A/N: Many, many apologies for delays in updating my writing; I've been struggling with work and going out of town for the last couple of weeks. I do have a HP fic exchange story that I must work on, but I'll hopefully finish "The Test" part five soon (meaning this week). In the meantime, please accept this outtake from Part Four of my story, "The Test". This is the first time I've written in Spock's POV, so I'm rather nervous about this piece. This takes place the morning after part four; these are Spock's reflections after witnessing Nyota at dinner… and on a date. This will feed directly into part five. T'Pring and the subsequent dialogue are taken directly from Spock's greeting to her in "Amok Time". A huge thanks to mrstater for her beta-reading. She really gave me some great ideas and suggestions!

Thanks so much for the continued support of my stories. I really do appreciate your comments and feedback!

He needs to keep his focus. Spock does so by staring into the fire.

The flame from the meditation lamp flickers wildly at first. He concentrates on it intensely. Fingers tented, his breathing even, he allows the scent of Vulcan tuber to enter his body as he reflects on the meaning of the lamp and the flame.

Violent and undisciplined, the fire laps the air above the artifact. Its symbolism is straightforward; so long as it burns, the potential for destruction exists. Left untended, it can consume everything in its path.

At the moment, the flame is contained. The vessel prevents the fire from causing any damage. For Spock, the lamp reinforces the need to control his primitive self; it shows that it is possible to contain that which hurts and destroys.

This reminder is necessary for him. There can be no other incidents like last night. As part of his meditation, he must first remember the images that so disturbed him before he can move beyond them.

When he remembers the events of the previous evening, they are as clear and vibrant as they were when he experienced them the first time. It is as if he is there again…

Spock approaches their table, and immediately, he knows this is a mistake. Yet, he does not stop walking. There is no rational explanation, other than—

Nyota...

This is a surprise for him. He did not come to this restaurant tonight expecting to be confronted by the images of her with…

Well, this evening, she is clearly involved with another man. She is engaged in a traditional human courtship practice. He knows it is custom among humans to socialize casually in this manner. It is far different from the Vulcan way.

This man, though, is far shorter than her. The difference is obvious. Spock does not like to estimate, but he would guess the man is at least four, if not five inches shorter than Nyota. He is not physically compatible with her, that much is certain.

All four cadets stand and show him the proper respect, but Spock cannot respond properly at first because his mind processes a simple truth.

Nyota. Nyota is here and…

She is on what humans call a 'date'.

In the conversation that ensues between Nyota and him, Spock notes the minute tremor in her voice and the small, but noticeable, laugh. It is clear that she is nervous, but he does not know why. When he summons every last bit of resolve to tell them they should enjoy this evening, the shorter man chooses to speak.

"Don't worry, Commander. I'll take good care of her tonight."

His words are most unwelcome.

Spock's mind and body react instantaneously. He feels an odd physical sensation pierce his stomach; it travels up his chest. His temperature increases — not by much, but it is noticeable to him as he strictly monitors his body and its functions. His teeth clench and his breathing intensifies.

However, he finds the physical reactions are not the strongest part of this experience; the mental element is far more powerful than he can anticipate. It does not matter that this sensation is something he cannot touch or hold. It is so intense that he can barely stop himself from acting out on it.

Spock visualizes himself applying a nerve pinch to the man's shoulder, rendering him incapacitated. This is a savage impulse. He knows it is brutal and wrong, since there is no provocation to attack. But it increases when he looks at the man and sees him standing next to Nyota. He knows he feels like this because he desires to take the man's place at the table, to be the one who accompanies Nyota tonight.

Before he does anything physical, Spock channels his energies to find out more about this man, his tone harsher and colder than normal.

"What is your name, Cadet?"

"Uh… John Carver, sir."

Spock leads this small man through a series of questions, designed to elicit information that might be used against him. True, it is not the Vulcan way, but that does not stop him.

Upon hearing that the cadet struggles with transporter theory, he finds what he is looking for.

"When I took the course, I remember needing to ask the commander for extra assignments… the established coursework presented little challenge for me."

Illogical? Without doubt. It is not in his personality to be outwardly boastful of his accomplishments. But this does not stop Spock from desiring to challenge this other man in a demonstration of who possesses the greater intellect. Nyota would clearly see him as victor in such a contest.

This makes no sense; she is aware of his intelligence, and any further validation of this would be extraneous, not to mention arrogant. Vulcans do not celebrate arrogance. And Nyota does not tolerate it either.

It still does not stop Spock from wanting to challenge this unusually short man on all areas that he knows intrigue Nyota, areas that he himself knows far too well. It is highly unlikely that Cadet Carver would understand the intricacies needed to be proficient in xenolinguistics. And certainly he would not appreciate them on any level that would make Nyota a compatible mate for him.

At this point, he realizes what it is he is feeling—

An emotion.

I am jealous.

For ten minutes and forty-seconds, the control over his emotions slide, and now Spock must meditate to quiet his mind.

Currently, this endeavor is proving futile.

He watches the flame from the lamp. Spock is grateful for the small amount of clarity provided by meditation. It does not cure, but it does calm. Slightly. He can, at a minimum, reason through his feeling of jealousy. And he does.

However, he recognizes another dimension to his emotion. It is a pang to his stomach, a pull from his chest. It is his mind calling out to him.

T'Pring.

"Parted from me, and never parted. Never and always touching, and touched…"

It is his duty. It is his people's way. It is the call of his Vulcan biology. Although his ancestral traditions bind him to his betrothed, Spock recognizes that there is something present on this world that draws him further and further away from his Vulcan heritage.

Her.

Nyota.

He cannot stop thinking about his desire for Nyota. He had assumed that he could deal with this problem through intensive meditation. Much to his chagrin, Spock realizes that meditation does not quash his feelings, because he sees her and talks to her every day. And he finds himself missing her when she is not nearby.

Despite his best efforts, he thinks of Nyota often. The amount of time they spend together ensures that she is on his mind on a continual basis. And that T'Pring is nothing more but a memory.

Spock extinguishes the flame and makes his way toward his room's entrance. He must leave now to make his appointment with Captain Christopher Pike. He will, of course, be punctual; Vulcans are never late for any engagement.

Spock knows he must keep his mind on this meeting, but he cannot forget what he saw at dinner. Realizing this, he knows he did not meditate enough. He will have to do more, later this evening.

He approaches the captain's office. There is a beep… a click… and finally a swoosh.

The captain's smiling face greets him.

"Mr. Spock. You're right on time." Christopher Pike gestures for him to enter the room. Spock complies, although he is unsure of what the captain means by being "right on time"; surely he knows that this is Spock's way.

"Captain, you did say we were to meet at eleven hundred hours today. As I am Vulcan, I am never late for any meeting at which my presence is required."

Pike laughs. "Your punctuality is certainly appreciated. Please." He holds his hand out to a chair in front of his desk. "Have a seat."

He complies with the captain's request. Pike takes his own seat at his desk. Before any conversation commences, Spock's eyes scan the office, as some time has passed since he has been invited in here. Even for a Vulcan, there are things in the room that intrigue him.

On a bookshelf behind Pike, there are crystals set inside polished stone. It is Mojave blue agate, a variety of cryptocrystalline quartz gemstone. Pictures of the Mojave Desert cover the walls. Some show cacti of various sizes, including one quite large Pachycereus pringlei. Others show the San Gabriel Mountain range. On the captain's desk, where other humans would have put pictures of their families, their mates and their offspring, Christopher Pike has a picture of two horses — his prized stallions, Tango and Victory.

And mixed with all of these are pictures, there is one that Spock recognizes as—

"This is an old military vessel, circa 20th-century."

Pike grins as he spins in his seat to face the wall behind his desk. "It's always a good to remember your past. The USS Enterprise, CVN-65. The world's first nuclear-powered aircraft carrier. And, of course, the name for the Federation's flagship for long-term study and exploration." Pike turns back around. The smile on the captain's face reminds the Spock of his mother, before she conversed with him about important matters, ones that brought her what humans characterize as contentment. Undoubtedly, the matters that Captain Pike has to discuss with him today are similarly pleasing.

"Mr. Spock, you're aware that the Enterprise — our Enterprise — is approximately five months from her maiden voyage, correct?"

"I have been receiving regular updates, and not only the ones provided by you, sir. According to all reports, she is performing well."

The captain nods. With a calm expression, he arrives at his main point. "Yesterday, Starfleet informed me that I have been assigned to the Enterprise as her captain."

At this, Spock cannot help but sense an uplifting feeling rise within him. It manifests as his ears shift slightly. And though he tries to stifle it, a small grin appears on his face. "That is an honor, sir. I cannot think of an officer more deserving of commanding the Enterprise than yourself."

Pike chuckles softly, but one cannot miss the elation that emanates from the senior officer. Captain Pike is not a boastful man. He is not arrogant or smug, but he is confident in his abilities. Additionally, he is intelligent and aware enough to know that he has been awarded the most sought-after command in all of Starfleet.

"I appreciate it, but I didn't just ask you to join me to talk about my new assignment. I brought you here to talk about yours."

The Vulcan lifts his eyebrow. "Mine, sir?"

"The first thing I did when I accepted my new orders was put in a request for my first officer. And I requested you, Mr. Spock. So, welcome aboard."

He sits perfectly still, which belies the excitement coursing through his body. Emotions are strange things, Spock realizes. When he feels one emotion acutely, such as jealousy, it strikes down the barriers he had constructed to control the more primal part of him.

It vexes him, these feelings. For something without physical form, emotions are far stronger than anything he has ever experienced.

Finally, he composes himself so he can form a proper response. "Although my duties to Starfleet require that I accept this assignment, you should know that I would accept it without hesitation even if the post was not mandatory. Such is my regard for your capacity as a leader."

Pike is visibly surprised with the vote of confidence. "Well then, since the best Starfleet crews flourish under a captain and a first officer who hold each other in the highest regard, your sentiment is welcome." He takes a sip of his water. "Now, down to business."

"Yes, sir."

"Our duty until she sets sail will be to compile our main crew. We'll need to look at the officers who're awaiting assignments, at the cadets who'll be eligible for assignments, and at recruits from outside the Academy."

Spock finds this conversation a reprieve from the chaos inside of him. And for this, he is most grateful. "Captain, if I may—"

Pike holds up his hand, halting Spock in mid-sentence and smiles broadly at the Vulcan. "You're at ease for the remainder of this meeting. And please, feel free to call me Chris when we're off duty. Go ahead."

"Upon the completion of all of her diagnostic and operational tests, the Enterprise will be the Federation's exploratory and investigatory flagship. Inherent in our mission will be alien contact and diplomacy. Logic dictates that we select a diverse crew, one that reflects the Federation's deference for inclusion and acceptance."

Pike raps his knuckles on the table. "I completely agree. It's imperative that we focus on diversity, not only among the population of Earth, but among all of the Federation's members. And we also need the best of the best."

"Due to Starfleet's previous exploratory efforts thus far, twenty-four-point-eighty-five percent of the Alpha Quadrant has been explored. The other quadrants, however, remain largely uncharted."

"The Delta and Gamma Quadrants are too distant, even with our technology. Beta's still too hostile, with the Romulan and Klingon empires dominating that area." Pike rubs his forehead; Spock takes this as a sign of mental, not physical fatigue.

"Honestly, I don't see our treaties with them lasting long. It's far too volatile a situation."

"I concur with your assessment. Time and continued negotiations through proper diplomatic channels will be the best way to stave off potential conflict."

"That's my hope." Pike says, nodding. "In the meantime, we've got to figure out our crew." He smiles. "A five-year mission of exploration and discovery with the best science, research and technical expertise available to us. And with a crew that represents the Federation's goal for inclusion."

"Of the species whose home worlds exist within the Alpha Quadrant, there are but a small number of planets who are technologically advanced and who enjoy political planetary unity sufficient enough to allow membership into the Federation." Spock considers this. "Although we have made great strides in our recruitment efforts and outreach to multiple species, there are millions, if not billions, of planets left to discover. We, as in the Federation, are not that diverse."

Pike chuckles, although Spock does not think it is aimed at anything humorous. "Not now, perhaps. But hopefully in the future we will be."

"I could not agree more."

They continue to talk, to make their plans for their crew. Occasionally, Pike rolls a rounded sphere of blue agate between his palms; this is a method of stress relief for humans. It is less effective than meditation, but sufficient to alleviate anxiety when one is conversing. Other than palming the stone, Christopher Pike's visage does not betray any tension that he may feel.

Spock, however, feels his own attention divided. All the talk of selecting the best of the best for the Enterprise's flagship crew sets his mind to thinking...

Nyota.

At once logic and the irrational intersect; Nyota would be an asset to the Enterprise. But if he is to be on the Enterprise and if he is to assist with her crew selection, choosing Nyota invariably leads to questions about his own motives as to sharing a mission with her.

His mind lingers, unwillingly, on the last thought he has of her, at dinner, standing before him. Nyota. Nyota…

Her physical appearance at the restaurant troubles him. He feels strong urges as he remembers her in her evening dress. He realizes that he cannot stop himself picturing her shoulders, seeing them bare for the first time, or the sway of her hair. Or her smile.

Last night has made things far worse. He can still see her vividly: her clothing is far different from her normal work attire, and her hair is loose, falling across her bare shoulders. Although her dress is not regulation within any interpretation that he can think of, she looks—

Beautiful.

—appropriately clean and well-dressed. She is suitable as a representative of Starfleet.

Spock feels his hold on logic leaving him. Thoughts linger far too long in his mind. Images and ideas swirl in his head and meditation cannot stop nor control them.

She is, objectively—

Very beautiful.

Pleasing to admire. Spock remembers being similarly pleased when he observed other women on Vulcan. They were his elders by several years, but he found himself drawn to their strong features and admirable strength. T'Pring, too, was appealing on all levels for the average Vulcan male. However, he never knew them. His attraction to Vulcan females was based purely on their physical forms, as he never had the chance to exchange anything more than a salute in greeting.

Nyota's objective beauty is only one facet of his attraction to her. But he realizes it is not all.

She challenges him. He admires her intelligence and intuition. He finds himself anticipating their conversations, in part because she never holds back or hides her intellect. And the ways in which she engages him are unpredictable and strange.

Spock knows these thoughts are improper, forbidden by the rules of the Academy. Failure to comply with those rules will mean discharge of both cadet and instructor, even a ranked officer who has achieved as much as Spock. And Nyota's skills make her far too great a potential asset to Starfleet to risk her status.

Therefore, it would be highly illogical for them to pursue a relationship beyond the platonic or the professional. This conclusion does nothing to stop the irrational emotions from flooding his brain. Spock knows that he will have to meditate longer tonight, perhaps even more tomorrow and throughout the week, to regain control again.

Until then, however, these emotions hover dangerously close to the surface.

"Mr. Spock, is everything okay? You seem distracted."

Christopher Pike's voice is one degree louder than his normal volume. The captain watches him, his hands frozen over the rounded sphere of natural crystal. Spock determines from Pike's tone and actions that he has been saying his name while he was inappropriately distracted.

This distraction must end.

Somehow.

Back on Vulcan, his mother could sense when he was troubled. She would invite him to talk to her about his problems. At first, he would refuse, preferring to wrestle control of his emotions through meditation. However, when even this failed him, he would go to her, and he would talk.

From those talks, he came to realize that saying out loud the things that troubled him helped. Sometimes, it was better than the Vulcan way. Perhaps this is one of those moments, requiring discussion to help him arrive at a resolution to his dilemma.

"Captain Pike… Chris. You informed me that I may speak freely during this meeting. Would this courtesy extend to matters unrelated to your command of the Enterprise?"

Pike furrows his brow and leans forward, setting the sphere onto a dark wood stand. "I'm afraid I'm not following you."

He is certain that he can keep his voice steady, free from feeling, even if he discusses these inconveniently illogical matters with Christopher Pike.

"There are certain matters, personal ones, that have been preoccupying me for some time now."

Pike rubs his mouth with his hand, humming as he absorbs Spock's disclosure. "Mr. Spock, I must say this is very unusual. These matters must be serious if they're distracting you."

He nods. "They are unlike anything I have ever encountered before."

The captain waves his hand to the entrance of his office. "Why don't we discuss them on the way to the mess hall? I'm not sure how you're holding up, but I'm starving."

"I will go with you to eat, although I would request that we find a place less frequented by Academy personnel or cadets. The matter I need to discuss with you is highly sensitive. I must ensure that no one overhears our conversation, lest it be taken out of context."

At this, Pike holds up his hands. "Say no more." He beckons him to stand up. "Follow me. I know you don't eat meat, and I need to start eating healthier for my upcoming physical. There's a vegetarian restaurant a couple of blocks away."

Spock bows his head in agreement. "That would be most satisfactory." The captain approaches the door to his office, gesturing for Spock to exit first.

They step outside. Fortunately, for them, the weather is mild and the sky is overcast without the threat of rain. The two officers walk in concert for a few paces outside the building in which Pike's office is located. His hands clasped behind his back, Spock uses the silence to organize his thoughts and to tamper down his emotions; he must be very careful about how he phrases certain things.

It is Pike who breaks the silence.

"Admiral Archer once told me that a captain is many things on his ship, including a father to hundreds of men and women."

Spock tilts his head towards the captain and arches his eyebrow. "I am not sure if I understand the comparison."

Pike appears amused, but he continues to focus on the concrete path ahead of them, nodding at a few cadets who stop to salute them. "It means that a captain should be there for his crew. Support them mentally and emotionally when something bothers them." He looks at Spock. "That's your cue to tell me what you're thinking about."

"I see." The Vulcan can feel his pulse rising and he centers himself before he can begin to phrase his thoughts properly. His eyes scan the expanse of grass and concrete, assuring himself that no cadets are within listening range. When he is reassured, he turns back to Pike. "First, you must understand that what is on my mind are things that could have me disciplined or even dismissed from the Academy. But I feel that I need to talk about them to someone. My mother would be the most logical candidate; however, she is not here."

Spock is satisfied with his steady and even tone; he sounds exactly as he does every day.

"Don't worry. This conversation remains between you and me only."

Spock knows that he cannot express appreciation physically, but he can express it through words. "Thank you." He can feel a slight tremor inside of him, increasing as he anticipates the discussion. This does not stop him from speaking.

"Recently, it has come to my attention that, despite the existence of Starfleet's ethical code, as well as restrictions applicable to cadet-instructor decorum and reasoning therein, that I might be… incapable of obeying them."

It is now out in the open. He does not want to regret it.

Chris blinks rapidly, his brow furrows sharply. He is confused. "Which regulations are you referring to?"

"Specifically, Starfleet's Code of Ethical Conduct, regulation fifteen three-five states that instructors and cadets will, at all times, maintain a professional relationship with each other. Instructors and ranking officers who teach at the Academy shall not engage in inappropriate personal relationships with cadets while the cadets remain under their tutelage and/or training."

Pike stops walking. His eyes focus forward on the path; he scans the area, much like Spock did earlier, to ensure that no one is close enough to overhear them. The captain opens his mouth, but no words come out. After ten seconds, he speaks, directing his words to Spock, and speaking in a lower volume than normal. "Are you referring to a relationship that is currently taking place, a relationship that has started and ended, or a relationship that hasn't begun yet?"

"I am referring to a relationship that does not exist. I do not know of the cadet's regard for me, but I realize that I have come to… possess feelings for her that exist beyond the parameters of our professional association."

"Ah." Pike blinks and bobs his head slowly. He nods toward a spot off the path, underneath a tree. It is secluded enough for Spock to deduce no one will spy on their conversation.

Captain Pike waits for Spock to join him before he starts talking again. He is holding a small branch, twisting it and tearing it apart. He pinches one of the branch's seven leaves between his fingers. It is a gesture reminiscent of how Pike handled the ball of crystal back in his office.

"Well, I can tell you you're not the first instructor who wishes that rule didn't exist."

Spock creases his brow. "It is not that I wish it does not exist. The logic behind it is obvious: to preserve the professional integrity between cadet and instructor. The instructor cannot be accused of favoritism. The cadet must be allowed to make progress on their own merits—"

"Mr., er… Spock." Pike's tone is casual. This relieves Spock; perhaps he made a wise decision to confide, off-the-record, to Christopher Pike. "First, it's all right. You've done nothing wrong."

"I am afraid, though, that I have allowed my emotions to overtake me." Spock arches his eyebrow at Pike's disbelieving expression. "It is true. I have become easily distractible and vulnerable to several human emotions, the worst of which nearly made me challenge a potential rival in a demonstration of who possesses the superior intellect. A contest that I would surely win."

Pike's mouth lifts up; the captain smirks at his words. Spock fails to see what he said that is funny.

"I am confused. Could you inform me as to what I said that you find so amusing?"

"You're telling me you felt jealous?" Pike asks after five seconds. "Over a female cadet?"

Spock exhales; he is beginning to grow slightly impatient. He does not like that these feelings are so palpable to him. "I believe I was feeling what humans would define as jealousy."

"Well, you're part human as well as Vulcan. It'd make sense for you to feel emotions more acutely than other Vulcans."

He can sense his nostrils flaring; he tries to control his frustration. "That would be logical. Although I respect the bond I share with my mother, I cannot deny that her human blood has allowed for weaknesses in my Vulcan resolve. This is a fact that I currently find most vexing."

The captain bobs his head in agreement. "It also makes sense that you'd develop feelings for a human woman. Particularly since you haven't been back to Vulcan in several years. Oh... she is human, right?"

"She is human. And to respond to your other statement, I have not been back to Vulcan for six-point-five of your Earth years, to be precise." Spock pauses as his memories travel backwards through his past. "My human blood has led to several regrettable experiences in my childhood and adolescence. Indeed, it was part of my decision to attend Starfleet Academy."

"Surely you don't find your work with Starfleet a mistake?"

"I misspoke. Starfleet has offered various opportunities for me, all of which I have excelled at. I cannot be certain that I would have excelled in a similar way had I attended the Vulcan Science Academy."

"Beg to differ, but you would have distinguished yourself no matter where you ended up."

Spock chooses not to show appreciation this time; he has already shown too much. He does nod once, which he believes will be accepted as gratitude. "Attending the science academy on my world would have been a far different experience, but I would not have met you, sir."

He thinks for two seconds that he should not say the next part, but since Vulcans cannot lie and Christopher Pike already knows what is troubling him, Spock decides to say it.

"And I would not have met her."

"That's true. Do you regret meeting her?"

Spock must think for a moment. "It is complicated. I do not regret having her in my life. However, it has become increasingly difficult to control the emotions I feel for this woman. Moreso as I continue to act as her mentor. The incident last evening is proof of that."

"I'm sure you didn't do anything that tarnished your standing with Starfleet."

Pike's slightly amused expression does nothing to assuage Spock's apprehension. "I... acted impulsively in front of her and her companion at dinner."

The captain shrugs. "Well, maybe for a Vulcan you were a bit rash. Perhaps even for yourself, you might have seemed more emotional than normal. For a human? I'll bet my entire ranch in the Mojave that you were completely subdued and neither picked up on what you were feeling."

Spock is perplexed by this, although his face remains impassive. "You were not there to know how I reacted."

"I think I know you well enough to make that assessment. At least you didn't resort to fighting. You'd overtake the fittest human."

"This is a typical reaction among your species?" Spock asks. "To resolve conflicts through physical altercations?"

Pike chuckles. The tone of the chuckling is lower than normal, and the volume is softer. The captain looks up and to the right, a sign of the thought processes engaged in visual memory recall. "Oh God, when I was teenager — hell, when I was a cadet — I did some idiotic things because I was jealous about a girl."

"Did you engage your rival in physical altercations without provocation?"

Chris smiles, but even the Vulcan can sense the awkwardness behind it. "Yes I did." His voice has the tone of someone remembering something from long ago, with mildly amused incredulity. "And I got my ass whupped, several times. One fight, I ended up with my nose broken. "

Spock hums perfunctorily. "Hm. How… savage." The captain laughs at this.

"Can't argue with that. Thank the stars for Admiral Archer. He knocked some sense into me before I let myself get kicked out of school and the Academy."

Spock pauses. "I must ask you something. Is it logical for me to continue to act as this cadet's mentor? To have her work in the lab with me, and perform as my aide while I have these feelings for this cadet?"

Pike's amused expression falls and he considers the interrogatory seriously. He tosses the branch and the leaves to the ground and brushes off his hands.

"I don't think it is, Spock."

This is the answer he expects. "I see." Spock ponders his options. The first one that comes to his mind is the most extreme of the alternatives, but he decides that he must say it, regardless of whether the captain will consent. "Do you suggest I resign?"

"And deprive me of a great first officer? Hell no, I won't allow you to resign!"

Spock is pleased at Pike's comment, although he does not give any outward sign of the feeling. "Your resolve in my assignment as your first officer is most reassuring." He takes in a breath through his nose. "If you do not think it appropriate that I continue as the cadet's mentor, given the current situation, then…"

He head inclines right, and then left. He does not know what other options exist. If he goes one way, he will break a rule. If he chooses the other option, the captain will most certainly refuse his resignation.

"I have arrived at an impasse of logical solutions to this problem. My next inquiry, the only thing I can think of, now that logic has failed me, is to ask what would you do?"

Christopher Pike stifles a laugh and reflects upon the question, crossing his arms in front of his chest. The Vulcan does not say anything that might detract from his thought processes.

"Is she in any of your classes?"

"No, she is not. This is her last year before her graduation."

Pike nods. "So the only interaction that you have with her in terms of instructor-cadet work is that she acts as your aide?"

"Yes, although the position, as you are aware, affords to us a substantial amount of time together. Far more than when she was my student."

The captain considers this. "Well then, I think you should follow the rule. To the letter."

For fifteen-point-five seconds following Pike's suggestion, Spock goes over the rule in his mind. He studies it, each and every word, nearly tearing them apart at the syllables to arrive at Pike's meaning.

Instructors and ranking officers… shall not engage in inappropriate personal relationships with cadets while the cadets remain under their tutelage and/or training.

He knows that the senior officer is saying one thing while meaning another.

Instructors and ranking officers…

It is an odd affect of this species, and something that Vulcans are not normally attuned to. Spock has only to thank his own interactions with humans that he can learn to communicate in a rather deceptive manner.

…while the cadets remain under their tutelage and/or training.

There it is.

"If she is no longer is in any of my classes, and if she is no longer my aide, then these feelings, should they lead to more, would not violate any rules." His eyebrow spikes up.

Pike looks at him with a mildly amused expression. "That's a valid interpretation of the rule. And, I will say, one with precedent."

"This is not unusual among instructors and cadets at the Academy?"

"The rules contemplate both proper decorum in an academic environment and the fact that many of our instructors are around the same age as our cadets. There're bound to be some inconvenient feelings that spring up, shocking even the most cautious and logical individuals."

Spock's eyebrow remains arched. "That was an attempt at humor at my expense."

Pike smiles. "Yes. A little bit of humor. Couldn't resist."

The Vulcan nods. "This discussion has been fascinating. As I will be seeing her tomorrow—"

Pike holds up his hand again, halting Spock in mid-sentence. "I don't need to know anything. No names, no faces. I already know too much."

Spock tilts his head, the skin separating his brows knotting ever so slightly, but just enough to connote befuddlement.

"I know that she's your aide. That's already too much information for me."

"Please explain."

"Spock, if you feel some regard for this cadet, I would assume that she possesses a high degree of intelligence and competence."

"Both are correct assumptions."

Pike nods. "So, I'd want her on our crew then. But I also don't want anyone to think she's been given this assignment for any other reason besides her own talents."

He could not disagree with this logic. This has been troubling him once he began discussing the Enterprise's crew with Christopher Pike.

"A wise decision. One that I am in agreement with."

"To be honest, I trust your judgment. However you choose to deal with the situation will be acceptable." The older man grins at him, giving him a smile that reminds him of his own mother after their conversations together. It is a grin of satisfaction, as if the captain realizes he has assisted with Spock's dilemma. There is a paternal quality to Pike's expression; had Spock been completely human, it would have reminded him of his father and he would feel both comfort and sadness.

However, his Vulcan upbringing does not allow such sentimentality to overtake him. At the very least, Spock does recognize that he made the right choice to discuss his situation with Christopher Pike.

"Whatever might occur between you and this cadet, all I can say is do what you think is right and be careful."

"And what of the fact that you now know she is my aide? This will certainly appear in her records."

At this, Pike shrugs. "As far as I'm concerned, this conversation never took place."

Spock's brow creases minutely. "This is a lie?"

The captain responds, casually grinning. "More like a memory lapse." He gives Spock a small, subtle wink and starts walking again. Pike waves to a few cadets, who salute from a distance at both officers, and he continues to make his way toward the restaurant where they will have lunch.

Spock ponders the entirety of their discussion and the ensuing revelations. Out of the illogical, logic appears — logic that allows him to continue as a commander in the Academy without breaking the rules per se, but logic that could possibly lead to something with Nyota, should she decide to no longer be his aide.

This would be illogical. But Spock decides he does not care.

He moves forward to follow Captain Pike into the restaurant, resolved to spend some time tonight meditating so he may be ready for tomorrow.