[text - locked to everyone Uhura thinks or hopes might want to know where she's disappeared to]

[talentd_tongue]

[Backdated to Friday evening.]

I'm at the Magistrate's Tower. I have a staggering amount of work to catch up on. It's easier to just stay here until I've got it all sorted out. I'm not sure how long it will take

Comments

[text; private] Midday Saturday

[inferable]

The effects of the city have recently altered.

[talentd_tongue]

In what way?

[inferable]

[Delay delay delay]

They are affecting memories.

[talentd_tongue]

[That sentence is nowhere near long enough to explain the delay, but let's check just to make sure.]

Specific memories or memory in general?

[inferable]

[Like it'd ever be that easy.]

Specific memories.

[talentd_tongue]

[Ah, but specific memories that he's telling her about, and having some trouble with. That narrows the field a whole lot.

Unless they are brand new memories from his past that he hasn't brought up before. In which case... she is both really touched and entirely without frame of reference.]

How is the city changing them?

[inferable]

[There's another delay here.]

They have been intensified.

[talentd_tongue]

[Oh, she wants to be wrong so bad.]

What memories?

[inferable]

[The reply comes quickly this time so he doesn't back out of making the admission.]

Returning from the katric ark.

[talentd_tongue]

[;_; Fuck you, universe. This reply comes quickly, too, so she doesn't decide not to type it for fear of being rejected, because this is not about her.]

I want you to come here.

[inferable]

I should continue working on the project.

[talentd_tongue]

Yes. But I still want you to come here. You can work from the Tower. I can find you a desk.

[She doesn't want him to be alone and she doesn't want to trust his well being to someone she doesn't know. She wants him in a room where, if he needs it, he has someone who loves him. Because his mother is gone, and this place is horrible, and it hurts enough that he reached out for her.]

[inferable]

[It's an idea that makes him feel a little uncomfortable; to be around strangers when he isn't entirely in control of himself. Even if he stayed in her office alone, it's unlikely her job would leave them undisturbed.]

I can meet you once you have finished for the day.

[video - locked]

[talentd_tongue]

[She's sitting at her desk with an open file folder in front of her, the top sheet of paper covered in red marks in her handwriting. She hasn't left this office for more than half an hour since Friday morning. She's put together, if not entirely perfect. Suit jacket off, hair loose, hardly any makeup. She still looks tired, but she's also in control of herself.]

Don't do this. If you won't come here, I can come to you.

[She looks down at the paperwork.]

I can do this from anywhere, no one needs me to be in this building. I don't know when I'll be finished and I'm not--

[She sighs.]

I don't want you to be alone. I don't want to know you're with people I don't know and feeling like this. We don't have to talk about it-- You don't have to talk to me at all if you don't want to. You can sit here and do whatever you want to do and you don't have to even look at another living soul for as long as you need... but I don't want you to be alone.

Please.

[inferable]

[It takes him a good minute before he finally switches the feed to video. When it does, Spock is sat at a table in a kitchen Uhura will have never seen before; a cup of coffee in front of him despite it not being much use now he's Vulcan again. But it's a habit he'd gotten in to while human, and he's stuck to it since.

Spock himself looks as though he hasn't slept much, despite just how little of it he usually needs. Being woken up by a nightmare for the first time is definitely to blame.]

I would prefer to meet you somewhere quiet.

[talentd_tongue]

All right.

[She stands up, and her head is out of the frame while she gathers papers together and puts them into folders, flips through stacks of envelopes, picks and chooses things and builds a neat pile in the center of her ink blotter in under a minute, she then slides the pile into a leather bag with a shoulder strap.]

We can do quiet.

[Her hand reaches toward the camera, and then the angle is tilting down and there's a very brief view of a computer keyboard before it cuts out.

It turns on again seconds later, this time from the angle of something held in her hand and pointed at her face while she puts on her jacket, transferring the device between her hands to get both the sleeves.]

Where are you?

[She's already walking.]