Spock is meditating in the center of his common area when he feels her awaken.

He knows by the way her breath is released — a satisfied sigh, then a groan as, he believes, she finishes stretching — that it has been a comfortable awakening.

It pleases him that she can wake this way in his environment.

He couldn't think of anyone else — not that he has ever entertained the thought, to be honest — who could live under the temperature he usually places his quarters in — warm enough to be pleasing, but not warm enough to leave you gasping.

The temperature makes his meditation sessions much more successful, as he avoids the use of a shirt of any kind, limiting himself only to a comfortable pair of long trousers.

Spock's meditation sessions give him an air of awareness one might not usually experience, and he doubts a human's capability of its true potential.

He can feel each sound around him — every vibration — yet, he, himself, is a shell, untouched, something that nothing can affect or move.

He can hear and sense everything, but nothing can stir his concentration.

It's one of the great benefits of meditation, experiencing such calm and control, so that when he begins to hear her footsteps landing softly — and so carefully — on the floor, he is able to remain quite still.

Her footsteps stop, which makes him assume she's seen him and knows that he is, as is usually normal, in the middle of one of his meditation sessions.

As brilliant as Spock may be attributed to being, he is not all-knowing, certainly not when it comes to Nyota Uhura. And so, while he believes she'll do as she often does when she finds him like this — take a shower, ready herself for the day, prepare tea for them both — he finds himself surprised to hear her take three approaching steps toward him.

He is curious, but his concentration is not diminished, as his eyes remain closed.

He feels her moving behind him, but he can't see what she is doing — only feel it, by instinct.

She is on her knees — has to be, because he can feel her breath close to his neck now, and somehow, he takes this as a challenge.

Why else would Nyota attempt to interrupt him without word unless her intentions were too clear to be voiced?

He feels her arms slither their way through the gap between his arms and his waist, encircling him in one simple swoop, until her palms are resting over his bare chest.

He does not move, and his breathing remains the same.

He feels her chin resting on his shoulder, a soft hum on her throat, and it is increasingly pleasing to both his skin and his ear, that it almost throws him off his mind's clear road — but doesn't.

He is as still as an impenetrable wall.

When she pulls back, takes her arms away from him —admitting defeat, he thinks — she surprises him again by placing her hands on his shoulders and pressing her naked chest against his back.

He is once again perfectly still — an immovable object, but not for long.

Uhura presses her forehead on the back of his head, moving slowly to the side of it, until her lips brush the tip of his ears, and to Spock's shock — and embarrassing delight — she flicks her tongue against the tip, before enclosing her mouth against the top of it, gently.

His eyes flash open, and the heat that fills his face is clearly invisible to her, but apparently she knows — probably from the hitch of his breath that even he couldn't control — because she laughs softly, and with a silent joy he can only treasure and store somewhere in his mind.

He sighs in secret contentment, "It seems you have succeeded in your intentions."

"And what intentions are those?" She whispers innocently, so that he feels her breath on his ear, and while she is no longer taunting him, her very proximity is rather beguiling.

"To pull me away from my meditation and entrap me with your unmistakable allure," he replies — his voice perfectly calm for someone who is feeling so much, and yet, as is his nature, he is controlling infinitely more.

She chuckles lightly, finally moving from her place behind him, and crawling around him, until she finds her place on his lap.

He is quick to accommodate her, opening his arms to her as if they had been molded to give her this place, and he finds no discomfort in the position, keeping his eyes on her own, and he avoids gazing at her naked body — save for the bottom underwear — regardless of his obvious awareness of her lack of attire.

"Do you mean to say I have aroused you, Spock?" The smile on her lips is just — if not more — alluring than anything else she has done, but then he remembers her lips on his ear, and he reconsiders that idea.

"I believe you will find the evidence quite able to speak for itself," he suggests, needing no further words to explain to her that fact, and that makes Uhura's smile widen suggestively before she leans in — arms wrapped around his neck — and laughs into his shoulder.

He allows his hands to reach up to rest upon the small of her back, and the sigh she releases is one of genuine content, finding peace in this moment — serenity in his arms.

It's not long before she finds a way to let it become more than mere serenity, as she attempts to rise herself high enough to hold his ears between her lips again, and he finds himself leaning down, giving her better access, because it is incredibly pleasing — perhaps, too pleasing.

When she pulls back, he can tell that his eyes are burning for her — as her eyes for him — and his face feels much too heated for it to be a mistake. She knows what she's caused, what she's stirred, and as he has been with Uhura long enough, he knows, that her intentions are always to see things through to the very end.

"Why don't we do something about that evidence?"