Nyota lay in bed reading. It was well past her bedtime, but she couldn't sleep despite how tired she was. Perhaps the rare San Francisco thunderstorm outside was the cause. Almost as if on cue, another telltale flash lit up the night sky between the slightly parted red curtains. She put her PADD down beside her, listening for the glorious sound of thunder. She had always loved rainstorms, and thunder had always sent a thrill through her, even as a child. A few seconds later, she heard the powerful rumble rolling across the bay and she smiled. It sounded like the storm was getting a lot closer. She thought about checking the weather report on her PADD, but instead she lay back against the pillows and sighed with pleasure. How she had missed the sound of thunder onboard the Enterprise. There had been many wonderful and glorious things to be seen in space, but none of them compared to the intensity of a summertime Terran thunderstorm. It would be so much nicer if Spock would come to bed. Snuggling next to him while a storm broke outside would be perfect.

But Spock was in the other room, either meditating or grading the latest batch of papers. This was the first time he had taught an astrophysics class, and she was certain that he was enjoying it, although he would never admit it. He was a natural at teaching, and sometimes she had thought that teaching was his true calling. Since they had returned to the Academy as instructors on a temporary ground assignment after the birth of their daughter, they saw precious little of each other. They were on opposite schedules and often only got to spend any real time together on the weekends. But it was either that or put their child, only three months old, in the care of strangers, which neither of them wanted. It was hard on them both, but they had agreed, for now, that this was the proper course.

Nyota stretched and yawned, finally feeling tired enough to sleep. She powered down her PADD and placed it on the nightstand. She fluffed her pillow and pulled the comforter all the way up to her chin. Just as she closed her eyes, the apartment shook under a sudden thunderclap. Her eyes snapped open and she sat up. That one had sounded like it was right overhead, and now the wind had picked up outside as well, along with the rain. Wet branches began to brush against the windows, tossed about by the wind. She reached for her PADD to check the weather when she heard a tiny wail coming from the open channel on the comm unit set into the wall. The baby was awake and not happy about it if that howl was any indication.

Forgetting all about the PADD, Nyota tossed the comforter back and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Before her feet touched the carpeted floor, she heard the door to the baby's room open and Spock's low voice, soft and gentle, over the comm unit.

"I am here, there is no cause for tears any longer," he said softly. Almost immediately, the baby let loose with a loud squawk, clearly demanding to be picked up and held. She heard Spock's footsteps as he crossed her small room. Mentally she could see him making his way from the door to her crib and reaching inside. She heard the rustle of fabric and knew that Spock was pulling the blanket back and picking her up. Another cry came from the comm unit, this one less fussy than before, and she heard him lift her up into his arms.

"Do not wake your mother, she is resting and needs her sleep," he murmured soothingly. She heard the baby make another sound, somewhere between a gurgle and a whine. He made a soft, calming noise and the baby quieted somewhat, but not completely.

"What is the source of your discomfort?" he asked the baby, but she only fussed back at him. To Nyota, it didn't sound like a hungry or wet cry, just an upset one, and she thought that maybe the thunder had woken her. Their daughter had such sensitive little ears…

More fabric rustled, this time closer to the comm unit, so she knew that Spock had taken her to the changing table. She heard the sound of garments being removed as Spock checked her to see if she needed to be changed. Their daughter's cries had all but stopped and now she was just vocalizing, playing with sound.

"You do not need to be changed," said Spock, still using that wonderfully quiet and soothing tone of voice that he only used when talking to her. "Perhaps you are hungry. Let us see if this is the case." Nyota listened to the sound of clothes being secured back into place and a tiny squeak as Spock picked up their daughter. The sound of his retreating footsteps let her know that Spock was taking her into the kitchen for a bottle.

Quietly as possible, she crept out of bed and tiptoed to the edge of the doorway of their bedroom. She wanted to try to catch a glimpse of them together, if possible, without being seen. But she knew she would have to wait until they went into the living room, so she stayed where she was and strained to hear them.

Spock's footsteps went past their door and she held still, not wanting to give her position away. When she heard his bare feet padding along the tiled floor of the kitchen, she smiled to herself. Not much longer now. She closed her eyes and concentrated on shutting out the sounds of the storm outside and focused instead on the sounds of Spock and their child in the kitchen.

She heard the door to the stasis unit open and shut, and Spock's voice as he spoke to their daughter as he returned with her to the living room. She dared to peek around the corner and watched as Spock settled himself in his chair, the baby nestled snugly in the crook of his arm, and offered her the bottle. The bottle of breast milk was still just as fresh as when she had pumped it two days ago, but it was clear that the baby didn't want it. Twice he brushed her small lips with the nipple and each time she turned her head away. The second time she squawked at him and he raised a bemused eyebrow at her in response. It was all Nyota could do to remain silent and not laugh at the sight.

"So, you are not wet and you are not hungry," he said softly to her, as though he were bargaining with her. "Perhaps a song is what you need."

He began to sing softly to her, his low baritone relaxing and thrilling at the same time. Nyota smiled to herself. How did he do that, and so effortlessly? She remembered the first time she had ever heard him sing. She had been his student then, her first of three semesters as such. They had been reviewing some of the more obscure languages of the Federation, and he had explained that a few of them were not spoken, but sung. She had lifted her head from her PADD, placed her stylus on her desk, and engaged the record function just as he began to sing a few verses from the Fanarian morning greeting to their primary sun. His voice had thrilled her to the core. Not only was he beautiful and intelligent, but he could sing, too. She had known right then and there that she was in trouble. She had listened to that recording over and over, letting the sound of his voice soak into her soul. His voice lifted in song never failed to move her.

But now he wasn't singing ancient Vulcan love songs to her, he was singing love songs to their child. He sang old African lullabies that he had heard her sing, and a couple of English ones she was sure his mother had sung to him when he was small. As she watched from her hiding place, the baby quieted and stilled in his arms, blinking heavily at him as she gazed at his face. She yawned once, her whole face wrinkling as she opened her toothless mouth wide. One chubby fist rested against his meditation robe as she turned her head towards him, her eyes heavy with sleep. His voice grew softer and softer as she quieted down, until Nyota could barely hear him. When she was almost asleep, another clap of thunder struck, loud and jarring, right overhead. The baby jumped in Spock's arms, her eyes flying open as she wailed anew, obviously upset and startled by the storm outside.

Nyota watched as Spock stood, holding their small daughter close to his chest, his voice never once faltering. He switched to Vulcan lullabies then, which were a better match for a frightened infant with their calm and even tones. He began to pace back and forth, holding her against his chest, snuggled safely in his arms as he patted her back. Nyota leaned her head against the frame of the door and smiled. He was such a good father! He was so good with the baby, so gentle and attentive, patient and caring. He loved his little girl so much, and it made he heart melt to watch the two of them together.

She could just see the top of their daughter's head, covered in tiny little dark curls, resting on Spock's shoulder. A few times she picked her head up and looked at him, but never for very long. At last, she stopped squirming in his arms and lay silent and still in his embrace. Nyota was sure she was asleep, but still Spock sang, his voice soft and gentle, as he held her in his arms. When he finished the song, he looked down at the tiny child and Nyota watched as his expression softened. He stroked their daughter's cheek with the back of two of his fingers, never taking his gaze off of her. As she watched, he placed a tender kiss on top of her head. When she did not stir, he carefully and quietly made his way to her bedroom, carrying her as though she were made of the most delicate spun glass.

Nyota quietly followed him down the hall and into her room. She came in just as Spock leaned over and settled her back down in the crib. She watched as he adjusted the blanket around her and placed another gentle kiss on top of her head. How anyone could think he was cold and uncaring was absolutely beyond her. He straightened and walked over the comm unit on the wall and pressed a few buttons. The restful sound of waves crashing on the shore filled the room, completely canceling out the storm that raged outside.

"I am sorry I did not get to her soon enough to prevent her from waking you," Spock said as he turned around. She smiled at him and walked over to the crib to gaze down at their daughter. The baby was sound asleep and absolutely perfect and lovely. She had only the tiniest of tips on the tops of her ears, and her faint eyebrows were as rounded as Nyota's own. Spock came over and stood next to her, slipping an arm around her waist. She leaned her head against his shoulder and smiled.

"I wasn't asleep," she said, not taking her eyes off the baby. Spock reached out with his free hand and covered hers where it rested on the rail.

"Why not?" he asked. "You have had a long day, and you have class in the morning. Your students will not appreciate it if you are not well-rested."

"Well, it may have been due to the storm, or it may be that the bed is just too big without you," she teased. She looked up at him to find that he was looking at her, his dark eyes warm and intense. Anyone who said he didn't feel was a fool.

He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, moving so that his lips were next to her ear. "I can do nothing about the storm," he murmured, his voice low and sensual, "but perhaps I can do something about the bed."

She leaned back in his arms and turned to face him, her lips less than a centimeter from his.

"Perhaps you can," she breathed. He brushed her lips with his, sending a wave of warmth and longing through her. When he released her, she delayed long enough to turn out the light in the baby's room before she followed him to theirs, where there was nothing to cancel out the wonderful sound of thunder outside. She wanted to show him how much she loved and appreciated him, and it would be such a shame to waste a good thunderstorm on just cuddling…