Okay, I wanted to do something a little different that would eventually lead to an ending involving my favorite 'ship'. Here's a little fic. I hope you enjoy. I have an idea for something a little more 'adult' and intense. I might do that one later; I'm not that great at translating the smut from my head to the wonderful pages of Microsoft word. So, I need to work on that. Anywho, I hope you enjoy. As always, read, review, criticize, or condemn. I'll take it all.

Disclaimer: I own Davi and Tafari, that's it…

Four times Nyota Uhura thought she was in love, and one time it was the real thing…

I. Davi

Nyota Uhura was thirteen the first time she kissed a boy.


Even now, she took a deep breath recalling his eyes. They were a deep color of green, almost emerald; his skin the color of bronze metal and an accent dripping with seduction.

She was thirteen what could she possibly know about seduction?

Davi's parents were anthropologists and spent most of their time all over the continent of Africa. His mother was originally from Brazil and his father was born in Mozambique before the family relocated to South America. On her continuous quest for knowledge, Davi told Nyota stories about the Amazon. She learned Portuguese in the months following his family's arrival.

Her heart would flutter while they sat on the hillside pouring through translations, perfecting her vernacular. Nyota's eyes lingered on his lips as they formed syllables and clicked with the speed of a seasoned language pro. She wondered how his lips tasted; if they were soft. How would it feel if Davi kissed her?

Nyota recalled patiently listening to her mother talk about the changes she would notice in her body.

"You'll begin to find boys attractive. You may even notice a fire within your body, but remain pure and true to the vows you've made for your future."

The youngest Uhura closed her eyes and allowed the words that her mother had spoken to center the storm that threatened to take her over. When Nyota opened her eyes, she found Davi staring at her full of questions.

Those lips…

His eyes…

At sixteen he could have any girl of his choice. He was beautiful; a tower, taller than almost all of the men in her community, but soft spoken with the appearance of humility. Nyota found that she was drawn to Davi's energy.

The day his long fingers reached for the waves of her hair, Nyota inhaled refusing to breathe until the moment passed. When his lips met her cheeks, she smiled, and felt the fire stirring in the most intimate part of her body. Finally those same lips rested hers. They were soft and held hints of cinnamon and vanilla.

Davi was gentle, at first. Lightly kissing her lips and tracing them with his tongue. Heaven, this was bliss to Nyota. Davi pulled her closer until she fell on top of him. His hands roughly pulled at her hair and their kiss deepened. Nyota tried to pull away, in need of air, but he refused to let her go. His hands were traveling across her body. Gripping areas that she did not want touched. Struggling to break free, Nyota remembered her wrestling matches with her older brother. Quickly she brought her knee up to the most sensitive part of Davi's body and buried it with force. He cried out into her mouth, but this wasn't a cry of ecstasy.

There were no more tutoring sessions. Nyota was fluent in Portuguese now, but for some reason she always became sick to her stomach when she spoke the dialect.

II. Tafari

Tafari, whose skin was the color of bittersweet chocolate, he always bowed graciously when Nyota's mother offered him tea.

He was the same boy who lived a few houses down from the Uhuras. Tafari had watched Nyota bloom into a lovely flower. Those were the words he had written on the small blue paper, in the simple white envelope, bearing only her name as it lay on the front step. It made Nyota smile. She felt like the flower he described.

Tafari's kisses tasted like caramel as opposed to bittersweet chocolate. His touch was hesitant. Nyota had been the physical aggressor in their relationship. Pulling his hand to her breast and resting it there tenderly. Toying with his thigh and watching his arousal rise. It was the summer after their high school graduation before she could convince him that she no longer wanted to be a virgin. The first time had been a comedy of errors and ended shortly after it began. With practice, he learned the spots that set Nyota's body on fire, eliciting a barrage of curses and ending with that angelic look resting peacefully on her face.

Tafari was soft spoken and courteous.

He was intelligent.

Their shared passion for knowledge had united them initially more than any romantic curiosity. While he was not a linguist, capable of conversing in several dialects, Tafari did possess an enthusiasm for literature. He loved classical works; the ancient Greek prose contained in Homer's Iliad, Shakespeare's tragedies, and his guilty pleasure James Patterson's Alex Cross novels.

At the same time he could make Einstein's theory of relativity sound almost damn erotic. Sometimes he would rattle off random equations in her ear during their intimate moments. There was so much knowledge coursing through Tafari's brain. He had planned his life and it included Nyota at his side. Although they had spent many nights in awe as the stars danced across the sky, his future was in Kenya. Unfortunately, that's not what Nyota wanted. Tafari had been accepted to the University of Nairobi. He would enroll at the School of Medicine, become a doctor, and remain close to his parents.

Nyota needed more.

Tafari had basically dismissed her desires to enroll in Starfleet as a daydream that could never be reality.

"You have such a vibrant imagination, think of the bedtime stories you will tell our children." Tafari said as he kissed her lips.

His words stung; ripping an irreparable hole in the fabric of their relationship.

"If you leave this is the end." Tafari's words were fueled with anger.

The doors to the transport closed and not one tear left Nyota's eyes.

III. Christopher

The lines of his face added an undeniable amount of attractiveness to his features. The graying that had begun at his temples did the same. Every new cadet, male or female, at the Academy longed to have him as an academic advisor. Christopher Pike was brutal with the advice he dished out, but there was something to be said for the man's method of delivery.

When Nyota crossed the threshold of his office and he offered that boyish grin, her heart leapt from her chest. He extended a strong hand that she noticed because of its softness and warmth. Immediately an ease spread through her body and Nyota floated to the chair in front of Captain Pike's desk. The smile captivated her. Every time the corners of his mouth turned up, the man's eyes sparkled. Their first mentoring session passed quickly.

The Captain told Nyota about the Federation's newest ship. It was only a holographic image at the moment, but soon the building process would begin in a shipyard in Iowa.

"She will be mine."

The intensity of his words ignited energy in her body. Maybe it was the excitement of finally being a part of something she had dreamed about since her childhood or possibly it was the man in front of her with the dancing eyes. For a moment Nyota imagined that he was talking about her instead of the schematic projected between them.

"Pardon my French cadet but you're fucking brilliant." Nyota laughed in response to his words. She knew French and his admonishment had not been spoken in that particular vernacular. Little things like his ability to speak his mind without shame or filter reeled Nyota in more.

On his birthday she delivered a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. Nyota watched in silence as he shoveled cookie after cookie into his mouth. Finally stopping after ten and deciding to share with the colleagues who shared offices in the same corridor. Later that week he took the cadet out for lunch to say thank you. A week later, he took her to dinner after the announcement that she won the First Year Cadet award.

Nyota knew she was beautiful.

It wasn't arrogance. It had been instilled in her since birth. She recognized the looks of desire that men had bestowed upon her since her body began to develop; the lust that resided in Davi's eyes when he attempted to take advantage of Nyota; the craving that existed in Tafari's touch when they were physically intimate. Those things were evident in Captain Pike's eyes when he reached across the table and caressed her cheek. Quickly, he pulled his hand back, and the heart that had taken flight in her chest crashed and burned.

"One day, you'll find him." Those were the final words he said before assigning her to a much older and female advisor, followed by, "You're still brilliant and fucking gorgeous. Thanks for making this old man feel good."

After a few nights of tears, Nyota finally smiled, "One day."

IV. Spock

It was the eyebrow quirk.

Nyota Uhura sat on the front row of an expository course reflecting on the writings and teachings of Surak. She'd argued that Surak could be considered a Renaissance Vulcan, making the art of emotional suppression almost sensual. It was that word, sensual, that had caught the professor's attention. He was young. A few years older than Nyota, but the composure he possessed was that of someone who had centuries of practice. The summer session ended and Nyota was sure that she'd seen the last of the attractive young Vulcan professor.

When Nyota entered the Advanced Romulan Dialects course and found him propped on the desk at the front of the class, she was frozen and unable to move. He responded to her presence with only a nod, and Nyota reciprocated. She was captivated by his lectures. There was no need for her to take notes or even record a transmission of the Professor's lectures; everything was burned into her memory.

Somewhere on her journey from student to teaching assistant, Nyota had also added the role as lover. At times it felt more like an experiment more than a romantic relationship. Yet, this half Vulcan had a way of erasing all her doubts with one kiss. The possessiveness, at first was a fine substitute for passion.

Even after completing Starfleet and surviving the terror that was the first mission of the Enterprise. Nyota found that she was still enamored by this man who was unruffled but latently passionate. His touch set fires across her skin, but his face would reveal nothing. Many nights she found sleep in his arms and Nyota's mind drifted back to Pike's words, "One day." Was this the day and was Spock the one.

Only once had he allowed the visage of control to fall; after his planet's destruction and death of his mother; Spock was vulnerable and fully human. They had made love in spite of the despair he felt. Spock had clung to Nyota and she believed that this was a turning point for the relationship they shared. During the brief meld, Nyota had felt his pain and only wanted an opportunity to ease the soul that was hurting. The next morning he was the epitome of Vulcan control and he continued to distance himself from Nyota.

She was a reminder of a moment of weakness. Instead of that night being seen as a moment in love, one beloved supporting the other, Spock was ashamed. The rift between them grew. He came to her room less frequently. The silent glances between them on the bridge ended.

The coffin to their dead relationship was sealed without explanation.

V. Leonard

A year passed after the end of Nyota's relationship with Spock. She was content. Not happy, but comfortable with the path life was taking. The pain from the break with Spock had eased after a few months. It no longer hurt to look in his direction on the bridge. At times she even had a warm smile to offer in response to one of his witty and completely sarcastic observations. Her heart was not bothered by the obvious affection that existed between the Captain and First Officer. It was logical.

However, it was completely illogical that the first man to destroy the brick wall built around Nyota's heart was the ship's Chief Medical Officer. She had found him in a quiet corner of sickbay, tears staining his eyes as he looked at a screen that once held the transmission between the doctor and his daughter.

"Dr. McCoy." She prodded and he didn't respond. Carefully Nyota placed her hand on his shoulder, "Leonard."

Leonard McCoy spent the next hour sharing the details surrounding his divorce and eventual entry into Starfleet. He ended the tale with his daughter's request for permission to call her mother's new husband daddy. Her heart broke with his. The love he felt for the little girl was evident. The doctor thanked Nyota for listening and threatened to inject her with a good old fashioned dose of swine flu if word got out that he cried. Pulling her uniform up to cover her neck, Nyota promised the secret would remain between the two of them.

In the weeks that followed, Nyota found silly and insignificant reasons to visit the doctor in sickbay or his quarters. He called her a mother hen and threatened yet again a dose of something particularly nasty if she didn't quit pecking around. Nyota ignored him and tucked the napkin in the collar of his shirt before placing a plate of home cooked food in front of him.

If the lieutenant wasn't cooking for the world's best doctor with the worst bedside manner, she was forwarding articles of interest from latest medical journals. She timed her breaks with the doctor's. His presence soothed her despite his gruff demeanor. Once the Enterprise docked Earth side, Nyota made good on a previous promise to the doctor and took him home for a dinner with the only cook she knew that was capable of outshining her, Baba Uhura, Nyota's grandmother.

There was no fussing or threats of hypo sprays as Nyota's grandmother doted on Leonard. Rubbing his cheeks and pointing to the bathroom forcing the man to shave before he sat at her table. Nyota watched as her Baba piled food on Leonard's plate until he could not open his mouth again.

They walked the hillside that night and his thank you was genuine and full of emotion. When she met his eyes in the darkness, she noticed that they were a far more beautiful color of green than Davi's had ever been.

Her mind drifted back to Leonard's acceptance of her grandmother's concern. How he bowed and accepted the woman's endearments of affection. Leonard had literally basked in all the attention. He was humble but still completely masculine, unlike Tafari, who threw around a false perception of what it meant to be a man.

Nyota allowed her fingertips to trace the faint lines forming around the doctor's eyes and mouth. His candor was reminiscent of Pike's but much more entertaining.

Leonard wore his heart on his sleeve. Pushing people away with sarcasm and colloquial comebacks that she knew he practiced behind closed doors. He didn't hide from her, not that day in sickbay and not now standing on the hillside behind her grandmother's house. Yes he maintained his composure, but Leonard knew when to let Nyota in and not push her away, a lesson she hoped that Spock was learning with Jim.

When their lips met, it was perfect.

One day had arrived.