AN: Not really following rules here, just seeing what happens. Nitpicking, scathing or belittling reviews will be promptly deleted. You are welcome to leave reviews otherwise.

My main goal for this story is to try and build a solid romance between Nyota and Spock without throwing in too much sex right away, if at all. It's a challenge I give to myself. I'll try to update regularly but as a warning, I'm writing this one chapter at a time.

Disclaimer: Not being paid for this. I do it because it's fun and I love to write.

Enjoy yall!

Vulcan I, Human You

Chapter 1

When T'Pring ends their engagement, it catches Spock completely off guard. He long suspected that she was taken up with someone other than himself, but in his rational mind, she would choose honor and loyalty to him, the one her parents arranged for her since childhood.

He's ashamed at the way he ends up begging her not to leave him, ashamed of the promises that tumble from his mouth as she sits stiffly, unchanging, her beautiful hand limp in his grasp.

"Is there nothing I can do to change your mind?" he croaks, blinking back tears his eyes have not seen since he was a boy. His throat tightens once more as he searches her empty, violet eyes. She turns her cheek coldly as he tries to kiss her, feebly, and finally, she removes herself completely from his attempted embrace.

She stands, brushing her robes off, as if he has soiled her with his touch. "There is not. I have chosen another and he has chosen me," she says.

"But…why…how could you?" Spock moans, standing too, thinking of what his father will say, what his grandmother will say. The shame he will bring to his family! The shame he brings even now, as his human side erupts, and his eyes spill over. He swallows, trying again. "What if I promised to return to Vulcan, and stay? Would you have me then?"

"Come to Vulcan, Spock, or stay on Earth. There is nothing you could ever do to make me love you. I simply do not, and will not. Ever," she tells him plainly. She places a sympathetic hand on his trembling shoulder. "Go well, Spock. I wish you happiness and long life."

His shuttle back to Starfleet is just a blur of shame, anger and more tears that humiliate him further.

She was to be my wife. I loved her. How could she love another?

Spock was so proud to call T'Pring his; he was the envy of all Vulcans his age with her on his arm—wise, honorable, from a noble blood line, naturally beautiful. And now, belonging to a male that was not him. They had never mated, but how he had imagined what it might have felt like, to bury himself in her body. It would have been magical, passionate, thrilling, all he'd ever dreamed! He'd been so certain of it! Spock thinks back to the messages she sent him, writing how she missed him and wanted him to return to Vulcan, how she thought of him during her nights alone on her silk sheets, how she had begun looking for wedding robes. Lies. All had been lies. He could not trust females— they were deceitful. The more beautiful, the more they betrayed.

He's too distraught to even eat upon returning to Starfleet Academy, so he chooses to meditate instead. He tries to meditate all his pain away.

At least Spock has his studies during the day to keep him distracted. He's a Second Year at Starfleet Academy, currently the valedictorian with none of his classmates even coming in a close second. The female acquaintances flirt with him aggressively once he announces his broken engagement, as logically a Vulcan would do when asked. Why should I refuse the offer, he thinks as he gives in to the sex the Earth women seem so willing to give. It is physically enjoyable to him, for the time he spends shoving his well-endowed cock into them while they lay panting beneath him, but afterwards, he feels just as empty as before. His bond mate is gone. He is certain he is the only Vulcan alone at his age (twenty one in Earth years), and the thought humiliates him. Vulcans were never lonely for a mate. All Vulcans were betrothed by seven years of age, and Spock has no one to call his own, not today, not tomorrow. It is unacceptable, another thing that shamefully sets him apart from who he has tried so hard to be.

Spock commits to none of the women he has intercourse with, no matter what they cook, wear or how many times they take him into their mouths and swallow his steady stream of Vulcan seed. Why commit when none would make a likely wife of a Vulcan? Why bother with it when his father would set his lips in that firm, disapproving line, giving his answer without words? His heart is broken. He cannot bear the thought of loving again, nor will he even make an attempt to try. It is illogical. The women surrounding him at Starfleet are curious about him and his manhood, so he has sex with them, analyzes the experience, and continues on with his studies until another begins her aggressive pursuit.

Occasionally, his sex partners overlap. Twice, he is struck about the face by an enraged female.

"You used me! You liar! Jerk!" they scream at him and stomp off in fury. The slaps don't hurt him, merely leave him confused as to why they allowed themselves to think there was anything more going on except the physical mating. He had promised them nothing. Yet, Earth females did not seem to care about promises. They never applied logic to sexual encounters. They giggled and twirled hair about their fingers and kissed him with their tongue in his mouth. They wanted what was between his legs. There was talk, after a few partners, of how he almost seemed to "read minds" when it came to sex. Well, of course he could read their minds. He was telepathic. Yet he supposed to most, he was just another strange species earning his credentials at the competitive Starfleet Academy. He was a conquest. In a way, he felt just as used as they claimed of him.

He grew bored of mating recklessly. His life went on.

Spock graduates, is declared Commander and named as First Officer under the direction of Captain Christopher Pike, a good man as well as brilliant strategist. "They still have three years, maybe four to go before they complete the newest ship. The Enterprise, they're thinking of calling it. I've seen the bluprint, and wow, is she a beauty. While you wait, I can get you a teaching position right here at Starfleet, if you want. You'd be paid well and they could really use someone with your brains. Dr. Clarice just retired—"

"The Phonology instructor?" Spock asks. He enjoys its subject matter very much.

Captain Pike nods. "Yes. Starfleet's short staffed in that department. It's a sonofabitch finding a solid teacher, so I know they'd love to have you. We also need a couple new programs for those students who want to become Captain. A test, of sorts. One that'll be a challenge," Captain Pike tells him.

Spock certainly has no desire to return to Vulcan, so he agrees, his life quickly becoming consumed with classes, new cadets to discipline and developing a nearly impossible examination for candidates searching Captain. He names it the Kobayashi Maru, or "impossible to solve". Such is life, he decides as he makes the program more complex with every adjustment and update. One could never truly figure life out. One could never truly solve the complex notion of love. Uncontrollable, undefinable, unable to be forced.

There is nothing you can do to make me love you, not ever.

Her words still burn inside of him, all this time later. It is illogical, he knows. Spock tries not to think of his former bride to be, or how happy she probably is while he lays alone in his bed at night and dreams of nothing.

He meets the one who would change his life forever on an ordinary day, when she comes by his office at an agreed upon meeting after a brief exchange of emails regarding her credits.

"I can speak Klingon, Romulan and Orion fluently. I'd like to add two more electives, but that would require special permission. I've exempted out of everything in my department, but I saw in the instructor profiles that you are native to Vulcan. If you are teaching any courses in Vulcan—"

"I am not," he interrupts.

He would be a blind fool to miss her beautiful dark eyes, staring at him with such confidence and determination. She blinks them and for a moment, his heart stands still in his side. "What about Advanced Romulan?" she presses.

"I am a science teacher, not a foreign language instructor. You are welcome to speak with Dr. Andrews for those courses you are so adamant about taking," he says, meaning to end her presence in his office because he would almost say he is having trouble breathing suddenly, and it bothers him.

"I already did. She told me to come to you, Sir," she says. Her hair is long and black, but she's wearing it in one neat Dutch braid, which she flings over her shoulder in a way he finds sensual for no logical reason. How would it look free, flowing over her slender shoulders? She has long, shapely legs and a slender waist. He notices it all. A strange feeling stirs within. He is having trouble giving it a name. Desire, perhaps? Concupiscence? It surprises him. He has not been sexually active for over four years. Spock rationalizes that it is because of this reason he is having trouble concentrating on her words.

"Sir?"

No. He is a Commander in Starfleet now, not a hormonally charged adolescent. Those days are long far gone. He meditates through sexual urges these days. He does not masturbate because it is unnecessary. His past ways were shameful, and he wishes he could erase them. This girl must leave his office, the sooner the better.

Spock stands, straightening his uniform. "Please remind me again of your name?"

"Cadet Uhura, Sir. Nyota Uhura."

"What is your classification, Cadet?"

"Second Year Xenolinguistics major, Sir. I hope to make rank on the Enterprise. She'll be ready to go by the end of this semester, so I've heard—"

"So you've heard. If you truly wish to know something, you must observe or experience it in person. Claiming to know on the basis of 'hearsay', is a sure way to become quickly ill-advised, particularly to those who know the truth," he states, hoping to irritate or offend her enough to make her leave.

She nods in agreement, to his surprise, though he does not show it. "Absolutely. You're right. I would love to see the progress of the Enterprise in person, but even first in class cadets aren't granted that privilege. Unless, of course, they can prove that they have something of value to offer to the overall design of the ship."

"And you are claiming not only to be first in your class, but also to have a valuable modification to add to the new star ship, are you not?"

"I am first in my class." She fidgets. "And...actually, I have been working on a communications tool. It's just the prototype, and I'm sure the mechanics need work. It's the computer programming aspect that's got me a little confused, but I-I'm sure I could present my model to the board once I figure out how to make it reliable enough for Starfleet officers to use on missions." She pulls her PADD open, logs on. Her blush indicates her pride in her work, as her fingers glide over her device excitedly. "I've got the basic designs here, along with a few pictures. The actual device is back in my room."

She stands closer to him, and as they huddle over her PADD, he flips through screen after screen of her work, inhaling her scent of amber with every breath he takes. Her prototype for tracking sound waves in space is nothing less than miraculous. He can see where she has made some errors, but nothing he could not perfect himself.

"Fascinating," he murmurs after he comes to the last visual on her PADD.

"It took me a year," she says proudly. "Do you think...do you think it could actually be effective?"

"There are flaws," Spock murmurs as he reaches for her PADD again, flipping back a few screens. He tilts it to show her. "The design is large to be placed beside a console. You could use more advanced methods for the transmitter itself, and with the fiber core, sound has a high possibility of being absorbed. Have you considered Aluminum 2G?"

She frowns, her lips pursing briefly together. "I hadn't thought to use that. I was concerned about withholding shocks. But I'm realizing now that with A2G, the device could actually be placed inside a console station!"

Spock nods. "My thoughts exactly. It is an advanced metal and not the easiest to come by, but with a properly written grant, I am certain you would find it available to you."

She grins. "I'm terrific at grant writing! I've done three already."

Three approved grants before her senior year, which indicates she is not only brilliant, but hard working. He hands her back her PADD, tucking his hands behind his back. "I am curious as to why you did not choose Computer Science as your major when you are able to create these devices in your spare time with what appears to be little training," Spock finds himself saying. Engaging in small talk is unlike him, especially with an Earth female, but he cannot help himself. She is clearly of high intelligence, as well as being very lovely. Already, there is a natural chemistry between them, one he would be illogical to deny. The feeling is faint, but does exist.

"Is that your way of saying you're impressed?" Cadet Nyota Uhura asks, smiling slightly.

Vulcans did not lie. "Very much so. Further, now that I have seen this example of your capabilities, I am in compliance with assisting you."

"Really? You'll help me with it?" She looks so happy that he almost smiles.

He hears himself speaking, almost as if he is having an out of body experience. "An independent study could be arranged. The rest of my colleagues also have Teaching Assistants, though I would not want to burden you with duties when you seem to have a full schedule. However, if you would be willing to serve as such under my direction, you would have access to the console stations and any of the materials in the science labs, granted you document what supplies you use so they can be replenished."

She beams, giving a little hop. "Yes! Absolutely! It's more than what I hoped for, it's the perfect solution to my scheduling dilemma! I-I can also help you with whatever else you might need, Commander. Just let me know."

"It would be folly not to assist you when I can see you are naturally talented and so passionate about your career."

Never have I given such compliments. What am I doing? Is she realizing that I...I am in want of her? That I do wish to please her?

Cadet Uhura deepens in color, yet holds his gaze. "Oh, thank you very much, Commander."

Something in her eyes has trapped him, and though he knows he should bring the conversation to a close, he finds he can say nothing, can do nothing but stare at her. In fact, they stand there, staring at each other until finally, she speaks. "Well...I should get going. I'll get busy with the grant application right away."

He tears his eyes away from her to glance at the time on his comm. "Very well. I too, must go. I have a class shortly. I will email you the codes and the verification letter stating your signing on as my aide when I return to my quarters."

Cadet Uhura's smile radiates. "Thank you, Sir. This is the best news I've heard all year."

That night, for the first time in months, he skips meditation exercises, choosing instead to pleasure himself while her scent clouds his memory like the fog that so frequently covers San Francisco.