Kirk followed his first officer into the turbolift and then down the corridor to his quarters.

"I never should have let things go this far," he muttered. "I should have told you from the beginning how stupidly you were behaving. I guess… I guess I just thought you would come to your senses eventually."

Spock didn't even look at him as he quietly said, "You presume much, Jim, if you believe you could have swayed me once my mind was made up."

A rush of anger had the captain clenching his fists, but he forced himself not to raise his voice.

"Then, I shouldn't have allowed you to take her to Sbelisdim," he said in frustration. "I should have left you with no other option but the brothel. I should have protected— "

At the entrance to his quarters, Spock suddenly swung around to face him.

"Nyota Uhura does not require the protection of any man," he stated imperiously. "Least of all yours, Captain."

Kirk noted with satisfaction the hint of possessiveness and pride in the half-Vulcan's voice. As he stepped into Spock's quarters, he wracked his brain for an argument that would serve as the final push towards making his friend — his brother in all the ways that mattered — see reason. Or to at least understand why this was so important to him.

"Spock," he said, standing just inside the first officer's rooms, "Uhura is my friend, too. She and I haven't always gotten along, but… but she matters to me. And not just because she's the best damned communications officer in the fleet. Still, I want you to know something: if she leaves this ship because you're too much of an asshole to realize how good you have it, a woman like that actually loving you, then your ass is mine. And this time, I'll order you not to fight back. Am I making myself clear?"

The half-Vulcan stared at him for so long, Kirk was almost afraid he'd pushed too far. Fuck it, he decided. Uhura was worth another beat down. She really is the best at what she does, and damned good friend for all that I'm not sure what I've actually done to deserve her friendship.

"You are perfectly clear, t'hy'la," he said at last. "If you will excuse me, it is past time I began my meditation."

Sensing victory was near, Kirk decided it was time to back down.

"Okay," he said, stepping forward to enfold Spock in a quick, gruff embrace. "You do that. Just don't forget what I said."

"I will remember," he heard his t'hy'la say as he walked out the doors.

.

He had not completed his nightly meditation when he heard his door chime go. Although he chose to ignore the sound, he was not surprised when Ambassador Spock stepped into his quarters anyway.

He unfolded himself from his position on the floor and indicated that his visitor should sit.

The ambassador lowered himself onto the sofa and stared up at Spock.

"I erred in my dealings with the Nyota Uhura I knew, but none of my missteps were so egregious as your has been," his counterpart said without preamble. "For me, at least, it was over before it began."

"How is that any better than what I have done?" Spock asked, feeling somewhat taken aback, though he strove not to show it. "The end result was the same. Ms. Uhura lived her life as your friend, rather than your lover and, for a time, that was hurtful to her."

"Is it the truly the same?" the ambassador asked, titling his head. His look of serenity did not falter, even though Spock recognized the censure in his words. "She did not have a chance to experience my love, only to have it taken away from her. It is sometimes more difficult for humans to endure grief after enjoying great happiness."

"Humans frequently experience extreme emotional fluctuations," he replied, insistent. "It is fundamental to their nature."

Ambassador Spock's lips turned down at the corners. "Do you argue that you were justified in hurting her because the human population, as a whole, is accustomed to feeling both joy and sorrow?"

"That was not my meaning, no," the younger half-Vulcan said. "I merely intended to point out that quantifying the degree of emotion experienced by Nyota in either incarnation does not have a logical bearing on the degree of our respective, alleged, misdeeds."

"No bearing, Commander?" The inflection in the ambassador's tone was faint, but clear enough to Vulcan ears. "By similar argument, would you say that cutting off a man's hand was equal to cutting off his entire arm?"

"Although one may have somewhat more potential to incapacitate, both are equally brutal, yes," Spock countered.

"Nyota Uhura loves you," his counterpart stated, his dark eyes coldly intent. "You love her. You engaged, for several years, in a monogamous romantic relationship with her, which she had every reason to believe would culminate in bonding and marriage.

"Having ending ended that relationship because of a mistaken belief that you could not sustain it while entering into a friendship that may or may not lead to accomplishing great things for the universe, you continue withhold that love from her, continuing to hurt her, in spite of knowing that your premise for your initial withdrawal was based on imperfect knowledge, and therefore invalid.

"Do you truly believe this is not worse than my failure to recognize the merit of loving another Nyota Uhura?"

Spock found himself unable to answer. The ambassador was correct. His own actions had been worse. He fully intended to admit that. For the moment, however, the words would not come.

******

He hesitated outside her quarters. She had every reason to refuse him entry, he reflected. In spite of her resolution to rebuild their friendship, he knew that he had not been particularly friendly to her in the three days that had elapsed since their return to the Enterprise.

Dismissing his concerns as illogical, he sounded the door chime and announced himself.

Entering at her call of "Come," he did not allow himself a moment to change his mind.

"Lt. Uhura — Nyota — I would like to… try again," he said as soon as he reached the center of her tiny sitting room.

"Oh, Spock," she breathed, spinning in a slow, absent circle.

He moved with her, keeping her lithe form and beautiful visage in sight. A myriad of emotions crossed her face. He thought he recognized surprise, hope, joy, fear, anger. Her eyes were sad, in the end.

"I don't know…" she said, coming to a stop with her back towards the door.

He waited for her to say more. After fifteen point nine seconds of silence had passed, he realized he would have to speak. "Do you believe there might come a time when you do know?"

Her eyes flashed angrily for a moment before sinking back into sadness.

"You really hurt me," she said quietly, those dark eyes never wavering from his. "Do you understand that? You didn't just use my body. That last time on Sbelisdim didn't happen because of Pon farr. You showed me you still loved me when you had no intention of letting me keep that love. You played with my heart, Spock."

He felt icy fingers clawing inside his torso. "I did not— I… I do know, k'diwa," he whispered, taking a step towards her in spite of believing it was the wrong thing to do. "I did not understand before. Now, I do."

She stepped back and his heart stuttered in his side.

"I don't know if I can do it again, Spock," she said, still watching him intently. "I don't know if I can let myself be happy with you if a part of me is constantly waiting for you to leave me again."

He stood still, arms loose at his sides, rather than behind his back. The urge to move toward her again was strong. The hurt of her moving away from him would be stronger, he knew.

"I would not willingly leave you again, ashayam," he said. Even to his own ears, he sounded as if he was pleading.

Some intense emotion flickered across her face, but was gone before he could identify it.

"I don't know, Spock," she said again, and this time, looked away.

Hope evaporated. He clasped his hands behind his back and squared his shoulders.

"Very well," he said coolly, evenly, though inside he was reeling from the blow of her words. "I will trouble no further on the matter."

Spock walked past her towards the door, careful to make his steps fluid and graceful, though he was not certain if she watched his departure or if she still stared off to her side, perhaps seeing nothing but the pain he had caused her over the past seven point three six months.

"Spock," she called out before he could exit her quarters.

He turned to see that she was facing him now, her face still unreadable.

"I did not say 'no,'" she murmured when he did not speak.

"Neither did you consent," he pointed out, afraid — yes, this was fear — to hope.

She took a single step in his direction.

"Because I really don't know," she told him.

Understanding began to blossom in his mind. He stepped towards her again.

"How can I assist you in reaching a decision?" he asked quietly.

She took another step.

"Let me… get to know you again," was her answer.

He stopped himself just short of telling her she already knew him better any other sentient being aside from his counterpart.

"What must I do?" he asked instead as his long stride placed him directly in front of her.

Looking up into his eyes, she stood so close he could feel the lower temperature of her skin.

"Spend time with me," she said. "Time without… without everything from before."

Though her explanation lacked definition, he had once been the lover of the best communications officer in Starfleet and he understood her meaning. He acknowledged its logic.

His forehead dropped until it was nearly touching hers.

"It shall be as you wish, Nyota," he promised.

"I'm not making any promises," she said. "In the end, I might still decide this isn't worth a broken heart."

"Then we shall both be taking a risk," he whispered.

Her answering smile, tremulous and accompanied by unshed tears though it was, was the most he could ask for.

**********

Author's note: That's the end. I realize I originally wrote that I had two more chapters at the end of seven and at the end of eight. That was a mistake. This is it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek and I do not get paid to use their characters in fan fiction.