icemink: (Spock)
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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 [info]ida_pea for betaing this chapter for me.
Rating: NC-17

Previous chapters can be found here.

Nyota’s finger hovered nervously above the button that would announce her presence to Spock. After the trial was over all the officers had to return to their duties. The work of transferring the last of their passengers to Starbase 11 still needed to be completed. That was the thing about a Starship, there was always something that required doing. So there hadn’t been a chance to talk to Spock.

As she stood at his door she reflected how everything had seemed so dark and hopeless before. Nyota didn’t really know what to do now that the future was open to them.

She pressed the button, and Spock’s voice beckoned her inside.

He was sitting at the small room’s table, the Vulcan lyre on his lap as he tuned the instrument. As preoccupied as she had been, she hadn’t realized until then that the instrument hadn’t been present till now.

“Nyota,” he greeted her. It was simple, but it was lacking all of the tension of the last several days, and for that she was grateful.

“Hi,” she said as she sat down across from him. “So. . . we kind of need to talk.”

“I had expected as much,” he nodded, but he didn’t look up from the instrument. In another man she might have taken that as evasion, in Spock, it was probably just multi-tasking.

“I’ve realized something,” she said.

That got his attention and he looked up expectantly.

“With all this talk of marriage and genetics and carrying on the species. I realized. . . I’m not ready for any of that.” She reached out her hand to take his. “When we used to talk about the future back at the Academy, it was always this: the Enterprise, Starfleet, and exploring the galaxy. And the thing is, I’ve just started doing this. I know this isn’t your first starship, but it is mine. And I want time to just get used to being Communications Officer, and being an actual Lieutenant not just a Cadet.”

“That is understandable,” his answer was more enigmatic that she was used to. Or perhaps for once she just couldn’t read him.

“So that’s okay then, we can just be. . . I mean we can take time to figure out what all this means now?”

He carefully set down the lyre and took her hand in both of hers. “You are right, we never considered these things at the Academy. But I have been forced to consider all possibilities these last few days. I have no doubts that my first choice would be to spend my future with you. But I do not require the same certainty from you.”

“Really?” she asked. She wasn’t surprised that he had considered their future together. He had probably thought it logical to ‘examine all possible outcomes,’ or something like that.

He nodded. “There is an old earth saying which I had always thought pessimistic, until now. Que sera sera.”

“Well, good,” she said still feeling strangely nervous, as if somehow this conversation was not going the way it should. “Cause I’m only twenty-three. And-”

He stopped her with a kiss. His thumb stroked her temple. “Believe me,” he told her. “It is fine.”

She nodded slightly then touched her forehead to his, enjoying the moment of just being together.


Spock ran the back of his hand along her back. She was fast asleep. He supposed she was what humans termed ‘emotionally exhausted’. Although how they kept from being in such a state all the time considering how wildly their emotions ran, was beyond Spock.

He couldn’t sleep. He rose from the bed, not wishing to disturb her, and threw on a robe. Now that the immediacy of his predicament had passed, Spock found it was easier to examine the events of the last few days. The conclusions he came to were not comforting.

He now realized that he had started a chain of illogical events that seemed to have infected every Vulcan he came in contact with. Had he only told his father the truth about Nyota, he might have spared them all so much hardship. Had his father not tried to get the other Council members to force the wedding, again so much could have been avoided. Had T’Pau simply acknowledged how firmly against a union with Spock T’Pring was, it could have been stopped. On down the line Spock found failure upon failure, until his father had finally acted to put an end to what had clearly become a ridiculous situation.

It seemed inconceivable that so many of his people’s finest minds could have been so trapped by custom and tradition that they could not see a logical way to satisfy all interested parties.

It would not have happened before the destruction of Vulcan, Spock was sure of that. Yet Vulcan was gone, and where did that leave its people? Sarek had encouraged Spock to feel the anger, the grief of his mother’s death. But who would dare say that to T’Pau, who must have lost children on Vulcan? Who in the universe could understand the grief of his people? And how could a race that refused to acknowledge such pain ever handle it?

These were dangerous thoughts. Thoughts Spock, who had dedicated himself to logic above all else, could not reconcile within himself. Perhaps T’Pring had been right. Perhaps he really was V’tosh ka’tur?

And then Spock found himself sitting at the computer screen in his quarters. Nyota was fast asleep, she would not hear him. He turned on the recorder and began a message that had little hope of ever reaching its intended recipient.

“Sybok, much has happened. You will be glad to know that our father did survive and is as well as one can be. . .”

The End.

A/N: Thanks so much for all the support and comments you guys left me for this story. It really helped keeping me writing. And this isn't quite the end. I'm planning on having a short prequel about both Spock and Nyota's parents soon, plus an actual sequel called The Middle Way.
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July 2009


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