Story [Star Trek 2009] "What a Lovely Way to Burn" Spock/Nyota - COMPLETE with Author's Note!

?What a Lovely Way to Burn?

Genre: General, Romance
Rating: PG
Time Frame: Post STXI
Characters: N. Uhura, Spock

Summary: ?For a genius, he can be remarkably daft at times.? Spock, Nyota, and the progression of a relationship

Notes: This is something that I have been working on for a few months now, and yesterday's release of the film made me get my butt in gear and start posting.

This is a collection of linear vignettes that progress through the the first year of the Enterprise's five year mission, all exploring Spock and Nyota's relationship. The majority of these will be light, and either humorous or lightly romantic in nature. Drama for drama's sake, and outright angst will be posted elsewhere, for those of you who like that sort of thing. You know who you are.

And as always, a huge nod of thanks goes to Jade_eyes - my beta reader, and the most accomplished shipper of my acquaintance. This beast would not live without you, hon!

Now that my rambling is complete . . .

Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me. I am simply dabbling in their universe.

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[b].[/b]

[u][b]Part I.[/b] [i](A Year Marks the Day)[/i][/u]

[b].[/b]


It was remarkably quiet on the bridge.

They were between planets in a far out quadrant of known space. All around them stretched nothing, while the mass of far out stars formed a kaleidoscope of silver light on black as the ship traveled lazily at a low Warp. Between the patterns of starlight, swirling shades of nebula gas lingered ? and they were about all that was available to look at. Even the comm lanes were silent this far out, minus the occasional transmission from a deep space trader or the occasional moon miner.

By all means, it should have been a peaceful scene, and yet, she was inexplicably jittery.

Her fingers tapped at her console, playing out a flustered little cadence, while her left leg was bouncing up and down from where she had crossed it over her right - hardly noticeable, she hoped; but it was unusually out of place to anyone who knew her. Her job, usually so calming, was not doing anything to help assuage her nervousness.

The Captain, from where he was playing with an old world yo-yo, and doing his best to try to talk his First Officer into playing a game of 'I Spy', noticed.

Of course he noticed.

His voice abruptly hit her, switching mid-sentence from where he was discussing the logicality of [i]?such a triviality of a pointless exercise?[/i] with Spock, to addressing her.

?So, Nyota.?

There was a smile in his voice as he said her name.

She rolled her eyes, unseen by him, and vehemently wished that he would go back to his bickering/bantering session, and leave her in peace. ?Yes, Captain??

?You seem a bit flustered.?

She willed her body into a state of calmness as she swiveled around in her chair. Raising a brow at the smirking man, she said, ?I have no idea what you are referring to, sir.?

?Sure you don't,? Kirk agreed. ?And yet, I am sure that I have detected no fewer than five sighs in the last three minutes. And . . . are you actually bouncing, Lieutenant??

She glared at him. "I was neither bouncing, nor sighing, Captain.?

Kirk glanced over to Spock, who was watching their interaction with a politely interested gaze. ?C'mon and back me up on this ? she was, wasn't she??

Spock tilted his head, and then looked over at her. There was a very faint glimmer of concern in his mind, brushing past hers, and she tried her best to project as much calm and contentment as she could.

No use.

?All factors would point to a heightened level of stress,? Spock honestly, and carefully spoke.

?See,? Kirk said triumphantly, like a child whose parent had just intervened on their behalf. ?You can't argue with that man's logic.?

The look she gave him could have made a Klingon wither.

Kirk backpedaled. ?I'm not saying that it's a bad thing. I'm just trying to look out for my crew, here.?

Another stare. ?Thank-you for your c

 

You guys are the best! Thanks so much for leaving your thoughts!!


Jade_eyes: Your enthusiasm for writing makes it impossible not to catch on to! And I am 19 and fangirling, so I completely understand! Surely . . . perfection, definied!

NYCitygurl: Thanks for dropping in and leaving your thoughts as well!

Ceillean: A new face! Welcome! All of the passages you mentioned are favorites of mine as well, you show exceedingly fine taste. Kirk is a great character, isn't he? PMs are for sure!


~MJ

 

I have some more here, already. Once again, a huuuuuge thanks goes to Jade_eyes for tweaking this into something posting-friendly.

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[u][b]Part II[/b]: "My Sympathies to the Goldfish"[/u]

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During her time at the Academy, Nyota had not once thought to appreciate the sea of students surrounding her. There was always an anonymity to be found when sought; something cold and almost impersonal about being one face amongst the masses. In terms of talent and determination, it was something she had always fought to rise above. And yet, in the case of her personal life, it was something that she didn't realize that she used to further her intensely private personality.

Now, after almost two months as one of the [i]Enterprise's[/i] senior officers, she had little to no anonymity to hide behind. Which was . . . odd.

Back at the Academy, her relationship with Spock had been an intensely private thing ? clandestine, almost ? a secret known only by a select few senior officers (like Pike) and also Gaila (who was too smart for her own good about some things). Her own family had not even been privy to the information, such was the discretion they were implementting.

And now . . . nothing was sacred. Everyone knew. [i]Everyone.[/i]

At first, others having knowledge of her affairs had been confusing. She and Spock had never been nothing more than professional in public, and never had they given anyone cause for suspicion . . . Well, except for that kiss in the transporter room, but only Kirk had seen that. Kirk and Scotty. Kirk, she knew, would keep his mouth shut. After all, while the man was an overgrown child and all-around flirt, he knew where the lines were drawn . . . most of the time, anyway. At the time, she had not even thought to worry about Scotty. [i]Scotty[/i]. Who, apparently, could gossip like a Cambrian schoolgirl.

Unknown to her, the whole of the ship knew about her relationship with Spock within two days after the Enterprise leaving Earth. Apparently, news of that nature ? usually of the sort to fizzle and fade due to lack of interest within days - was expounded and drawn out by the parties in question. And really . . . were they that shocking? Apparently, she had developed somewhat of a reputation of being untouchable, and Spock was . . . well, Spock.

She had had the first inkling of her secret's unveiling by little things. There had been an odd look here and there ? a female ensign who sighed rather dreamily upon passing her (the sort of sigh that simpering girls may utter at the end of a romance novel) and a curious look from a member of the security squad whom she had turned down in second year . . . And then there was the odd sort of glances that she received in the halls that passed between her and Spock and back again.

Between her and Spock . . .

Absolute confirmation had came when she had sat down with him in the mess hall after one shift, not even a week after leaving Earth. Spock had been shuffling with an odd sort of restlessness. The back of her mind held a strange sort of thoughtfulness that she knew to consume his mind at times. She had been content to wait him out, sure that he would speak his mind in time.

Sure enough, he did.

?I had a fascinating conversation with Lt. Richardson,? he started out carefully.

?What about?? she prompted carefully. She knew the up and coming science officer in question.

There was just a second's hesitation that normally would have been absent. ?He stopped me today to offer his congratulations.?

She raised a brow. ?What for??

There was a slight narrowing of his eyes as he ended whatever mental war he had been waging. ?He had congratulated me on our relationship. Apparently, you were somewhat of a 'tricky catch' back at the Academy, and he saw fit to offer his . . . admiration.?

Nyota nearly choked on the tea she was sipping. ?He what?!? Her voice rang higher than it normally would, drawing attention to their table. Just then, she noticed that there had already been more than the usual pairs of eye

 

Alrighty, I have another viggie for you.

Replies first:

Jade_eyes: Good grief dear, but you know how to spoil with your thoughts. The whole way through I was just grinning wider and wider . . . Sheesh, but you fuel the shipper in me, you know?

She introduced new levels of overt intimacy and he took to them like a duck to water. I would too with a lady like her. She feels like home, a harbor. Sweet. Delicious.

Amen! Amen! Ameeeen! And squiggles x 1000!!!

Have three Squees! Mira, i'm gonna miss these when they're done, so the solution to that is they never end!!!

I think I can live with that.


Ceillean: Another great response. Really, I just can't stop smiling here!

This is good. I've been trying to find something to write about Kirk. I think Kirk and McCoy out having fun is a great way to start.

They're awesome, aren't they?! I don't know if this is shameless self promoting, or note, but I wrote a vig with the whole premise called Wingman. If you wanted to check it out. There's certainly a laugh or two involved.
Ashal-veh meaning I love you, I take it? It sounds beautiful.

The VLD translated it to something like 'my beloved' or 'dear one'. So, yeah, Vulcan for 'I love you.'

Thanks so much for reading! Your thoughts really mean a lot!!


~MJ

 

Author's Note: Some more fluff here. The next few will have a little more(lots more) in the term of plot. For now, it cannot be helped . . . I'm sure you won't mind too much, though.

As always, a big old thanks to Jade_eyes. This would not live without you.

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[u][b]III:[/b] ?In all These My Memories are Kept Alive? [/u]

He remembers that day with a clarity that he had initially found curious.

It had been a day the last year prior, during their time back at the Academy, on the last Sunday of the winter relief from classes. It had been on a crisp morning when Nyota had just returned from a week spent in Nairobi, where she had been visiting the family that she had not seen since the summer.

She had been fluttering around her half of the dorm room, muttering muffled complaints about the thin layer of frost that coated the Bay area in the small hours of the morning. While it would be gone by noon ? the very worst of the Californian winter, that didn't stop the fact that she was freezing [i]now[/i], and quite vexed about the fact that the rest of the planet didn't hold the rather warm temperatures of the native home she had just returned from.

He had let her rant without commenting. He didn't even move to change the climate controls to something more comfortable for her; somewhat content in the moment to watch her with a greediness that he found surprising. They had only spent a week apart, and yet it pushed at something inside him that went human and deep. While the sensation was curious, he found that he did not care for it, at all.

And if the way her eyes continually flickered to find his spoke of her own feelings, he knew that she missed him as well.

It was oddly . . . satisfying.

Uhura's search for a more comfortable sweater had led her through this and that ? unopened boxes of possessions from her days before the academy, and a box with a stringy bit of oddly cut animal printed material that had Nyota flushing a dark shade of scarlet as she muttered ?Gaila? under her breath like a curse.

He found it wise not to ask at times.

Her hunting through the closet led to her bringing out something that she had never intended for him to see. He had been aware of something initially being wrong when she drew up short, her good natured tirade of words cut off by the quick intake of a sharply drawn gasp. He had looked past her, to the floor of the closet, and yet he could not find the reason for her silence, nor the reason for the flood of feelings he felt when he pressed his hand against hers and muttered, ?Nyota, what is it??

She looked over at him with a small smile, her eyes turning slightly misty with an emotion that he could not quite read, even after all of his time spent on Earth.

?It's just something silly,? she muttered.

He tilted his head, drawing a wider smile from her as she patted his hand. ?I'm sorry - I'm going all human on you.?

He still didn't understand her reaction. ?What is it that drew this reaction?? he asked.

With a small, secret sort of look, she moved to draw out a box from the corner of the closet. ?I have to hide this from Gaila,? she explained the precarious placement. ?She would never let me hear the end of it.?

If anything, he was even more confused ? another sensation that he didn't much care for.

After fighting a bit around various items ? a strange combination of meticulous order and chaotic clutter, she came out holding a wooden chest with bold earthen red stains in ornate patterns. The wood was meticulously crafted, with fine patterns engraved into the side, giving it a dated, ancient sort of feel.

?The box itself was a gift from my father,? she explained, all the while holding the chest to her with a reverent sort of look about her eyes ? a look he was quickly learning was only trained on selected things like cheesecake or a rather excellently scored essay. (If he were honest with himself, he knew that he had been on the receiving end of those looks more and more often as of late.)

?This,? she continu

 

Thanks to everyone who took the time to leave their thoughts! You are the best!

Ceillean: A late night reader, cookies and coffee for you! Those are always the best. And I'm glad that you enjoyed it! For me, this chapter was pushing the boundaries of mush and ICness.

Jade_eyes: A cheesecake squggles for you comments! They always give me such a smile. And I know! He draws!!! *picks self off floor As always, thanks for helping so much with these!


NYCitygurl: Thanks so much!


~MJ

 

Author's Note: This one got away from me in terms of word count. (Try over 10,000 words! Yikes.) So, it will be posted in two parts. Enjoy! And, as always, a big ol' thanks to Jade_eyes for her splendid beta reading work!

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[u][b]?Those Left Behind While Waiting? [/u][/b]

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[i][b]Part One:[/b] ?In These Same Stars Written, Once Again? [/i]

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The [i]Enterprise[/i] breaks from a routine check-in at Starbase 87 in order to transport a few very high ranking diplomats to the new Vulcan colony. The diplomats in question were carrying with them highly priceless artifacts that were now made so much more so due to the destruction of all that the planet had held valuable before.

She knew, upon reflection, that it must have been odd for such a race always obsessed with the illogicality of things to also be consumed with the sentimentality as well ? no matter how many ways they may have tried to voice it in justified ways. She sees the way the ambassador's poured over the ancient things ? saw the way that Spock watched them from the corner of his eyes, intrigued, but determined not to be. There is a reverence there, speaking to a similarity between their two species that she knew that they would never acknowledge.

It made it intriguing to watch, nonetheless.

She asks him if he is curious about visiting the colony, and receives only a shrug from him. ?It is not Vulcan,? is all that he mutters, and the weight in those simple words was enough for her to reach out to take his hands in an open support.

He squeezes her hands in return once, before dropping them to return to his duties.

She watches him extra close for the remainder of the journey, feeling his unease at the back of her mind as if it were her own. If he noticed her concern, he said naught to it, and over time the unease faded. She wanted to glare at him for the shielding, however unintentional it was. Throughout the day, her more acute annoyance was swept aside in the duties that required her undivided attention.

They ended up reaching Vulcan in the early evening. A small group of them ? Spock, the Captain, the Ambassador's, and her ? beamed down to the planet's surface with the the artifacts in question.

Her first impression of the planet as they moved outside of the capitol's main compound was hot.

While Vulcan had been all hourglass sands and sweeping tones of red and gold over the harsh yellow sunlight from above, this new planet was just . . . rough. There was a bite to the wind that carried dust and ash on it, chaffing at her skin and swirling with her breath at the back of her throat. The air was incredibly stifling in a way that did not cater well to a human's preference of temperature.

She wonders if the choice was pointed.

The eve threw the atmosphere into plays of deep violet upon burning red, reminding her of the beauty to be found in discordant things once again.

?Cozy,? Kirk's muttered appraisal hit her ears a moment later. There was a lack of fondness to his tone that she easily picked up on. When she turned to look at him, he was smiling crookedly at her.

?The planet is almost ten degrees warmer than Vulcan had held in the evening hours. At high noon, the difference can be as much as twenty,? Spock said softly, his tone once again the dedicated thing that she had become accustomed to through their few missions to date.

?That explains a bit,? Kirk said, wiping at the sweat on his brow.

Spock's eyes were narrowed as he inhaled deeply. He frowned. ?There is a higher oxygen content in the atmosphere as well, I believe.? He turned to the aide walking ahead of them for confirmation.

?That is correct,? was the clipped reply.

Kirk frowned. ?You know, this old home of yours is sounding more and more inviting by the moment,? he quipped dryly.

The soft statement was the closest that the Captain would ever get to teasing about the loss of Vulcan. Spock took it in stride, a brow raising in a way that it only managed to around Kirk. ?Indeed,

 

LOL!!! I know how much you love this one.

And yep, my timeline is all . . . different now. Call it the muse's inability to just let something be. I have oddles plotted, and some more that you haven't read. I'd like to get more to you tomorrow seeing how things go . . .

SQUEE!!




~MJ

 

Alrighty, here's the next part. As always, a huuuuuuuge thanks goes to Jade_eyes for looking this over.

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[b]V.[/b] [i]?Those Left Behind While Waiting? [/i]

[b]Part Two[/b]: ?Written in a Different Set of Stars?



After a few hours on the new Colony, his reactions to it could only be described as unsettling.

[i]Unsettling[/i] could be the only way to describe the air ? richer than his childhood home, but harsh with so many foreign things. [i]Unsettling[/i] could be described as the promise of storms on the next day in the violent set of the setting sun against the sky. [i]Unsettling[/i] was the only way to put the sight of the elders ? veritable legends in his then young eyes engaging in evening meditation under rebuilt walls with stone that was so different from the k'lar masses at home, no matter how much they were glamored to look the same . . .

During the first meeting he had centered himself with the logic of answering the questions of those gathered. The imparting of information was something simple that kept his mind occupied, and his eyes on the face of the person he was addressing rather than the unfamiliar terrain beyond the windows. When Kirk stepped up to explain Starfleet's official stand on things, he had relinquished the floor, a part of him steeped in an almost-pride for the Captain Jim was making.

When Nyota had come to stay by his side, he had been grateful for her calming presence. The soft line that connected him to her conveyed his thanks, and a moment later he could feel the brush of her hand against his as she shifted her weight ever so slightly. It was an exchange that went unnoticed by the majority of the group, except by his father, who had taken notice with an uncharacteristic question in his eyes. A moment later, he could feel his father's presence at the connection they still shared, and he only moved to break it off when he probed curiously at the burgeoning bond that he had with Nyota.

Sarek's eyes flashed sharply to him at that ? whether in acknowledgment of his son's mental control, or the previously unmentioned bond, he was not sure.

The next thought he felt clearly was that there would be words about that later. When Spock looked over to catch his father's gaze, Sarek was already engrossed in the conversation at hand again. Shaking his head, Spock ruefully thought that there was no one quite like one's father who had the ability to make you feel as if you were five years old again.

Apparently, he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, so to speak.

At his side, Sarek's notice had not gone unobserved by Nyota, who had an uncharacteristic pale set to the warm glow of her skin. He frowned mentally at it, wondering just where her mind had gone to produce that response. With an internal sigh, he pressed as much contentment and peace as he could towards her, even though she seemed to absorb but little of it.

She said little more through the proceedings, and looked to be every bit grateful when their guide came to show them to their quarters for the evening. Spock was not surprised when Jim and she were lead to the guest quarters and he was lead to the family suites. He clasped Nyota's hand once with a promise before leaving her, aware of her continuing unease, and even more acutely aware of Jim's insinuating teasing with her. Ah, so the Captain had picked up on her uneasy mood, as well.

Upon reaching his room, he sat wearily on the edge of the bed, the scent of incense on the night air swirling through his senses, threatening to make him nauseous. He sat there, one hand propped up his forehead, until he could feel Nyota drift off to sleep.

Once being certain that she was well for the night, he slipped out, and made his way to his father's small apartment. Upon announcing himself, Sarek greeted him, looking none too surprised at his visit. ?I was curious as to how long it would take you.?

?The hour is not too late?? Spock inquired, his head titled to acknowledge the dusky fall of night beyond.

Sa

 

It's time to get this ball rolling again.

Jade_eyes: I can't agree with you more there! And yep, this one will get a few quick updates to make up for the lack of.

Ceillean: Wow! I think that that's one of the biggest compliments I've been given as an author! Thanks, and I'm happy to inspire anytime! And Kirk is a blast, I know. You should like him in the next one.

~MJ

 

VI: ?By all means Envious?



They are four months into their five-year mission when Nyota hits a mountain in a previous bump of a problem. Her problem was just over five feet tall, with the clichéd blue eyes that sparkled more than she was sure was healthy (she was a nurse, shouldn't she have these things checked out?), with curling blonde hair that didn't seem to want to stay in the required bun that Starfleet commanded. Her problem wore a uniform that didn't seem to be regulation on a body that didn't seem to be natural, who had one of those beautifully light voices that coincided with one of unerringly good taste in shoes that normally would have commanded an instant and easy kindred spirit.

The taste in shoes was her saving grace. Under normal circumstances, she probably would have enjoyed Christine Chapel's company. The woman was beautiful, sure, but so were many women. Hers was a beauty that she didn't flaunt and was made more striking by the way she fingered the ring hanging on a silver chain around her neck when she thought no one was looking. She was intelligent, and kind ? making up for the stereotypes about blondes and nurses that so often went hand in hand . . . Yes, she could get along with Christine Chapel very well.

And at first, they had. While she had seen Christine around campus ? they shared a class that basically boiled down to reading alien body language, a talent that came in handy amongst both the translator and the medical assistant alike ? she had not really talked to the woman until being stationed to the Enterprise. After Nero's destruction, Spock had been checked over by McCoy, along with Kirk, and she had listened to the three-way bantering with every light amusement. At her side, also observing, was Christine, and the two had gotten along wonderfully. The fading adrenaline had them both in very pleasant moods, and the trio before them had added to the light atmosphere between them.
Even in her good mood, Nyota had noticed the way Christine's eyes had lingered on Spock. They were small glances, but they lingered. Nyota was used to her fair share of stares while with him ? he was the only Vulcan enlisted in Starfleet, after all, and there were rumors enough to cause many an eye to turn whenever he appeared, plus, he was not. . . unappealing to look at! But this was different. This was interested.

She didn't care for it then. Not one bit.

When Christine softly stopped Spock on his way out and offered her condolences for his losses, Nyota had to physically keep her hands by her sides. The exchange was innocent ? Christine didn't touch him out of respect, and Spock would never have even thought to interpret the way her large eyes were turned up at him as anything other than sympathetic. But she knew better.

She also knew, that to all intents and purposes, no one knew about her and Spock. That . . . complicated things.

When a few choice Andorian curses were mumbled under her breath, Kirk had looked over at her in confusion. When he followed her simmering gaze over to its source, he had immediately broken into a large grin. ?Well, check that out,? Kirk had drawled, coming over to rest a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened at the contact. ?The nurse is making her rounds.?

She pointedly slipped out from under his touch. ?And that's all she's doing,? she said somewhat stiffly. While she had grown from exasperated annoyance with Jim Kirk to somewhat begrudging respect in the space of not even ten hours, that did not mean she was anywhere near ready to joke with him about something like this.

Kirk had chuckled. ?Well, if you need help dealing with that particular problem, let me know,? his eyes lingered appreciatively on Christine, she had rolled her eyes.

?Please,? she muttered. ?Like I'd put the poor thing through that.?

She didn't have it out for the nurse that much.

Kirk put a hand over his heart. ?You wound me with your low opinion, Lieutenant.? He widened his eyes, giving an altogether perfect picture of perfect innocence .