It was Uhura who had given them away.  The lack of softness in her eyes when she’d looked at him had set Spock’s spine straight and his hand gripping the transporter console, barely catching himself from creating dents with his fingers.  This Uhura’s grin held a different kind of challenge, as if to the death, and she shifted her hips from the right to the left as if telling him their latest round had commenced.

However, all of this was subtle, which led Spock to believe this Uhura and that Spock’s relationship was clandestine as well.  His eyebrow rose, which made this Uhura’s eyes glitter, and Spock concluded all versions of Nyota Uhura were aesthetically and indescribably stunning.

“Spock…”

Glancing at this Kirk blankly, he returned his gaze to this Uhura and pressed the com button.

“Security to transporter room.”

Uhura walked out of sickbay with her head held high, strutting down the hall as if on a twentieth-century catwalk.  Eyes followed her as she proceeded to the turbolift, leers that merely garnered a raised eyebrow that would’ve done her Spock justice.

She entered the turbolift and almost broke posture before the doors fully closed when suddenly they opened again.  Her brow and chin rose further.

This Mr. Spock.

He entered with just enough space for the doors to slide closed, then he reached his long-fingered left hand from behind his back and pressed a series of buttons on the panel.  She recognized the emergency stop sequence and it was all Uhura could do to keep her breathing regular and her feet firmly fixed to the floor.

She had to admit this Spock cut quite a dashing figure, his goatee lending him a mysterious yet insidious allure.  His chocolate brown eyes were just as lovely in this universe as in hers, but they were full of suspicion instead of the inquisitiveness she’d come to admire.

“Lieutenant.”

She quirked her arched eyebrow.  “Commander.”

He said nothing further.  Instead, he stalked forward until he entered her personal space.  He stared at her for a few seconds, then his left hand shot out and grabbed her throat, sliding her up the wall until they were eye level.  His right hand remained behind his back.

Uhura would never know how she managed not to yelp in shock, but his hold was less painful than insistent.  He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, but she couldn’t mask an audible reaction when he leaned forward and took her jugular vein between his teeth.

She moaned.

He gentled his teeth yet continued his assault, adding his tongue.  She moaned louder and wrapped trembling legs around his waist, her eyes rolling closed at the very impressive feel of him, wondering if her Spock was identically equipped.  Yet sensation rendered her thoughts incoherent as he licked up the column of her throat until his lips touched hers.

“You are slipping, Lieutenant,” he murmured into her mouth, the hairs of his beard making the muscles around her lips quiver.  “You usually resist gripping your thighs around my waist for two point three-seven regulation minutes.  It merely took you twenty point six regulation seconds this time.”

Going purely on instinct, Uhura tightened her legs and tugged on his lower lip with her teeth.  “The ion storm’s effects…are they a problem for you, Commander?”

This Spock moved even closer, his right hand splaying on her bared belly before sliding upward between her breasts to join his left at her neck.  He squeezed teasingly.  “This change is acceptable, Lieutenant.”

He thrust his tongue inside her mouth, twining around hers with a lazy precision.  Between the heat of his body and the reactions he created, Uhura knew she would combust very soon.  When his tongue stroked the roof of her mouth, she couldn’t help wrapping her arms around his neck and digging her fingernails into his scalp while her body shuddered.  His mouth became surprisingly tender against hers before he spoke again.

“Eleven point two regulation seconds, Lieutenant.”

She didn’t answer, too busy smoothing down his silky black hair underneath her fingertips.

He smirked against her mouth.  “The ion storm’s effects have conversely extended your stamina in…other matters.”

She permitted a grin of her own and nuzzled her cheek against his.  “I trust this is also ‘acceptable’?”

He grasped an earring with his teeth and pulled.  “I am most anxious to study these effects more thoroughly after this shift, Lieutenant.”

Uhura gave a throaty chuckle in reply and he slid her body back down the wall to the floor.  Then, this Spock tucked his right hand at his tailbone and walked backward to the turbolift doors.  His left hand pressed another code on the panel and the lift hummed to life.  The doors slid open behind him and he stepped out while still facing her.

“Lieutenant,” he murmured lowly.

Uhura shifted her weight from one leg to the other and smoothed down her skirt.  “Commander.”

The darkening of his eyes as the turbolift’s doors closed made part of her wish Scotty wouldn’t find out how to get back to their universe until well after this alpha shift was over.

It was only after getting this Uhura alone in the interrogation room that Spock considered his formerly logical choice to be in extreme error.  This Uhura looked like she wanted to consume him, and his body’s involuntary reactions indicated he wasn’t very averse to being consumed.

“Is this a new game?  Complete with new costumes?” she purred, tucking the corner of her upper lip between her teeth.

It was all Spock could do not to fidget.

“Although I don’t necessarily mind the others in the brig, but McCoy could get some of his toys and we’d have a grand old time.”

“I—”

“You usually find watching him play with me…pleasurable…”

Spock blinked, squashing the urge to clear his throat.  “I wish to inquire about your beam up, Miss Uhura.”

She raised her eyebrows and settled back against the chair, her breasts thrust out before her.  Spock had no idea the Starfleet uniform could be more beguiling than her swimsuit, and he foresaw problems with concentration in the near future.

“Miss Uhura?”

He cocked his head to the side and quirked a brow.  “That is your name, is it not?”

She inclined her head.  “That it is, Commander…or should I say ‘Mr. Spock’?”

“Either will suffice,” he insisted, folding his hands on the table.  “Are you well?”

“Beam up was rougher than usual, but I didn’t mind that,” she said with a wicked grin.  “Are you sure you don’t want to get McCoy?  I think he’d love this game too—”

His stomach roiled at the thought.  “You are quite enough.”

Her chuckle was deep and smoky.  “Oh, I know it, honey.  You’ve kept me longer than the others.  I’ve had to make sure I don’t get sick because I know I wouldn’t last long with Chapel ‘tending me’.  She’s still bitter you kicked her to the curb.”

Spock arched an eyebrow.  “She does lack a…certain appeal…”

“I have bigger tits and wield a wicked dagger.”

His mouth stretched slightly.  “Indeed.”

Her dark-brown eyes glittering once more, this Uhura placed her knees atop the table and crawled to him.  Spock remained still as she approached and forced himself not to return her kiss when her soft lips smashed against his.

“I don’t think I like this part of the game,” she complained, moving back only a fraction.

“Explain.”

Pouting, she danced her fingers up his ears until they reached the points.  Spock could not control the dilation of his eyes or the groan from his lips, so when she kissed him again, he returned it just as forcefully.

“That remains the same,” she sang, rising up to replace her fingers with her teeth.  When she tugged he moaned, and the erection he’d been studiously trying to ignore swelled even more.

“Oh, yes, I like this game—”

He gripped her wrists and shoved her backwards hard, using his strength to keep her from hitting the tabletop.  The desire in this Uhura’s eyes was plain and her breasts rose and fell rapidly.

“We’ve never done it in here before.”

Saying nothing, Spock grabbed her ankles and yanked her forward, her legs draped on either side of his hips.  He leaned forward until his mouth was beside her ear.

“And we never will, Miss Uhura,” he intoned, grateful he now had manageable control of his arousal.  He left the table and went to the door, nodding his head back into the room.  “Return her to the brig,” he told the two men posted nearby.

“The brig!” this Uhura cried, the mischievous gleam now gone, replaced with rage.  “Me?!  Again?!”

“Especially you, Miss Uhura,” he said as the security guards took her away.  “Especially you.”

Uhura was relieved McCoy had suggested reviving this Spock, for she didn’t think she could pull off the concern as solely medically oriented.  Watching Kirk smash that ceramic over this Spock’s head had made her heart lurch, especially when this Spock become so still.  It made her wonder how her Spock was faring in their universe and if that Uhura and Kirk had to do something similar.

Somehow she didn’t think that McCoy would try to save her Spock’s life.

Nevertheless, nothing could stop her from brushing this Spock’s shoulder in comfort after he was settled on the biobed, as if her touch could reassure him he would be okay and that this McCoy was a capable physician.  Scotty left to get the transporter room ready but Uhura hung around, vaguely listening to McCoy and the captain arguing whether this Spock’s life was worth saving.

Yes.

Even in this backwards universe, this Spock had a quiet, if misguided, integrity about him, leading Uhura to believe all incarnations of this man would draw her to him.  The fact this Spock embraced his passions more readily than her Spock was merely a compelling idiosyncrasy.

She missed her Spock…

Uhura surreptitiously squeezed this Spock’s hand and caught McCoy’s eyes as Kirk ordered her to the transporter room.

He’ll live, dammit!

She arched an eyebrow telling McCoy she’d hold him to that, understanding they both believed the fate of this Spock directly impacted the fate of theirs.

She grinned as she walked through the corridors, wondering if their Spock would consider the thought “most illogical.”

The deep breath Spock took upon seeing the rightful landing party was quite logical, though wanting to go to Uhura and grasp her face to make sure her eyes were hers was less so.  However, he maintained decorum and welcomed the captain back home, but he could not quell the desire to look at Uhura immediately afterwards, needing exact visual verification the transposition had taken place.

They let the others walk before them, using Uhura’s tricorder as an excuse for their heads to be bent together as they made their way to the debriefing room.

“I cannot recall in my recent memory when I have been so h…”  He frowned, his steps stopping abruptly.

Uhura ceased walking as well and squeezed his elbow.  “I am happy to see you, too, Commander.”

Arching an eyebrow, Spock took her chin gently in his hands, grazing his thumb against the corner of her upper lip.  The desire nudging beside the soft gleam in her eyes set his equilibrium back to normal.

Dropping his hand slowly so his fingers teased Uhura’s cheek and jaw, Spock stood straight with his hands clasped behind his back and they continued walking close together.  He sensed the slight tremor of her body, which curiously increased when they passed the turbolift.

However, a corner of his mouth did relax upon going by the interrogation room.  “Indeed, Miss Uhura, indeed.”