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“So.”
Gaila set a plate of pecan pie in front of Nyota, starting in on her own piece before she was even properly sitting down.
“You told me how you and Jimmy met. Several times, as a matter of fact.”
Nyota tucked into her own dessert, still a bit jittery now that the first day of her service was drawing to a close, while waiting for her friend to wind herself up to whatever it was she wanted to ask.
“Had I told you, back then, that you'd be serving on the Federation's flagship straight out of the academy, as the youngest Chief Communications Officer in the 'Fleet's history with James Kirk as your captain... what would you have said?”
Nyota laughed out loud, accidentally choking on bits of pie in the process. “I'd have had you declared clinically insane!” she rasped, struggling to regain her composure.
Gaila thumped her heartily on the back, grinning broadly.
'Captain James T. Kirk'
If there was one situation Nyota had never envisioned for her future in Starfleet it was being assigned to the Federation's sparkling new flagship as Chief Communications Officer on her very first assignment, serving under that brazen Riverside townie whose attempts to pick her up, while stereotypically pathetic, had been just amusing enough to count as annoying rather than outright offensive.
Oh, she had come to understand fairly quickly that Kirk was intelligent, genius-level intelligent despite his continuous efforts to proof the contrary. Intelligent enough to back up his arrogant claim of finishing the academy in three years instead of the usual four. She didn't doubt his mind (too much), and incredible as it may be, after the Narada's destruction she saw the potential in him, the qualities of a leader – she'd have to be blind not to, even if he didn't strike her as much of a team player back at the academy. What she did doubt (occasionally) was his sanity and the fact that the boy (yes, boy!) was twenty-five years old and acting even younger more often than not.
“Chief Communications Officer.”
She let the rank roll over her tongue, still experimentally, not yet used to the very idea of it, casting thoughts of the annoying brat who now called himself 'Captain' from her mind for the time being.
“Honestly, I don't know whether to be proud or terrified of the prospect!”
“Be both!” her Orion friend told her, still grinning. “You do have reason for both!”
“Not helping, Gaila,” Nyota snorted.
It was intimidating in any case, but she and Kirk hadn't been the only cadets who had been promoted early to positions that should have been well beyond their reach had Starfleet not been hard pressed for officers. Nero's wrath had left its mark not only on the Vulcan survivors.
Of course, she had had her ambitions. Nyota prided herself in being the best language expert Starfleet had seen since the days of Hoshi Sato – a fact, as numerous of her old instructors had assured her, not an exaggeration, and she didn't brag outrageously but it was her accomplishment and she deserved some pride and respect for it. Ever since she had decided to join Starfleet she had expected to be climbing the ranks quickly, worked hard to meet her own expectations, and yes, she wanted to become the youngest Chief of Communications up to date.
But still.
Chief Communications Officer on the Enterprise...
“'Captain' James Tiberius Kirk,” she muttered, disbelief still coloring her voice.
“The universe is doomed,” Gaila agreed brightly.
oOo
Becoming friends with the very same drunken, arrogant would-be-suitor from over three years ago who was now officially her captain was something Nyota would never have even considered in the past.
Kirk was amusing in small doses, annoying the days she had to share more than two classes with him and utterly, utterly intolerable in large quantities. She had absolutely no idea how Dr. McCoy put up with him.
It happened so gradually she never even saw it coming until...
--- “So I just have to bow when I enter the king's hall and remember my 'Please and Thank You's, right?”
They were sitting in the mess hall early one morning, waiting for Spock and McCoy to join them for breakfast, while going over this week's species' peculiarities one last time before their audience with the planet's ruler.
Some time during the last four months Nyota had taken to briefing the captain about language and customs of the various people they encountered face to face rather than just flinging a data padd his way. It wasn't that Kirk didn't take his responsibilities seriously, as so many had feared when he had first been given the Enterprise. But he had a tendency to skip over entire paragraphs when he was particularly busy, and Nyota had found that he rarely ignored information she made a point of telling him in person.
“Don't forget to address him as 'Heaven-sent' or at the very least 'Your highness,' and under no circumstances - ”
She trailed off when she noticed that Kirk's attention had wandered. To Gaila's long green legs and perky behind that was just barely covered by the indecently short red engineering uniform as the Orion officer strolled by their table on her way to the replicators. Nyota had no doubt that her former roommate had somehow managed to tamper with the design of the regulation skirt to meet her personal approval, just as she had no delusions that that extra sway to her hips while she was passing them by was anything but deliberate. As far as she knew, Gaila and Kirk hadn't... shared quarters since stepping on board the Enterprise, but both of them liked to flirt. A lot.
Annoyed, working on much less caffeine than she would have liked for this time of day, Nyota did what she always did back home when one of her younger brothers or cousins was behaving particularly obstinate.
She delivered a sharp slap to the back of Kirk's head and snapped, “Focus, Jim!”
Whipping his head around, one hand unconsciously going for the sore spot on his head, Jim stared at her incredulously. Nyota felt her own eyes widen in mortification, mouth working to stammer out an apology, but before any sound made it past her lips, he told her very seriously, “You do that in front of King Louis down there and I'll have you scrub the latrines. With your own toothbrush!”
“I believe that has not been an acceptable punishment for several hundred years, Captain,” a smooth voice saved her from stuttering an indignant comeback, and Spock slid into the seat next to her, setting his breakfast tray in front of him.
“Yeah, well, if I have to take abuse from you guys, the least I deserve is a way to retaliate in kind.”
“What are you talking about, Jim?” McCoy now interjected, taking his seat to the captain's right. “You know what they say about desperate times and desperate measures, and you being distracted by a short skirt? Definitely desperate times!”
Warm fingertips touched her hand in greeting while doctor and captain succumbed to their usual bickering and Nyota smiled at Spock.
And, hey, if no one else seemed to make a big deal out of this...
“Can we get back to the proper conduct in court now, please? Because if you forget that you're not allowed to smile in the presence of 'His Heaven-Sent Lordship' you may just be fed to their equivalent of alligators for the insult.” ---
...until well after the fact.
And that, as they say, had been that.
oOo
Four months into Enterprise's first five year mission the excitement over graduation, their new posting, of surviving at all had quieted down considerably. And although no one could claim life under the young, immature, slightly insane captain of the ship was ever truly boring – or at least, not for any significant amount of time – the crew had established their various quirks and routines.
Scotty adamantly denied running a still in one of the lesser used rooms of engineering, yet hooch from that very same non-existent still kept appearing throughout the ship, hastily hidden away whenever the First Officer happened to pass by. While Spock was by no means as oblivious to what was going on as the crew liked to think, Nyota was surprised to find that he took his pointers in this regard from the captain.
“A little insubordination is good for the soul, and as long as it ends there and doesn't disrupt ship workings, I don't see any reason to spoil their fun, Mr. Spock. Plus, I get my share of that non-existent moonshine when I play hard to get for whatever modifications Scotty wants to implement next.”
Instead of lecturing the captain on protocol and contraband or even just doing that little quirk of his eyebrows that counted for a blatant frown of disapproval from him, Spock merely raised one elegant dark brow the way he did when he encountered a particularly interesting scientific experiment.
Nyota might have thought she had imagined the twitch of his lips and the glint of amusement in the dark Vulcan eyes, if it didn't happen more and more often where Jim Kirk's particular brand of logic was concerned. She knew then and there that, for all their differences and their entirely abysmal first few encounters she bore witness to the beginnings of the sort of friendship that would be talked about for generations to come.
Considering Jim's reputation (and she was starting to think it wasn't entirely deserved – Jim loved to flirt, yes, but she hadn't seen him do more than that yet), it took Nyota an awfully long time to notice the looks the captain sent after her boyfriend when he believed himself unobserved. It threw her for a loop for some time. Ever since that first day of their acquaintance, Kirk had been trying to sweet-talk Nyota. Although she knew that Kirk didn't really discriminate in who he bestowed his attention upon, it was a funny feeling, knowing he now wanted her boyfriend instead.
Jealousy, or at least an unreasonable amount of it, wasn't one of her vices, and despite sometimes wishing Spock could be more outspoken in his affection for her, she felt secure in her relationship with her Vulcan lover. Still, some part of her wasn't able to let the issue go unspoken.
So, the next time she caught Kirk staring after Spock, she didn't pretend she hadn't seen anything. The three of them were in the mess hall again, sitting in the far away corner that had been declared the captain's de facto ready room simply by the virtue of being used for far too many impromptu staff meetings. They were going over reports together as it had become habit when the science department had requested Spock's presence. When Kirk turned around to go back to work, he caught her dark gaze, and had she had any doubts about Kirk's attraction, the sudden flush to his face would have been evidence enough.
Discomfort written all over his face, he rubbed the back of his neck in an unconscious, nervous gesture and started, “So, what do you...”
Nyota interrupted his meek attempt at distraction and told him firmly, “I swear to God, Kirk, if you so much as think about...”
“No!” The denial came quick, offended, and – most of all – honest. “I may be a jerk, Uhura, but I'm not that kind of jerk.” The hurt expression on his face suddenly made her wish she had let sleeping dogs lie. Her accusation had obviously stung, she could tell that much. “I don't go around ruining my friends' relationships.”
And now she really felt bad.
“I know.” It was the truth, Nyota suddenly realized. She wouldn't have believed it a few months ago, but she had come to know him better by now. They all had. Dr. McCoy's unflinching loyalty wasn't such a mystery anymore.
“I'm sorry.” Now those were words she never expected to say to him. “Call it my inner Neanderthal, but I just had to make sure.”
The quick, wicked smile he sent her way had Nyota rolling her eyes at him again. Some things just never changed. Thank God for that.
oOo
Nyota didn't think of that conversation again until the time, about a year into their voyage, that Spock and she decided to part ways. It was a nice, dispassionate euphemism for something that tore at her heart like barbed wire. Oh, how she wished she could blame Kirk (or anyone else for that matter) for stealing Spock away from her. The truth, however, was both simpler and far more defeating.
“Uhura?” a voice intruded on her moment of self-pity. Jim's electric blue eyes were suddenly in her line of view, flickering between Nyota and the several bowls of ice-cream spread in a half-circle on the table in front of her for easy reach. The mess hall was empty except for the two of them, ship-night having advanced well into gamma-shift.
“Everything alright?”
She opened her mouth to reply that she was fine, just fine, and could he please mind his own damn business for once, but what she found herself saying instead was, “I broke up with Spock.”
Because, no, nothing was alright, and this was exactly the reason she had no one but herself to blame. She was the one who had given them up.
“You what?”
Had she been in a better mood, Jim's dumbstruck expression would have been funny. She didn't get to see him like this often enough.
As he invited himself to sit at her table, cradling a steaming mug of coffee in his hands, she wiped a hand over her damp cheeks and reached for the bowl of cookie dough ice cream. “You heard me.”
Several minutes passed in silence, and while Nyota might have preferred to be left in peace when she first sought refuge in the mess hall and several hundred calories worth of sweets, Jim's unusual speechlessness was unnerving.
“You're staring, Jim,” she finally mumbled around a spoonful of ice cream she didn't even taste.
“I'm sorry, it's just -” Why? It was the question she expected, feared even, because despite all odds Jim had grown into Spock's closest confidant, and she didn't want to get blamed for something she was already tearing herself up over enough.
Apprehension morphed into a small burst of fondness when Jim asked, “Do I need to beat him up?”
“No,” she replied with a shaky smile. “It wasn't his fault.”
His brows drew together as he glared at her in mocking threat. “Do I need to beat you up?”
The question surprised a laugh out of her this time, but the amusement quickly trickled away. “Maybe.”
Pausing a moment, Jim looked intently at her, then asked quietly, “What happened, Nyota?”
After over a year under his command, more than that, as his friend, the genuine concern didn't come as much of a surprise anymore, but Nyota found herself so grateful for it she couldn't even voice her usual complaints about his use of her first name.
“Nothing happened,” she sighed at long last, pushing the now empty bowl away from her. Now that she noticed its five equally empty brethren, she felt vaguely nauseous. “It's just--” struggling to explain she tried, “You know how human women always complain about men's inability to talk about their feelings, what they're going through at any given time?”
“Actually, I think that played a large part in Bones's divorce,” Jim commented, and she snorted.
“Well, amplify that by half-Vulcan DNA and...” she stopped, took a deep breath. “I never thought I'd be one of those women who can't accept their partner's personality! I thought I knew what I was getting myself into!” Frustratingly, the issue wasn't even the big cultural differences. It was the little things that finally got to her, to both of them. Holding hands in public; casually leaning against each other when they weren't on duty; public displays of affection when there wasn't a life-or-death situation spurring them on.
“I know he loves me, and I know he's trying! God knows I've been trying, but...”
She couldn't continue, choking up again as she was despite all efforts not to break down in front of her captain.
“But it just wasn't enough,” Jim completed her sentence. Wordlessly she nodded. “It happens, Nyota. It's awful, and it hurts like hell, but it happens.”
A warm hand hesitantly reached for hers and she gratefully latched onto the offered comfort. She didn't want his hugs, didn't need his pity, but a bit of skin-to-skin contact didn't go amiss right now.
“Sometimes, I'm jealous of you, you know?” Nyota felt him flinch, but she didn't mean it as an accusation.
“What for?”
“You can read him so easily, even when he doesn't want to be read. It feels like I'm always fumbling around in the dark.”
“Yeah, well. I have a bit of an unfair advantage.”
“No,” Nyota shook her head. “Ambassador Spock talks to me too. You two just – click, I guess. You did even when you couldn't stand each other.”
From the very beginning Jim had that uncanny ability to push all of Spock's so carefully concealed buttons, and Nyota would be lying if she claimed she didn't resent that just a bit.
“I'm sorry.”
“Don't be. It's not your fault.” It really wasn't. Moreover, though, she didn't want to be the bitter ex who wasn't able to look at either of them with anything but resentment in her heart. She was resolved to be gracious over her loss. She was a strong woman, she wouldn't let this break her. Well. Maybe a little. But like broken bones, her heart would mend, and she'd be stronger for it.
“It's no one's fault,” Nyota whispered decisively, needing to reassure Jim as much as herself. She let go of his hand, but when he made to rise, she stopped him.
“Do me a favor, Jim?”
“What kind of favor?”
Taking a deep, steadying breath, she asked, “Be there for him. I can't right now, and you're the closest friend he's ever had. He won't show it, but he's hurting too.” Of that much she was sure, or the last two years would have been nothing but a farce.
“What about you?” Jim asked, and Nyota smiled, wan but honest, remembering how she had once thought him to be an insensitive, arrogant womanizer concerned with no one but himself.
“I foresee lots of girls'-nights-in with Gaila and Christine in my future. Maybe the odd poker game and drunken binge with Scotty and McCoy.”
Which was to say she had her fair share of shoulders to lean on. Spock only really had the one, at least for a while.
There was a fond warmth in Jim's eye that she didn't get to see often enough when he scrutinized her. “You're a good friend, Nyota Uhura. Spock's lucky to have you.”
Swallowing around the lump in her throat, she replied, “Back at ya.”
When he stood up this time to finally head to his quarters, Nyota contemplated the dirty bowls in front of her, noticing with some astonishment that, for all that she was still hurting, she felt calmer than she had ever since leaving Spock's cabin this evening.
Then, a thought occurred to her.
“Jim?” she stopped him once again, just as he reached the door. “What are you doing in the mess hall this late?”
“Oh.” Jim huffed a quiet laugh and held up his forgotten mug of coffee. “My replicator broke. I figured it was safer for my health to use the ones in here instead of disturbing Scotty at this hour.”
He threw her a careless salute over his shoulder before the doors hissed shut behind him.
oOo
Considering she had all but given Jim her permission to pursue Spock, it surprised Uhura when, almost four months later, Spock joined her at her table during lunch to observe (what she would have called casually, if Vulcans ever did anything casually), “I admit to finding myself surprised that the captain has yet to succeed in convincing you to share his bed. You do seem rather fond of him.”
“Me?” The pitch of her voice rose alongside her incredulity. “Me? Spock, he doesn't want to sleep with me. Nor I with him,” she added, almost as an afterthought.
“He flirts with you incessantly,” Spock pressed, and something in his voice made her pause.
“Yes,” Nyota agreed easily. “He flirts. Incessantly, as you said. But then he flirts with inanimate objects just for the heck of it.”
She really wished it was just an exaggeration too...
--- Shore leave on Risa, eight months ago
The 'Transporter' was loud, filled to the roof due to its popularity with Starfleet personnel and sported a theme to go along with the bar's name. Small vehicles from across the galaxy, most of them considered antiques, were scattered across the room, proudly presented in inlaid niches along the walls, just above most patrons' heads.
Nyota was on her way to join Gaila and the rest of the girls when she heard it.
“Hello, sweetheart!” The voice was well-known and oozed with the sort of charm that made any self-respecting woman want to smash her fist into the nose belonging to the speaker. When she turned around, though, to give her captain a piece of her mind, she found him staring at an old lime green motorized bicycle from Earth, the lettering on its side proclaiming it a 'Kawasaki Ninja.'
“What's a beautiful girl like you doing in a place like this?”
Dr. McCoy who, as usual, stood at Kirk's shoulder, appeared about as unimpressed as Nyota herself.
“It's a motorbike, Jim,” he commented dry as dirt. Kirk just shot him a glare, quickly fixing his attention back on the bike.
“Don't listen to him, baby! Bones just doesn't know how to appreciate your beauty.” It was then that McCoy noticed her standing there staring at the display, and the two of them shared an incredulous look. “A bit of grease, a few adjustments, and you'll be good as new.”
And even though the doctor rolled his eyes in exasperation at his friend, that very same motorbike somehow found its way into the Enterprise's hangar deck two days later. ---
“...anyway.” Nyota shook her head to dispel the memories. “I in his bed? Not going to happen.”
Spock's expression didn't change, but she had the distinct impression her answer had pleased him in some way. It was not only a little ironic that she could read him easier now that she wasn't as emotionally invested in him.
The first month after their separation had been rough, she wouldn't pretend otherwise. But over the course of the last few weeks they had managed to establish a companionship that wasn't exactly easy yet, but well on its way there. It had been important both for the sake of their crew mates as well as their own, and Nyota was relieved of this development; she had never wanted to lose him completely.
Still, sometimes she felt a twinge of bitterness, wished she had learned to read him like this in time to salvage their relationship. And sometimes, when the captain was standing at Spock's shoulder to look at some read-out from his First Officer's station, disregarding any concepts of personal space as usual, and instead of tensing up, Spock would lean even closer, that old jealousy reared its ugly head.
Which was all the more reason to wonder why Jim hadn't acted on any attraction for his First at all. Not that he wasn't flirting with Spock. But then, it had been established a long time ago that flirting was his favorite pastime. Nyota would have accepted the possibility that, maybe, it had all been just a passing fancy on Jim's part if she didn't still catch those lingering glances he thought he hid so well. Only now they were tinged with a strange wistfulness Nyota didn't know what to make of.
“Now that I think about it,” she continued thoughtfully, forefinger of her right hand tipping against her lower lip, “I don't think anyone besides Gaila has managed to talk themselves into his bed lately.”
The nod of satisfaction Spock gave her was so small she wouldn't have caught it if she hadn't been looking for it. Suddenly suspicious, Nyota couldn't help but tease, “And why are you suddenly so interested in who our illustrious captain sleeps with?”
There was a chance she had read this wrong. Spock might have been trying to inquire about Nyota's love life, but she doubted it. It wasn't that he didn't care about her anymore. But since their parting he had never shown the slightest hint of jealousy whenever she now flirted with someone.
“I was merely curious,” Spock deflected with his usual air of aloofness. Nyota, however, didn't miss the faint greenish blush rising in his cheeks. “He did have a certain reputation at Starfleet Academy, or so I was given to understand.”
Which might or might not have something to do with why they were having this particular conversation.
“Yeah,” Nyota sighed, absently pushing vegetables across her plate. “He's grown up a lot since then.” If he ever really was that bad, she thought.
Watching Spock neatly cutting his food in bite-sized pieces, Nyota wondered if the Vulcan realized exactly what he had just given away.
oOo
“Oh, you gotta be kidding me!”
The sudden exclamation right above her left ear made her jump, but as Nyota turned around to see McCoy plunking himself down next to her, she smiled wryly, completely agreeing with the sentiment.
Pointing his glass of sweet tea in the direction where Jim had just left the mess, Spock staring after him, an unusually pronounced, unsettled frown on his face before following the captain, the doctor went on, “This isn't just pathetic anymore, it's disgusting!”
“So you've noticed it too?” Nyota asked. It was a rhetorical question, really, McCoy being who he was to Jim Kirk, but the man answered all the same.
“Please! It's not as if they're being particularly subtle about it, whatever they like to think. In fact, the only ones who haven't noticed at this point, as far as I can tell, are Jim and the Vulcan respectively.”
He smiled in surprised delight when that earned him a loud guffaw.
“Why hasn't Jim made his move yet?” Nyota finally asked the question she had wanted answered for the past eight months now, McCoy being the one person who might actually have that answer for her. “He isn't usually this shy about getting what he wants.”
She just had to think of that neon green motorbike stowed away somewhere in the ship's guts.
Sighing heavily, McCoy took a sip of his drink. “Because of you, actually. Partly.”
Noticing her shocked look, he went on to explain, “He likes you, Lieutenant. A great deal. And he respects you even more.” That revelation shouldn't have come as the surprise it did. “He didn't want to appear like an insensitive bastard by taking advantage of your loss, he didn't want to take advantage of Spock in an emotionally compromised state, and by the time any 'taking advantage of' wouldn't have been an issue anymore, he's convinced himself he wouldn't stand a chance with Spock anyway, and never mind the old man's spiel about destiny.”
Laughter bubbled up in Nyota's throat once again, hearing the doctor's exasperated diatribe on his friend's insecurities.
“I as good as gave him my blessings,” Nyota confessed lightheartedly. “Repeatedly. Gave it to Spock too. I even offered to teach Jim Vulcan in the hopes to speed things along, but he just looked at me like I was crazy.”
It was McCoy's turn to chuckle, and the rough, gravely sound hit Nyota right between the legs, stirring up fantasies she hadn't let herself indulge in when she had still been with their Vulcan First Officer.
“Jim already knows Vulcan,” he explained. “He learned it off-world when he was a kid.”
Shaking his head with a frown, he ventured, “I guess it has as much to do with him not wanting to alienate you as with his experiences with long-term relationships. Yours was actually the healthiest one he's ever witnessed.”
His frown deepened suddenly, realizing he had said too much, and Nyota found with surprise she had no trouble reading him.
“Don't worry,” she assured him. “I know how to keep a secret.”
McCoy nodded, but said, “It's not my secret to tell, though.”
“I know. But it's not as if I haven't done my own guesswork.”
He looked at her sharply, before nodding again a moment later.
“Anyway,” he brusquely moved on, “if you want to do us all a favor, you better convince your star-crossed Vulcan to make the first move. And tell him to make it obvious! Jim's notion of subtlety seems to involve bringing the battering ram to the back door lately...”
There was something to be said for the doctor's dry humor. “I'll see what I can do,” she grinned.
“Thank you, Lieutenant!”
“Nyota,” she corrected impulsively, watching in amusement as McCoy's eyebrow climbed almost to his hairline. “It's Nyota, Doc.”
“Bones,” he replied in kind, then stopped realizing which name he'd given her and frowned in consternation. “Ah, what the hell! Just... go ahead and call me Bones. Can't win against fools...” he grumbled, before her bright laughter made the smile reappear on his face.
“You know, for a long time I thought if anyone managed to tie Jim down, it would be you.”
“Me?” McCoy barked a surprised laugh. “Hell no! Herding cats is easier than keeping up with him. The Commander is more than welcome to try. Don't get me wrong, I love the kid, but honestly, he's the little brother I never wanted.”
“I think I know what you mean.”
Recalling how her own friendship with Jim had evolved, Nyota thought McCoy's comparison had nailed it quite perfectly.
“So, tell me, Bones,” she asked mischievously, for the first time in months feeling carefree again. “Is it true?”
“Is what true?” McCoy asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“You and Jim. Did you, or did you not ever sleep with him.”
“That, my dear Nyota,” he smirked, “is for me to know and you to never find out.”
She would let him get away with that for now, she decided. Jim Kirk wasn't the only one who thrived on a good challenge.
About a week later, after a long conversation with her former lover, Spock's famous Vulcan patience finally, finally ran out and he followed an entirely human tradition and kissed Jim in the middle of the mess hall. Nyota was right there besides Bones, cat-calling and wolf-whistling and grinning from ear to ear with the rest of the present crew.
~ The End