A/N: If you're still reading don't forget to review-only two parts left to go now. Thanks for your support.

Impasse Pt. 2 immediately follows this chapter, if you miss the romance, btw.

ko-fu=daughter

Healers

Months later, she would wonder what would've happened if the transmission to the Vulcan woman had been completed. If anything she learned from her at that point might've changed how it all turned out in the end.

For the moment, however, the only thing she could hope to do was filter most of the curses which threatened to fly as Kirk and Leonard strolled into her quarters-without request or previous notice, with no warning whatsoever.

It would be their fourth unannounced visit that day.

o

Uhura hit the disconnect on the comm unit.

"The hell, Kirk!" she hissed, swiftly pulling the belt on her short robe into a tighter knot.

"Since when did my residence become public domain? Why don't you save yourself the trouble and just install a few surveillance cameras instead?"

"I was right," Kirk said to the man beside him with a crooked grin, "she definitely missed us."

"I don't recall repeated breaking and entering being apart of standard protocol," Uhura went on, though per usual, the venom laced through her tone had no effect at all on the young Captain's impervious demeanor. She silently glared as Kirk easily deposited himself in her recliner while simultaneously pulling a fleet-issued mini PADD from his pocket.

"Maybe you should revisit your enlistment contract, Lieutenant," he said to her. "Section 7: Article 3.8. You'd be surprised just how much leeway my position gives me in that regard."

Looking to Leonard for any sign that he'd back her up had been a mistake-his expression conveyed more than words ever could.

Officially overruled.

"Well? Come here, woman so we can get this check-up over with. For now."

"Hold on."

Uhura swiveled on the balls of her feet, her thick braid swaying against her back as she started towards the tiny kitchenette. She reached for a bottle of aged bourbon-a hilariously typical birthday gift from Scotty-before remembering the cocktail of painkillers Leonard had insisted on prescribing her. Definitely not a good mix.

"You two ruin everything," she loudly commented, filling a glass of water from the tap.

A short chuckle, then she heard Kirk call from behind her, "Don't sound so scandalized, Lieutenant. The sole condition of your release from the med bay was total bedrest, which you agreed to...and incidentally does NOT include boozing, complaining, or standing for extending periods of time-"

"-and in case I didn't make this clear on our last visit," McCoy interrupted less than a foot from where she stood, having followed her every step like a living shadow, "I'm not averse to imposing an indefinite leave of absence on you."

Uhura froze mid-sip.

"For a fractured arm, Leonard?"

"No! For that bizarre coma that had nothing to do with your physical injury and took the Commander the second he touched you. If it wasn't for Nurse Chapel you both might still be on life support." McCoy seemed to wait until she dared glance at him again. This time, his frown did nothing to disguise the worry beneath it.

"I can admit when I'm in over my head. You should feel lucky I haven't already shipped you to SF Medical to find out what's really going on. You and that logical, tight-lipped bastard."

Uhura felt the heat burning in her chest rise to her face as she turned the faucet off, the frustration with their constant invasions giving way as she contemplated what he'd just told her.

If he was saying what she thought he was, she'd been very wrong; he and Kirk hadn't made some misguided, misogynistic pact with Spock to withhold the true extent of her injuries from her. Most likely neither officer knew why Spock had deemed it necessary to sever all contact from her, nor would they have any idea of the way it had affected their empathetic bond; a bond virtually no one aboard the ship knew of.

The only thing to conclude was that they were just as in the dark about Spock's state of mind as she was.

She sagged slightly against the counter. Denying him the right to process his emotions however he needed to was something she would never do. Yet in her own medicated fog of fatigue and confusion, it had only just occurred to her that Spock's evasion with the Captain and CMO of their ship was twofold.

His unnatural silence wasn't simply leading their superiors to believe he was unfit for duty, but had left them in a position in which it they had to assume she was still in real danger. It was as if he'd wanted them to watch over her like a hawk.

Uhura's head throbbed as she stared into the gleaming, empty metal basin of the sink.

"You honestly think I'm too fragile to make a comm call?" she wondered out loud.

"Maybe not. I don't know," McCoy shrugged.

With this, he ambled over to her desk, detached the comm unit from its dock and removed its memory, rendering it useless.

"The Commander and his Vulcan healer seem to think so."

Nearly dumbfounded, she stopped short of asking for an elaboration to look at Kirk, who was still lounging in her recliner, appearing as if he'd retreated into some sort of memory.

"What has Spock said to the two of you?" Uhura asked him.

He didn't answer immediately, instead choosing to make room for McCoy lay out a clean set of regenerative hypos on the narrow coffee table between them. Another reason she hated these visits; killing the pain with meds did nothing when you were forced to stare at gaping wounds where skin should be. It was nauseating.

"Come sit, Nyota," Kirk eventually said, to which she raised both eyebrows, too surprised at first to comply.

He never used her first name.

Apparently there actually was a first time for everything. While the doctor wordlessly examined her arm, Kirk told her what he knew.

o

The entrance to the quarters slid open without a sound, but Kirk still raised a hand to McCoy. Neither of them made a move from the doorway as they began to listen in on the quiet conversation within.

"...is the subconscious bond. Fueled solely by emotion, acknowledged or otherwise. Lethal to your logical and your sanity."

"I understand, T'Prel."

"Then, after nearly a year of indecision, you finally agree to permanent rectification. I can leave immediately."

A short hesitation, then so softly he almost couldn't be heard:

"...Rectification cannot be a unilateral decision. This will change her life as well."

"A given. Yet why do I suspect you believe she would favor your inherently illogical solution, Spock?"

"You will never know her as I do."

"Another given. Simply remember this: true Vulcan bonds must be consciously and carefully formed while both mates are in a healthy state of mind. There is no allowance for anything less, for anything less is infinite chaos. As you should know."

Spock said nothing.

"Your silence is telling. Perhaps you are recalling my ko-fu. The agony she endured because of your defect. Tell me, Spock. Could you risk inflicting the same agony upon-who are you?"

Everything she'd said had amounted to little understanding for Kirk, including the abrupt question that was no doubt directed towards him and McCoy. Even yards ways he had been stunned upon sight of the Vulcan on the wall-mounted comm screen.

Like Spock, her speech was precise to the point of academic, yet it wasn't the timbre of her voice that had struck him as so disarmingly familiar.

It was in the deep black of her onyx eyes, the subtle downturn of her lovely mouth.

She had a perfect face from a different lifetime...

"Jim!"

But the female Vulcan was now staring back at him, pointedly.

"Spock? Is your colleague incapable of communication?"

If the Commander shared her and Bones' blatant irritation with him, Kirk never would have known. Spock leveled his impassive gaze towards the entryway in which he stood with a single nod.

"Captain. Doctor," he led.

"Pardon the interruption, ma'am. I'm Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer of the Enterprise," Bones greeted, adding after a beat,"the mute one beside me is James Kirk, this vessel's Captain."

"I am healer T'Prel of the Vulcan colony So-Resh," the woman on-screen replied, then mechanically tilted her head to one side.

"Forgive me, doctor. I was unaware Spock's injuries predicated violation of his privacy."

Non-plussed, Bones left the entryway to walk closer to the mounted screen as he drawled, "No offense ma'am...but Spock has an obligation to himself and his duty to mend as quickly as possible. It's my responsibility to make sure that happens—privacy be damned!" He folded his hands behind his back, now standing directly beside Spock, whose formerly impenetrable gaze now held the barest hint of something like amusement.

"Now, I can't pretend to have any idea what you two were just discussing, but knowing our Commander the way we do I can only assume he just refused whatever help you're offering as well," Bones finished.

T'Prel appeared thoughtful. "Astutely put. Perhaps as his primary physician, you should be told of his-"

Her speech and image abruptly cut to a blank screen. The bare-chested, stone-faced Spock finally turned to face them fully after lifting his finger from the disconnect button.

"Perhaps while you conduct your examination, doctor, the Captain can notarize my official incident report. It is complete."

With this, Kirk felt his focus swiftly snap back into place.

"Whoa, hold on for a minute. You know we can't send anything to Command before the Lieutenant submits her portion." As he spoke, he strode further into the warm, darkened quarters until he could see the PADD lying abandoned on top of one charcoal gray sofa arm. He picked it up. "Unless she already sent it to you?"

"No. She did not."

Kirk looked from Spock, who simply stared back, down to the illuminated screen of the electronic report.

At first, as he read, what he saw there made him want to smile. The sentiment of this report had to be a joke, the result of some type of ultra-dry Vulcan humor. It was utterly incomprehensible that this could be serious-which of course was impossible, as there was little Spock took more seriously than his work.

Kirk cleared his throat. He noticed the way Bones was curiously glancing in his direction.

"Everything's fine. Keep going," he ordered.

The doctor pulled a set of tricorders from his bag and began inspecting Spock's biobrace's readings, working without further comment other than to ask, "Have you been taking those pain pills?"

"Unnecessary, as is your presence here. Meditation suffices."

"You agreed to sporadic monitoring if he released you from the med bay," Kirk countered, setting the PADD down on a desktop built into the north wall. The warm, spicy aroma of incense filled his nose as he came closer to its source-a thin burning reed from within an earthen bowl by the window opposite the desk. He took a deep breath; the effect was nothing like the damned burning plants on Tau Klith that had set this whole mess in motion. It immediately cleared his head.

"We're holding up our end of the bargain, like it or not," he finished.

"Your concern is not unappreciated, though it is quite disproportionate to the severity of my physical trauma."

Bones barked out a laugh as he tested the flexion of Spock's elbow.

"You were on death's door only 24 hours ago and we all know it had little, if anything to do with this. Unless you're ready to shed some insight on what the hell happened on that transporter pad?"

Spock lifted one upswept eyebrow, his eyes darkening as he looked away from the doctor. "Even if I was inclined to, I would not know where to begin."

"Of course you don't," Bones shot back.

"That's why you start at the beginning."

"Isn't that what you and that healer...T'Pring, were talking about?" Kirk pressed.

Spock went pale. "Captain, her name is T'Prel."

"Whatever. I'm not asking as your Captain, by the way," Kirk forged ahead. "All I know is that I'm willing to grant you and Uhura as much leave as you need to fix whatever's really going, no questions asked. Say the word."

Spock drew a slow breath, lips parting a fraction as he exhaled.

"Jim-"

The distinctive chime of the comm unit sounded twice, and the moment was broken. All three men looked to the screen, which displayed an address originating from somewhere on New Vulcan.

"My father's residence. I assume T'Prel has broken her silence on this matter."

He waited a moment for McCoy to finish re-securing the setting of his brace, then turned his back on them both to face the still-chiming unit once more. Then he repeated, "Your concern is not unappreciated, though I would rather you turn your efforts to Lieutenant Uhura. She is not resting properly."

Kirk saw McCoy's eyes narrow as he folded his arms over his chest.

"You say that like you know it for a fact. Have you seen her?"

Spock's already fair skin flushed a sallow green, his gaze drifting towards the same earthen bowl curls of incense smoke dispersed from. The angles of his face softened a mere fraction in the dim light.

"Seeing Lieutenant Uhura would be a highly illogical course of action," he calmly stated, still ignoring his father's call,

"Considering the mere thought sickens me."

o

"And that's when I brought up what I'd read from that report. He proposed the deal right after. Tell her, Bones."

But she didn't want to hear any more.

"Len, please-"

"Trust me hon... I think you'll want to hear this."

Uhura forced herself to do that as McCoy gently tested the sensitivity of her fingertips and continued where Kirk had left off.

"Turns out the bulk of that report was a thinly veiled threat to have you court martialed for disobeying his direct orders on Tau Klith. Even if we believed he had any intention of submitting that nonsense-which we don't-he knew we couldn't deny the truth in what he'd written. But here's the kick: he agreed to destroy it on the spot if I promised Jim and I would check on you constantly, just like we have been. It's all he wanted."

In a sweet, somewhat twisted way, didn't it make sense? So why didn't the confirmation of his concern make her feel any better?

Because, in any case, the thought of me makes him ill.

It was pointless to even try, but if there were ever a time to try to vicariously get drunk; this was it.

"Excuse me," Uhura whispered, rising with a poise she wasn't even close to feeling. She returned to the kitchenette to retrieve two clean glasses as well as the bottle of bourbon before completing the circle back into her living area.

"I read over the full investigations report earlier today. I asked Ensign Gui to forward me a copy from the comm lab," Uhura admitted before passing the other officers the alcohol, then reclaimed her perch on the chair opposite them.

"Before you say anything, Kirk, understand that I needed to try to get a handle on why Spock might be acting this way. The thing is, there was no way he or any of us could have known that that psychotic Klith woman who tried to kill you was actually a healer, or that she somehow realized you were having an allergic reaction to those burning plant fumes..."

"Or that her people's remedy for preventing a slow death is by killing them outright. Backwards bunch, I always knew," McCoy uttered, finishing his glass in one gulp. "Pretty girl, healer my ass."

"Can't disagree with you, Bones. And you-no more worrying over reports, okay? Just focus on getting better."

"Fine. Captain?"

Uhura waited for him to look at her again before following, "How are you?"

That handsome grin returned, although something about it was less than genuine. The hand that wasn't gripping his drink settled over his gold tunic, exactly where his surgical incision would be-if he hadn't already had it removed. He settled back into the sofa.

"Like I just came back from the dead. Like I should be dead."

He stared down into his empty glass, swirling the last few drops of amber liquid.

"Like I can't wait to pass this assignment right back to the Olympian crew so we can get the fuck out of this planet's orbit."

Studying him up close, it was easy to see how the evidence of their ordeal had clouded his normally bright gaze. He must have sensed her silent observation, because he quickly added, "We're getting away from your point, Lieutenant. I think Spock knows he saved my life, regardless of the reason for their initial attack. Take it from me: the thing he's most unsettled over, is you. You cut it damn close down there-"

"That's not my fault!"

"It's not about fault. All he sees is that you would've been murdered right in front of him," McCoy bluntly said, "just like his mother."

Uhura felt the blood drain from her face. There was nothing she could say to that.

Arms wrapped around her body, she carefully to stood and walked over to the wide observation window on the opposite side of the room which revealed the vast, eternal midnight of space.

He hid it masterfully, but he was hers; there was nothing Spock could do to completely mask himself from her. No one would ever know how often she wished for the power to heal the raw, constant ache within him. It was the same ache she'd first seen surface nearly a year ago in the turbo lift and yet again seconds before her world had gone black on Tau Klith. It was the reason there was no solace in the realization of the depth of his feelings for her.

Not if those emotions were thrusting him back into the sorrow of losing Amanda all over again.

"Spock is a fortress," Uhura said two the men now flanking either side of her, also looking out.

"Sometimes, it's easy to forget how human he is."

"The Commander is more human than I ever reckoned. That's for certain. He held your hand during your second surgery, right after he woke up and we put you back under. I wouldn't be surprised if you don't remember. Anesthesia'll do that. "

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kirk peer over and down at her.

"How would you react if you had been in his position? How would you feel?"

It wasn't a question posed to receive a generic response; exhaustion only seemed to exacerbate her honesty.

"If it had been me staring down at what I thought was his dead body on that transporter pad, I wouldn't be able to accept any of it-that he was dead, that he had died to spare my life or that there was nothing I could do to change it. I think the rational part of me would shut down...I would want to go wherever he was."

She blinked.

Somehow the gravity of what she'd just said seemed to pull away any ambiguity about what happened. It led her back to a truth she'd buried down deep the second she woke from that dreamless coma.

Our bond made it possible. Even into death...

"Uhura?"

Placing her fingertips against the cold window, the ghost of a smile which had graced her lips disappeared as quickly as it had come.

"I was just thinking, of two summers ago. I had left this beautiful but fairly worthless earring in Commander Spock's office at the end of the term. I didn't even notice it was missing. He came all the way to my father's house in Kenya just to return it, so he claimed."

"Truth be told, I think he would follow me anywhere."

o

Stardate 2259.23

Official Notice of Resignation: Exploratory Mission 3726 Tau Klith

Captain James T. Kirk, USS Enterprise

To the esteemed officers of the U.S.S. Olympian, I'd like to extend my well-wishes for your second tour on the intriguing world of Tau Klith. Your discoveries thus far have not only vastly improved the lives of those in similar situations to our own Admiral Pike, but have begun to foster the understanding necessary to incorporate this world into the Federation.

As you are aware, Admiral Pike successfully completed regenerative treatments utilizing Genesis-6, a compound synthesized from the native lunar flora. What was not known by your team during initial exploration is the fact that this compound in its natural state can become highly toxic for humans if ingested after certain chemical reactions; more specifically, after ignition.

The Enterprise's entire landing party—myself included—can attest to having exhibited signs of hallucinatory disturbance with an emphasis on visual and time distortions in the hours before an altercation which lead to the unfortunate death of a native healer. CMO McCoy's suspicion that I suffered from asphyxiation as a more severe reaction to the fumes was later confirmed by a secondary exam after reboarding the Enterprise.

Despite evidence to the contrary, native witnesses interviewed by this ship's security detail deny CMO McCoy's assertion that my cardiac arrest was the result of violence perpetrated by the deceased female Klith, nor do they admit to the attempted executions of First Officer Spock and Lieutenant Nyota Uhura.

They allege that any action taken by their people was in the name of preserving peace.

For this reason I formally recommend your landing party remain armed at all times while planetside. I also suggest the accompaniment of a specialized security detail–

Stifling a small yawn, Uhura closed the document on her PADD.

It was hard to believe only two days had passed since leaving Tau Klith's orbit for good, but every time doubt arose she simply re-read Kirk's communique to the Olympian. Incidentally, it was the only work-related document she was currently authorized to received.

It didn't bother her as much anymore. She knew work would come soon enough.

The number of "visits" Leonard and Kirk had made to her that day posed a dramatic decrease to only six, a sure sign that they trusted her recovery had permanently taken hold. Over 40% of her fractured arm and surrounding soft tissue had regenerated, while the strength of her painkiller dosage had been cut three quarters. The swift progress had convinced Len to trade out the cumbersome biobrace for a lighter, waterproof model which also allowed her to switch from sonic to real showers—the only thing that helped go back to sleep after waking from nightmares which were too alien to be her own.

A light, slow chill ran over her bare skin as she shed her robe and stepped into the shower.

Under the steady blast of hot water, it was also easier to fool herself into believing that the tears drying on her face, had never been there at all.

o

She hadn't been out of the lavatory unit for five minutes when she heard the computer's request to allow entry into her quarters.

After leeching as much moisture from her hair as possible, Uhura dropped the towel in the laundry shoot as she padded through her quiet bedroom to the quarters' entrance. She paused briefly to glance at the chronometer on the desk, and frowned. It was late...much later than even Kirk or Leonard would usually drop by for fear of disturbing her rest.

It made her think they might have something to tell her about Spock, who they had told her was for all intents and purpose, physically healed. She would never forget the look on the doctor's face after he'd admitted that Vulcan minds "knew a thing or two" about optimizing the healing process.

If only he knew...

"Enter."

Having expected to see very different faces, the small smile dropped from Uhura's lips.

"Spock? What's wrong?"

In a uniform perfectly fitted to his tall frame, with not a hair or even thread out of place, certainly nothing looked wrong. He could have come from a shift on the bridge, in fact. Seeing him look so normal was reassuring and bothersome at the same time-it stirred the frustration with his physical and emotional distance, the unanswered questions about their tenuous, currently muted bond and what they needed to do about it, the ambiguous correspondence with the healer named T'Prel.

Most of all, the sight of him brought forth a piercing loneliness she could no longer ignore.

Then she really looked at him.

Saw the terror in his eyes...the kind of lingering terror which could only come from a nightmare one had fully believed to be real.

"What do you need?" Uhura softly asked him, though she already knew.

She let him in.