A/N: Writing this has been a very positive experience for me thanks to all your wonderful feedback. One more thank you to everyone who read, reviewed and followed this story. The follow-up, "To Babel and Back" has been posted for any who are interested. Enjoy :)

italics indicates dialogue exchanged telepathically.

I still don't own ST.

She was surprised to have risen before Spock. Generally, he required less sleep. But he also relied on this fact as an excuse to go days without any rest. If he was still out, it meant he needed to be. She moved from the bed as gently as possible, trying not to disturb him. There were still a few hours before they had to report.

Charlene had been sweet enough to send her the pictures from the wedding. She opened the attachment on the PADD and swiped through them, unable to contain her joy. The first picture was of her still in the room, in hot rollers and a robe, with Nzuri applying her makeup. Next, a host of pictures and her and her bridal party in every conceivable combination. Then, her fully dressed, standing in front of her vanity.

After that were images of the breathtaking setting. It melted her. Spock knew, had been in her memories when she planned her wedding as a little girl, saw her playing it out with her dolls. Instead of dismissing it as fanciful or illogical, he brought her childish dreams to life, maturing them into something memorable and superb. That was the kind of man she married.

The holos of the two of them were her favorite. He looked so stoic, kingly as he took his vows. But there was warmth in his eyes that only she could see. She looked emotional enough for the both of them; in the picture directly after she was looking up, trying to keep the tears from actually falling. She preferred the picture of their Vulcan kiss to the one of the human counterpart. That was the one she would send to her parents to be put in the huge digital frame above the fireplace.

She sat the device aside and went to the bathroom to complete her morning ritual. Spock had an extra toothbrush in a draw and a second set of linens on the rack. His level of forethought was impressive. There was even a full uniform for her hanging in the closet. She wondered if all Vulcan men were this accommodating.

She collected their clothes from the floor, putting his in the refresher and staring ruefully at Nzuri's used-to-be-dress. The tag said it was designer and she knew she would never hear the end. She would still return it. Knowing her sister, she would repurpose the fabric somehow.

He hadn't woken yet, so she decided to run and get some coffee—the real stuff Mama sent—before sitting down to practice the harp. She plucked through the scales he'd given her, trying to match the sound in the recording. Finally, she struck the right note and all the pained looks from her husband were worth it. She had a surprise for him when he finally joined the world of the living.

It was the strangest sensation, feeling someone else return to consciousness. But all of a sudden, her mind was humming with a million different processes and thoughts that hadn't been there before. Many of them were equations; there was also the duty roster, his latest report to Command and a few observations about her. Thanks to him she now her body temperature, heart rate and blood pressure.

"Good morning, Adun." She serenaded.

"Good morning." His morning voice was deliciously deep and raspy—she was surprised to learn he had one. He filled the alcove between the bed and the sitting area. "How long have you been awake?"

"About two hours. Listen to this," she had now mastered three notes on the scale which she demonstrated. His pride filled her.

"Good. You are improving."

"I told you I would. I'm going to have breakfast with my sisters before they take off. Care to join?"

"It is agreeable." He stretched and it thrilled her to see such a mundane action because no one else got to. "I will be ready in fifteen minutes."

"No rush. I'll be playing "Mary Had A Little Lamb" by the time you get out of the shower."

"I will hold you to that statement, Wife."

They joined her sisters in the Mess hall which was empty at this still early hour.

"Hey! If it isn't my brother –in-law," Nzuri said in Swahili.

"Good morning, Sister-in-law," he responded in kind.

"When did you learn Swahili?"

"When I learned Vulcan." Nyota interjected.

"I want to learn Vulcan."

"I can recommend learning tools if you wish. My mother has kept a comprehensive list of programs that aided her in mastering the language."

"Please."

"I have also secured reading material for the children. At dinner, you mentioned that you read to them nightly. Perhaps, Vulcan material will aid them in developing a more diverse perception of the universe."

"I'd love that! Oh you're going to be their favorite uncle."

"As it stands, I am their only uncle."

Nyota and Mwezi left the others to get the food from the replicator. Except for the tea, which she made for him from her private stash. He was pleased by her choice for him—kreila—a type of Vulcan biscuit with a bowl of fruit salad. It went well with the rooibos. She was surprised that he liked the beverage so much.

"I find it extremely appetizing."

"I'll try to get Mama to send us some more—somehow. If she finds out her brand new son-in-law likes it, she'll deliver it herself if she has to."

"Your incessant use of hyperbole is…"

"Fascinating?"

"Confounding."

When she discerned that whatever transaction had taken place between the newlyweds was over, Nzuri reached down beside her and sat a gift bag on the table. "We have something for you. I started on it before the wedding, as a thank you."

"I don't think you know what you've done for us, Commander. There is no way, in any language or culture to express our level of gratitude."

"We would've gotten you something cool, like a new multipurpose stylus or something, but deep space is short on strip malls. So, together we decided I should make you something." She slid the silver bag across the table.

He was taken aback. He had received very few gifts in his life. And they had already thanked him more than 50 times since their arrival. He wiped his hands with a napkin and removed the thin decorative paper. It had obviously been prepared with great care.

He pulled out a large piece of burgundy silk. It had been embroidered with gold, copper and bronze threads, embellished with garnet and citrine beads. He unfolded it to its full size and recognized the pattern immediately. The stars above Vulcan as they looked from Shi'Kahr.

"Where did you get all these materials?" Nyota asked, voicing his question.

"Oh, I had them with me, I brought my craft supplies."

"You packed all that?"

"Yes."

"I am very grateful. Thank you." He was more than grateful. He was moved. His wife's took his hand, helping his center himself. She was smiling in his stead.

"We're glad you like it."

"I really, really wanna hug you right now, Spock."

"Please resist that urge."

"I will, but I just wanted you to know that."

"Acknowledged."

They went straight from the mess hall to the launch bay. All three of them were starting to cry—again. He was genuinely astonished at how often that happened.

"Well, My Star," Mwezi began. "I really hope to see you at home soon. Be careful, no more switching universes on me or staring down memory-eating probes."

"I'll do my best. You don't get kidnapped by any more Orion traders."

"I can't make any promises. Commander, it has truly been a pleasure. I hope we see each other soon. Keep this one out of trouble will you? Because I don't have any more emergency leave days."

He nodded.

"I love you." Nzuri propelled herself at her sister, catching her in a tight embrace. "You better get back home in one whole piece or I'll kill you!"

"Kiss the kids for me?"

"Yeah. Kiss him for me?" She nodded to her sister's husband. "I don't think he'll let me do it."

"Okay." She chuckled softly and pulled back, smoothing a hand over her hair, as fond of her as she'd been the moment she saw her. "I love you, too. I love you both." They huddled into an awkward three person hug that lasted for an extremely long time.

"If we don't leave now, we'll miss our rendezvous with the Liberty." They started toward the private craft, repeatedly turning back and waving. Eventually, the door slid shut and Nyota rushed to the closest view screen to watch the little ship jump to warp.

She sashayed onto the bridge the way she always had and confidently took her place. When the activity calmed and everyone was working quietly, falling victim to the lullaby of the hum and beep of the sensors, she started singing:

The skies are green and glowing
Where my heart is!
Where my heart is,
Where the scented lunar flower is blooming:
Somewhere, beyond the stars,
Beyond Antares.

I'll be back, though it takes forever:
Forever is just a day!
Forever is just another journey,
Tomorrow a stop along the way.

"Good to have you back, Lieutenant." The Captain called over his shoulder.

"Good to be back, Sir!"

Ship goes to warp, credits roll! LLAP.