Author's Notes: This story is part of my "Half-Vulcan Way of Life" series and is set after "Fever When You Kiss Me".

Till Death Do Us Part

2265.105

Spock relaxed on his couch, PADD in his hand. He was lying on his back, his head pillowed by his wife's lap. She was gently stroking his hair and ears with one hand, while in the other she worked on calculations for her subspace communications relay.

Spock was engrossed in his own research. The Enterprise was going to be passing by a rare interstellar phenomena within the next few days. He wanted to have his calibrations to correct in order to record it.

Nyota's fingers were trailing over the point of his ear pleasantly. Spock let out a low grumble of contentment. He paused in his reading to glance up at her. While she still held her PADD, she was far more focused on his face. "I can sense you, adun'a. What is troubling you?"

Her mouth was curved down in a thoughtful frown. "Do you think you'll get remarried?"

Spock's eyebrow rose. He sat up, surprised by her query. He set his PADD aside, before taking hers from her and setting it down. He took hold of both of her hands, stroking her fingers gently. "We have only been married two months. Are you tired of me already?"

Nyota shook her head, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry. No. It was a silly question. Just forget it."

Spock sensed it was not something silly in Nyota's mind. He pulled her into his arms, resting her head upon his chest. "Nyota, please tell me. Why would you ask me about remarrying?"

Her body tucked in against his. One hand gently stroked over his chest. "Well. Vulcans live a very long time. Humans do not live as long. You haven't thought about this?"

"No," Spock said quickly. He reached down and cupped Nyota's face. "I have married my K'hat'n'dlawa. I cannot imagine a life when I would take another wife. I do not want you to think of it either."

Nyota sighed and gave Spock a tender look. "I didn't mean to upset you, honey. But isn't it logical to think about the future?"

"You are my future." Spock pulled Nyota into his lap, wrapping his arms around her. "The idea of living without you overwhelms any sense of logic. It is true Vulcans live longer than humans. But I am not a fully Vulcan. My elder self died of natural causes at one hundred and sixty two. That is young for a Vulcan. It is also not unreasonable for a human to live to that length. Admiral Archer is one hundred and fifty and he still makes life miserable for Cadets. He has barely slowed down."

Nyota actually smiled and Spock felt the warmth through their bond. He breathed in her scent. "I do not know how long I will live. My path may differ from my elder self. Nor do I have any concept of how long you will live. We could live to be a thousand or we could die tomorrow. But I know... Without you, I would be bereft. I had no plans to open my heart to anyone before you. If something were to happen to you, I would take no other mate."

Slender fingers brushed against Spock's. "What about the Pon Farr? If I died tomorrow, you'd be in trouble seven years from now."

"I would meditate to break the Plak Tow," Spock replied. "And if such actions did not work, it would mean that I am not meant to live without you, Nyota. Already I do not know if I would survive. I lost my world once. And what you are asking me is to imagine a scenario where I lose my world all over again. I cannot believe that I would survive such a devastating event. The pain would be unbearable for me."

"Sometimes my thoughts just get away from me." Nyota cupped Spock's face, kissing him tenderly. "Has anyone ever told you that you were quite the romantic?"

"One person," Spock replied.

"Only one?" Nyota's expression relaxed and he could feel the tension leave his wife.

Spock nodded. "Yes. The most intelligent person I know. She does, however, let her thoughts get away from her sometimes."

Nyota sighed. "I wonder what she should do to remedy that."

Spock kissed her deeply. "I would suggest vigorous physical activity that clears the mind."

2365.44

Captain Picard stood next to Commander Riker, waiting for the Ambassador to arrive on the transporter pad. They both wore their dress uniform, red tunics with gold trim around the high collars.

"I remember studying the old missions," Riker said to Picard. "The encounter with Nero, defeating Khan Noonien Singh, finding the Franklin... I'd love to have the chance to ask the Ambassador about them."

"There will be time for that, Number One," Picard replied. "Chief O'Brien, is there a problem?"

O'Brien fiddled with the controls. "I'm picking up some interference. Harmless, but I'll need to beam the Ambassador's entourage in one-by-one."

"Make it so, Chief," Picard replied.

O'Brien began the process of reconstituting the buffer pattern. A figure appeared on the pad, a tall, wrinkled Vulcan with salt and pepper hair.

Picard took a step towards him. "Ambassador Spock." He held up his hand in the Vulcan greeting. "You weren't the Ambassador we were expecting."

"Captain Picard," Ambassador Spock replied, mirroring the hand gesture. "Please... It's just Mister Spock."

He stepped off the pad and O'Brien went to work on the next transporter signal. "I believe here's the Ambassador now," Mister Spock said, flourishing a hand. "Captain Picard, may I present the Ambassador to New Vulcan..."

The figure that materialized was beautiful despite her very advanced age. Her medium length hair was completely silver. The expression on Mister Spock's face belied his Vulcan heritage. "And she-who-is my wife, Ambassador Nyota Grayson-Uhura."

The two Ambassadors touched index and middle fingers. Ambassador Grayson-Uhura leaned in towards Mister Spock. "I think you arranged that interference so you could give me a grand entrance."

"Every entrance you make is grand, K'diwa," Mister Spock replied.

Riker took a step forward. "Ambassador Spock, Ambassador Grayson-Uhura..."

"Just Mister Spock," Mister Spock insisted. "When my wife's skills are called upon, she is the Ambassador. When mine are, I am. This was our condition when the Federation requested our services."

Ambassador Grayson-Uhura touched his cheek. "You never did like spending a day apart." She turned her attention to Picard and Riker. "Now let me look at you..."

Her eyes drifted towards the hem of their tunics. "My uniform used to be shorter than your shirts."

Mister Spock hummed. "Those were the days."

"Oh?" Ambassador Grayson-Uhura tilted her head. "Were they now?"

"You had very aesthetically pleasing legs." There was a twinkle in his eyes. "You still do." He took hold of her arm.

"We do apologize for calling you here," Riker said. "We know it's your anniversary tomorrow."

"Oh, don't worry. I'll deal with this negotiation with the Romulans." Ambassador Grayson-Uhura smiled. "And have time to spend my anniversary on the Enterprise." She touched her husband's hand. "After all, that's where we spent our first honeymoon."

Mister Spock nodded. "An appropriate time to have a second."

Ambassador Grayson-Uhura leaned towards her husband. "Happy Anniversary, Honey."

Mister Spock leaned in and kissed her on the lips. "May we have a hundred more."

Author's Notes: I came up with this story when I realized that both McCoy and Archer were portrayed/mentioned as being active for about as long as Ambassador Spock lived. Even Picard is still kicking ass well into his nineties. The potential lifespan of humans is a bit vague in Star Trek. So I wanted to portray Spock and Uhura as getting a long life together.

So I know that in the Kelvinverse, things in the TNG era SHOULD be different (and we saw in Q Gambit they were, but I take that as a POTENTIAL future)... But I figure there was probably Q interference, because you KNOW he would want to make sure that all of his favourite toys (and his boyfriend) were just as he remembered them. So there is probably some differences... I might cover that someday... But for now, they are as portrayed.