Spock donned in his robes, lit his firepot, and slipped into his meditation exercises. This would be the seventh night in a row, the seventh night of his self-imposed exile to come to terms with his time in paradise.

It had not been Leila’s face that had inspired Spock to strike out at Jim, and he was certain they both knew it. Once his spores were gone, they’d worked quietly to create the subsonic transmitter that would eradicate the spores from everyone’s body. Jim had started to suggest beaming Uhura up first to help with the task, but one look from Spock had Kirk trailing into silence and clearing his throat awkwardly. And, if still under the spores effects, Spock probably would’ve laughed when McCoy had signaled up to the Enterprise only to have Leila’s voice sound not thirty point two-seven seconds later.

Can I come aboard? I’ve never seen a starship before, and I want to talk to you.

The conversation in the transporter room had been among the most difficult in his life. As she’d spoken, Spock had recalled the details as if he’d been reliving them again. He could not deny the sensation of sincere regret that had overcome him, even as he’d remained stoic expressively. During their time together, he had not known how to show her…how to accept it. He had not been fair to her, and yet he was grateful he’d had the chance to show her he had, in fact, held high positive regard for her in a way she could understand—even if it had taken alien spores to do it.

He had not missed the way both Kirk and McCoy had stiffened or the soft gasp that had sounded from behind him. It had taken all of Spock’s control not to turn around to her, and he’d quickly excused himself from the captain and McCoy to return to his console. Yet it was the truth. To be free of the never-ending tug-of-war between logic and emotions—to have that decision taken from him and made once and for all…yes, happiness was indeed the word, and he would miss the overwhelming liberty that had come with it.

And as the Enterprise had traveled to Starbase 27, Spock had avoided the colonists and the majority of the crew as much as possible. His meditations had been long and exhausting trying to rein in the emotions the spores had stirred up like a whirlwind. He hadn’t said goodbye to Leila when she left; he knew he could not take the sadness and disappointment in her eyes. Not again. She had been the first person other than his mother to make him even contemplate love, and he had not succeeded then, nor had he succeeded now.

You’re a traitor from a race of traitors, disloyal to the core, rotten like the rest of your sub-human race—and you’ve got the gall to make love to that girl!

Jim had no idea just how on the mark he had been. Until that point, Leila’s image had held fast in his mind; then suddenly, gray eyes had turned brown; blonde hair had turned black; and skin that had once reminded him of pale cream had suddenly invoked dark fudge. And until then, Spock had not realized their relationship had evolved beyond merely friendly even for him. He had, in fact, hugged and even kissed, however platonically perceived, one woman whereas he’d never done so with the other, the other he’d thought himself to love.

Not without the spores.

And beyond that, there was a complication no one, not even Jim or McCoy, knew about—a complication that shouldn’t even be considered so.

Does she know what she’s getting, Spock? A carcass full of memory banks who should be squatting on a mushroom instead of passing himself off as a man. You belong in a circus, Spock, not a starship…

Of course she didn’t know. How could she when he himself didn’t? His own personal purgatory, a conflict that would probably never be resolved. Leila couldn’t handle it and she said she loved him. He was what he was—could she accept that when so many others could not? He remembered her chastising him for lack of concern over a fallen crewmember. Granted, they hadn’t known each other for long then, and she’d even apologized afterwards, after their shift as they’d eaten dinner, but it had served to remind him better to keep his distance. Except, she had a love for music he could appreciate; a sharp mind that could challenge his own in fascinating ways; a competence with her job and skill-set he could not help but admire, especially in one so young. Sometimes he forgot she was the youngest person on the bridge, for she carried herself with a grace and maturity in many ways far beyond her years. But then there were those moments, when she was in the rec room with Rand or Sulu or Riley, where she was playful, exuberant, drawing out a good mood as if she were a star and everyone else was a planet. Even McCoy, with his perpetual surly mood, could always manage a smile whenever he was around her.

How appropriately she had been named.

Spock opened his eyes then, a small revelation realized and his lips curled when the buzzer to his door sounded not a second later. He blew out the fire in the pot and stood to go to the door.

“Enter.”

The captain hovered in the doorway, his usual swagger and confidence nowhere to be seen. Spock raised an eyebrow and clasped his hands behind his back, inclining his head.

“Jim.”

Kirk’s eyes widened, and then his body relaxed. “Spock.”

“Is my presence required?”

“Not required, per se, but definitely desired,” Kirk said, giving into a small smile. “Uhura is performing and I figured I’d…stop by and see if you wanted to listen.”

“Certainly. Give me a moment to change.”

Spock did not wear his Starfleet uniform, but a simple dark-blue Vulcan tunic and black slacks. Kirk quirked an eyebrow at his choice but Spock did not verbally acknowledge it. Catching the clue, Kirk did not speak on their way to the rec room; and by the time they’d arrived, Uhura was already performing.

Per usual, her eyes were closed and her body swayed with the melody she sang and played on the lute. Spock stood still as he watched her though his body was relaxed, almost limber. He felt Kirk’s eyes on him but he did not meet them. Yet when Uhura’s eyes opened, he honed in on them.

Spock was sure only he caught the way her voice quivered and the fact she missed three notes as she strummed, but as with everyone else, those flaws did not matter to him. Though not present for the beginning of the song, he recognized the melody, and he could not help the softening around his eyes and lips as she finished the tune. Uhura did not notice this, however, as she’d closed her eyes again.

Everyone clapped and cheered and she gave a slight bow of her head, her eyes fixed upon Spock. Beside him, Kirk crossed his arms and sighed.

“You two are gonna drive me nuts!”

Spock stopped clapping and put his hands behind his back. “Nuts, Captain?”

“This-this tap-dancing around each other is giving me a headache! If you like the woman—?!”

“She is pleasing to me, Captain, but we are simply friends.”

Kirk gave a skeptical snort. “Bones saved us some seats upfront. Care to join us?”

“I think it best if I stay inconspicuous.”

Kirk outright laughed this time and shook his head. “Inconspicuous my ass…”

She performed for the next half hour, playing songs from Altair VI, Babel, and Tandar Prime, and all in their native languages. Spock could not help but be impressed. He was pleased to witness the results of their transcription lessons. As always a throng of people rushed her to offer their congratulations and praises on a job well done after she finished. Spock sighed when McCoy and Kirk came to him and braced himself for comments.

“Well, well, well, long time no see,” McCoy said with a smirk.

“You saw me this morning when you came up to the bridge, Doctor,” Spock reminded him.

“Oh, that’s not the same. That’s work capacity. This is recreational capacity.”

“You missed me.”

McCoy’s expression twisted into one of distaste. “Not necessarily me—”

“He was very worried, Spock. Had to talk him out of visiting you several times,” Kirk revealed, giving the two men amused glances.

McCoy puffed out his chest. “I’m a doctor! It’s my responsibility to make sure the crew is healthy in body and mind.”

“As you can see, I am well.”

“Humph. I was concerned something in your Vulcan blood didn’t agree with those spores after all—you’re lucky I don’t have my scanner with me right now,” McCoy muttered.

“Extraordinarily.”

He was no longer looking at the other men beside him. Uhura was alone save for Riley and Sulu who were asking her to translate the song from Babel while she packed up her lute. She was chuckling and shaking her head.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Spock said to Kirk and McCoy and made his way to Uhura.

“It misses much of its meaning and texture in English,” Uhura was saying as Spock approached. Riley immediately backed up while Sulu went closer to Uhura and nodded.

“Mr. Spock,” Sulu greeted.

“Mr. Sulu. Mr. Riley. Miss Uhura, a very proficient performance.”

Spock purposefully ignored Riley’s eye roll and instead focused on Uhura’s thanks. “I didn’t know you’d be here, Mr. Spock.”

“The captain retrieved me from my quarters.”

“You didn’t have to come—”

“I did,” Spock said, lowering his voice slightly. He watched her breathe deeply and he bent closer to her. “May I speak with you privately? I have a matter to discuss with you.”

She regarded him for a while, then turned her attention to Riley and Sulu. “May I take a rain check, guys?”

Riley opened his mouth, no doubt to protest, but Sulu clapped his hand over his mouth and nodded. “That’s fine—it’ll give us a chance to figure out that song!” Sulu said, waggling his eyebrows.

Uhura laughed. “Good luck!”

Riley sent her puppy-dog eyes as Sulu dragged him away. Spock sighed and rolled his eyes briefly as he picked up her lute case. “Will your quarters be sufficient, Miss Uhura?”

“Uh, sure,” she said, frowning in confusion. “But if you’d rather a debriefing—”

“It is personal as well as private.”

Uhura’s lips thinned, but she gave a quick nod and led the way. McCoy stopped her before she left, squeezing her biceps as he kissed each of her cheeks. Kirk grasped her hand and kissed her knuckles, giving her a roguish wink. “I particularly liked that ‘Complicated Melody’ song. Did you write that?”

Uhura shook her head and chuckled. “Oh, no, Captain. That song’s been around for centuries.”

“And clearly still applies,” McCoy said, giving Spock a meaningful look.

He arched an eyebrow in return.

Uhura maintained a respectable distance from him as they went to her quarters, a fact that did not sit as well with him as he preferred. He’d grown so used to her casual touches that to be without them was a foreign circumstance. Nevertheless, he maintained the example she set even after entering her quarters. He set the lute down underneath her desk while Uhura sat down in front of her computer, looking at him expectantly.

“My apologies for being so distant,” he said without preamble.

“You don’t have to apologize, Mr. Spock. If anyone needed time to deal with what’d happened with the spores, it’s you.”

The resignation in her tone made him wince internally but he stood straighter. “It forced me to consider matters I had not done so before.”

“You wish to keep our contact strictly professional.”

Spock frowned. “Why would you think that?”

Uhura shrugged and looked at her blank computer screen. “I don’t want to make you miserable, Spock.”

He blinked at her, his frown deepening. “I simply do not understand. Why do you think you make me miserable?”

Uhura let out a puff of air, her eyes overbright. “I certainly don’t make you happy! And I know that’s illogical because you are a Vulcan and you don’t want to feel anything, but I certainly don’t want to make your time worse than—”

“You have been nothing but a beneficial addition to my time, Nyota.”

Her brows furrowed as she gazed at him, her hand clenching atop her desk. “Spock, you broke my heart when you said that had been the first time you’d ever been happy. I just thought, how completely unfair is that?! It was the first time I realized…I don’t understand the full extent of what it means to be Vulcan, even though I try. And I suddenly figured out why I would be filled with so much joy whenever you’d give even a tiny smile, or your eyes would fill with amusement, or you’d participate in trading barbs with Len. You’d give yourself permission to feel a little bit of pleasure.” She shook her head and grinned a little. “You have a wonderful smile and a glorious laugh. I’m glad you got to do both free of guilt for once.”

Spock tucked his hands behind his back and nodded. “Most beneficial.”

Uhura’s smile broadened. “This is the ‘I’m mature’ side of me. Took me a week to get here. Before, I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” It was hard to imagine her as such.

“It’s a human female thing, Spock,” Uhura said, waving away her words. “She got your smile and laugh…among other things…”

“I was under the influence,” Spock reminded her.

“You’re pure self,” Uhura said.

“Yes, but I am not a pure being. Neither is she. Neither are you. She received a false version of me, no matter how ‘pure’ I may have appeared. Who I am before you, right now, is the real me. Do you accept that?”

Uhura sighed and shook her head. “Can you believe I actually prefer it?”

“Yes.”

Uhura laughed, placing her hand on her belly. “If you were anyone else, I’d consider you arrogant!”

“Or Jim.”

Uhura went utterly quiet, and then she burst into laughter more energetic than before. Tears streamed down her face, and Spock could not help but smile.

Fully.

He knew the minute her tears had changed from mirth to something else entirely, but he didn’t pause to consider why he did. He merely went to her, guided her to her feet, then pressed her cheek against his chest. Uhura held his waist tightly and sobbed. They stood there for three point five-eight minutes until she pulled back, careful not to meet his eyes.

Spock grasped her chin so she could. “Do you feel better, Nyota?”

She averted her eyes briefly, sheepishly. “Yes, Spock, thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

“I’ll do my best not to be so emotional in the future.”

“Nyota, that is illogical. You are human.”

“Exactly. I am illogical.”

He smiled again, not as fully as before, but definitely noticeably, and brushed her tears away with a knuckle before putting his hands behind his back once more. “I think, considering you try your best to understand me as Vulcan, and accept me as Vulcan, I should try to understand you as human, and accept you as human.”

“That would make this friendship go a tad smoother, Mr. Spock,” Uhura said with a smirk, crossing her arms at her chest.

An eyebrow arched and his lips settled into a grin. “Indeed it would.”