Nyota

After seeing her mother Nyota headed across town to the Academy to prepare for her departure on the Enterprise the next day.

Her dormitory was a disaster zone.

Gaila had obviously been 'packing' in preparation for her deployment. Clothes were strewn across every available surface and hung off everything else. There were four overflowing duffel bags on Gaila's bed. Three were closed. The fourth was overflowing with what looked like perhaps twenty pairs of shoes. Most of them heels. Nyota shook her head. She doubted very much that they were under the regulation weight limit for personal belongings. No doubt Gaila had devised some means to get her extensive wardrobe aboard however. 'Charmed' a few of the transfer staff perhaps.

Her room-mate herself was not in evidence.

It took Nyota almost two hours to pack a suitable selection of clothing and other belongings. In the end two tightly packed duffel bags were enough. The rest of her belongings she packed into storage boxes to be shipped to her parent's house in Nairobi. There was not a great deal. She had attempted to remain spartan during her time at the Academy knowing she'd eventually be deployed and that there was no point collecting knick-knacks.

She attached identification tags to the bags and took them to the drop-off point for deploying personnel. The long racks were filled with an assortment of personal belongings - bags, boxes and in one case, what appeared to be a very large pair of skis. They were to be transported to the ship via transporter beam and would, theoretically, be waiting for her in her quarters when she reported to the Enterprise. She'd heard horror stories about bags ending up delivered to ships on the opposite side of the galaxy to their owners however. With that in mind she'd kept a few essentials back to beam up with her. She didn't want to end up stuck in replicated underwear.

Returning to the room, now significantly cleaner and emptier than two hours previously, she showered and changed into a fresh uniform. She took a third, significantly lighter, duffel in hand and picked up the small potted rosebush that had sat on her desk for the last year. It had been Spock's. A 'botanical arrangement' for his office given to him by his mother - a cutting from her garden on Vulcan. Nyota was uncertain what to do with it. She thought perhaps Amanda would like it back since she'd lost her garden. If not, maybe she'd take it on board with her. She had a few kilos left on her baggage quota and the flowers had a very nice perfume to them. Taking a rosebush on board wasn't any weirder than taking skis she told herself.

The trip on the hoverbus to the Vulcan Embassy was awkward encumbered with a large bag and a pot-plant. The mid-afternoon heat didn't help matters and she felt slightly rumpled by the time she entered the building. It was very warm inside by human standards and although that usually wouldn't bother her, (she was African after all), after her flustered journey across the city she would have welcomed the cool blast of air conditioning kept at human levels.

The foyer was just as crowded as it had been all week. For the most part the people were Vulcan and human, but there was a sprinkling of more exotic races as well. The non-Vulcans were either milling around the waiting area looking bored or being cleared for entrance by the security guards. The Vulcans present were all clearly awaiting the arrival of guests or business contacts. As she watched two humans in suits with PADDs in hand breezed past her to politely greet a Vulcan woman who had been standing nearby. From the snatches of conversation she overheard they were bankers of some sort come to discuss the woman's business assets.

She made her way towards the bank of turbolifts, ignoring the weird looks she got due to the pot plant. Spock was somewhere above her in the building, their bond stretched between them. She both dreaded and longed to be at his side. All day she'd been avoiding thinking about the fact that she'd soon be parted from him for perhaps years. Soon she'd have to face that fact though.

'Ma'am?'

Nyota turned to regard the speaker. It was one of the Consulate's security staff. She'd hoped to avoid a security check. She'd been in and out of the Embassy all week after all and Vulcans were supposed to have perfect memories. Apparently not this one however.

She inhaled through her nose trying to remain pleasant and polite despite her irritation. The guard was just doing his job. But still, she was hot and uncomfortable - the plant was awkward in her arms and her bag dug into her shoulder. The last thing she wanted was to play twenty questions and get frisked. She glanced around at the other guards, hoping someone she had encountered previously would be present to ease her way through security without need for detailed explanation. A few looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't be sure.

'It is a requirement of entry to the Vulcan Consulate that all visitors provide valid identification and state the nature of their business.' the Vulcan who'd pulled her aside coolly informed her.

She sighed impatiently and shifted the plant to her hip.

'I am S'chn T'gai Nyota. Wife of Spock.' she replied in Vulcan getting straight to the point.

The guard did not react to her pronouncement as she had expected. There was no bowing and 'Lady Nyota'ing.

'Valid Identification is required-' the guard began.

Nyota shoved her Starfleet ID chip in his direction. The guard broke of mid-sentence. Scanned it. Looked intently at the information that appeared on his console screen. Nyota put her bag down on the floor beside her and shifted the rose from one arm to the other. The muscles in her left shoulder were beginning to protest.

'This identification is invalid.' the guard said.

Nyota blinked. Glanced at the screen. It looked exactly as it should.

'Sorry what?' she asked with more human vagueness than she'd usually use with a Vulcan.

The guard's eyes were flat, his voice even. 'I cannot grant you entry to the Consulate without valid identification.' he replied.

'I have provided valid identification.' Nyota responded. 'That ID is current.'

'No you have not. The information on this ID chip is incorrect.'

'What information?' Was the data corrupted? Some error or glitch in the chip? Nyota glanced at the screen once more. She didn't notice anything.

'S'chn T'gai Spock does not have a wife. Therefore this identification is not valid.'

Nyota stared at the guard. She belatedly noticed the slightly… smug, superior tilt to his eyebrows. She only detected it because she was married to Spock, he most definitely did have a wife, and she was intimately familiar with Vulcan facial cues.

She recalled her conversation with T'Pau. Elder Sosik had gossiped about the p'pil'lay, told everyone they were divorced. Clearly this guard thought it appropriate to react to the supposed severing of their bond. As if it was any of his business. Anger crept through her. She consciously calmed herself, kept her expression bland.

She stepped forward and placed the potted plant upon his desk with slightly more force than perhaps necessary. A dead leaf fell onto the surface of the desk. The guard frowned slightly, no doubt horrified she risked getting dirt on his desk. She restrained the urge to snap at him. 'You require additional verification of my identity?' she managed to inquire almost politely.

'Affirmative.'

'Very well.'

Nyota reached towards Spock. Instantly he reached back, feeling her distress. She felt wordless query. In response she formed a thought carefully in her mind. Concentrated. Focused on her inexact, fallible human memories of him. The warmth of his skin beneath her fingers, the silk of his hair, the darkness of his eyes. Their bond flared to life as it had when last she'd reached so strongly for him. She pressed her careful words towards him.

/Spock. Please come downstairs and explain to security that I am still your wife./

He heard her, understood. She felt him forming a response and braced herself accordingly.

/I come my wife./

His words rippled through her like a wave of heat. She felt his breath against her neck. She inhaled sharply and, impossibly, smelt the scent of his skin. Her eyes had closed of their own volition. She was certain that he was standing right in front of her. If she lifted her hand she would surely touch him standing there. Her skin flushed and her heart skipped. It imbued her, the desire to touch him and join their thoughts properly. But she had been prepared for it this time, she pulled away from him slightly. The teasing phantom of him cleared from her senses. She no longer smelt him or sensed his body heat just out of reach.

She opened her eyes. The guard was staring at her.

'If you cannot provide adequate identification you will have to vacate the premises Lieutenant.' he said.

Nyota ignored him. She could feel Spock coming. The compulsion to seek him out was there, but she'd been expecting it this time, it tugged at her but did not affect her in the manner it had when she had first tried the tel'esta with him.

The guard was speaking, his tone slightly confrontational.

Although she was far more in control of her response to the tel'esta she found she was not listening. His words were an intelligible tangle. Translating standard into her native Swahili was usually something which required no conscious effort at all, at that moment however, it was apparently beyond her. She could not bring herself to care.

His slightly raised voice was gaining them an audience. She glanced around the foyer. People were openly, and not so openly, staring. No doubt many of the Vulcans found her apparent humiliation at the hands of the guard to be 'satisfactory'.

Nyota felt the tingle of Spock travelling rapidly towards her. She turned towards the bank of turbolifts. A door opened. Spock appeared. His eyes met hers with a heat that had her heart skipping again and her body seeming to catch aflame. She dug her fingernails into her palms so she would not run across the room and throw herself at him.

He wore a charcoal grey Starfleet instructor's uniform. Nyota had not seen him in one since… before. He looked as gorgeous and handsome in it as ever, his broad shoulders, long lean limbs and perfect posture highlighted by the severe cut and colour of the uniform. He strode across the foyer. Nyota was aware of the guard glancing at her.

Spock did not stop a respectable distance from her and greet her. He walked right up to her, took her hand in his and pulled her into a half embrace against him. In Vulcan custom his behaviour was about as subtle as grabbing her and giving her a french kiss. Quite out of character for him. Apparently he had not been as prepared for the Tel'esta as she had been. She could not bring herself to feel any guilt over the matter however. Her eyes slipped from his to glance down with longing at his mouth. She was tempted to kiss him, see if he'd allow it. With effort she restrained herself and forced her gaze back up to his.

His fingers shifted against hers, his thoughts aligning as closely as possible through such a connection. It soothed her, calmed the need the tel'esta had awoken in her. The fact that she could feel that he wanted to kiss her did not sooth her control in that regard however.

He leant down towards her, bringing their faces temptingly close together. He spoke in High Vulcan.

'My wife. What hath delayed thee?'

As always she found hearing him speak in the archaic dialect incredibly attractive. It leant an extra depth of feeling to his voice that affected her keenly.

'According to this one,' she said gesturing towards the Vulcan, 'I am not thy wife.'

Spock shot a look at the guard. Nyota had not ever seen quite the expression he now wore on his face. She was reminded very vividly of Sarek. The guard appeared to wilt slightly. Nyota took pleasure in that fact, petty as it was. Spock did not say anything, just turned away from the other Vulcan, dismissing him. He hefted her duffel in one hand, maintaining his grip on her with the other. Sensing his intent Nyota picked up the rose with her free arm and signalled her readiness to leave through their joined hands. Spock led her towards the lifts.

They had not taken four steps before the guard called out to them.

'Sir, all visitors to the consulate are required to provide valid identification and state the purpose of their visit.'

Nyota felt Spock's shock. He had not considered the guard would ever do something so rude as to continue with his charade of a security check now that Spock had made it exceedingly obvious that Nyota was his. She came to a stop beside him.

Spock turned back to the guard and spoke in rapid, sharp high Vulcan.

'This is she who is my wife. I trust this provides sufficient clarification for thee?'

The guard was silent for a long moment before he replied. When he did so it was in standard Vulcan. 'Ah, Osasu Spohkh, forgive me but I do not speak the high tongue.'

Spock had not expected him too. He was belittling the man in response to his rudeness. Nyota felt another wave of petty enjoyment. Her husband was more dignified in his emotional responses. He wasn't taking any pleasure in the interaction at all, was just irritated that the man would insult her.

Spock looked at the guard silently for a long moment. Nyota felt that he did it intentionally to make him squirm. At length he deigned to speak in standard. 'You are unaware of the identity of this woman and her purpose within the embassy?' he inquired.

The guard glanced from Spock to Nyota and back again. 'She is… she is your human.'

From the way he said it he might as well have been referring to a pet sehlat.

Nyota was uncertain if he could have said anything that would have angered her husband more. He despised hearing the word 'human' used in such a dismissive manner, especially in reference to her or his mother. Nyota spoke through their fingers. /There is no offence where none is taken. I am human and I am yours./ she reassured him.

Spock's voice was cool when he spoke. 'She is not 'my human'. She is Okosu S'chn T'gai Nyota of House Solkar of the Clan of Surak. She is my wife.'

The guard looked almost taken aback, for a Vulcan at least. 'Forgive me Okasu Spock. It was said you divorced your human.'

Spock's irritation grew exponentially at the guard's continued reference to her as his 'human'.

'Who are thee to speak of mine kin in such disrespect?' The voice was heavily accented, the standard archaic. Nyota recognised it instantly.

She turned.

T'Pau, in all her be-robed and headress-ed glory, flanked by two attendants in matching robes, stood near the turbolifts. Nyota was exceedingly glad she was not on the receiving end of the look currently adorning her face.

The guard definitely looked taken aback, Vulcan or not. His eyes were wide, his expression quite transparent. He bowed very deeply and kept his head lowered in extreme deference. 'Okosu T'Pau. Forgive me please, if I have misspoken.'

As he spoke T'Pau glided forward to stand near Nyota and Spock.

'You have misspoken. Do not do so again.' She turned to face Nyota, abruptly dismissing the guard. 'Granddaughter. Attend me.' She spoke in High Vulcan as she had during their conversation that morning. At her words one of her attendants stepped forward and relieved Nyota of the rose.

'Of course honourable grandmother.' Nyota replied, trying not to look too confused, and took the place the attendant had vacated. T'Pau rested her hand on Nyota's forearm. Spock fell into step beside them. Nyota got the impression that T'Pau had deigned to come downstairs simply to make it plain to all that not only was she very much Spock's wife, she was accepted by T'Pau. No doubt it was a purely logical exercise on her part to prevent further gossip about her family, but still a nice gesture.

'Thy Van-Kal-Vuhlkansu is quite superior granddaughter.' T'Pau remarked as they made their way towards the bank of turbolifts. 'Thou speaks it with the fluency of a daughter born to the high clans rather than married.'

Nyota suspected that the reason T'Pau was speaking to her now in it was so that she would demonstrate that superior fluency to those observing them. Nyota glanced around the foyer. Many of the Vulcans present wore rich robes, but Nyota did not see any with the marking of the high clans on their robes. It was unlikely any of those present could follow their conversation fully. But they would understand enough to realise that Spock's wife spoke High Vulcan. Which was of course, T'Pau's intent.

'You honour me Lady T'Pau. I studied it for several years, but held no hope for any particular fluency ere I met Spohkh. It is one of the most difficult languages I have learnt.'

'The Lady Amanda hath not thy fluency, despite years of study.' T'Pau said.

Nyota recalled the long ago mindmeld with Spock when she'd been injured. In an attempt to keep her awake he'd given her an impromptu lesson in High Vulcan. He'd spoken the language for her and she'd observed the exact way his throat and mouth formed the words from within their joined minds. It was unlikely Amanda had attempted such a thing with Sarek. 'I believe I could be of assistance to the Lady Amanda in this regard.'

'Perhaps. But she hath not thy skill. How many languages art thou fluent in?' T'Pau inquired as they stepped into a lift.

'I am currently fluent in 82% of the languages spoken within the Federation, along with the more prevalent of those spoken outside it, Klingon, Romulan, Cardassian and the like. In total some 108 distinct forms of communication. Several are dialects of the same root language however.' she replied.

'That is impressive for one so young.' T'Pau remarked lightly.

'I thank thee.'

The elderly Vulcan did not make any move to leave the lift when it arrived at the small guarded foyer before Sarek's private residence. 'I shall not see thee before thy departure with thy ship on the morrow. Peace and Long life to you granddaughter Nyota,' she inclined her head towards Spock ' – and to thee Spohkh.'

Nyota lifted her hand in the ta'al. 'Live long and prosper honoured grandmother T'Pau.'

Spock repeated the gesture and sentiment while Nyota retrieved the rose from the attendant that had been holding it. The lift doors closed and Nyota shot a confused glance at Spock at his grandmother's unexpected... 'visit'? His left eyebrow made a small movement. Apparently he was as mystified as she.

The guards triggered the doors to Sarek's Apartments.

Once inside Nyota put the pot plant down on the nearest flat surface. The little plant with its sweet smelling pink blooms looked incongruous, slightly ridiculous, surrounded by the severe formal Vulcan décor. Nyota smiled widely at Spock and took his hand, leading him towards their room. She felt his bemusement but complied.

She pressed herself against him even as the door slid shut behind them. 'Kiss me.' she demanded.

'Who am I to deny one clearly so favoured by the great T'Pau herself?' Spock replied with something very close to sarcasm.

'You are just jealous that your dear old nan likes me more than you.' she replied with a smug smile.

His eyebrow went skywards once more. 'Dear old nan.' he repeated. 'Please be sure and refer to her as such when next I am present to observe her reaction.'

'Perhaps I shall.' she responded archly. 'And you still haven't kissed me.'

'You have not stopped talk – '

Impatiently, Nyota cut him off, standing on her toes to press her lips against his. His arms wrapped around her automatically, pulling her firmly against the heat of his body as his mouth moved against hers. It was a languid kiss. A good kiss. Nyota enjoyed it very much.

'When will I have to leave here to make it to the Enterprise by 08:00 hours?' she inquired, pulling her lips a few centimetres from his.

'Assuming you utilise one of the shuttles here rather than travelling to Starfleet headquarters for a scheduled transport to Spacestation 1, 07:09 hours would provide you sufficient time.' as soon as he finished he attempted to kiss her again, but Nyota pulled back slightly.

'So how long until 07:09 hours?' she asked.

'15 hours 48 minutes 18 seconds.' he answered automatically before pressing his lips to hers again. This time Nyota returned the pressure for a few seconds before pulling away.

'How many times can you make love to me in 15 hours 48 minutes and whatever seconds?' she inquired almost seriously. Knowing him he'd probably calculate an answer automatically, before he had a chance to be scandalised by her brazenness.

'Zero if you do not stop interrupting me.' he replied.

Nyota laughed. 'Oh! So this is you making love to me?' she teased.

'On 92.3% of the occasions in which we have been alone and you have kissed me, we have consequently engaged in sexual intercourse.'

Both his tone and words amused her. 'Well, it would be illogical to argue with such figures.' she replied.

This time when he bent his head to kiss her she didn't pull away, she pulled him closer. Several minutes later she found herself flustered and out of breath upon the bed. Spock was in the process of removing his jacket. She assisted him, admiring the pleasing way the dark material contrasted with his beautiful pale, faintly greenish skin as she undid the fastenings. As she pushed the sleeves down past his elbows she sighed. 'I'm going to miss this uniform.' she observed mournfully.

Spock shot her a look that managed to communicate his disbelief that she would chose now to make such an observation with just the barest of movement of his left eyebrow.

'Don't look at me like that. You are perfectly aware that you look 'exceedingly aesthetically pleasing' in it.' she replied leaning forward and pressing kisses up his neck towards his ear.

'On the contrary, I had always thought it rather…' he paused as she found his earlobe with her mouth and bit it slightly. '… utilitarian in its appearance.' One of his warm hands was sliding firmly up her thigh and under her skirt, the other was nimbly undoing the fastenings on her own jacket.

'It's what you were wearing the first time I saw you. You looked so tall and gorgeous. I had to give myself an internal peptalk not to instantly fall in love with you.' Nyota said as Spock pushed her jacket down over her shoulders.

'Were you successful?' he inquired quite distractedly from where he was exploring the line of her neck with his usual fastidious attention to detail. The hand on her leg had curled its way up and around her backside, shoving her skirt up with it.

'Judging from the fact that I'm currently sitting in your lap lamenting the loss of your aesthetically superior instructor's uniform, I think I can give a resounding 'no' to that question.'

Nyota was quite pleased with herself, it was a remarkably coherent sentence for her considering Spock's usual effect upon her mental faculties. Spock pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the skin just below her earlobe and she shivered, felt her IQ drop a few points, didn't care.

'You do not find the active duty uniforms appealing?' he asked, his warm lips skimming her skin as he spoke.

Nyota shifted, wanting to be closer to him. 'They are… almost as appealing.' She leant her head to the side in encouragement and he kissed her neck again, lathing her skin with the heat of his tongue. Her breath caught in her throat, heat spreading from the point of contact throughout her body.

'I am gratified you will not suddenly find me unattractive.'

Nyota nodded vaguely, only half listening to his words. She dug her fingers into his hair and tugged him to face her so she could kiss him. The heat of his mouth and the press of his tongue against hers had her shifting, pushing herself up and closer to him. Suddenly his words sunk through her sluggish thoughts. She pulled her lips from his sharply. He made a tiny huffing noise of displeasure. Usually it would have delighted her.

'What do you mean?!'

He frowned. 'I am uncertain as to the context of the inquiry.' He was staring at her lips. Sensing his intent Nyota pressed her fingers to his mouth. Of course, to a Vulcan that was quite a suggestive gesture and Spock leaned forward and began kissing her fingers.

'When would you be wearing your active duty uniform?' she asked softly.

Spock stilled. His head tilted. 'Forgive me, I had intended to inform you earlier, however your tel'esta and consequent demands I kiss you and make love to you for 15 hours 48 minutes and 17 seconds distracted me.'

'Tell me what?' There was a buzzing in her ears. A feeling of hope that she tried to shove down in case she was mistaken, but he answered her…

'That I will not be resigning my commission.'

… and it overwhelmed her, a great wave of delight, joy, happiness. She gasped and tightened her hold upon him, staring at him in wide-eyed shock, her mouth stretching into a grin.

'Meld with me!' she demanded in the manner she had demanded his kisses earlier.

Spock raised an eyebrow but since he hardly considered it a chore pressed his fingers obligingly to her psi points and joined their minds. He had once told her that melding with her could be like being hit with a hoverbus, that she could project her thoughts loudly and without restraint. She was certain that was precisely what she did to him the moment his mind pressed against hers.

She embraced him exuberantly, her thoughts rushing to meet his so he could feel the intense happiness that his simple declaration had evoked in her. She smiled and laughed in joy. Spock did not laugh, but she felt his shared happiness and his pleasure in her own /giddy human delight/ She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her forehead against his smiling and laughing and /so happy!/

Spock turned his head, kissed her cheek, buried his face against her neck.

She didn't see it, but she felt his smile against her skin.

.

.

.

.

AN:

Aaaannnd we're done.

Thanks to Lamb's Ear for beta'ing the last few chapters. They ended up much better because of it.

Thank you also to everyone who reviewed the story when I first posted it. A lot of your comments have made this tweaked version a bit better I think. That being said, I'm washing my hands of this story. If you found my Spock OOC or whatever, I do not wanna hear it, go write your own version, I tried, it was le hards.

I'm finding writing the next one much more enjoyable! (In case anyone is curious it will resolve the T'Pring issue)