What Spock Wants

Note: Was asked recently (apparently as the most proximate ST wonk): So, if emotions are in bad taste on Vulcan, what do those guys want? Why would they work so hard all the time? (And, do they like their jobs? To this last, I simply say: Presumably they do, but wouldn't admit it…)

This little story had already been written; but, since I now have evidence that somebody else thinks about these things, I figured I'd share.

Disclaimer: I neither own nor control the Vulcans, nor do I make money from the brilliant things they do and say in my head. (More's the pity.) I just try not to shame them.

What Spock Wants

Nyota Uhura was irate. As she dressed, she fumed, and allowed herself every perverse enjoyment she could get from her abrupt actions.

She pulled her hair back even more severely than normal - The end of her pony-tail flipped when she dropped her hands from tightening the band that held it.

She planted her hands on her hips and turned furiously on the only person who was within range of her rage. "Captain James T. Kirk is the most selfish self-centered person I have ever met in my life!"

The recipient of her words said nothing. He understood that the words were not said for his benefit.

"He knew how badly I wanted to hit the Base this morning, and now…" She hurled her hairbrush at the bed, where it bounced twice, ineffectually, before falling to the floor with a very soft thud, "I have to work."

He pulled on his blue uniform shirt before silently moving to pick up the brush. She would be distressed, later, to find that she had succumbed to the urge to throw it.

She had finished the last of her morning preparations, and would have to depart in eleven-point-four minutes.

She would enjoy her day less if she were to remain in this state. He moved toward her.

"How could he do this to me, Spock? How?" This last was a hip-handed head-back howl of frustration.

Behind her now, he put his arm around her waist and eased her body back to contact with his own. He gently kissed the side of her throat. As he felt the tension beginning to leave her form, he answered her question, his lips still sliding over her smooth skin, "I think you will find, Nyota, that the Captain is deserving of the benefit of the doubt in this situation. He may not often choose to explain his reasoning, but it is safe to say that it has occurred."

His other arm encircled her, and his voice was low and tranquil. "Perhaps he recognizes that you are the most efficient and sensitive communications officer employed upon this vessel." He felt the sigh even as he heard it.

He slid one palm down to rest on her hand where it still lay on her hip. "Perhaps he feels safer knowing that you are the one monitoring his frequency. He must: He often trusts you with his life."

Her body sagged against his lightly.

He placed one more kiss before moving his lips up so that his breath caressed her ear. "And perhaps, as I do, he takes pleasure in hearing the joy your voice contains when you say the word 'Enterprise.'