InsaneJournal

The problem with being in love with a Vulcan was that they didn't exactly wear their emotions on their sleeves. It wasn't easy to distinguish when one was joking, when they were upset, or even when they were flirting. Uhura liked to think she'd gotten to know Spock well enough to translate his emotions just as she did most languages. That being said, they'd been apart for a while and, though they'd worked to patch something resembling a friendship, she felt she'd fallen behind.

Which is why he was so infuriating at that moment. His words could be interpreted so many ways. He'd been sorry to have missed her on leave? What had prevented him from simply saying hello? So he'd had meetings. It wasn't as if she hadn't spent a good portion of leave in San Francisco. And she was easily accessible.

The man could be one of the most frustrating people she'd ever dealt with. And she had known Kirk as a cadet.

But he could also be a loving, kind, compassionate man, too. And god if she didn't miss that. It would be a lie to say she hadn't tried to get over him. Had even flirted around the ship a bit. But Spock wasn't the kind of man one just got over. As much as she thought it might stop hurting if she did.

Now he wanted to talk. After being sweet and telling her he'd missed her company and ugh, Vulcan men were no less complicated and annoying than human men and it would only be fitting that Spock was both. Yet that frustration didn't stop Uhura from lingering in the hall near his room, hesitating. Maybe she should have contacted him first. Probably. Oops.

Ever since introducing himself on the network, Spock had felt like more people were watching him as he completed simple, routine tasks, and it was definitely certain that more people were greeting him as he traveled across the ship.

And it wasn't as if he didn't find the travelers curious or interesting. He certainly did. That didn't mean they belonged upon the Enterprise, essentially preventing the ship from carrying on it's most basic of missions.

But those concerns had met deaf ears, so Spock was simply adjusting. When it came to the woman standing outside his room, however, he was not at all put off by her appearance. "Nyota," he said simply, walking up to her. "I was not expecting you."

Pausing, he took a moment to look her over. It was perhaps a sign of her power over him that when he was around her, he did not actively attempt to suppress the half of him that was human. Even after the last few months, which had been filled with a lingering sense of uncertainty, she still had that sway on him an

Turning away momentarily to open the door to his quarters, he glanced back at her. "Would you like to come in? I presume you would like to speak with me?" He had mentioned to her that it was time they spoke, so logic dictated that she was here for that purpose. If not, he was in for another surprise.

She hadn't heard him coming up, which was rare for someone whose career was listening. It was just, she'd been so wrapped up in her own thoughts. And then there was that voice and she whipped around, feeling guilty but not knowing for certain why.

“I… Yes. I mean, I am here to speak with you. If now is suitable and all.” There was no way to make that not sound completely awkward and she could feel the blood rushing in her ears from sheer embarrassment. “If you're busy, we can always chat later. I wouldn't want to interrupt anything.”

She was rambling. For someone who prided herself on being cool and collected to be rambling was a testament on how anxious he had her feeling. Which sort of made it hurt worse when she remembered that there'd been a time not so long ago that he was one of the few people she'd felt truly comfortable around.

"You are always welcome here, Nyota," Spock replied. "Come on in."

Spock was never one for small talk, it did not suit him well as a Vulcan. So as soon as they were both situated he said, "I was, for a time, debating leaving Starfleet to carry on the work of Ambassador Spock." He was uncertain if she knew this, as he had not personally told her since they had not yet resumed normal conversation. "I wanted you to know that, as I felt it was important."

Just as his decision to remain was important. There were certainly implications, but whether Nyota found those favorable or not was entirely unknown to him.

She didn't know what she'd been expecting. She had a feeling it wasn't that. The first reaction she felt was panic. What would the Enterprise even be like without him? Even if they were through, he was a presence on the ship. She needed him here. The crew did. Sure, that's what she meant.

The second reaction was curiosity. “You… You chose to stay. Didn't you?” It had been quite a while since Ambassador Spock had passed. Surely if he was going to leave them and take his place, he'd have done so already. Wouldn't he? Or maybe he was still considering it. “When did all this come up?” Obviously after their split. Maybe it had even been a part of the reason he'd left her. She wouldn't be overly surprised.

"You were aware, of course, that I had also considered leaving as a duty to furthering my race given the circumstances we have found ourselves in. The death of Ambassador Spock only served to strengthen the notion that I should leave. Yet it was Ambassador Spock himself who contributed to my decision to stay, in a way I cannot properly explain at this present time," Spock said, offering a cryptic explanation.

He had kept the photograph, but it was not on display. All of their futures had been altered, their destinies changed, and so he did not feel it proper to display a remnant of what would have been otherwise. "That and the obvious were the deciding factors, more than anything else."

Oh, that she knew. That she most definitely knew and though she'd begun the conversation with a little bit of optimism, her jaw set in an expression of defiance. “Yes. I can see why that might be a concern. Though I'll again remind you that you're not the only Vulcan who can work towards the continuation and betterment of your race.” She may have possibly snapped at him a time or two. Or three. Or… Well. She hadn't exactly been happy with his decision.

His cryptic answer was somehow both concerning and inspiring. If it were something that presented any danger, she knew he'd have told them. At the very least, he'd have told Kirk. And she liked to think he'd have told her, too.

“The obvious?” She questioned, lifting her eyebrows in his direction. “Not much about you is obvious.” She was right on the edge of her temper flaring and she knew it. That didn't bode well for them.

"You, Nyota," Spock replied, believing that of course it was obvious that she had played a significant role in his decision. The edge present in her voice surprised him, as if she truly had no idea.

"I am sorry if that was unclear."

That certainly came as a surprise to her. Yet, did it? The way he'd been acting recently did imply there might still be some hope. Though she didn't really expect him to come right out and say so.

Uhura crossed her arms in front of herself, a silent and subtle effort to protect herself from this conversation. Maybe she shouldn't have come. “Why?” She asked, looking him over, searching that familiar face for those subtle emotions he wore.

Spock simply looked at Uhura for a moment, noting her defensive shift in stance. His eyebrow went up in a reflexive move, though he was keenly aware of it. "Why?" he repeated.

"Do you not understand how I feel about you still?"

Her eyes closed briefly and she bit at her lower lip. This couldn't actually be happening but it was. “I don't know. You tell me. You're the one who decided that repopulating the Vulcan race was more important than what we had. You're the one who walked away, not me.”

Which he knew. She knew he knew. And it hurt. That didn't mean a part of her didn't still want to flying into his arms.

"Nyota," Spock said, his voice quieter than usual. "I chose to remain with Starfleet. I chose to remain here. I may have thought I was going to walk away, but I never actually left. Nor has anything changed in how I feel about you."

He hesitated, uncharacteristically. "I assumed that was obvious and that it was you who now felt differently."

“How was I supposed to know?” She questioned, her own tone going soft. “You didn't leave, but that doesn't mean you didn't still have intentions to do so.”

She so badly wanted to rip into him. To be angry, to remind him she wouldn't be used and stepped on. But the problem was...she still very much loved the big idiot. “I don't,” she added a moment later. “I don't feel differently. I wish I could. But I don't.”

"You wish that you could feel differently?" Spock questioned, unable to allow his curiosity to pass unacknowledged. "Of all the emotions that I have felt, Nyota, the love I feel for you is one I do not regret. Only that my words and actions have caused you to question it."

If she could hate him, she would. She would, just to make him hurt the way she'd been hurting for so long now. But she couldn't. “I want to be mad at you,” she whispered, despite herself. She wanted to yell, to rant and cry and make him see just how hurt she'd been.

Instead, her eyes welled up against her will. Dammit. “Of course I questioned your feelings, Spock. One of us can't read minds at all.” Not that he could, exactly. But he'd know what she meant. “I don't… I'm not sure what you want me to say here.”

To his credit, Spock did not launch into a description of a Vulcan mind meld, and instead silently closed the difference between himself and Uhura. "I am sorry, Nyota," he said softly. Even he could understand that her emotions were currently conflicted, and he knew that he stood as the source of that turmoil.

She actually did know a fair bit about the mind meld, and if he'd started on one of his verbose tellings, she'd have been torn. It would have been a good change of subject, really. And she did love hearing him talk. But she really didn't think she could stand hearing that much “Vulcan” anything at the moment.

Sighing, she shook her head, looking him over. She still found him annoyingly good looking. Which was not helping her conflicted emotions one bit. “What do you want? Really. If we could put the last months behind us without a second thought, what is it you want?”

Everything within Spock wanted to point out how illogical it was to consider an improbable proposition such as ignoring the past when it clearly had an impact on the present situation. If there was ever a question as to how he felt about the woman standing in front of him, the fact that he did not reply in that manner should put those doubts to rest.

"I would wish for you to know that given a choice between furthering the population and culture of the remaining Vulcans, and you, I choose you. I would wish… that we could put the past behind us, as improbable as that is, so that we could be together."

The uncertainty Spock felt in sharing what he hoped for was etched upon his face as he waited for her to say something in return. There was something about Nyota that took away his ability to completely shut off his emotions, and he was often conflicted about how that made him feel.

It was one of those moments where Uhura wished she could turn off her emotions. It would be nice if she could just turn on her heel and leave. Maybe slap him, or at least throw something at him in the process.

But she couldn't. Not when he was looking at her that way. That worry etched into his face, conflicted emotions running over features that didn't ordinarily show any emotion at all.

Stepping forward, closing the distance between them, she lifted a hand. Instead of slapping his face, she touched it lightly, her fingertips running over his cheekbones. “Maybe we can't put it behind us,” she said softly, searching his eyes. “But it's possible we can move forward instead.”

"That would be most appreciated," Spock replied quietly, leaning into Uhura's touch, his eyes briefly closing as he took a moment to allow himself to feel. And even as he lifted his head, opening his eyes to gaze into hers, he did not close his emotions back off. Nor did he do so when he finally pressed his lips to hers, which he'd wanted to do since finding her awaiting him outside his quarters.

It had been way too long since he'd done that. Her own eyes fluttered closed as he leaned in and after only a brief moment of surprise, she allowed herself to kiss him back. A simple kiss, not nearly what she'd been missing. But it was a start. “I missed you, you jerk,” she said, but her voice was still quiet and her tone was teasing. Her hand drifted down to his shoulder, fingers idly running over the fabric of his uniform.

Something akin to a smile briefly crossed Spock's lips, but the distraction was only momentary. He'd not been able to give her a complete answer when she'd asked what he wanted. This. This is what he'd wanted.

And maybe she was right when she suggested it was possible for them to move forward.