Disclaimer: I actually came up with the idea for Star Trek first—the "Star" part was more like "Rural North Dakota" and the "Trek" part was more like "Three Guys Sitting on a Bench Outside the Mini Mart," but the basics of the story were more or less the same. Gene Roddenberry just got to pitch his first. –sighs-

This scene takes place after Spock and Kirk return to the Enterprise, and manage to warp the ship away from the black hole.


"I suppose I gave your name up to Captain Kirk," Spock said apologetically, running a hand over the arm of the woman curled up next to him. His expression was blank, but his eyes betrayed the peculiar warmth that was silently radiating through his body. He wondered, vaguely, if she felt it also.

Nyota Uhura squeezed closer to the pale man. A small part of her had been waiting to accept his unavoidable death, but he had somehow (thank everything) returned from his suicide mission with the new rrrrrrrrrrrrrrfCaptain. He had found her in his own quarters after he had visited sickbay and assured Leonard McCoy that he was not seriously injured. Kirk had used a less logical argument, and Spock suspected he was still being injected with whatever the doctor could find. Lieutenant Uhura had refused to leave the room, instead opting to cling to him, demanding every detail about the Narada mission. He did not mind the company.

"I failed to recognize it as a secret," the Vulcan continued. Right—her name.

Uhura smiled oddly. "It's okay. It's just a game, really," she pulled her hair tie out, as the tight bump on her head was becoming uncomfortable. "He could have asked around or just checked the registration on my laptop or something, but I guess he wanted to earn it."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Captain Kirk is an interesting man," Spock mused. "However, I will admit that I am curious. I have never heard anyone refer to you by your first name. May I inquire about your decision to withhold such commonplace information?"

"Nyota was my mother's name," Uhura said simply, running a hand through her dark hair and looking away.

Spock still felt quite hopeless in this form of interaction. It was largely inefficient. Why could humans not simply say what they meant? "Did you dislike her?" he queried, not comprehending.

Uhura cringed, suddenly defensive. "No! No, not at all. I loved her very much." She paused then, and swallowed. Spock waited expectantly. "But I lost her." She found a tiny knot in her hair and tried to ease it out. "I was fourteen."

"Ah," Spock said, now understanding, far more than he wished to. He reached for her hand without thinking. "Then I suppose that is something we now have in common."

She frowned.

"I apologize," he said suddenly, dropping her hand. "I have hurt you. This was not my intention. My curiosity overtook me. I should have asked for your permission before calling you by your first name. It was inappropriate and I should not have assumed--"

"I don't want to hide from you," she interrupted desperately, finding his hand again with hers and holding tightly. "I would never want you to feel as if I don't trust you completely."

"Thank you, Uhura," he said, retesting her last name.

"I want you to call me Nyota," she whispered.

His eyes brightened slightly, and she noticed once again that his eyes were very human. And so was he, in his own way.

"Nyota," he murmured, and she smiled. He held her tightly. "Nyota, Nyota, Nyota."