commander. Lead the way.”
****
Part Three here
Chapter/Part: Two -- No Simple Matter
Author: Suzanne78
Characters/Pairings: Spock, Nyota Uhura
Rating: PG
Summary: He does not knows the ways in which he tests her. Even as an aide, Nyota is, quite unfortunately, drawn to her instructor.
A/N: No warnings. I must give a huge thank you to mrstater for her amazing beta-work and suggestions. After some thought, I decided to expand my Spock/Uhura one-shot "The Test" and explore their relationship at the Academy before the events of the movie. I did add some material to this after she looked it over for me, so any remaining mistakes here are mine. And I will be making this a small, multi-chapter fic.
And, mrstater, I'm saving the last half of what you beta'd for another chapter ;-D.
Part One here
Part One: The Test here
Part Two: No Simple Matter
Nyota Uhura, Advanced Phonology aide for Starfleet Academy’s Xenolinguistics Department for the past five months, is on her ninth hour of listening to transmissions from deep within the Delta Quadrant.
Gone is the anger she felt toward Spock, the annoyance regarding how he misled her during the application process to be the Advanced Phonology aide. Now, her mind is all about her current job… and wondering where the commander is.
Her brain is tired, but still she works. There will soon be a vacancy for an aide in the Advanced Acoustical Engineering department, and she damn well knows she is more than qualified for it. Thus, she continues to work on her current assignment and to hell with everything else.
For this job, Starfleet has instructed Commander Spock to use his best resources to study some odd signals coming from the quadrant. While normally her role as Spock’s aide consists of helping him prepare lessons for his lectures and research for his papers, among other duties, this was a special request made to both the commander and the instructor of the Advanced Acoustical Engineering class, Commander Douglas Kyle.
And both have their best people working on it with them.
For Spock, that obviously means Nyota; that thought pleases her greatly.
He has not left her side today, except for the past hour. They worked together, practically side-by-side, pouring over consoles, cleaning the signals from the transmission, and studying the Starfleet database to find any species or race that could be using this odd language system…
He’s hot.
Stop that!
What? I’m talking about his brains. What are YOU talking about?
“My brain hates me,” she whines quietly; she is thankful that no one can read her thoughts. She blames this six-day workweek for the sudden mental dialogue sprouting in her head.
Not to mention occasionally picturing various images of her boss… images that are not entirely innocent.
Quit it!
Nyota finishes her notes on the PADD. Checking the time, she breathes out in relief. Five o’clock. Getting to work early on a Saturday has its benefits; she’ll have plenty of time to go home, shower, and head out to the bars with Gaila and their friends-
Or maybe she won’t. She feels tired. Perhaps she’ll curl up with a nice bottle of Bajoran springwine and find something perfectly mindless to read. Take her mind off of work this and work that…
Not to mention Spock, and how much time they have been spending together lately.
She drags her hand down her face, shuts her eyes and inhales through her nose. Her position as an Advanced Phonology aide affords both of them almost unlimited contact with the other person. For Nyota, spending time around Spock is not only mentally stimulating, but easy. Fun for her, and she suspects for him as well.
Their interactions always have a certain spirit about them. There is a teasing intellectualism that characterizes their conversations. A surprising amount too, given that it's Spock.
But there are more revealing moments from both parties. Nyota can see the smallest reactions to things she does or says, either with his quirking lips or his darkening skin. She fancies that he allows, only for a second or two, the briefest exposure of his human side. It makes her feel lightheaded that she can draw out this softness from Spock that others never see.
The physical displays of emotion recede, of course, because he catches himself before they blossom into more. But Nyota knows he is getting used to her-
Flirting.
Personality.
But their increased contact, their ever-growing comfort with each other makes things rather difficult. Confusing. There are rules that define what they are, what they can do, and most importantly, what they cannot do.
It is the cannot that drives Nyota up the wall, that makes her want to storm into the next Academy council assembly and tell then exactly what they can do with their Code of Student Conduct.
If she had a schoolgirl crush before, Nyota realizes it has blossomed into something more adult.
And she wonders, on days like this, whether he feels it too.
He is your professor, and he respects the Academy’s rules.
So that is clearly that.
Nyota sets the earpiece down on the console and rubs her weary eyes. She sighs and stretches her arms high above her head. “Maybe I don’t need to go out with the girls tonight.”
“On the contrary, you have earned it by working as long and as hard as you have today.”
His voice startles her and Nyota has to take a moment to breathe. Also to stifle the rather vulgar swear that is on the verge of slipping out.
She spins around to stare at the commander, slightly annoyed at how quietly he enters rooms… and how he manages to appear every time her thoughts turn to him.
“Spock! You scared me.”
He tilts his head, peering at her curiously. “I assure you that my intention was not to scare you.”
This time, Nyota cocks her eyebrow; she has practiced this mannerism, and now she can do it when the occasion calls. “You should give a girl warning next time you sneak upon her.” Before she can stop herself, she blurts out, “You’ve been gone for a while. I was starting to worry.”
She mentally smacks herself. What the hell are you doing?
Spock does not answer her for five seconds. In the ensuing quiet, she thinks she can see his face darken slightly. When he does finally answer, he ignores the last part of what she has said. To her great relief. “I only wanted to state an observation. It would benefit you to relax; therefore spending time with your friends would be-”
He pauses, searching for the right word.
“Fun, Commander?”
“Therapeutic. I know you have been here since this early this morning.”
“You were here before I was.”
“That is true,” he says. “However, I am aware of the need humans have to balance their intellectual endeavors with recreation.”
Nyota speaks without thinking. “Well, I’m not like most humans.”
Spock nods in agreement. “Indeed, you are not. There is another concern that I have regarding the time you have spent here today.”
Upon hearing this, she stops breathing. “You’re concerned about something?”
“I am not certain if you have yet eaten today. Will it be necessary to order you to consume something to maintain your health?”
She smiles without reservation. There were a hundred different things Spock could've said at that point, all meaning the same thing: "You are spending too much time with me, Nyota. I tire of your simple ways."
He worries about her not eating. About her health. She attempts to convince herself that his concern is strictly professional, but she can’t help but think there is more to it than that.
“No sir. I’ve managed to snack while you were gone. I’m fine-”
As if on cue, her stomach rumbles. The noise causes Spock’s eyebrow to arch, punctuating the moment. “It appears that you disagree with your own conclusions.”
“Yes. I do appear to disagree with myself.”
“So, perhaps I shall order you to take care of yourself. After all, I enjoy your contributions to my lectures, both when you were a student and, now, as my aide. Your absence would be a detriment to me.” He watches her, creasing his brow as if considering something before he speaks again. “And I admit that I have come to look forward to our interactions outside of work. Therefore, it would personally affect me should you require leave due to illness.”
Nyota’s mind reels. Never before has he admitted anything like this regarding her company. It certainly supports what has been running through her mind recently; there is something more between them. Something beyond their student and instructor relationship.
“Well, I’m flattered that you’re concerned with whether I’m getting enough food and recreation to balance out my work. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you cared.”
And of course she ruins it. Sometimes she wonders what spirit possesses her brain, making her say things that were entirely inappropriate when she gets nervous.
Before he can reply (but not before she notices his skin coloring slightly), she clears her throat and hands over her PADD. “I organized my notes while you were gone. I hope this won’t be frustrating for Starfleet, but everything we try seems to reach a dead end. The only thing we know is that the communication doesn’t originate from any carbon-based life forms in the Federation’s database.”
Spock looks at her. “There are times that only through a process of eliminating what something is not, makes clear what something actually is.”
“I hope that this is one of those times.”
“Your hard work in eliminating possible carbon-based life forms will be immensely helpful to Starfleet. You must know that, Nyota.” He pauses. “And to me as well.”
She knows she’s grinning from ear to ear as she pulls the strap of her bag over her shoulder and fluffs her long, loose hair until it falls freely down her back. She straightens out her skirt and regards Spock. “Believe me, I am more than happy to help you, in whatever capacity you need.”
She urges herself to shut up. Now. Five minutes ago. As soon as possible. She sounds like a simpering little girl. And the last thing Spock would ever want is a simpering girl hanging all over him.
But as she regards him, she notices his skin still has a deeper olive color than normal: certainly not anywhere as green as Gaila’s, but a slightly more intense hue than his usual tint.
Perhaps she does have an effect on him.
She almost reaches out to him, but she stops herself. She wants to touch him, even if it is just to shake his hand, but that would not be right. Touching a Vulcan, even a half-Vulcan such as Spock, is different from touching a human. He might sense things about her regarding her feelings for him.
Although that might not necessarily be a bad thing.
She stops herself and shakes her head. “All right. I’m off. If you need to ask me anything, don’t hesitate to-”
“Would you like some company?”
She blinks. “Ex-excuse me?”
“If you would permit me, I can walk you back to your apartment. I have been thinking that perhaps some air might do both of us some good.”
Nyota shrugs and slowly shakes her head, surprised at the request. “Uh, sure.” It sounds more like a question rather than a definitive reply.
They walk out of the building and onto the campus grounds. There are other cadets and instructors milling about, but they pay no mind to the two colleagues moving together, falling into easy conversation.
“Can I ask a question?”
He nods. “You may.”
There is a moment’s hesitation, but a sly grin appears on her face. “What do you do for fun?”
For two steps, his gait falters. He recovers quickly. “For fun?”
“Odd. I think there’s an echo out here.” She has no idea where this teasing, flirting woman is coming from. She would greatly appreciate it if she would stop.
Or, perhaps not.
Spock presses on with his hands behind his back. “‘Fun’ implies a state of mind that would trigger a feeling humans would define as contentment or happiness. It is a different experience for Vulcans, of course.”
“Spock, ‘fun’ is only a word in any language. Earth, Andorian, Tellarite-”
“Surprising, that you mention the latter. They are a rather… illogical species.”
“Their race is a founding member of the Federation. But I digress. Fun can signify a whole range of things, whatever activity or thing you enjoy doing, and yes,” she says with a snicker, stopping him from interrupting her with another analysis about the emotions involved in enjoying something, “you can feel joy. I know Vulcans feel emotions too, same as humans. Probably even more powerfully than us, correct?”
“You are accurate in your assessment, Nyota.” His voice is still steady and calm.
She shrugs, maintaining her casual manner. “The study of any language system involves understanding the culture, first and foremost. And as Vulcan is a founding member of the Federation, it’s imperative to know as much as possible about your world, not only to understand how you communicate but-”
Here, she stops. How to phrase this, so as to not reveal too much?
For now, at least.
“But to avoid any misunderstandings between us.”
“Misunderstandings?”
“Well, you wouldn’t want to apply Klingon enunciation patterns, complete with corresponding body language, when speaking Vulcan, would you?”
“To do so would be illogical.”
“Exactly. An understanding of other cultures is necessary for linguists. Only then can you find the commonalities and variants that assist our understanding of other races.” She keeps her voice light. Despite the almost analytical discussion, Nyota rather likes talking about things such as language with a casual air. “For example, let’s return to my original question. I want to know what you do with your time when you are not at work. I define this as fun. You may have a different term to describe it, and no doubt it is far more elegant and logical than ours. But the meaning is similar. Ultimately, both of us find a way to come together, despite our cultural and linguistic differences.”
He ponders this, finally nodding. “Indeed. The idea of finding common ground among various species does fascinate me, as you are well aware.” Nyota can hear a tinge of amusement in his otherwise even tone.
“So, let me ask you again; what things do you enjoy to do that don’t involve your duties here at Starfleet?”
”I enjoy standard tri-dimensional chess. Besides our music, it is the one recreational activity that puts our minds in a state similar to Vulcan meditation. Which is, for us, enjoyable.” His voice increases in volume; it is a faint shift, but Nyota recognizes it as pride. Spock’s mouth slides up a little bit to the right side of his face. “I admit my talents give me much satisfaction. After all, I am Grandmaster of the Federation’s Three Dimensional Chess Organization.”
She smiles broadly, loving the fact that he can still be cocky about something. In the back of her mind, she fancies he might be trying to impress her.
“Do you prefer the 4x4x3 field or the 8x8x3?”
He stops walking. “I realize that you are proficient in Vulcan and possess familiarity with our race, but I was not aware of your knowledge of our recreational activities.”
Nyota approaches him, careful not to invade his space, but standing closer to him than she has ever dared. Hiding her attraction to him grows harder for her, mostly because she is dying to know if there is anything to her suspicions that he could possibly be attracted to her as well. “Like I said before, I love doing research. I figured I might look into Vulcan chess. It’s important to you, something you’re talented at.” Her voice is lower and deeper than before. “I wouldn’t mind if you taught me how to play some time.”
He blinks, and then he bows his head. “It would be my pleasure.”
Her smile softens. “Besides, it would give us something to talk about that doesn’t involve alien languages and you asking for my help all the time.” She broadens her grin, hoping that he does not take offense to her little joke, because it should be obvious that she doesn’t mind helping him; after all, it is her job.
His eyebrows shoot straight upward. “I know that you possess an extraordinary aptitude for xenolinguistics, hence leading you to feel a deep affection toward the subject, but I was unaware that you were tiring of talking about it. Additionally, it is not necessary to do research regarding Vulcans in order to converse with me.”
She shuts her eyes. Yes, she is tired of beating around the bush.
Nyota feels the tiniest bit exasperated that she will have to spell it out for him, and yes, she already knew that that was a possibility. But she also feels charmed by his apparent obtuseness in regards to matters of the heart.
As the saying goes, she will simply have to cowboy up and take the initiative.
“Spock, I want…”
It is much easier to think than to do.
“Are you alright?” he asks; she fancies she can hear the worry in his voice, as subtle as he allows it to be.
“D-dinner.” She finishes her thought as dignified as she can. “Dinner. Tonight. Because I’m hungry. Would you like to join me?”
“Dinner?” he asks, his voice smooth, but softer than normal. “This is a most unusual request, Nyota.” He finishes speaking with a light tone, his voice lifting up slightly as he says her name.
She strains her brain, looking for some reason that does not betray herself.
“Y-yes, I know it’s unusual. I only mean as colleagues, of course. We can simply dine together, right? Can’t we-”
Go on a date?
“Simply sit down at a restaurant and just-”
Make out?
“Talk?”
Spock waits a beat before answering. “It is not unusual for Captain Pike to take members of his own crew out for meals. Additionally, I have witnessed other instructors inviting their aides to dinner as a demonstration of their gratitude for their work. If we dine together tonight, would that be a sufficient demonstration of my gratitude for the work you have accomplished today?”
Nyota laughs; his matter-of-fact attitude about dining with her as a show of gratitude beguiles her. Yes, she blames this on her attraction to the man, but he wouldn’t be Spock without some intellectual dissection of customs humans take for granted.
“Seriously, you don’t have to. You don’t have to use your credits on me. We can go Dutch… meaning we can split the bill,” she adds when his face registers confusion.
“Vulcans do not express appreciation to another party regardless of whether the other party has performed admirably and has produced the highest quality of work. I understand, though, that this is acceptable behavior among humans. Gifts to demonstrate that one feels gratitude toward the other for their time and efforts. As I am also part human, it is logical that I explore this custom.”
She cannot help it; she raises her eyebrow at him. “Treating me to dinner with me is logical, then?”
It tickles Nyota that Spock rationalizes dinner with her in this manner. Not that she’ll argue with him. If it means she gets to spend more time with him, then she’s all for it.
“It is. And, as you are my aide, your health remains my concern.”
“My health?” She shakes her head and waves her extended finger in front of him. “Look, I can take care of myself. I don’t need a man to force me to eat, especially when I’m working.” She hears the slight twinge of exasperation in her voice; the last thing she wants him to think of her is that she’s some wilting flower that needs to be tended to by others. After all, she's still looking for areas in the department where she can excel. What good will it do to have Spock think she's weak? Especially if she has to ask him for references in the future.
And if that’s what he thinks about her, there wasn’t much hope for them after all. Spock would not want someone he thinks of as weak…
Or, you know, someone who’s a student. She wants to kick herself again.
“I have no doubt that you can take care of yourself. But, for tonight, I would ask that you allow me to not only show my appreciation for your work, but to provide nourishment for you, as you have allowed yourself to be deprived of it.”
She opens her mouth to reply that, no thank you, she appreciates his offer to pay for her meal, but-
“You have deprived yourself of food because of a job that I tasked you with, Nyota,” he says, his voice washing over her like a warm wave of sound. “Allow me to do this for you. I believe the appropriate word humans would apply to this situation is ‘please’.”
With that, she feels her insides melt. Nyota nods and she never lets her smile falter. “Very well then, Commander. Lead the way.”
****
Part Three here