Story [Star Trek 2009] "A Slow, Sure Burn", Spock/Nyota ficlets and drabbles - Updated 8/11

Author's Note: Ack, I can't believe I let these go for so long. It didn't seem that bad in my mind until I looked at the date bar.

Anyway, here are some drabbles to make up for my neglecting these. It's a grab bag this week - with your humor and your mush and your angst . . . and your goatee!Spock.

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[b]XIX. ?as the moon holds in thrall the tides?


[i]Flirt[/b][/i]

?I almost feel bad for her, Nyota. What do you think, should we warn her??

At her right, Christine Chapel's laughter was bright and clear, even muffled as it was under her hand. The woman's cerulean eyes were twinkling with humor, and her words fairly dripped with her mirth. With her other hand, she traced a single fingertip over the rim of some fluorescent drink that fairly glowed in the dim light of the Star Base's lounge.

Her gaze was slipping past Nyota to the bar ? where Spock had been speaking with Jim, when their conversation was interrupted by a rather pretty officer who was quite interested in the Vulcan commander.

At their right, Audrey snorted. ?It's innocent ? I say we watch her flounder,? the Empath grinned a shark's smile at her subtle prodding at the other woman's emotions, and Nyota had to fight the urge to shake her head. While a Vulcan was reserved with their gifts, Audrey never even thought to sacrifice the edge that hers provided her with ? and the results were often amusing.

She almost felt bad for the other woman ? the girl was clearly interested, and Nyota approved of the way she tried to spark a conversation and not just whisper barely masked insinuations in a clear invitation. Next to his first officer, Jim looked like he was clearly trying not to laugh as Spock answered one of the girl's vague observations with a wordy and off centered lecture.

?Oh,? Audrey winced. ?Totally diverted.?

?The poor dear,? Christine grinned into her glass.

Audrey looked over at Nyota with a smirk on her lips. ?Are you going to help the woman out??

Nyota shook her head. ?You all are enjoying this too much.?

?Who, us?? Audrey blinked up innocently.

?Yes, you,? Nyota returned, and at the laughter that reached her, she turned and made her way up to the bar.

While she talked to Jim, she stood close to Spock ? she could feel the girl's eyes on her, weighing her and her worth in opposed to her own. And Nyota had no doubt about which way the scales would turn.

Look ? and learn, she thought somewhat smugly.

It was not words and touches ? it was unspoken. Body bent softly towards his while on the bar her hand rested close enough to touch, but never did. It was the flicker of a mind across a mind, and relief mingling with teasing as Spock looked at her, his dark eyes blank, but the intensity of his stare telling enough to one willing to listen.

It was -

?Oh, I'm sorry,? the girl took a step back, her skin flushed. ?I didn't realize . . .? and slowly she started to walk away.

- look, and don't touch.



[i][b]Passage[/b][/i]

He had read the same passage written by the same cadet for a total of five times now. The second sentence in the third paragraph was currently a phrase which he could not get his mind to pass over. The comma between the first and second clauses was a particular snag that he did not see disappearing anytime soon.

It was unacceptable.

He tapped his stylus against his desk, vexed when he could feel the tiny claws of a headache approaching.

Most unacceptable, indeed.

?You seem distracted,? across the desk from him, Christopher Pike sounded amused.

?Distraction is an illogical result of an unfocused mind,? Spock mumbled, shuffling the essay under the others ? sure that it was the cadet's writing which was resulting in his inattention.

?Then, what's got you unfocused?? Pike didn't miss a beat.

At the top of the essay, Nyota Uhura's elegant signature caught his eye. Something inside of him both tightened and relaxed ? and he found that he had to fight not to smile.

?It was a momentary lax,? Spock replied. ?I am sure th

 

Deb: Next time the good doctor comes by in the Tardis to pick up a budding author, it may be Miranda who winds up missing.

Have I ever mentioned how much I adore you as of late? Thanks for the awesome words! It's always good to know that these were as fun to read as they were writing.


earlybird: Of course! Welcome to the fun.


Master_Jay: Thank-you for that! Audrey is such a blast to write - thank-you for creating such an awesome character to play with! And, on that note . . .



~MJ

 

Author's Note: For the brilliant Master_Jaina1011, and her blast of an OC whom I have kidnapped within.

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[b]XX. ?to my senses sublime?[/b]

[i]Bridge, USS Enterprise
Stardate: 2261.56[/i]


?There is something not right.?

Audrey looked up at the abrupt announcement from Jim, raising a flame colored brow as a smirk bit into her lips. ?Now, on a ship like this, you have to be more careful when you say stuff like that out of the blue. Not right, in what way??

?In a very . . . different way,? Jim mock whispered. ?I can't quite put my finger on it.?

Audrey walked over to him, and sat down on the arm of the Captain's chair. Silent, she followed Kirk's gaze to where it was resting on his Communication's Lieutenant, and then his First Officer, in turn.

Ah, so he had noticed it too.

Normally, being around the bonded pair was a peaceful turn of time for the Empath. Their bond sang on the mental plane, warm and enriching ? and Audrey enjoyed lapping up the ripples that the river of bright emotion sent out. Right now, though, those ripples were stilled, the bright flares of feeling from the pair just ever so slightly dimmed . . . and pulsing with annoyance, even.

Ah, just a small spat - nothing major, Audrey concluded upon wondering if words needed to be traded ? to either party. Using her eyes, as well as her senses, Audrey fought the urge to grin at how the couple even 'bickered' with each other. Both were looking pointedly at their stations, but every so often there would be looks traded ? weighing and considering, before hardening again when they caught the other looking.

Audrey shrugged when she finished her 'fishing'. ?Nyota has a tongue sharper than an antique saber, and the Vulcan's logic can make him particularly thick headed when he wants to be ? you can't always expect things to be smooth sailing.?

Kirk rubbed at his temples. ?Yes, but I can ask for smooth sailing on the red-eye shift.?

Audrey grinned. ?Up past your bedtime again, Captain??

Kirk snorted. ?More like [i]someone[/i] wouldn't let me get sleep when I needed it.?

Audrey didn't even bother looking chastised. ?If I recall correctly, you were not complaining at the time, [i]Captain[/i].?

Jim gave her a look as he held up a hand, cutting off anything she was going to say in order to take a call at from McCoy ? who was grumbling about some shipment or the other that had came deficient of what was asked for. Anything past that lost her, quite frankly, as she tuned into the cascade of emotions fairly blazing from the two officers who were pointedly 'absorbed' in their work.

?Nyota hasn't scrolled from that page in the last five minutes,? Audrey said as soon as Jim signed off.

Kirk shook his head, before looking over to Spock. ?He's made it through three reports.?

?For Spock? That's equivalent to a complete working breakdown.?

Kirk chuckled. ?Do you know how much I am enjoying not being the one in the doghouse??

?Yes ? this is a rare role reversal,? Audrey drawled.

Kirk didn't bother responding. ?He's actually tapping his stylus. I wish McCoy were here ? he would never let him live this down.?

Audrey shook her head. ?It won't last long. Look,? she gestured to Nyota's station, where the silent woman opened a private message that was just sent to her. Audrey concentrated - feeling a spike of ire, followed by a softening of emotion. While the other two's bond was something she couldn't feel specifically, she could 'see' the incredibly bright gold of it against her senses, and she smiled when it flared and pulsed, soothing over the tautness it had been exhibiting the whole shift.

?And in three . . . two . . . one,? Audrey counted down.

?Captain, may I request taking the rest of this shift early? The communications lines are silent, and I would be be more use to you next rotation,? Nyota asked respectfully, her hand held to her head. She wasn't stretching the headache by any means, Audrey knew ? any negative emotions in a bond such as theirs warped and protested furiously ? and th

 

earlybird: I liked Kirk here too.

Deb: And I ADORED, ADORED, ADORED, ADORED two things about how Spock dealt. 1. He couldn't get through a plethora of reports in less than a minute. Off his game, sweetie was. 2. He sent the message, didn't stew and hem and haw.

This was a fun character moment for me. With their personalities there are bound to be some rough patches - its how you deal with it that counts. And as for your viggie - um, complete raptures!!


Master_Jay: Your Audrey is a blast! I will definitely be trying her out every now and again.


~MJ

 

Author's Note: So, these snippets fit into a "Pride & Prejudice" sort of AU that I have been brainstorming for a while now. I'm not sure if it will ever come to completion, but here are some ideas for it for if and when. The prior viggie set in this verse was posted a few entries back.

Enjoy!

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[b]XXI. ?pride before a passion?[/b]

The first time he asks her to marry him she had not known quite what to say. What to feel.

She had been incredulous. She had been insulted. A large part of her wanted to slap him, and a very, very small part of her had been shocked. Shocked that he had seen her staring him straight in the eye when he had done nothing but look above and beyond her. After all, she had treated him with nothing but cool politeness, contemptuousness thriving within her as everything rough about his character snagged at the smooth lines of hers.

She . . . Marry [i]him[/i].

No.

She could not. Would not. Not after the way he had treated her - and so many others, for that matter. Not after he had ruined Christine's hopes for happiness and love. Not after the way he had ruined Sybok's hopes for a future ? casting the unfortunate soul down into poverty and hopelessness when he should have been respected as the brother he almost was ? truly had been, if not for the hypocrisies of society admitting to such a thing.

Nyota let her ire, her indignation, swirl and build within her, enjoying the flashes of feeling that she almost saw bloom upon his face ? within his eyes. His answers were as biting in return, his tongue a barbed thing which she would have admired if she were in any lesser fit of righteous rage.

?Not if you were the last man on Earth,? Nyota hissed at long last, finally unable to bear their trade and turn of words, her hands fairly shaking with her anger.

For a moment on his marble cast face ? ancient in its harsh beauty and its unfeeling coldness, she thought she saw pain flash. But only for a second, and then she saw even the esteem in his eyes die a haughty death.

And she stood triumphantly over the funeral pyre.

.
.

The first time she meets him after reading his letter, he speaks nothing of marriage, but she found her mind full with her burned bridges nonetheless.

They had been on Earth at the time ? she with a traveling party, and alone in the area of Britain which bore one of his family's estates. The former wife of Ambassador Sarek had been human, and had loved the lands of the English. Sarek had indulged his wife in this, as he did in everything, and had built her quite the home on the shores of a quiet lake. The house was built in the Old Terran style, brick layer upon brick layer, with large columns holding up the entrance, and sweeping staircases and grand windows within. The whole estate was perfectly settled, perfectly situated ? a human's eye for beauty combined with a Vulcan's resonance with the natural world. Within the halls, alone inside her thoughts as her party had walked ahead of her, Nyota had wondered how Spock had grown from such a beginning.

On the wall, the cold portrait of him held no answers - just eyes as luminous in paint as they were in actuality, but lacking a light all the same.

And then . . . and then she was no longer staring at a painting, but the actual man before her. He was clearly surprised to find her within his home, and the barriers on his emotions were nonexistent as he stammered out an excuse and took his leave from her. Oh, how he must have despised her . . .

That thought alone struck her more deeply than she would have thought it too. Obviously, that was more from her own embarrassment at her mistaken views as anything else. Truly, it couldn't be anything else.

But still, as her emotions swirled impetuously around her, she let herself marvel and reflect . . . that all of this could have been hers. She could have been the mistress of such a grand estate.

And little did she know, that before she had noticed him ? when he had observed her cast in the dying sunlight from the impe

 

Author's Note: I know, long time no see with these, right?

But the Spock/Uhura muses have been poking me, and I have a whole notebook full of little snippets waiting to be written. So, to get us started, I have:

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[b]XXII. ?graveyards made of the bone white afternoon?[/b]


[i]Starfleet Academy, Earth
Stardate: 2257.301[/i]


There were few things that Nyota Uhura struggled with when she set her mind to them.

She knew this ? had always known this. It was that knowing that had gotten her as far as she had - was what had placed her within Starfleet's scarlet fleet of cadets; settled her within the matrices of [i]best[/i] and [i]gifted[/i]. She knew this, but the syllables stretching and morphing upon her tongue were nothing as to compare with the feeling of cool metal in her hand. Steel ? more elegant than the days of crude blades and bullets, but still an agent meant to wreck and tear asunder.

Her focus was the study of languages ? words and syllables and sounds, but every cadet enrolled in the Academy had to master the basics of self defense as well. It was a necessity ? a painful one at times, but a caution that could save more lives than it could take. While Starfleet was for peace keeping and defense, all too often that peace came from the blade's edge of violence, and so while not every officer trained was trained for the battle lines, they were trained to hold their own for the if and when the time would come for a call to arms.

For now, she stared at the phaser in her hands as if it were a serpent ? with fangs to offer instead of a cool grip, uneasily comfortable against her fingers. Her hands were free of calluses ? of blood - and she was unsettled with the thought of battles yet to be fought and stories yet to be told.

To pass the defense and combat courses, one had to disassemble and reassemble a phaser in thirty seconds or less. Most of the students mastered the skill relatively easily, for the weapon was an elegant and simple design. Aiming came after that ? more slowly than assembly at times, and stun bolts were known to be passed between the cadets on more than one occasion ? she herself was not completely ignorant of the ignoble sting ? or Kirk's laughter when it fell so upon her.

Her turn with the combat instructors was for the day following, and while it was a test she believed herself able to pass, it was still one she dreaded.

Before her on the table, the phaser sat, a weight against your PADDs full of awaiting translations. She was in Spock's office for the evening ? as was her habit as his TA and the just blossoming relationship that they both were starting upon. With the fledging bond between their minds, he picked up upon her concerns for the day following all too easily.

?You are anxious,? he stated the fact, his brow raising as if in curiosity at feeling the emotion from her.

?Just a little,? she admitted, her smile a slant against her mouth.

?Your exam with Commander Dawes is tomorrow, correct?? Spock inquired, and received a nod from her for his perceptions. ?And it is a skill you have mastered??

Nyota frowned. ?I can assemble and disassemble it well enough ? its just not something that comes easily to me. And I have trouble making the time.?

Thoughtful, Spock crossed from around the desk towards her, picking up the phaser between them with an easy grasp. The weapon sat lightly in his hand, the steel of it a dark slant before the pale and long lines of his fingers. Her eyes slipped over the sight, curious as he ran his opposite forefinger over the barrel of the weapon ? the barest of caresses.

?What about this challenges you?? he questioned.

She bit your lip. ?I do not like the idea of having to utilize this skill. My hands trip over each other too much whenever I try to make the time.?

?You are over thinking it,? Spock stated, a gentle rebuke deep in the easy tone of his voice, hardly able to be heard.

But the syllables caught at her.

?Here, like this,? he instructed, coming over to shadow he