Title: The Gift
Author: Bandicca@aol.com
Series: TOS
Rating: PG
Part: 1/1
Code: S/U
Summary: After Nomad Spock tries to help Uhura
Disclaimer: I do not own anything Trek, except some books and a Kirk,
Spock and a McCoy doll.
Beta: My thanks to IDIC0375 for the wonderful beta. I did everything
she told me to do. If you see any errors, I did those so don't hold
it against her.
Archive:Yes please do UFF
Authors note: I wrote this awhile back under another name. At the
time it seemed to right thing to do. But I've decided to send it
forth again because there's more to it coming up.



He stood outside her door, ignoring the looks of passing
crewmembers. He told himself that it was not logical to feel
apprehension, to feel anything at all except a sense of duty. But he
knew that wasn't entirely true. Pressing the panel again, he shifted
the awkwardly wrapped package beneath his arm, and waited. A moment
of silence and then her voice muffled and hurried.

"Come"

The door slid open and he stepped inside to stand just inside the
threshold. There was no one in sight, so he assumed she was in the
sleeping alcove. The assumption was confirmed when she called out to
take a seat.

Moving to the couch, he sat and placed the item under his arm
carefully in his lap. Having never been here before he took the time
to examine his surroundings. Knowing the communications officer as
he did, he would never have expected extreme feminine décor, and he
was not disappointed. The room was awash in soothing neutrals,
shades of tan and russet predominated. Desert colors, he thought
approvingly. Lieutenant Uhura interrupted his reverie. She emerged
from the alcove smiling and fussing with her hair. The red and gold
gown she wore complimented her jewelry and enhanced her dark
complexion. He found the effect quite arresting.

She smiled when she saw him. "Mr. Spock," she said, delight in her
voice, "what are you doing here?"

"I trust I am not disturbing you?"

"Not at all, would you care for some tea? I was about to make some
for myself." She was confident, not uncertain as he half expected
her to be. The experience with Nomad had shaken all of them. But
Uhura had been the most unfortunate. The earth probe's original
programming had been to seek out new life. While in space, the Nomad
probe had met with another. Its purpose was to collect soil samples
and sterilize them. The two had merged and it turned very
dangerous. It had performed its own brand of sterilization. The
probe had wiped her memory clean and she was now in the process of
being reeducated. He told himself he was here to help.
He nodded.

"Thank you, that would be most welcome."

She drifted over to the teapot and busied herself there, not
speaking. Watching her as she moved, he admired her graceful form.
He could never understand the human proclivity for small talk, their
constant need to fill the empty space between phrases with null
chatter. However, she was different, peaceful, accepting of the
silence. It dawned on him that this quality about her had drawn him
to her, the quietness of her emotions It occurred to him that he had
never minded touching her, or letting her touch him.

She brought the two cups over and handed him one.

"So this is a social visit, huh? I haven't had many of those lately."

He sipped his tea, cleared his throat, and then put his cup down.

"Not entirely, I came to see how you were progressing in your
studies."

"Actually, I'm quite fine. Dr. McCoy says I'll be up to snuff in a
couple of days, and then my vacation will be over. His words not
mine."

"Yes, the doctor is notorious for his colorful statements. But I am
pleased to hear that; your presence is missed on the bridge."

"Believe me; I'm more than ready to get back to work. Ever since the
incident occurred, everyone has been so helpful, assisting me with
rebuilding my memory. It's a good thing I keep a journal; it's been
a great help."

"And I came to give you this." He held forth the package.

She took it and looked back at him. "For me?"

"Yes, for you."

He watched her as she carefully tore the paper away to reveal a
Vulcan harp. She ran her hands lovingly over the polished wood,
making small sounds of appreciation and for a brief irrational moment
he wished himself in its place. Experimentally, she plucked the
strings and smiled at the clear tone the instrument emitted.

"Spock, this is--this is beautiful." She said, awe in her voice.

"I am glad you approve."

She examined it again more closely this time, and began to frown.
For a moment, he didn't understand. He thought she would be
pleased. Instead, she seemed disturbed.

"But I can't accept this, you have to return it."

"This instrument was designed especially for you on my instructions."

"You had this made for me?"

"Yes, I had hoped you would take up your harp lessons again."

"Again? Of course, I don't remember."

"You used to take them from me."

"I did? Then I must have been very good." She said jokingly.

"You were progressing admirably. Many humans find the harp quite
difficult to master. I truly admire your perserverance. It is one
of your best qualities."

"Thank you, I appreciate that. I always try my best in whatever I
do."

She stood suddenly, and crossed the room, chuckling ruefully. She
continued to pace as she spoke.

"There's so much I don't know, but I get the impression that I used
to know a great deal. It's funny, my mind was erased, but my
emotions were left intact. Those first couple of days I was
frustrated tremendously. I remember a longing I couldn't put a name
too, because I didn't have the words. Any time I learned
something 'new' - it felt like something I should know."

"To have your emotions guide your intellect is a foreign concept to
me."

"I realize I'm not expressing this as well as I want too, but that's
the best I can do under the circumstances."

She walked back to the couch, sat down next to him, and grasped his
hand.

"I'm lucky to have friends that care about me. Friends that want to
help me get back to normal, whatever that is. I am grateful; thank
you for the gift."

And before he could acknowledge her thanks, she leaned in and kissed
him. The move was sudden and unexpected. Just a brief brush of her
lips to his cheek. The sensation was both electric and comforting,
causing him no distress. She drew back a bit, searching his eyes.
He could see she'd felt it too and when he placed his hand on her
face, she leaned in and kissed him again, this time on the lips.
This kiss too was brief, and as if by agreement, they broke off and
looked at one another.

She was the first to speak, her voice not totally even. "I'm sorry.
My emotions are still close to the surface, and I should have
remembered I shouldn't have done that."

"There's no need for apology, you did nothing wrong." He realized he
was still holding her hand. Reluctantly he dropped it and stood. "I
have to leave now. There are some things I must attend to."

She rose beside him and together they walked to the door, as it slid
open he turned and looked at her.

"I shall expect you at 1800 tomorrow, for your lesson."

"Don't worry, I'll be there, - and Spock?"

"Yes?"

She laughed. "I could get used to that you know."

The corner of his mouth turned up in a very slight smile.

"Indeed. Good night Nyota."

"Goodnight Spock, and thank you."

***

Later that evening Spock lay on his meditation slab in his quarters.
Retreating into pure logic always helped clear his mind and reign in
his emotions. After leaving Uhura's quarters, he had come here to try
to reason out his behavior. He thought meditation would help;
instead, it had the opposite effect. He realized he didn't want to
bury the feeling. He wanted to explore it. He sat up, removed his
mediation robe, and went to get his nightclothes. As he lay on his
bunk in the dark, he thought about how soft her skin had been. When
she had grasped his hand it had surprised him, but what had surprised
him more was the fact that he hadn't wanted to let go.

Just when had his feelings begun to change, to grow? And even more,
now that they had, would he allow them to thrive or neglect them? He
was unsettled, but here alone, he allowed himself the all too human
indulgence of thinking of her touch. He would deal with it logically,
and with that thought, he settled into sleep.

The End