Spock didn’t necessarily look at Uhura in a new light; it was merely one that was brighter, more illuminating, than previously. Of course, it was not the most logical thought to ever cross his mind as he knew the Enterprise hadn’t increased its luminosity after they had decided to embark on an even more friendly relationship. Nevertheless, it appeared that way.

It also wasn’t as if much had drastically altered between them. They were still very professional on the bridge, not that he’d expected anything less. He still had frequent chess games with the captain and occasional kal-toh games with the CMO. Uhura still played cards in the rec room with Sulu and Chekov and took time to chat with Chapel. It was when they were alone that circumstances changed in tenor, one that he was still parsing out as he strove to have his first realized and fully fledged relationship with anyone, let alone a human woman. He also knew Uhura was as well, because, ironically, she touched him less now than she’d ever done before this evolution in their association with one another.

More often than not, he’d come to her room. This was mainly because her quarters were larger, but also because he wanted her as comfortable as possible. He’d had more interactions with humans than she’d had with Vulcans, after all, so she needed to be in as familiar territory as possible. Besides, most of the time they were having music lessons and not even exploring the facets of a romantic relationship at all.

But not tonight.

He would admit to himself surprise that he was the one forcing this matter; but at the core of him, he thought it illogical not to experience all of the benefits of the enhanced connection between them. Vulcan or not, there was no denying his body’s responses when Uhura smiled at him or looked at him with tender eyes. His already rapid heartbeat would accelerate even more; his palms would get slightly sweaty; his pupils would dilate. And if she ever decided to add some heat to her stare, he wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to avoid an erection.

When Uhura granted him entrance that night, she was already tuning her lute, not even looking at the door. Spock regarded her sight unseen, watching her graceful fingers manipulate the dials to get the pitch as perfect as her human ear would allow, humming the notes to make sure she would be closer to target. Her posture was straight and yet more sensual than it had a right to be, not forced but so completely innate with her. It was no wonder most of the males and many of the females would do double- and sometimes triple-takes when Uhura walked through the ship’s corridors. In fact, when Mr. Chekov had first come aboard, he’d stared at Uhura going in the opposite direction for so long he’d walked straight into a bulkhead.

Uhura looked up then from tuning and frowned when she saw he was empty handed. “Tonight is lessons night, right?”

He nodded. “Forgive me, Nyota, but I wish to do something else instead.”

She sat even straighter and blinked at him confusedly. “Okay? Want to review data tapes on Vulcan compositions or—?”

“It has nothing to do with music and everything to do with us.”

Her eyes dropped to her lute. She grasped the instrument tightly, and she gave a quick nod and put the lute in the stand. “I see.”

By the tone of her voice and the fact she wouldn’t look at him, Spock knew otherwise. “Nyota—”

“You wish to end this.”

Spock’s shoulders relaxed heavily and he removed his hands from behind his back to hang at his sides. His gait was easy as he walked to her couch and sat fluidly beside her. She still wouldn’t look at him, so he had to grasp her chin in his hand and guide her face to his.

“If anything, I would suspect you wished to end this level of our relationship with me.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “Spock?”

He shrugged, his thumb grazing her full bottom lip. “You treat me as a colleague. I daresay you are more affectionate with Dr. McCoy than you ever are with me.”

Guilt and shame entered her eyes and she averted her gaze. “I’m sorry, Spock, I guess I don’t touch you because I don’t know how welcome it is.”

“Very welcome, Nyota,” he assured her. “I would venture to say it always has been.” Indeed, even at the beginning of their working together, she’d always been a casual toucher with him, and he’d never flinched away from her. He’d remembered being confused about it, then rationalizing it away as the human’s need for contact. But a female yeoman he’d known for much longer had patted his shoulder once and he’d mentally recoiled. Her touch hadn’t been any more obtrusive than Uhura’s.

Her smile was self-conscious. “If I start, I might not be able to stop.”

His thumb moved from her mouth to her jaw. “And I am doubtful that would displease me very much.”

Her smile turned even more bashful, which Spock found most conflictingly endearing. Shy was not a term he’d usually associate with the chief communications officer, and yet her movements were hesitant and unsure as she reached up her hand to cover his at her face. Her fingers intertwined with his, and the cool sensation of her flesh had Spock’s eyes fluttering in reaction.

“I love your hands, Spock,” she said, turning her face to kiss the upper palm of it. “Your fingers are so elegant and you never apply more pressure than necessary.”

“I have to be mindful of my strength,” he said quietly, hoping she couldn’t detect his voice’s rasp. “As for my fingers, on its mere aesthetic level, I have little to do with that.”

She grinned against his hand and laughed. “You can be humble and arrogant at the same time. Maybe that will annoy me later on; but right now, it’s so cute.”

Spock shifted closer. “Cute?”

“Oh, honey, you are, and adorable, and sexy as hell and mysterious. You know, Christine’s not the only one with a massive crush on you.”

“The others do not matter.”

Uhura’s eyes widened and she gasped. “Oh, my…”

His hand, with hers still atop it, moved up and splayed against her cheek. “I wish to kiss you, Nyota. May I?”

Nuzzling her cheek against his hand, Uhura closed her eyes and nodded. “Please.”

Spock breathed deeply, his eyes dancing along her face as if he didn’t know where he wanted to taste first. Ultimately, he decided on her forehead, his other hand brushing up her bangs so his lips could graze the skin there. Uhura squeezed his fingers in reaction and let out a soft sigh.

After almost kissing every inch of skin on her forehead, he moved his lips down the bridge of her nose to the tip of it, then allowed his own nose to drift against hers. He felt the puffs of her breath against his chin, and his lips quivered in anticipation.

“I will finally know the taste and shape of your mouth,” he said quietly, just before joining his with hers. She sighed into the kiss, pressing her lips against his. This was different from his most recent experience, and infinitely more preferable. He knew by human standards this would be a chaste kiss, but his heart rate had doubled in speed and it took all his efforts to keep his mental shields up so not to overwhelm her.

She pulled back, one of her hands still around his while the other was balled up into a fist in her lap. “Was that all right?”

Instead of answering her, he guided his lips to her right cheek, dotting the swath of skin with kiss after kiss. He let his mouth glance the corner of hers before traveling to the underside of her jaw and the column of her neck. He felt her life force surge underneath the skin and hummed, vowing to himself to make sure it would surge for decades to come. Her breath was chilly and hurried against the tip of his ear and he shuddered.

“Spock…”

The roughness of her voice made him grasp her neck with his teeth to muffle his responding groan. Uhura let out a choked exclamation and bucked against him.

“Oh, Spock!”

He was hard now. The feel of her cool, curvaceous body and the sound of her dulcet voice cloaked in passion was his undoing. Never removing his mouth from her neck, he replaced his hand from her cheek to her waist and brought its twin to the other side so he could draw her into his lap. He ground her against his thickened length, his eyes dilating even further when she threw her head back and groaned. The smell of her release permeated the air, and her body’s temperature rose significantly.

“Never in my life have I seen a creature as lovely as you,” Spock whispered against her collarbone, unable to keep that truth for her.

“You’re the beautiful one,” she said in reply, no longer timid about touching him. She wrapped her arms around his strong neck and let her fingers slide into his hair at the back of his head. His moan made her skin quiver, and his tongue soaked up its vibrations.

“Nyota…” One hand traveled up her back in a wide sweep. Her body shook against his, her fingers tangling almost uncomfortably in the short tendrils of his hair. Her hips were not still, so Spock gripped her waist more tightly.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, sliding down his body until she cuddled against his chest. “It’s just been so long…”

“So long?”

“Since I’ve been with someone,” Uhura mumbled into his neck.

Spock did not reply. He knew this from when he’d helped restore her mind after Nomad. Also knew upon their first shift on the bridge over a year ago was the last time she’d allowed herself a physical relationship. It was not for lack of the interested. Even from his own observations, it seemed men fell a little in love with her upon first sight, regardless if she noticed or not.

It had been disquieting to admit to himself he’d been among that number, even if he couldn’t figure it out until much later. He also was certain Jim and McCoy would protect her with their lives, and even from him should he hurt her.

Spock still had yet to decide if that latter fact were preferred or not.

He wrapped his arms around her and kept her close, his mouth relaxing when he felt her left hand settle over his heart. Then his jaw dropped when her lips began peppering kisses along his neck, as if the air coming through his nose just wasn’t enough for his lungs. His hand squeezed her shoulder.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked, her soft lips grazing his throat.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. “The hour grows late.”

She chuckled. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

His arms tightened around her and his lips fell upon her forehead. “No, I do not.”

Her free hand traveled along his neck with a light touch. “You may stay as long as you desire, Spock.”

For the first time in years, Spock felt the keen absence of his father. He wanted to ask just when it had been, or just what his mother had done, to make the ambassador realize she was to be an essential part in his life—illogical, emotional, and all. So vastly different from Vulcan Amanda Grayson was, yet it had almost been forty years since they have been married—not a long time by Vulcan standards, but almost an eternity for humans. From the beginning, Spock could not help comparing his Nyota to his mother. At first, he thought there was something common to human women. But now, as he held Uhura against him, he gathered it was more substantial than that. He suspected he’d probably never discover what that substantial aspect was; nevertheless, it made him curiously anticipatory to the new facts and truths he would learn about the woman settled in his lap.

Who was asleep.

Spock smiled slightly and stood. She didn’t stir, but the hold he had on her was secure. He went to her sleeping alcove and tucked her into bed the same way he’d done the night of the farewell celebration; only this time, he kissed her lips lightly.

“Spock?”

“I will leave you to rest,” he replied against her mouth.

She framed his face with cool hands and kissed him again, tugging on his bottom lip. Spock sank to his knees so she had easier access to him, and he started moving his own mouth from her lips down her neck to the dip of the collar of her uniform.

She sighed dramatically. “You were right, Spock. I’m glad you rejected me that first time. Your kisses are definitely worthy of remembrance.”

His lips curved at the point of her chin. “I am pleased you think so.”

She snorted delicately, then moaned. “You don’t have to go,” she said, arching into his caresses.

His mouth traveled north again. “As tempting as the implicit offer is, we are not ready for that step.”

Uhura laughed throatily. “Liar.”

He smiled against her earlobe, his hand smoothing down her right torso from breast to hip. “Physiologically, we are both more than ready, but I confess, Nyota, other facets of me are not.”

She pushed his head up from her ear and fanned her thumbs against his cheekbones. “You are having second thoughts.”

He mimicked her and cupped her face in his hands. “I will not be an easy lover.”

“I never said I wanted easy,” Uhura reminded him.

He smiled briefly. “No, you have not.”

Uhura returned it. “See?”

His smile faded and he shook his head. “I want to provide your wants,” Spock explained, frowning a little. “And I am uncertain if I will succeed in that regard.”

“Why don’t you let me decide what I will or will not want, Spock?” Uhura asked, kissing his nose. “I want you—nothing more, nothing less—for as long as I am able to have you,” Uhura confessed as she looked deeply into his eyes.

He nodded and brushed her lips lightly with his. “Very well.”

Uhura deepened the kiss and tried to bring him atop her, but he resisted. However, his efforts had him resting his forehead against hers to catch his breath once the buss ended. She was still caressing his cheeks and Spock’s hand was possessive at her hip.

“Stay with me until I fall asleep again?” she asked.

“I will.”

Kissing his cheek, Uhura got out of bed on the opposite side. Spock did not look behind him, but his ears picked up on her rifling through her drawers then going to her bathroom for her nightly ritual. Nine point one-one minutes later, she returned to bed in the same nightgown she’d worn when he’d come to see her after being released from sickbay. One of Khan’s henchmen had backhanded her, resulting in Uhura having a concussion. He’d been as unsettled then as he’d been when Nomad had attacked, and it was in that moment Spock realized one of the major barriers preventing them from becoming more physically affectionate. No doubt he’d unconsciously sent out messages that made her reluctant to reach out to him as a result.

“Nyota, I wish to touch you,” he whispered.

She held out her hand. Though he shook his head, he grasped her hand and kissed her knuckles longingly.

“No, your mind. I learned some things about you when I helped repair it. It is only fair you learn some things about me in the same fashion.”

Not removing her hand from his, she went to his side of the bed and sat next to him, body turned toward his. Spock rested his forehead against hers once more and used his free hand to find the contact points against her right temple.

Her mind was brilliantly chaotic, and it welcomed him with such warmth, joy, and a little anxiousness. He soothed the anxiousness away even while he bore open his mind for Uhura’s perusal. Despite the access he gave her, she didn’t exploit it. She sought out the places where he experienced confusion and pain and seemed to kiss them, both as a healing and as an acceptance of his complexity.

Ultimately, the meld lasted less than five minutes, but both were breathing as if they’d just run a marathon on Vulcan with less-than-normal oxygen levels. When she caught her breath, Uhura pressed herself against him and kissed his forehead for a long time. Spock settled his hands at her waist and continued to catch his, unable to keep from leaning into her kiss.

“So, you knew I loved you before I did,” Uhura said against his skin. “The moment it happened.” The moment she had lost communications with the Galileo was when realization had dawned, but the desire to find the craft and bring it back didn’t allow her to confront that fact until much later—right when she’d come to him to speak of her relief of his safety. And it was during that meeting Spock could admit her status in his life had changed irrevocably as well.

“Yes,” he replied, moving down so he could rest his forehead in the crook of her neck.

“And that bothered you?”

“Yes, because you believed you did so in vain.”

“But I don’t do so in vain.”

“No, you do not.”

Uhura tilted his chin up and gazed into his eyes for a long while, then kissed him. “Thank you for showing me I do not.”

Spock pressed her back into the bed and covered her body with his. They kissed for long, sensuous moments that had Spock pulling back so he could maintain control. Eventually, he settled on the other side of her and pulled her into his arms, telling her stories about Vulcan to ease her into slumber. Once her eyes were closed and her breathing was deep and even, Spock kissed the corner of her mouth and left her room.

His trip to his quarters was brief, and once inside he immediately set up the firepot to begin meditations. It proved difficult, however, when all he could focus on was Uhura’s touch and kiss.