Eggnog

Summary: Days away from being able to start a relationship Nyota is beset by doubts and uses a holiday party as an excuse to drown hers in eggnog. It takes an unexpected turn when Spock finds her.

Written for linstock for the LJ Spock/Uhura holiday exchange. She requested:

Wants:
1: Issues/problems/challenges concerning Spock's telepathy in the context of a relationship. Could be the "bond" or the touch aspect.
2: Uhura tipsy or inebriated in some way [its usually Spock under some influence I'd like to see this reversed.]
3: Some angst, possibly fearing the relationship wont work.

Doesn't Want:
1: Death
2: Babies [not Spock and Uhura anyway]
3: unfaithfulness [not Spock and Uhura anyway]

Nyota took another glass of eggnog. She was already a bit tipsy, but she didn't care. She liked eggnog and it was something she indulged in only once a year. Besides, being a little snockered might be a good thing right now - and this might be the last time she got to be.

In a few days the semester would be over. Spock would finish his term as an instructor and go back to being a post-doc student, which meant there would be no regulation against them being together. There was no doubt that they both wanted to be and Nyota had been counting the days for weeks. However, now that it was almost here she was suddenly beset by doubts. Not the usual doubts about starting a relationship either. Those usually centered on whether the guy was going to turn into a toad soon after being kissed (not exactly unusual in her experience), but Spock was not toad matierial. No, the doubts this time were about her own potential toad-ness.

She felt like Spock brought out the best in her, but could she be her best all time? More importantly, could she always be that best even within the confines of her own mind?

Vulcans were touch telepaths and the few times they'd touched thoughts and impressions had flowed like current across a superconductor. It was perhaps the reason that Spock had, in his own quiet, Vulcan way, courted her - that sort of instant connection was as close as Vulcans came to 'love at first sight'. And it had been magical for her as well - the sort of thing she'd thought was just the flowery language of romance novels until she'd she'd been touched by him. The smooth caress of his mind in hers that came with the bare brush of fingers was a marvelous secret, a tantalizing taste of future union.

She sighed, swallowing her drink. She still really, really wanted that union, but she was also a little intimidated and just a little bit afraid of it too.

Unlike a lot of past affairs, this wasn't casual and she couldn't begin to pretend that is was. 'Parting but never parted' was the formal language she'd read describing Vulcan bonds. If this went as far as she had expected it would, would she be able to live with the sense that someone was always there, poised to mentally read over her shoulder all the time?

They had talked about it of course. They'd take it gradually and it was understood that there were areas of the mind for both of them that would not to be entered without express invitation. However, that was a lot easier for him. A Vulcan could compartmentalize his thoughts in ways no human ever could. And he was the telepath here. Realistically, there was no door in her he couldn't unlock. Spock was practically honor personified, so rationally she knew that he'd never force his way in anywhere. Irrationally - and she was after all an irrational human woman - it was a daunting thought to commit to a relationship where the footing was so unequal.

Yet in all honesty, she was afraid the imbalance would be worse for Spock. He was a genius, not to mention calm, mature and disciplined, but with an inner warmth like a hearth fire - steady and sure. Nyota had her own sort of genius, and warmth, and to the outward observer she was calm, mature and disciplined. But the person she could be on the outside was somuch better than the one she wrestled to keep inside. That person was frequently difficult, petty, quick to anger, easily distracted, and given to stupid, if not downright embarrassing, thoughts and fantasies. And she had no real control over which thoughts popped into her head. Spock hadn't really seen that side of her, but if they became intimate, it was only a matter of time.

Worse yet, sometimes she liked being difficult or fantasizing or entertaining silly thoughts and just generally letting loose. Did having Spock mean giving up that side of herself? And even if she wanted to make that trade, could she?

Nyota picked up another glass of eggnog and downed it.

=/\=

Spock strode across campus. Vulcans did not worry. It was an illogical waste of mental effort. Therefore hedid not worry. He was however somewhat ...apprehensive... which was why he had checked Nyota's room and was now on his way to the holiday party she had apparently decided to attend.

He had submitted final grades thereby officially finishing his last duties as an instructor 5.479 hours ago. Although he and Nyota had agreed not to further their relationship until the semester had ended, he had expected to see her tonight. Indeed, he had expected, even anticipated, being cajoled into accepting that starting tonight would technically be in compliance with regulations.

That she had not come to him was therefore cause for ...concern.

They had deliberately avoided each other most of the last week, both because of the pressures associated with the term's end and to avoid the temptation to give in so close to the end. Now, however, that end could arguably be considered past. Why had she not arrived at his quarters to argue precisely that?

He entered the party, receiving a few astonished looks from former students but quickly brushed them aside.

"Mr. Spock," an inebriated Cadet Hannity observed. "Didn't expect to see you here. Come to see if we can still understand Romulan when we're three sheets to the wind?"

An eyebrow rose of its own accord. "I fail to understand how a nautical reference applies to the current situation, Cadet."

For some inexplicable reason, Hannity doubled over laughing.

Spock dismissed the anomaly. Humans frequently made little sense after imbibing alcohol sufficient to raise their blood levels beyond 0.08%. A scan of the recreational facility indicated that Nyota was not within. Therefore he proceeded to check the adjoining patio areas.

Upon examining the third one, he found her leaning against a piece of statuary. She appeared to be attempting to engage the carved faun in conversation.

Curious, he stopped in the shadows, listening.

"Sooo, Pan - I can call you Pan, right? You look like a Pan," she spoke with an uncharacteristic slur indicative of a distinct departure from her normal sobriety, "You look like you're a good lishener with those pointed ears - just like my boyfriend, but he's ...well, no offense, but a lothotter than you. I mean, long legs... gorgeous tight ass..." She sighed longingly and laughed. "I guesh you're wonderin' why I'm talkin' to you instead of fuckin' his brains out..."

Spock's eyebrows rose. It struck him as an excellent question. Alarmed as he was at Nyota's unusual impaired state, he very much wanted to hear the answer.

"Well, ish not that easy," Nyota continued. "This isn't jus' about sex, 'though that part should be great..."

That was gratifying to hear, although it forced him consider the 'not easy' aspect causing her concern. Spock was far from inexperienced. In fact his third year at the Academy had involved considerable 'self-directed study' on the topic of Vulcan/human intercourse. He had learned a great deal about technique and pleasurable stimuli, but had never developed a sense of attachment in those experiments - a fact that resulted in unintended harm to a biology student he had valued as a friend. After the unfortunate incident with Leila Kalomi, he had (somewhat regretfully) decided to abandon that line of research. It had seemed better to confine future study to whatever woman his parents might propose to replace the annulled bond to T'Pring.

But that had been before Cadet Nyota Uhura had appeared in his class and later, after a touch had overwhelmed him with shon-ha-lok, began to appear in some very vivid dreams. He almost stepped forward to reassure her, but her next words held him back.

"The not-so-great part ish him seeing my mind. I try to keep it all neat and organized, but ish a mess up there! He sezhe knows about human minds 'cause o' his mother." She looked earnestly at the statue. "Have you e'er met Lady Amanda? She's all zen an' serer- serner- ser'nity. If Vulcans compare you to their mothers like humans do, I'm DOOMED. ...might as well give up now."

Nyota threw an arm around the statue and started crying.

Spock very nearly ran to her, but halted two steps in. If she was afraid of his reaction to the disorder in her sober mind, how would she react to his presence while in this state? Shame was an emotion that affected even Vulcans, and it was one he had struggled with too often in his childhood and later life to imagine that it was easily overcome. The instinctive response was to distance oneself from its perceived source. It would be immensely distressing if she were to react to him in that manner.

As he considered the situation further, it appeared plain that this lapse had been occasioned by 'second thoughts'. His mother had advised him that this was a normal response to an approaching change in the status of an important relationship. She had had 'second thoughts' about bonding to Sarek, but it had not ultimately affected the her attachment to him. The wisest path might be to allow Nyota privacy to work through them.

A loud sob jolted him from his thoughts. On the other hand, as Capt. Pike was wont to say, 'sometimes there's a thin line between careful deliberation and cowardice'. Nyota was in distress. That was the only consideration that should matter.

He moved toward her, pausing to call softly "Nyota."

She did not appear to have heard him.

Spock touched her shoulder. "Ny-"

"AHHH!" Her eyes went as wide a saucers. "Spock, don't- ...don't sneak up on people like that!"

Several people came to the doorway at her exclamation. Spock turned to face them. What was the appropriate earth phrase? 'Move along. Nothing to see here'? He drew himself into a dignified stance. "There is no cause for concern. Cadet Uhura was merely startled by my presence."

A few exchanged looks indicated that those present considered his presence reason enough for anyone to be startled. After brief consideration, they quickly departed.

"Spock, you shouldn' be here. I'm ...I've had too many of these." Nyota looked down, vaguely waving a cup of creamy liquid as she half-sobbed. "I just really like it but once we're together I won' have anymore. I won't-"

Spock lifted the cup from her fingers and swallowed the remaining contents. He pursed his lips, considering the beverage. It contained a considerable amount of liquor, which largely masked the other flavors, but it was rather smooth. "The consistency is not unpleasant. I would not be adverse to sharing this with you in the future," he allowed a corner of his mouth to tip upward, "although perhaps in more limited quantities."

She gave a sudden mirthless laugh. "Yeah, I shoulda limited my quanitties. Didn' wan' you to see me like this.."

"Do not be distressed." He reached out to lift her chin and felt a shock of true distress when she shied away.

"Don't," Nyota held a hand up to ward off his touch. "I can't think straight - all muddled, even more than normal."

Spock considered her for a moment. "My prior bondmate had an very ordered mind, Nyota. She was a brilliant logician, but not a good match." He turned his head, seeking to meet her eye. "I find your 'muddle', as you put it, endlessly fascinating."

"Oh, Spock!" Her arms switched form the statue to his neck and Spock was flooded with a rush of conflicting emotions - relief, worry, guilt, acceptance, fear, and over all Love. Her lips brushed along his neck and despite the cool San Francisco night, he suddenly felt unaccountably warm.

Indeed, a fire was rising in his chest. Getting somewhere away from prying eyes was immediately imperative. "Nyota, there is nothing about you that I do not desire. Please, come."

=/\=

Wow. That was really about the only thought she could process right now. Later, she might still have some reservations about telepathy, but that had been incredible. Feeling the sensations in both her body and his - from first penetration, to an ecstatic dual orgasm, to the bliss of a shared afterglow - again, Wow.

And Spock had been, well, passionate. It wasn't at all what she'd expected, but she had definitely liked it. Maybe her emotions weren't going to be such a big obstacle after all. She glanced at the sleeping man using her chest as a pillow and noticed her shoulder. Covering the marks from love bites might prove to be a bit of a challenge though. It seemed Vulcans were full of surprises.

He stirred and she sensed a wash of delight but also confusion. It was quickly pushed behind mental walls, which was both a relief and also somehow troubling.

Lifting his head and propping himself on an elbow, Spock examined the marks on her flesh and though he'd established his shields, the tips of his ears went a tell tale green.

"Forgive me, Nyota. I did not intend to harm you."

"This?" She almost laughed. "It's just a love bite."

"I did not cause any other damage?"

"No, of course not."

He didn't look terribly reassured.

"Spock, what's this about? Why are you so concerned?"

"Nyota, I was not... This was not as I planned to behave." Spock paused, brows drawing into a vee. "The drink you shared with me last night; what was it?"

"That was eggnog. Milk, brandy - lotsof brandy, thanks for the detox hypo by the way - nutmeg and cinnamon."

An eyebrow rose. "Cinnamon?"

"That isn't a problem, is it?" She narrowed her eyes a little. "You told us that those rumors about certain earth flavorings having intoxicating effects on Vulcans were myths. You even ate a bunch of Hersey's bars to prove it."

Spock glanced downward. "It is a myth that Vulcans can become inebriated by chocolate. However, while Vulcans cannot lie directly, we can dissemble. In disproving the chocolate hypothesis, I allowed the audience to conclude that all similar rumors were also untrue."

"Like cinnamon as an aphrodisiac? Spock, is that why you were so... eager?"

A corner of his mouth turned slightly upward. "I was 'eager' long before inbibing your eggnog. However, my level of eagerness did increase beyond what I had anticipated. My mind was awash in lust. I hope it was not... distasteful."

"Distasteful?" Nyota laughed. "I was afraid my mind would put you straight off. I just hope you won't need a big dose of cinnamon to still want me after you see what's really in there."

"Nyota, I know what is there. My mother learned to be 'zen and serenity' outwardly, but her mind was filled with mischief and mirth. She took great delight in trying to distract us with it. I admit that I was once sought to avoid that, but I have come to value the creative insight that arose from that seeming disorder." His hand caressed hers and Nyota felt a different sort of eagerness - for discovery and new ideas. "I am more concerned that you will grow tired of the order and lack of surprise in my mind."

Nyota stroked his cheek, reaching up to his temple. "Lack of surprise? From someone devious enough to eat chocolate to hide the truth about cinnamon? I don't think so." She kissed him, grinning as she pulled her lips a hair's breath away. "And if I ever do, I have a great recipe for cinnamon buns."

AN: Although the request involved angst, I'm not good at sustained angst and it's the holidays - I had to write a happy ending.