Dry Pavements
The first time she notices him he is walking in the rain. The shields are activated, covering the walkways, and while the pavement is crowded, at least it's dry. First Year Cadet Nyota Uhura finds herself stopping at the edge of the overhang, stray droplets dripping over onto her red uniform, catching on her long eyelashes, sliding down the edge of her PADD. She has never seen a Vulcan do something like this before – walking across the quad with his arms around himself, shivering in the cold, the severe fringe pushed up and back against his forehead. He looks…vulnerable.
She watches him until someone bumps into her. She looks over in annoyance at the apologizing cadet. Though the glance she spares is but seconds, when she turns back, the Vulcan is gone.
***
All Vulcans look the same from a certain distance – cold and severe. At least, that's what all the cadets say amongst themselves, snickering under their breath during classes but doing loud caricatures in the mess hall. It is perhaps a peculiar achievement that, in a place as diverse as Starfleet, with a mission of peace and integration, they can persist in such prejudice. Nyota Uhura frowns at this behavior – most of the time. But sometimes she laughs at the outrageousness of it all. And sometimes, she believes it. After all, all the Vulcans she has met have been distant at best, haughty and superior the rest of the time.
Sometimes a fleeting image in grey mist, arms around himself, rises in her mind but then Harold Davis is doing those eyebrow gestures and as she dissolves in laughter, so does the image.
***
She has heard of Commander Spock of course. He has been hailed as one of the Academy's most distinguished graduates – brilliant even by Vulcan standards; the programmer of the notorious Kobayashi Maru test – sadistic in accordance to Vulcan practice perhaps; former junior science officer under Captain Christopher Pike and likely second-in-command under the new captain of the flagship Enterprise. "They're actually friends," her roommate, a computer engineering-tracked Orion, verifies. The idea is dismissed by Uhura and the rest of the cadets. Friends. Did Vulcans have friends? "Pike probably appreciates his logic," one of them remarks. Yes, that is right. Orions are prone to hyperbole anyway. What Galia really means is associates, colleagues, something more…distant.
Along other channels of information, Uhura learns he is attractive. "For a Vulcan, you mean?" she laughs, imagining the severe haircut and the upswept brow. "Nah uh," replies Saturnis, a Tellarite. Though she shakes her head, her snout seems to lead. Uhura is distracted and almost misses the rest of Saturnis' commentary. "For a humanoid."
***
From the first moment Commander Spock walks into Captain L'tel's Advanced Phonology class as a last minute substitute, Second Year Cadet Nyota Uhura realizes she has to throw all her preconceptions of Vulcans out the window. Perhaps off planet. His stride is brisk and efficient, his hair cut as severe as any Vulcan's and the top of his ears end in the telltale point. But even from where she is seated, five rows up, to the far left side of where he stops and looks up, she notices that his eyes are not black and unfathomable but a warm brown. He stands straight with his hands clasped behind his back, nods once, and begins to lecture.
***
"So what do you think of the cute Vulcan?" Galia laughs after she catches Uhura staring at a blank space of wall in their room and gets her to admit that she has finally met the infamous Commander Spock.
***
Uhura does not go to office hours. She can complete her work competently on her own and dislikes the sense of brownnosing she associates with following a professor around. She suspects that Commander Spock's office hours are full anyway. There are constantly students – mostly female – that create an impenetrable circle around him at the end of lecture, clutching their PADDs, talking over each other and at him.
She only talks to him once. He hands back midterms, individually, and when he holds out hers – a near perfect mark displayed along the top margin – he says in his rich baritone, "An admirable performance, Cadet." "Thank you," she replies. She keeps her face blank but there's an odd fluttering in her stomach.
She only touches him once too. Their fingers accidentally slide against each other as she takes the PADD from him. The odd fluttering in her stomach is forgotten, suppressed or overcome, she does not know, when the feeling of electricity courses through her. For the rest of class, she looks intently at Commander Spock though he does not look at her. When she leaves, she realizes she did not understand a word that came from his beautiful mouth.
***
In her third year, it rains more than ever and it irritates Uhura that she has to push along the crowded pavements to get to her destination. As advanced as technology has become in the twenty-fourth century, they are still unable to control the weather. Butterfly effect, Galia tries explaining once. Uhura shakes her head. Galia sighs and just says, too many variables, and not worth the bother.
Uhura disagrees, especially when she gets sick during the second week of constant rain. Her nose is running and even when she leaves early, she always seems to arrive to class late. Commander Spock looks to the door when she enters three minutes late to his Romulus class. It's the third class she has taken with him.
It is unlike her but Uhura finds herself ducking her head, not meeting his eyes. She then sneezes all over her PADD and does not look up during the rest of the class.
***
She finishes her final early but falls asleep on her stomach, half hanging off the bed. She slips off at 1900 hours, two full hours after the deadline has passed. She curses in six languages before she picks herself off the ground and grabs her PADD and starts running. She curses in a seventh language when she finds it is still raining. Though the shielded pavements are dry, she must run in perpendicular lines. When she nears to the officer housing, she finally curses in Standard. The last two shields are broken and she has to run across the grounds in the rain.
She misses his name the first time she goes through the roster. She has to slow herself down and her teeth chatter as she moves her fingers down the row of S's. Spock. Spock. Spock. E-14. She climbs the steps, nearly tripping four times on the way up, and when she approaches his door, she realizes she does not know what to say, if her justifications are good enough for a Vulcan, and how awful she must look, wet, in crumpled clothing with her arms wrapped around her shivering frame and her hair tangled and askew. She is embarrassed but she is here so she presses the intercom.
He is unexpectedly wearing Academy sweats. She has never imagined him out of his uniform before. Well, perhaps she has but not… She shakes her head and tries to speak past her chattering teeth… "Commander Spock, I apologize for disturbing you at –"
"Perhaps you should come in, Cadet. The cold does not seem to agree with you."
She nods, a bit surprised at the invitation but grateful nonetheless and follows him into his quarters. She thought they would be Spartan but they are not. It is neat and uncluttered but there are personal items decorating the apartment and even a colorful red and orange painting on the far wall. She wishes she could get a look at it. She barely registers he has left the room until he walks back from what is presumably his bedroom. He has a towel in his hands.
"Your sickness will certainly be aggravated unless you take precaution," he gently admonishes, draping the towel around her shoulders. She takes a breath in – he oddly smells like the rain. It is only when he moves back does she notice that his balcony window is slid back and the sound of the rain sounds calm, drumming on the concrete just beyond the glass.
He follows her gaze and says, "I like the rain, but if you are too cold, I can close the window."
"No, no," she shakes her head. She notices for the first time, it is actually quite warm in his chambers. She tells him as much.
"Yes, I usually keep my quarters 11.2 degrees higher than what humans normally set their temperature controls at. I tend to lower them when I am accommodating guests but it seems that perhaps this would be the one time where the warmer setting is welcomed." He inclines his head toward her and she nods. Uhura finds herself at a lost of words, the slight angle of his head somehow immensely interesting and the idle thought of – some communications expert you will be – flits through her mind before he speaks again. "Was there something I could help you with, Cadet Uhura?"
Uhura blushes, both because of the embarrassing task before her and because he knows her name. Uhura is the kind of student who is known to professors and she is proud of this but for some reason, it does not occur to her that Commander Spock would take special care to know it. Or perhaps he knows because of his extensive memory. She looks down for a second to gather her thoughts. "Yes, I apologize for not turning in my final on time. I've been ill and I fell asleep. I realize this is not really an adequate excuse but I –"
Spock holds up his hand and Uhura stops. Her stomach sinks. He won't let her turn it in. But then she purses her lips – no, she does not deserve to fail a class based on a technicality. Surely he must know she is talented and capable. But before she can speak again, he does.
"I am aware of your illness. Your roommate, Cadet A'hteta, informed me of your circumstances and forwarded me your final examination. I thought she would have likewise informed you."
Uhura looks down at her PADD. Only, it's not her PADD. It's Galia's and it has a short note on there for her. I didn't want to wake you, honey, so I just took your PADD for you. Commander Spock knows I know nothing about languages so don't worry, he accepted it.
Uhura looks back up at Spock. "Oh," is all she can manage and then she sneezes again, all over Galia's PADD. She doesn't want to open up her eyes again and see the look on Commander Spock's face but even so, she is not the kind of person to slink away no matter how embarrassing the situation is. So, she takes a deep breath and opens her eyes and looks into his.
They are filled with…amusement. At first, Uhura does not think this is possible, but then his lips quirk up at the corners. "Do you like walking in the rain, Cadet Uhura?" he asks.
The question throws Uhura further off. She does not know why he has asked it. Maybe he has been looking at the mess her hair has become from the rain. She reaches up and touches it conscientiously. "No, no, not at all. The last few shields leading to the officer housing were broken."
"Hmm, pity."
And Uhura does not know what he means until he turns and reaches out with one hand, palm up, to the rain outside. Then she recalls that he has said that he likes the rain and even though he shivers slightly as it collects on his hand, he still holds his hand out. It is only then that she realizes he is the Vulcan she had seen her first year, walking across the quad in the rain.
"You like rain."
"Yes," he says, turning back to her, one brow arched. "I think I said that a mere 3.2 minutes ago." He pauses for a second, tilting his head to the side, as though considering something. "It never rains in Shi'Kahr. I find rain…fascinating."
"Oh. Uh, I suppose you dislike how crowded the pavement gets, too," she offers, remembering how Vulcans dislike being touched.
"Yes, and dry pavements are simply overrated. There's beauty in the breakdown."
Uhura drops her hand from her hair, no longer feeling self-conscious about it under the warmth of Spock's gaze. "Hmmm, that's…fascinating."