Vulcan Pride 1/3
Title: Vulcan Pride
Rating: T
Pairing: Spock/Uhura
Disclaimer: I'm a college student, clearly I own nothing.
Summary: One sleepless night Uhura bumps into Spock, and tells him a little bit about herself.
Warnings: None yet.
Author's Note: This takes place after the movie sometime, between crises.
It was the middle of the night-or day. Exact time of day was always difficult to determine when nowhere near the sun, or moon, of earth. Everyone else was asleep; that was a better way to put it.
Nyota thought of the word ‘sleep’ in every language she knew before deciding that the actual act was going to evade her completely. What had caused this lack of fatigue? The day’s events on the Enterprise were fairly routine, nothing that should have been keeping her awake.
Perhaps reading would help calm her mind. Crouching down in front of her small bookcase she pulled out her favorite book: Pride and Prejudice. It was such a favorite of hers, in fact, that she had a habit of collecting them. In school, after she had mastered a language, she would always find herself a copy of it written in that same language. It was always fascinating to uncover the subtle differences between each language.
Sadly, a few pages into the original unabridged Romulan version, Nyota grew distracted. After carefully placing the book back into its place, she decided that a walk around the ship would be helpful, since nothing inside the room seemed to be.
She redressed in that days uniform, just in case someone else was unable to sleep and had the same idea she did. It would not be professional to meet Jim in the hallway dressed in her sleepwear, though she’s not sure he would actually care. Slippers were the shoe of choice, though, for the mere fact that they were much more comfortable.
For some reason, as she walked alone under the dimmed artificial light, Nyota was reminded of Debussy’s Clair de Lune. It was a piece she knew well, one that her mother had taught her to play on the piano as a young child. “It sounds like you’re just floating along on a cloud, doesn’t it?” she used to say, and then smile at her daughter. She smiled at the odd memory, and swallowed back a swell of tears.
“Nyota.”
“Oh!” she covered her pounding heart with her hand. He had been staring out the window, at the stars and passing planets. Even as she approached, his gaze stayed outside.
“Spock, you scared me.”
“I apologize. It was not my intention.”
“It’s alright. What are you doing up so late?”
“I, presumably like you, am having trouble sleeping.”
“Any particular reason?” He shook his head. She knew him well enough to know that meant “not any that I am willing to share at the moment”.
“Me neither. I tried reading, but that didn’t work, so I decided to take a walk around the ship.”
“Reading? What were you reading?”
“Nothing,” she said. Pride and Prejudice would be drivel to him, mindless fluff.
“Please,” he turned to face her. “I am curious.”
“Uh-OK-I tried to read the Romulan translation of Pride and Prejudice, but I couldn’t really focus.”
He was quiet for a moment, studying her as he always did. “You said Romulan translation. Could you not find a suitable English version?”
“No, it’s not that,” she said, and proceeded to tell him of her strange little habit.
To this, he lifted a dark brow, and uttered, “Fascinating. One in every language you have mastered?”
“Almost every language. I could never find a copy of it in Vulcan.”
“That would be a product of our strong unsentimentally.”
She wanted to wrap her arms around his middle, and rest her head on his chest, but found the strength to resist the urge. He did not appear to be overly receptive at the moment.
Perhaps because she was closer to him than anyone else she could better tell the slight differences in his moods. At times he would be open with her--as open as his Vulcan side would allow--and at other times he would close off completely. It was more than understandable after all that he had been through recently, and she respected his space.
"I see," she said. "So, you’re saying that I should stop trying to find a copy.”
“I am implying that it would be a futile effort.” Nyota touched him lightly on the arm, and stood on her toes to kiss him on the cheek.
“Thank you, Spock," she said, lightly rubbing his back. "Goodnight.”
As her arm slipped away from his back, he caught it. His hand enveloped hers, and gave it a gentle squeeze before he brought it to his lips.
“Goodnight, Nyota.”
Once back in her room, Nyota leaned against the door, and shook her head. Smiling a little, she climbed into bed.
If anything was capable of making her completely exhausted, it was a conversation with Spock.
Chapter 2 Chapter 3
Rating: T
Pairing: Spock/Uhura
Disclaimer: I'm a college student, clearly I own nothing.
Summary: One sleepless night Uhura bumps into Spock, and tells him a little bit about herself.
Warnings: None yet.
Author's Note: This takes place after the movie sometime, between crises.
It was the middle of the night-or day. Exact time of day was always difficult to determine when nowhere near the sun, or moon, of earth. Everyone else was asleep; that was a better way to put it.
Nyota thought of the word ‘sleep’ in every language she knew before deciding that the actual act was going to evade her completely. What had caused this lack of fatigue? The day’s events on the Enterprise were fairly routine, nothing that should have been keeping her awake.
Perhaps reading would help calm her mind. Crouching down in front of her small bookcase she pulled out her favorite book: Pride and Prejudice. It was such a favorite of hers, in fact, that she had a habit of collecting them. In school, after she had mastered a language, she would always find herself a copy of it written in that same language. It was always fascinating to uncover the subtle differences between each language.
Sadly, a few pages into the original unabridged Romulan version, Nyota grew distracted. After carefully placing the book back into its place, she decided that a walk around the ship would be helpful, since nothing inside the room seemed to be.
She redressed in that days uniform, just in case someone else was unable to sleep and had the same idea she did. It would not be professional to meet Jim in the hallway dressed in her sleepwear, though she’s not sure he would actually care. Slippers were the shoe of choice, though, for the mere fact that they were much more comfortable.
For some reason, as she walked alone under the dimmed artificial light, Nyota was reminded of Debussy’s Clair de Lune. It was a piece she knew well, one that her mother had taught her to play on the piano as a young child. “It sounds like you’re just floating along on a cloud, doesn’t it?” she used to say, and then smile at her daughter. She smiled at the odd memory, and swallowed back a swell of tears.
“Nyota.”
“Oh!” she covered her pounding heart with her hand. He had been staring out the window, at the stars and passing planets. Even as she approached, his gaze stayed outside.
“Spock, you scared me.”
“I apologize. It was not my intention.”
“It’s alright. What are you doing up so late?”
“I, presumably like you, am having trouble sleeping.”
“Any particular reason?” He shook his head. She knew him well enough to know that meant “not any that I am willing to share at the moment”.
“Me neither. I tried reading, but that didn’t work, so I decided to take a walk around the ship.”
“Reading? What were you reading?”
“Nothing,” she said. Pride and Prejudice would be drivel to him, mindless fluff.
“Please,” he turned to face her. “I am curious.”
“Uh-OK-I tried to read the Romulan translation of Pride and Prejudice, but I couldn’t really focus.”
He was quiet for a moment, studying her as he always did. “You said Romulan translation. Could you not find a suitable English version?”
“No, it’s not that,” she said, and proceeded to tell him of her strange little habit.
To this, he lifted a dark brow, and uttered, “Fascinating. One in every language you have mastered?”
“Almost every language. I could never find a copy of it in Vulcan.”
“That would be a product of our strong unsentimentally.”
She wanted to wrap her arms around his middle, and rest her head on his chest, but found the strength to resist the urge. He did not appear to be overly receptive at the moment.
Perhaps because she was closer to him than anyone else she could better tell the slight differences in his moods. At times he would be open with her--as open as his Vulcan side would allow--and at other times he would close off completely. It was more than understandable after all that he had been through recently, and she respected his space.
"I see," she said. "So, you’re saying that I should stop trying to find a copy.”
“I am implying that it would be a futile effort.” Nyota touched him lightly on the arm, and stood on her toes to kiss him on the cheek.
“Thank you, Spock," she said, lightly rubbing his back. "Goodnight.”
As her arm slipped away from his back, he caught it. His hand enveloped hers, and gave it a gentle squeeze before he brought it to his lips.
“Goodnight, Nyota.”
Once back in her room, Nyota leaned against the door, and shook her head. Smiling a little, she climbed into bed.
If anything was capable of making her completely exhausted, it was a conversation with Spock.
Chapter 2 Chapter 3