Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, and any relationships I portray in this fiction make no statement about the sexualities and relationships of the actors who play them.

This fic is getting too long for the kinkmeme, so I'm resorting to posting it here. That said, it shouldn't reach NC-17, but it may hit M.

Spock was a very talented, intelligent, and generally wonderful individual, and Nyota took a deep breath, closing her eyes and trying to force herself to remember this fact. It wasn't Spock's fault, it really wasn't—after the attack on Starfleet command, they had to replace half of the region's senior command, and of course they would ask Spock to help with the selection process. He was the level head of the panel, very nearly immune to the temptations favouritism and politics—besides the intelligence that made him so very valuable in every capacity. So, if Nyota had to share him with Starfleet, she could handle that. She could handle the calls a half an hour before they were supposed to eat the dinner she was already cooking together, telling her in the most apologetic monotone Spock could muster, that he was required to remain at headquarters. She could handle this happening nearly each day for the three weeks that the Enterprise had been in drydock so far for repairs.

What she really couldn't handle was Spock's response when she asked if he'd like her to bring by some dinner for him.

'Negative, Nyota,' he said without the slightest hint of hesitation. 'Jim has offered to have dinner with me.'

Yeah, that was what she really couldn't handle. Since when did Spock like the Captain enough to have dinner with him every night? Sure, Kirk technically died to save them all, but he was back, and he really hadn't changed that much from the experience. And since when was it Jim to Spock, anyway?

Letting out a frustrated huff of breath, Nyota picked up the casserole dish (she'd even been teaching herself to cook a wider variety of vegetarian dishes just for him, and from scratch, not the replicator, even when he wasn't around to eat them) and headed out into the officer's dorm hallway, looking for the nearest convenient place to trash it. Putting it down the disposal in her quarters would have been too easy, she thought, heading for the window at the end of the hallway, looking to throw it outside.

'Uhura?' She stopped at the familiar voice, tuning to find Dr McCoy standing behind her, having just come out of the turbo. He was wearing his formal grey uniform, his hat held in his hands, and his eyes flicking over Uhura's form. She felt her face flush as she realised what sort of picture she might make, storming down the hallway in Starfleet sweats, holding a casserole dish.

'Hello, Doctor McCoy,' she said, voice coming out far more grating than she intended.

'Havin' dinner?' he asked, the very picture of innocence.

'Spock and I were going to have dinner together,' she said, 'but he was held up in meetings at headquarters.' The again at the end of Nyota's sentence went unspoken, but certainly not unheard, and McCoy's eyebrows inched upwards.

'He couldn't make it, so you're—what, tossin' it down the turboshaft?' asked McCoy, humour colouring his words. Nyota blushed harder.

'The window was the plan, actually,' she admitted, voice level and matter-of-fact. McCoy stood stalk still for a moment, and then broke out into laughter. 'This isn't funny, Doctor!' He laughed harder at that, slapping his thigh with the hat still clasped in one hand. Nyota felt her lips twitch, again picturing how this looked. 'Alright, I guess it is. A little.'

'What is that, anyway?' asked McCoy, stepping closer and leaning down to peer into the dish.

'Vegetarian casserole,' Nyota answered, and McCoy straightened, peering at her carefully.

'You eat what he eats, don't you?' he asked, and she nodded mutely. 'And he's a vegetarian.' The incredulity in McCoy's voice as he practically spat out the word forced a smile out of Nyota, and McCoy's lips twitched correspondingly. 'So lemme guess—it's been a while since you had a nice filet mignon?'

'Months,' she admitted, and McCoy grinned at her.

'I dunno about tossin' it out the window, but if you wanna leave that here, we could go get us some steaks.' Uhura took a moment to think about it, and then nodded, grinning at her crewmate.

'Steak sounds wonderful.'

'It's not even that I expect him to be domestic—I'm not even very good at that,' Uhura admitted. She and the ship's doctor had had their steaks as promised and had moved on to drinks. The fire teas had sounded like a spectacular idea when their waiter suggested it, and the tingling in her fingers and the warmth in her belly felt even better.

'You just wan' 'im t' be there sometimes,' McCoy said, nodding. His accent had grown more prominent with each mint julep he downed, until he wasn't so much slurring as he was drawling slowly. Uhura had snickered the first time a 'darlin'' had escaped him.

'Yes, exactly! He spends all of his spare time with Kirk now,' she admitted, and then paused, looking down at her drink. It might not be the best of ideas to complain about this with Kirk's best friend, but she was just tipsy enough to stop caring. Besides, McCoy knew how to be discreet. 'I get that he died, and it was really... good of him, but he's back now, so I don't understand what's pulling Spock to him. He hated Kirk, and now he's calling him "Jim" and having nightly games of chess.'

'Uhura,' McCoy said slowly, sitting up straighter and looking suddenly far more sober than he had a moment before, 'I'm goin' t' tell ya somethin' I prob'ly, really shouldn't. Ya gotta keep it a secret, okay? No matter how much ya wanna tell yer hobgoblin.'

Nyota rolled her eyes at McCoy's name-calling, a smile tugging at her lips. 'I won't say a word.'

'Alright. Well, ya know when Spock stranded Jim on that ice planet during the Nerada incident?' Nyota nodded gravely—it was the first time she'd ever questioned Spock's judgement. 'Tha's when he firs' met the other Spock, the one from the other universe. He's the one who tol' Jim he had to get Spock—our Spock, damn, this is confusin'-to give up command.'

'That's no secret, Doctor,' she said, and he shot her an irritated glance.

''M not done,' he said, and she huffed and sat back in her chair. 'Now, datin' a Vulcan an' all, 'm guessin' you know about their telepathy?' Nyota nodded. 'That other Spock did a mind meld with Jim on that ice world. He said it was 'cause there wa'n't time to explain in regular words, so he had to use thoughts, and I believe that, I guess, got no reason not to, except...'

'Except what, Doctor?'

'Some other thoughts got through that Jim wa'n't s'pposed to see,' McCoy told her, and paused to drain the last of his drink. 'Thoughts 'bout him—the other Spock—and the other Jim.'

'What kind of thoughts?' asked Uhura, her stomach roiling suddenly, and not from the alcohol.

'There was some word Jim told me he 'membered,' McCoy murmured, running a hand through his hair. 'Started with a "t," I think. Said that it's what the other Spock used ta d'scribe his relationship with 'is Jim. Sounded like tequila, maybe? No...'

'T'hy'la?' supplied Nyota, and McCoy nodded, grinning broadly.

'Tha's the one!' McCoy exclaimed, and then settled. 'He tol' me what it meant, too: friend, brother-'

'I know what it means, Doctor,' she all but snapped, and then took a deep breath and summoned up a smile. 'Xenolinguistics was my speciality, and Vulcan my area of expertise.'

'Right. It changed how Jim thought 'bout Spock—our Jim and our Spock, I mean,' McCoy said. 'He saw how 'e could get 'long with Spock, and what kinda team they could make, and so he let bygones be bygones.'

Nyota recalled the devastated look on Spock's face in engineering, when he'd been separated from their dead captain by one single door, and the tears on his face, and Kirk's hand pressed up against the glass, reaching for Spock-

'I need to talk to Spock,' she announced, and McCoy's brow furrowed.

'Said yourself he's in meetings at headquarters,' he rumbled, and Nyota shook her head.

'Not my Spock,' she said, 'the other Spock. I need to know what he told Kirk.'