A/N: I just wrote this whole author's note and then my computer freaked and I lost it. Gah. Anyway, I'm obsessed with Star Trek. Over the Thanksgiving break my friend and I had ourselves a beautiful little marathon of Star Trek movies, including II, III, IV, and 2009. During one of our conversations my friend (she knows who she is out there!) brought up the fact that no matter what alternate universe they are in Spock and Jim are always connected in some way. Then she mentioned that she wanted to read a fic in which Uhura went to Spock Prime to discuss the nature of their relationship in his timeline, and found out that things were definitely not the same. Thus, this one-shot was born. There are implications of Kirk/Spock slash, but very little more than that. Any and all mistakes are my own. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Maybe Santa will bring me them for Christmas?


The minute she meets him she knows exactly who he is. And she shoots Spock a look with a furrowed forehead, confused. Spock—her Spock—meets her gaze and then turns away. She knows him well enough to know that this is why he's been so nervous and uneasy for the past few days, ever since they got the assignment to make their way to New Vulcan. He didn't want her know.

This makes her uneasy. Especially as she looks at the older—much older, much different—version of her boyfriend. Especially when he meets her gaze and she sees nothing of her Spock there. She sees no love, not even a spark. Friendship, yes, and warmth, but no love.

Oh, but his eyes light up when Jim Kirk walks into view.

And that makes her very uneasy.

She doesn't get a chance to speak to him right away. There are always people around, and the topic she wants to discuss with him isn't exactly something you bring up in the presence of other people. It's a private discussion. But she is determined, and eventually she comes across him standing alone, looking out the window, his hands behind his back. He stands like her Spock, in almost the exact same way. But there's a certain…softness to him that her Spock doesn't have.

She wonders what made that softness, and she thinks she knows. And that too makes her uncomfortable.

"Ambassador?" She says, her voice soft. He turns. There's the hint of a smile to his expression, a fondness in his eyes, but nothing of love. Not for her.

"Ah, Lieutenant Uhura. How may I be of assistance?"

She looks past him for a moment, out the window. Then she meets his gaze. "You're him. From the future."

He inclines his head. "I see you have deduced my identity." He looks at her. His eyes hold the familiar calculations whirling around. "You have a query?"

She swallows. "In your timeline…there was nothing between us." Even as she speaks the words they aren't a question. She knows the answer, reads it in his expression. The corners of his lips tilt down into a frown; she wonders at that, at how much more comfortable he is in letting emotion show.

"No," he answers, straightforward. She's glad that he doesn't lie to her, glad that he's still the same in that respect. "In my timeline you and I did not have a romantic relationship. We were friends and we were crewmates, but our relationship did not develop farther than that."

Her hands go behind her back, a mimicking of his posture. "Why?"

The Ambassador—the other version of Spock—sighs a little. His lips press tightly together and he looks at her. His expression is not unsympathetic, and his hesitation tells her what she needs to know. He must see the knowledge in her eyes, because he nods. "It seems you already know the answers you seek."

"You loved James Kirk." She says flatly.

He inclines his head. "Yes," he says simply. "I did. I do, still. My Jim was different from yours, and yet they are not unalike."

Her hands drop to her sides, her posture slipping. She bites her lower lip and looks at him. "Am I going to lose him?" She whispers.

He tilts his head to the side. "I cannot know, Lieutenant." He softens; there is real sympathy and understanding in his eyes. "This time is not the same as my own. Events have been irrevocably changed. The Jim Kirk you know is not the same as the one I loved. Nor is the Spock you know that same as I am. You and I never engaged in a relationship in my time; this has already proven a change."

She looks at him. "But," she prompts.

"But," he says, with a nod. "Time is a strange thing, Nyota." He uses her name, and it's as though she's talking to her own Spock for a moment. "Events change, and yet there are patterns. I have been privy to multiple universes. In each of these James Kirk and I have been connected. Vulcans do not believe in fate, and yet in each of these universes certain people are drawn together. Do you believe it is coincidence that the exact crew of the Enterprise I knew came together again?" He shrugs. "This world is different, Nyota. The course of time has been altered, and I cannot predict what will happen, nor can any of you."

She shifts on her feet, wringing her hands together. "I see it," she says, in a quiet voice. He doesn't ask her what it is. He already knows. She sighs. "There's no way of changing things, is there? It's going to happen, one way or another."

"Perhaps not," the elderly Vulcan says. But she sees in his eyes that he's giving her fool's hope.

"If it doesn't we'll all end up miserable," she says. Her voice is stronger now.

"The world is different," he repeats. "Nothing is the same."

She shakes her head. "No, sir. This thing…this is the same." Her shoulders slump a little but she lifts her head higher. She turns to leave.

"Nyota." She pauses, turning back towards him. "It is only fair to inform you that you were not alone in my timeline." She raises an eyebrow and folds her arms, waiting. A tiny smile graces his expression. "As a matter of fact you and our resident engineer had quite the relationship."

Her mouth drops open a little. "What?" She says. He just gives her a mischevious look, bows his head, and makes his farewells. She closes her mouth, thinking. "Hmm," she finally concludes, with a little smile.

A few weeks later she ends their relationship. Spock stands in front of her and asks her why with a thoroughly confused expression on his face. He looks a little like a lost puppy, a little hurt, a little surprised, but mostly composed. She just gives him a little bittersweet smile and tells him "You'll find out". He doesn't understand, not then.

But eventually, he does. She watches with a little bit of satisfaction, glad that at least one thing can be right in the world.

And all things said and done, she does have a little thing for Scottish accents. Who knows where that will take her?

She doesn't want to mess with fate, after all.

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