Cadet Uhura stared down at the hand which had so recently held a bite a food she's intended to consume. The wrist attached to that hand was still trapped within the firm hold of Lt. Spock's fingers. The thumb attached to that hand still felt the phantom touch of the lieutenant's tongue.

Although a slew of thoughts and questions barraged her mind, she found herself incapable of speech. She raised her eyes to his, hoping her unspoken plea would be translated there. As she wasn't certain what exactly it was that she wanted, she rather thought she might be out of luck.

Spock saw the confusion so plainly evident on the cadet's face. He'd also heard the small, sharp inhalation she'd made when his tongue had slipped over her thumb, but he could not bring himself to regret his actions. That last morsel truly had tasted better than the ones he eaten with knife and fork and spoon. He did, however, release her wrist.

"My apologies, Cadet," he said, deciding it would be wise, at this time, to refrain from discussing what he had done. "I believe I have deprived you of part of your dinner. I will, of course, be happy to replace it with a portion of my own meal."

Employing only swiftly efficient motions, he scooped a bit of lentils, applied it to a section of the bread on his plate, that neatly sliced off the portion and speared it with his fork.

"If you please, Cadet," he said, "I would like to make amends."

A/N: And that's all folks! Although I have bowed under the pressure of your requests this time, I won't revisit this fic in this universe.

I'd say "Sorry if this isn't what you were hoping for," but would be a lie. (I'm reveling in the frustration I imagine some of you might be feeling. Muhahahaha!)

Actually, though, this is the only ending that fits the story, I firmly believe. Cheers.

T.