It was an innocent enough exchange, to those who didn't know better.

"Good morning, Lieutenant Uhura," Spock said, walking smartly up to her work station. "May I please have the statistics from the latest away mission?"

Uhura turned. If she was pleased to see him, she didn't give any indication.

"Good morning, Commander. Of course."

She picked up the data pad and brought up the relevant information with quick keystrokes. Then, she handed the data pad to him.

If his fingers lingered on hers just a few seconds longer on hers than was strictly necessary, nobody else noticed.

A small smile flitted over Uhura's mouth, and the edge of Spock's lips turned up.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," he said softly, his voice gentle but professional.

Spock turned towards the turbo lift, studying the data pad.

Uhura nodded, and turned back to her station, seemingly absorbed in her work. If anyone saw the smile that lit up her features, or the fact that she didn't seem to focus for a few minutes, they didn't comment.

It was an innocent enough exchange, after all.

--------

They had started doing it months before, when they had been cadet and instructor, instead of lieutenant and commander. They lay tangled in the sheets, skin to skin and heart to heart, as they had been many nights before.

"I'm sorry, Nyota."

Uhura, who had been idly tracing Klingon letters on Spock's chest, looked at him, surprised.

"Sorry? For what?"

"That I cannot adequately express how much I care for you. I know you humans put a high priority on the expression of feelings, and I am afraid I am not able to express to you the depths of my feeling."

Uhura smiled.

"I think that's the closest you've ever come to telling me you love me. Quite a step for an emotionless Vulcan," she teased.

"Vulcans are not emotionless," Spock corrected, his voice as polite and proper as if he had been correcting her on an answer in class. "We are a people of strong emotions. We merely keep them under tight control. Just because I do not tell you that I love you doesn't mean I don't."

"Do you?" Uhura asked, her eyes wide.

Spock's eyebrow rose at her question.

"Of course. I thought you would have deduced this already."

"It's nice to hear it all the same," Uhura replied. She leaned over and kissed him briefly. "I love you too."

The corners of Spock's mouth drew up in his version of a grin. It was the kind of smile that made Uhura smile back, because she knew that it was reserved for her alone.

"I am glad to hear it, Nyota," he said softly.

Uhura lay her head on his chest, and they lapsed into a comfortable silence.

"Nyota?"

Uhura blinked. She had been almost asleep.

"Yes?"

"I have been thinking."

"Wouldn't that be a change," she muttered dryly.

"Indeed," Spock answered. "I have been thinking that I would like to show you how much I care about you."

"You do," she assured him. "All the time."

Spock was silent for another moment, but this time, Uhura stayed awake, curious to know what he would say once he continued.

"When I was a small child, my mother used to play a game with me. She was… emotional. She tried very hard to suppress it, as is fitting a human living on Vulcan. But she said she could not be so cold with her son. We invented a private language, so that she could tell me she cared for me without an embarrassing slip of emotion."

Spock rarely talked about his family. Uhura listened with rapt attention as he continued.

"When she put her hand on my shoulder, I knew she was telling me she was proud of me. When she said 'my son', I knew she was telling me that she loved me very much. I would… I would like to do something similar with you."

"You want to invent a code?" Uhura translated.

Spock shifted so that he was looking into her eyes.

"It is logical. I am an instructor, and you are a cadet. It is in no way appropriate for people to know of the physical relationship that we share. And yet, I am conflicted. I want to share how I feel about you, without breaking the bonds of propriety."

Uhura nodded, holding back a grin. For a Vulcan, he really was the most romantic man she knew.

"Therefore, I have been thinking of some small, common gestures that could be a code for us."

"Like what?"

Spock thought for a moment.

"When I say to you 'good morning', I am telling you how much you have been on my mind. When I touch your hand," here he trailed his elegant, tapered fingers down her arm, making her shiver, "I am saying that I remember our nights together. When I call you 'Cadet Uhura', I am speaking of my love for you."

Uhura was silent, her eyes filled with tears that she couldn't control. She was silent for a long time.

"Nyota?" Spock asked, suddenly unsure of himself. He reached a pale finger under her chin and gently drew her gaze to his. "You are crying."

"Yes," she said.

"It is not logical to cry. Why are you crying? Have I done something to offend you?"

Uhura laughed shakily.

"No, no, Spock. You just… I'm so touched. I didn't think you… you cared about me so very much."

"I can honestly say I have never felt like this about anyone before," Spock answered, the edges of his lips curling up once more.

"Nor I," Uhura said.

Spock leaned over and kissed her.

"Good morning, Cadet Uhura," he whispered.

------

That first morning on the Enterprise, Uhura found herself in the same turbo lift as Spock. His hands were clasped behind his back, his feet apart in a solid stance, his face blank and smooth.

She stood beside him and smiled.

"Good morning."

"Good morning," he replied, his face revealing nothing.

They stood side by side in silence for a moment while the lift made its way to the bridge.

"I believe our code is somewhat out of date," he said, breaking the silence.

"I am no longer a cadet," Uhura said.

"And I no longer an instructor," he leaned over so that his mouth was close to Uhura's ear. She could feel his warm breath on her neck, and shivered. "It is lieutenant and commander now. Everything else remains unchanged."

His fingers brushed hers in hardly perceptible gesture, and then the lift doors slid smoothly open.

"Good morning, Lieutenant Uhura," he said, walking calmly out.

"Good morning, Commander Spock," Uhura murmured after him.

---------

"Good morning, Lieutenant Uhura," Spock said, walking smartly up to her work station. "May I please have the statistics from the latest away mission?"

Uhura turned from her place at the communications centre.

"Good morning, Commander. Of course."

She picked up the data pad and brought up the relevant information with quick keystrokes. Then, she handed the data pad to him.

His fingers touched hers briefly, and lingered there for only a second longer than propriety required.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," he said, his voice quiet and professional.

Spock turned towards the turbo lift, studying the data pad.

Uhura nodded, and turned back to her station, and continued working on what she had been previously doing.

----------

"Huh," Kirk said. "I don't get it." He was looking at the doors of the turbo lift that his second in command had disappeared behind only seconds before.

"What?" McCoy asked.

"Those two."

"Yeah, I don't get them either. They're so cold towards each other."

Kirk smirked.

"Yeah. And they said 'good morning'."

"So?"

Kirk checked the clock beside his chair.

"It's three in the afternoon."

McCoy shrugged.

"I'm a doctor, not a psychologist."

"You could at least speculate. Aren't you the least bit curious, Bones?"

"None of our business, Jim. If they want to say good morning in the afternoon, let them. At least you don't have to worry about them being unprofessional on the job."

Kirk snorted derisively, but his eyes wandered to Uhura's back as she bent over her work station. If his eyes went a little further down than that, it wasn't his fault. What did they expect when they gave him a communications officer who was so…

"Jim."

"Huh?" Kirk snapped his attention back to McCoy, who was smirking now.

"You phased out again," he grinned.

Kirk shrugged, his mind still on the conversation he had just witnessed.

It was an innocent enough exchange.

Author's Note: I wasn't going to write any more of these Spock/Uhura things, and then "Illogical" got so many nice reviews that I had to write another. There aren't very many Spock/Uhura fics out there, but there should definitely be more!

Isn't it weird how plot bunnies come right when you have absolutely no time to write? It's like a law of nature or something. When you have lots of time to write, you have no ideas; when you have absolutely no time, they come in spades. I scribbled this down in school in between exams, and I should be studying for another test but instead I'm typing/editing this.