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Title: Someday, and the Rest of Your Life
Paring: Spock/Uhura
Summary: When the Enterprise receives a distress call from a Vulcan rescue vessel, Spock finds himself confronted by his past, and he must choose whether to uphold Vulcan traditions or find his own way.
A/N: Thanks to [personal profile] ida_pea for betaing this chapter for me.
Rating: NC-17

Previous chapters can be found here.

The girl sat, a service robot at her feet, and a control panel in her hands. She looked up at him. “Father, I can not seem to fine tune the robot’s controls. I wish to use it to plant seeds in the hydroponic garden, but it always uses too much force, and crushes the seeds.”

He sat down next to her, and picked up the robot, examining the servos in it’s arms.

“Here is your problem,” he told her. “The gears are too small. Remember the size of the gear is relative to the force created.” He showed her the relevant equation on her PADD. “There, when you have found the answer, come to me, and we shall have an appropriately sized gear made.”

Spock let the image vanish. It had brought with it an important realization. He did not want children simply to aid his race, but for their own sake. With so much lost he wanted the comfort and safety of a family of his own. And yet a union with T’Pring seemed to preclude the possibility of a true mating. He did not think she would ever want to share with him, or be part of his life as a true partner. Marriage to T’Pring might be a very lonely proposition.

His mind turned back to Nyota, whom he knew he could have such intimacy with. Although there might be complications, there was no reason to think they could not have children. They would be of course, mostly human. And although Vulcan logic was learned, not inherited, it seemed unlikely that bringing up a child within the predominantly human Starfleet, Spock could raise a child with a true understanding of Vulcan logic.

Again he imagined what such a potential child might be like. She had dark skin, with only slightly pointed ears. She wore a blue dress with a white apron, and her long dark hair was pulled back by a blue headband.

”Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy” she called to him.

“I am here,” he told her.

She took his hand and lead him to a small table that was set with a plastic tea set. A stuffed white rabbit sat in one of the chairs, and the girl took another.

She lifted the empty tea pot and pretended to fill the cups.

“There is no tea,” he pointed out to her.

“It’s a tea party,” she told him. “Therefore, logically there must be tea.” She smiled in triumph.

“You’re logic is flawed,” he told her. “However, I can accept the potential for tea.” He lifted up one of the small plastic cups and mimed drinking from it.

She smiled and hugged him. “I love you daddy.”

The image faded. It confirmed his supposition that any child of his and Nyota would end up being basically human. Still there was something intriguing about her. It was illogical but he found himself more drawn to the human girl than the vulcan one.

Once again conjured the image of the vulcan girl. Only this time she was nearly fully grown. A young woman finding her place in the world.

”Father,” she asked. “I am considering applying both to the Vulcan Science Academy and Starfleet. Assuming both paths are open to me, I do not know which I should choose.”

He nodded. “It is logical to apply to both, however, I feel sure that either institution would accept you.”

“Then how shall I choose, Father?” she asked.

“I can not tell you how to choose. You must find the decision that is right for you. However, consider, if you join the Academy, you will do great things for our people. But the Academy is not what it once was. So many of the best of us were lost. You will shine there, and be noticed.

“However,” he continued. “If you join Starfleet, you will be competing against not just the best of Vulcan, but of the Federation. You will find that humans especially will take a perverse pleasure in trying to prove you wrong. It will be a constant challenge. And although I am sure you will excel there too, you may find that no matter your achievements, you will be but one brilliant officer among many.”

“Thank you, father,” she told him. “I shall consider what you have said, and let you know my decision.”

She faded, and Spock replaced the vulcan girl with the human one, also nearly grown.

”I can’t believe you,” the girl spoke harshly to him. “Don’t you get it? John and I are in love. School can wait, but if I don’t go with John, I may never see him again.”

“Please, consider that you are risking your future on an emotional response, there is no logic in your decision. You may easily maintain communications with John, even if you are not on the same planet.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?” she yelled at him. “You don’t feel anything, how could you understand?” tears streamed down her face.

He quickly ended the vision. It raised an important point. Human children seemed to have deep emotional needs, how could he meet those needs? It seemed unlikely that he could be a successful parent to a human child.

He turned the question over and over his head, but there were no clear answers. He realized that the difficulty was that he did not have enough data to approach the problem correctly.

He could make no decision on what his future with Nyota might be until he could talk to her, determine if she was willing to try for a future with him. Similarly, before he assumed too much about T’Pring, he should have a real conversation with her. Although the mind meld had told him a great deal about her, it had been too emotionally charged to give him a real sense of her as a Vulcan woman.

When his watch ended, he resolved to speak with her. It was not an entirely pleasant proposition, but it was necessary. Therefore it was illogical to put it off any longer than necessary.

When he entered sick bay he found T’Pring finishing a physical therapy session with one of the doctors. Spock waited patiently until it was done and the doctor had helped her into the chair she would use until she could walk again.

“Spock,” she greeted him.

“T’Pring,” he nodded.

The moved to a quieter corner of the busy sick bay. Spock felt certain that the other injured Vulcan’s would not eavesdrop, he was less sure about the Enterprise’s crew, specifically Dr. McCoy.

He sat down so that he could be at the same level as her. “I have been considering what you said the other day,” he told her.

“And what conclusion have you reached?” she asked calmly.

“None that is definitive. I have no wish to force myself on you, however, in light of recent events I can not help but think you decision is a bit hasty. There are still many years before we are likely to be married. It does not seem logical to make any decision now.”

T’Pring considered for a moment. “And does Nyota agree that the logical course is to wait?”

He was a little surprised by her familiar use of Lt. Uhura’s name, but he reminded himself, she would have learned it from the mind meld.

“Lt. Uhura was injured, and can not yet speak. I have therefore not discussed the matter with her. However, the logic holds.”

“You presume that your Lieutenant operates on logic,” T’Pring countered. “Clearly she does not. It was not logical for her to save me, given the dangers to herself. And even less logical once she knew who I was.”

“And yet she did save you,” Spock pointed out. “Which would seem to indicate that she accepts things for what they are.”

T’Pring raised an eyebrow. Clearly she did not agree. But she did argue the point. “Spock, her level of logic is ultimately of no relevance. What is relevant is that she is your lover. How many of our people, like me, shall never know again their lover’s touch? You however, have not been robed of this opportunity. For what logical reason should you deny yourself of what so many of us may never have?”

Spock considered for a moment, before feeling insulted. “You’re argument is emotional, not logical. Since I believe you to be logical I must assume that you believe I am ruled by my emotions and would fall prey to such a false argument. You are wrong.”

“Am I Spock?” she asked. “You hold yourself responsible for the death of our people. And yet I have witnessed the events as you did. You are wrong. You did all that logic dictated at the time. But since you believe yourself to be a traitor. Be one. Take your human woman. Be what you will be, and allow me to be what I will be.”

Spock nodded, not in agreement, but because he had finally found his decision. “Thank you, T’Pring. You have made it clear that their can be no harmonious union between us. Dissolution of our marriage is the only logical choice.”

Spock rose to leave.

“Spock,” she called. She raised her right hand in the traditional vulcan fair well. “Live long and prosper.”

“T’Pring,” he returned the gesture. “Live long and prosper.”

As Spock left sickbay, he felt relieved. He had at least resolved one of his problems. He considered heading to Nyota’s quarters. Even if they could not yet discuss it’s ramifications, he felt that she should know that he no longer intended to follow through with his marriage to T’Pring.

Just then he heard the familiar whistle of the ship’s com system. “Commander Spock, you have an incoming transmission from Starbase 11. It is from Ambassador Sarek.”


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July 2009


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