AN: I have no idea where this came from. Honestly. Its 5 in the morning. Why am I not asleep?

Yes, I have published another SpockxUhura fanfiction. A sweet little one shot. Don't worry, I'm still carrying on with A Matter of Coincidence, I just needed to get this idea out of my head. Its been up there for a few days. I was inspired for about an hour, then I became distracted and lost interest. But I think I've managed to finish this in a suitable way. As its a one shot, it doesn't really matter how it ends, as long as it ends right?

If you clicked on this story, then you are obviously here for the smut. Well, you ask, and I deliver. The good stuff isn't until the end of the chapter. And there is quite a bit of only slightly related nonsense to read through first...The plot for this is all over the place. There really is no set structure. I keep changing perspectives, so it may be hard to follow. Its not to graphic, though it is implied. I tried to control myself. :)

Characters may seem and will be severely out of character towards the end.

Their relationship was based around proposals.

An idea or suggestion that was spoken casually without an expected answer. When she had first enrolled at the academy, the verbal suggestions had been innocent, and easy to decline. If she were on her way to the mess hall for her lunch, he would ask to accompany her. Of course, back then she had had no reason to refuse. A tutor dining with one of his students, particularly one that was as skilled as she (to put it bluntly, was considered a 'favourite') was nothing unusual.

They were often seen sat together. The talented linguist and the stoic Vulcan. Whether it be after lectures, walking across campus, or spotted talking quietly inside the Commanders office, the pair were so familiar they had become common-place.

Sometimes, Uhura would be the one to ask to accompany him. These situations were rare, and in some cases unusual, but she would always been seen walking by his side. On an off-campus visit to a building in the city, disappearing in a flurry of data in the transporter bay, even climbing into small shuttle preparing for a mission off-planet. To those who operated or owned aforementioned places, her presence should have been concerning. After all, she was a first year student. No matter how talented she was, there were procedures and rules to follow.

However, as these situations always involved Commander Spock, there was nothing to be to concerned about. Those workers and business owners simply shrugged and continued about their day.

Not one would stop to think about the unusual relationship the two seemed to have.

When she started her second year, the suggestions became more personal. He would ask her to join him for dinner in his office. These invitations were always given after lectures, or when she stayed later then usual in the communications laboratory.

Sometimes she would politely decline, having made other plans or was simply to busy to consider an early meal. But more often then not, she agreed. This routine became familiar to them. On Mondays and Fridays, she would eat in his office. The two of them conversing in multiple languages, sat either side of a small table with their meals in front of them. They would also meet in the gymnasium on weekends (at first, this had been purely a coincidence. They both preferred to exercise when the health centre was empty. Sunday evenings were the most logical choice) Whilst she would use the quieter environment to swim, he would meditate or commandeer the weights room. And sometimes they would run around the adjacent track together. It really depended on what type of exercise the two preferred on that specific day.

When he approached her during the second semester of that year, wishing to hire her as his assistant, she had been delighted. When her room-mate had asked what could possibly be so exciting about being forced to do extra work, Uhura has simply laughed and stated that to her, the prospect of access to different learning materials (third year assignments and such) was something to be very excited about.

Of course, being the tease her room-mate was, she had casually remarked that the reason Uhura was so excited was not because of unlimited library access, but because of the company she would have during those evenings. After all, she and the commander were awfully close...

Gaila was not as dense as she lead people to believe. She was Orion. She recognised desire and affection when she saw it. Uhura had blushed, but had laughed and brushed the statement aside.

Their relationship was based around challenges.

A suggestion that had to be spoken carefully, and always answered with a precisely thought out answer. When she began her third year at the academy, finding time to eat in the mess hall became a challenge. She would eat in her room, or not eat anything at all until the early hours of the morning. When the canteen opened at six am, she would be there. Having not slept the night before. Her eyes tired and weary, arms tightly gripping a heavy pile of notepads, loose documents or several electronic PADD's.

The kitchen staff would greet her with amused and often scolding words. Handing her a pre-prepared meal (often a sandwich or thick vegetable soup) and bustle her off to find herself a seat.

He would be waiting for her.

His presence had become as predicable as hers. Whilst the tired cadet would stumble into the building an hour after it opened, the Commander would already be inside by the time the kitchen staff arrived. Often spotted sat in a corner, his face illuminated by the glow of his PADD, a steaming mug of chamomile tea held in one hand. Another cup waiting expectantly on the other side of the table. Whilst his sudden interest in early morning refreshments had been something of a surprise to staff, they had grown used to him. They each met him with a polite greeting, the elder of the workers slightly reprimanding. (They had never been able to figure out how he managed to gain access to the mess hall when only those who were employed there had the access codes)

As was their routine, Uhura would seat herself opposite her commander. Giving a bleary eyed greeting before digging into her meal with relish. Spock would always wait her her to finish. Nodding when she murmured her thanks for her drink, and swallowing the often lukewarm beverage in several large gulps.

By this point in time, the staff would be to busy preparing the days food to really pay attention to the early morning guests. If they had happened to glance over, all they would see is a tutor and his student talking. Nothing out of the ordinary. If they were the more observant sort however, they would have seen subtle changes in the couples behaviour. Lingering eye contact, their closer than usual seating, small facial gestures.

They were seen around campus together a lot more as Uhura's third academic year progressed. Their behaviour was no different to the previous two years.

And yet, there seemed to be something different about them.

When the young woman accompanied the commander off campus, walking casually by his side, his response to her presence had changed. When they would be preparing to board a shuttle, she would enter before him. A hand placed upon her back to help steady her. Her luggage (a simple overnight bag) hung over his shoulder. She stood closer to him in the transporter bay. Their frames almost touching as they de-materialised.

During the evenings, when most students would be returning to their rooms with relief, she was often seen walking across campus. Towards the partially hidden building that housed the resident tutors and other visiting Starfleet officers.

Again, this had become something of a familiarity, even if those of a higher rank thought it were inappropriate. She would reappear an hour or so later, looking as though she had simply been out for a late night stroll. On some occasions, her hair would be loose from its trademark ponytail. Her uniform only slightly askew.

Her expression would be casual and welcoming to those she happened to pass.

Her room-mate knew everything of course. After all, she was a woman. But she didn't say anything, only smiled with what could be considered victory when Uhura eventually returned from one of her late night 'walks'.

Sometimes, the urge to tease would be too strong, and Gaila would comment on how refreshed her room-mate seemed. Wasn't it remarkable how something as simple as a stroll could help someone get rid of so much built up stress? Uhura knew at this point in time there was no point in lying, so she would simply smile. The gesture secretive and somewhat prideful. Then she would leave her amused room-mate to her own thoughts and stand to take a shower, laughing and ignoring the blatantly obvious questions the Orion would throw after her.

Their relationship had become a dare.

A higher risk than the challenges they faced before. Now, it was not a matter of finding ways to be alone, it was a competition. Each competitor trying to break the other.

It has started with a kiss.

Over the past year and a half, they had become confident with each other. With their unusual relationship, and all the issues and complications that came with it. To observing eyes, they were the same as always. The dedicated student and the motionless Vulcan commander.

They were not seen together as much during this time. This perhaps due to the extra responsibility given to the Commander regarding the near completion of Starfleets newest ship, or the fieldwork and exams Uhura was participating in. Whatever the reason, the familiar pair was often spotted separated, walking in different directions around campus.

Uhura was replaced as Spock's teaching aide, by a cadet who soon resigned his post. No one volunteered to fill this vacancy.

Those who operated the transporter and shuttle bays began to miss the two, as the sudden stopping of their bi-monthly routine had become so familiar, it was almost uncomfortable they were not there. The early morning visits to the canteen also stopped (the staff using the opportunity to reprogramme the mess halls security codes)

It seemed to those who noticed that the close relationship between the lieutenant and the commander has simply evaporated. Only a handful cared to wonder why.

In reality, the situation was the complete opposite.

That small, simple kiss had started a daring game between the two that was fast becoming dangerous.

They had both agreed to keep their relationship a secret. Their meetings restricted to Spock's personal quarters. In the privacy of his home, they allowed themselves the contact they both craved. Gone was the professional demeanour of the commander and the honest obedience of the student. In that small, sparsely decorated apartment, they were a man and a woman.

It had come as quite a surprise to both of them how quickly their physical relationship had developed.

Uhura had not known what to expect.

She was a skilful lover. She knew how to make a man scream for her, cry out her name in ecstasy with only the softest touch, and yet...she had never had a Vulcan as a lover before. From what she knew of the species, they did not require physical pleasure as often as humans did. Emotions were unnecessary and bothersome.

When she had first realised she was attracted to the Commander, and then when he had admitted he desired her too (although, he had stated this in a completely different way) she had been curious as to how they would be able to further their bond. She knew Spock was half human...but that was the less dominant part of his personality.

She had not let that concern her at first. Simply enjoyed his curious exploration of her. Their kisses switching from sweet and delicate to heated and expectant within moments.

To her surprise, it had been Spock who had made that first move. They had been in his apartment. Him seated on his sofa with her legs either side of his hips. His hand had moved from its permanently fixated place on her hip to her rear, cupping the soft flesh with a strange confidence. She remembered breaking their kiss in surprise, expecting to see his passive features looking down at her when she raised a questioning glance. Instead, she had been met with one raised eyebrow and the almost unnoticeable traces of a smirk.

He was challenging her?

If Uhura really thought about it, it was at that moment that their dangerous game had started. That daring facial gesture had stoked her already competitive nature. She had kissed him, forcefully, running her tongue along the seem of his lips until his startled intake of breath gave her access. In retaliation, he had ran his hand underneath the hem of her skirt. Bare flesh touching bare flesh.

That had been the first night they had slept together. Each of them daring the other to take things further. Her biting the flesh of his neck. Him cupping her breast and intentionally squeezing her sensitive nipples. Her opening his shirt to kiss and bite his chest, following the natural line of dark hair that disappeared into his trousers.

They had ended that night utterly spent. Her smaller body crushed beneath his on the living room floor. His still throbbing length buried so deep inside her it would have been painful if she hadn't been so aroused. He had been breathless. His face leant into the crook of her neck, skin flushed as he tried to regain his composure. He hadn't succeeded, his bones so heavy he resigned himself to the fact he would not be moving any time soon, and had chosen to let out a deep satisfied groan and and fall against her. He had been heavy. So heavy she had felt winded. But neither of them had moved until at least thirty minutes later, when their bodies cooled and a soft chill fell over them. Then, he had stood, as naked as the day he was born and simply pulled her up into his arms. Moving casually towards his bedroom, where he dropped her down onto his bed and crawled on top of her again.

The gasping hoarse whisper of "More..." in her ear all the encouragement she needed.

The sex between them bordered on primitive. They were both the dominant partner. And they were both the submissive one. Their foreplay contests seemed to judge who would be taking control. If she 'won', they would spend the night with her on top. Riding him until her hips groaned and locked in protest. If he won, then she ended up in all sorts of positions. Pinned against the wall with her legs wrapped around his waist. Or bent over his table, her wrists gripped in his hands as he ploughed into her from behind.

It really was startling. The transition he made each day from a cool, emotionless and uncaring tutor, to a primal and savage lover.

However, regardless to how extreme their sexually activities were in private, they had both agreed to never let that side of their relationship show when they were at the academy. There was no rule that stated students and tutors were not allowed to date, yet Spock had voiced concerns about how she would be treated if her fellow students found out she was with him. She has assured him that whilst his concerns were appreciated, she could deal with any negativity that she faced. Even so, they both mutually agreed to keep it secret. Their contact during lecture hours was reduced dramatically, and they both rearranged their schedules to reduce the chance of coincidental meetings in the mess hall and at the gymnasium.

This more to reduce chance of one of them rethinking the 'no touching' rule more then anything else.

But then she had kissed him. In his office. In the middle of the day.

She honestly hadn't been able to control herself. She had only intended to quickly drop in one off her completed essays and leave (avoiding him completely would have been impossible) but her gaze had focused on his lips. Memories had flooding into her mind of what those lips could do, what they had done to her only hours before. She had acted unconsciously. Stepping forwards and kissing him passionately. His door had been open. Students moving through the hallways, all one of them had to do was turn their head and they would have been seen. A student leant over her commanders desk, her hands cupping his face and her tongue half way down his throat.

Sense had returned to her quickly, and she had almost thrown herself across the room when she released him, one hand placed over her mouth in shock. Her eyes wide with horror and lust.

His expression had mimicked hers. Disapproval was dominant on those dark eyes. Anger, surprise, and heavy desire.

Not knowing what to do, and feeling remarkably foolish, Uhura had all but ran from his office. A heavy blush covering her face as she stuttered an unintelligible apology over her shoulder as she fled. She had run all the way back to her dorm building. Flying through her bedroom door so quickly she caused Gaila to topple off her bed in alarm.

For two days, she religiously avoided him. Both horrified at what she had done (despite how they were when they were alone. The dark and primeval theme their sex lives was taking, she cared for Spock. Deeply. She would never do anything to intentionally damage what she had with him) and unashamedly aroused at the thought that they could have been seen. She hated the thought, found it repulsive, but she had actually enjoyed that dangerous moment. She was aroused at the thought of voyeurism. And she felt revolting because of it.

This fact alone was enough to reinforce her deliberate avoidance. For those two days, she did everything she could to avoid her lover. She did not attend his classes (but made sure to get the lectures transcripts from the head of the department so she wouldn't fall behind) didn't even go near the mess hall, and fled straight back to her room whenever she had some free time.

This method worked very well until the third day. That was the day the first set of students were scheduled to take the Kobayashi Maru test. Uhura had previously volunteered herself to act as both Communications and Navigation's officer for the duration of that day. There was no way she could avoid Spock during that time. As he was both the tests programmer, and the official in charge.

As an attempt to be as unnoticeable as possible, she had arrived thirty minutes earlier then was required. Her goal had been to sneak in before anyone else arrived. Her station was placed directly below the viewing deck. Hopefully, he would not be able to tell she was there without standing as close to the screen as possible and looking down.

Her plan had worked fairly well until she stepped into the hallway that would take her to the simulation rooms' main doors. Before she had taken more than two steps, a large hand had gripped her elbow, pulling her forcibly towards a thinner adjacent corridor that ended in a equipment supply closet.

Her back hit the wall, pale hands bracketing either side of her head as she blinked, trying to get her equilibrium back. And then lips were crushing hers. Soft lips. Familiar lips that nipped and pressed against her with a deep desperation that she recognized. Not daring to open her eyes, Uhura returned the kiss with just enough force, her arms lacing around her lovers neck and pulling him to her. Her breasts crushed between the two of them.

Spock's hand brushed across her thigh, the tips of his fingers soft and teasing. Then they darted upwards, under the hem of her skirt, effortlessly ripping the thin material of her stockings, pushing aside the barrier of her underwear, and then impaling her so quickly she screamed. Her eyes popped open in alarm, her mouth gasping as she tried to form words. Her eyes locked with his, and all the breath rushed from her lungs at the severity of the emotions she saw reflected back at her.

He was furious. All she could see was anger. A deep, dark fury that blackened his already dark eyes to something terrifying.

She swallowed, attempting to get some moisture back into her mouth before she tried to speak, but was instantly silenced by a pale hand that closed over her mouth, pressing so firmly her head knocked against the wall.

With deliberate ferocity, Spock removed his fingers, only to shove them back inside her with so much force her feet left the ground. And again. And again. Uhura yelped in pain. She wasn't ready. She wasn't wet enough. Her right hand lashed up, intentionally gripping hold of the bare skin on his neck, using that telepathic touch to scream the message she couldn't voice.

He instantly stilled. The hand pressed against her mouth moved, so it wasn't pressed so firmly against her. Something shifted in his eyes, and he let out a deep sigh. His head lowering to rest against the top of hers, eyes closing in what seemed like defeat.

Uhura concentrated on regulating her breathing. Her heart beating so quickly against her rib-cage she could feel the erratic pulse all the way down to her toes. His fingers were still inside her. Two large digits that felt as though they were made of sandpaper. She was positive he had torn something. She felt like she was burning, and not in the way that usually had her moaning in delight.

After a long moment, Spock slowly began to pull away from her. His fingers pulling out of her at a gentle and delicate pace that still caused her to hiss in pain.

She couldn't raise her head to look at him. Instead, she let her arms slide from his shoulders, her fingers almost caressing the skin of his neck as they pulled away.

The doorway barely two feet away from them hissed open, and the excited voices of cadets echoed down the corridor. Uhura nearly yelped, her head snapping up to stare with open eyed alarm in the direction the newcomers were approaching, at the same moment her hand raised to push against Spock's chest, intending to push him a respectful distance away from her.

Her physical strength had always seemed pathetic compared to his, his solid frame remaining stubbornly where it was. Instead of moving away, his hand gripped hers, and she was abruptly pulled to the side, half carried towards and then into the supply closest.

Before she even had time to open her mouth, Spock dropped to his knees. Gripping one of her legs beneath her thigh and lifting it to rest over his shoulder.

Then his mouth was upon her. The fabric of her underwear pushed aside as his tongue took a deliberate and languid lick of her abused body.

The sound that emerged from her mouth was shameful. A combination of a gasp in protest mixed with a moaning squeak of pleasure. Her hand flew to his hair through reflex, fingers tightly gripping the silky strands.

The excited voices passed by them, and then faded away. Uhura forced her eyes open to make sure the door to the closet was closed. And a sinful rush of fluid ran down her legs.

The door was open. Spock had placed her in such a way that she was exposed by the partially opened door. He had done it deliberately, kneeling in such away the sliding door was held open by his own foot.

An approving hum drifted up from beneath her skirt, the tip of his tongue pressing against the bundle of sensitive nerves that seemed to be throbbing in delight. A scream tore from her throat, which she forced herself to silence with her own hand. Her teeth embedding into her thumb.

He knew. Oh god...he knew.

She shouldn't have been surprised. He was a man of phenomenal intelligence. Her reaction to the kiss in his office was all the evidence he would of needed to know how the thought of being caught had effected her.

His anger was based upon her deliberate avoidance of him. He was furious she had tried to run away. He wanted to punish taking control. Using her weakness against her, daring her to oppose him. She had made the first move, and now he had made the next.

Using the same skilful mouth which had caused her so much mental agony the past forty eight hours, he bought her to a release that had her falling down the wall, her leg flopping off his shoulder as she landed in a ungraceful heap on his knees.

A bell rang. Signalling the start of the exam. Uhura didn't hear it. Her mind and body so sated she had to remind herself to breath. With a uncharacteristic grin of accomplishment on his face, Spock leaned forwards. Cupping her face and kissing her do deeply she could taste herself on him.

His lips skimmed along her chin, biting and nipping as he moved to whisper in her ear.

"Your move..."