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1C13:11, Chapter 6, SoS8:8
Characters: Spock, Amanda, Uhura, multiple OCs
A/N: Nyota learns a difficult lesson; Spock picks up the pieces.
Warning: Starts off very K, but eventually flirts with M.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek, any Star Trek characters or any Star Trek concepts and I still don’t get paid for writing about any of those.
( Read Ru2:13 )
( Read Prv22:6 )
( Read Prv4:1-15 )
( Read Col3:21 )
( Read Prv13:5-7 )
As his hover floated through the large gates, Spock noted the changes Benjamin Uhura had made to the compound’s landscaping. While it still reminded him of his parents’ home on Vulcan, over the years, the verdant areas of the Uhura estate had become more lush, its contrast with the surrounding desert sharper. As usual, the large pale ochre-colored house appeared when the cream-colored walls were half a kilometer behind him. Truthfully, very little had been altered. Though he was loath to admit it — even to himself — Spock took a measure of comfort in that fact. Exiled from his own home, it was always pleasing to return to this place, where so little ever changed.
But when he reached the house, there was no small, quick figure launching itself down the short flight of stairs and into the pink stone forecourt before the hover had halted. Dr. M’Umbha was standing alone in front of the large wooden doors.
Some things, it seemed, had changed, after all.
______________
“Ah, Spock,” M’Umbha sighed, “our little girl is growing up. A year ago, nothing would have kept her from home on this day. Now, it’s ‘Jamie Namalenga said this!’ or ‘Jamie Namalenga did that!’ Lately, her whole world has been about the boy — whether he makes her smile or frown.”
Spock’s face twisted into what she liked to think of as his wry grin. He allowed only a very few see any expression other than one denoting carefully modulated curiosity, but M’Umbha knew she was among those who could elicit more unusual responses from him.
“She has only made two thousand, seven hundred forty-two references to him over the past year,” he teased. “I gather she no longer views him as a rival. One thousand, nine hundred eighty-seven of those references have been positive.”
“Only one thousand, nine hundred and eighty-seven?” The human woman shook with laughter. “You are fortunate in that. I was worried she might have forgotten there was a time when her dearest wish was to outscore him in every class and chase his times in every race. But, when he called this morning, taunting the poor child with, ‘I bet you added six tenths of a second to your 100-meters since school let out’, not even your arrival could keep her at home.”
“Competition, when used to improve one’s own performance, can be a healthy motivator.”
“Pah!” M’Umbha’s hand came down hard on the table, and she shook her head, even as she grinned. “Ennie is trying to impress that boy, and is going about it the way she always tried to impress anyone — by attempting to beat him at his own game.”
Spock took eight seconds to consider the revelation. His observations of human relationships suggested… “It is my understanding that human male do not often respond well to females who perform at a higher level than they do in areas not traditionally dominated by females.”
“Perhaps you should be the one to tell that to our Ennie.”
______________
Jamie Namalenga looked across the dusty athletic field at the small girl surrounded by children who weren’t much smaller than she was. He smiled to himself. Nyota was built more like a marathon runner than a sprinter, but in spite of her small stature, she was among the best 100m runners in the district.
A tingle of guilt pricked him as he turned back to his own group. He’d lured her here under what some might call “false pretenses,” but his partner was competing in a race today and he really needed the assistance. Besides, Nyota was ideal for the job.
Developing good posture and balance were more important than increasing leg and arm strength for new sprinters as young as the ones he coached. Her dancer’s training had given Nyota an awareness of how a body should move. And even though she was a little quiet and shy around the kids in their class, she knew how to make the little ones see exactly what she needed them to do.
Jamie was accustomed to being adored. The teachers in the accelerated-learning program he attended were impressed with his brilliance. Other teens from school and from town whispered — and nearly as often, shouted — about his handsome face and leanly muscled body. Still more of his compatriots admired his athletic ability. Everyone he knew fell for his charm.
Nyota Uhura, at least, was never obvious about her crush; he could always count on her to lend him a hand with the kids or to go over lessons from class. It was a relief from the methods other girls used to capture his attention. Still, sometimes he worried that he was getting her hopes up.
He knew that Nyota had expected to train alone with him today. She hadn’t agreed to meet with him because she wanted to spend her free day helping him coach his seven- to nine-year-old runners. But she’d gamely accepted the half of the group his running partner usually worked with.
“Amiri,” he called out the little boy whose twitching impatience might one day be molded into the kind of reflexes top-level all-Earth sprinters needed to become champions, “relax! And mind your feet. Keep off those toes!”
______________
An hour later, the last of the children waved good-bye and Nyota stood at his side.
“Thank you for coming out today,” Jamie said, smiling down at her. A sudden impulse made him want to do something nice for her. “Want to grab something to eat before you go home?”
A bright grin lit her face and for a passing moment, she was almost pretty. When she smiled, Nyota reminded him of the beautiful Upenda. But then it was gone. Her face fell and she shook her head regretfully.
“My friend Spock arrived today. I have to go home.”
Interest piqued, Jamie’s brows rose. “The Vulcan? He’s in Starfleet, yes?”
A different kind of smile found her lips at this. “Yeah,” she said. “Mama was in the Dip. Corps with his father. I’ve known him since I was a baby. Anyway, he helps me with studying and training when he can. He’s probably already got a bunch of lessons and exercises ready for me. I should go…”
Jamie grinned at her obvious reluctance. “Maybe next time,” he suggested. “If Julie decides to keep competing this season, I might need your help every weekend, anyway.”
Her smile widened into a full grin, as her head bobbed up and down enthusiastically.
“Okay,” she said, a little breathlessly. “I… I, uh, I’d better go home now.”
She turned and fell into an easy lope that would carry her all the way back to the Uhura compound on the outskirts of Garissa Town.
“I’ll let you know,” she called over her shoulder.
Jamie watched her until she disappeared behind the school’s mathematics building on the far side of the campus. Nyota Uhura was built like a marathoner and when she ran, he thought, she was actually beautiful.
______________
Dr. M’Umbha called it “sulking.” She said the practice was common among human adolescents, and while Spock had been given ample opportunity to verify the truth of her assessment — during time spent with his Grayson cousins and, later, with his peers at the Academy — it was not a behavior Spock was accustomed to observing in his young friend.
Amongst the people with whom she was most at ease, Nyota was usually straightforward about her wishes, and quiescent when a refusal was presented with rational explanations. But there was nothing usual about the way she had withdrawn from him and her family since Dr. Uhura had had denied her request to postpone the long-planned trip to Washington.
“Your mother must be at the conference on Mars colony next week,” her father had reminded her, “and I have promised to go with her this time. Who will stay here with you?”
“I’m not a baby anymore, Baba,” Nyota had insisted. “I can stay by myself.”
Benjamin had shaken his head slowly.
“Or maybe Muta cold come home and commute,” Nyota had suggested before Dr. Uhura could respond. Her left foot had begun a swift, rhythmic tapping as her excitement grew. “Mombasa’s not that far away, and it’s only for two weeks!”
“Your shuttle to Betazed leaves from Seattle.”
Spock had expected her to give in at this point, and for the family to resume their quiet evening’s entertainments — a mildy strategic board game for him and Dr. Uhura; Dr. M’Umbha and Nyota deciphering and singing ancient Deltan songs. Instead, the young girl had continued to argue for remaining in Africa.
“That can change! We left from Nairobi for years.”
“Enough!” Dr. M’Umbha’s normally-cheerful voice had taken on a sterner, sharper edge than Spock had ever heard before.
In the past, even while chastising her children in his presence, the human woman had spoken like the successful diplomat she had once been. She took on such a commanding presences in those moments, she did not need to raise her voice in order to make her point.
Two nights before, Spock had watched her take a different approach.
“Nyota Wangari Uhura bint Wakufunzi,” she had intoned deliberately, “I did not realize I was raising a child capable of such selfishness.
“Any number of my or your baba’s relatives could have come to stay with you until you left for Betazed. Many more would have gladly taken you into their own homes. You begged to extend your visit to Absalom Grayson’s farm, instead.
“Mr. Grayson agreed to accommodate you. We made the arrangements for you to leave from America. Spock has agreed to escort you there.
“Would you like to explain to Lady Amanda’s father why you are not coming after he made room for you? Would you like to explain to your brother why he should lose valuable practice time and informal sessions with his friends and his professors in the music program he has been waiting five years to attend?
“All so that you can spend more time with a boy who you will see nearly every day next term? A boy who is three years older than you?”
Nyota had looked abashed. Her voice had been soft — almost inaudible — as she apologized to her parents and to him for her thoughtlessness. Then she had requested, and been granted, permission to retire to her bedroom.
Dr. Uhura said Nyota had been “testing her boundaries.” But, two days later, he was concerned about the drastic change in his daughter’s behavior.
“It’s normal for a teenager to act this way,” he had told Spock, “but with the trip coming up so soon… Please, will you speak with her? She has always felt able to confide in you.”
Loyalty, formed years before when the quiet xenopsychiatrist had done almost as much as his wife to make a half-Vulcan child feel accepted while attending various embassy functions, prompted Spock to agree.
He found her sitting under the Acacia tortilis she called her “thinking tree,” earpieces in both ears and a PADD in her lap. Her lips moved soundlessly as she went over exercises for one of her independent language studies.
Taking a seat beside her, Spock touched her left shoulder. Nyota pulled out her left earpiece, but did not look at him.
“I apologize for interrupting your studies,” he said after watching her silent recitation for another forty seconds. “If you prefer, I can return at another time.”
“I am reviewing the Lower Romulan Dialect,” she replied in Vulcan. “I began learning it before I spoke my first words in Standard. Your presence will not impede my progress.”
He took that as permission to begin.
“Your visit with my mother’s family will only last two weeks. Surely an additional fourteen days is not so long a time that your... Jamie will begin to forget you.” He wondered, again, why he had been asked to persuade Nyota to change her attitude. “You have been looking forward to the harvest for the past year.”
“That was before Jamie…” She looked up from her PADD, a tremulous smile breaking through the misery that had darkened her face just moments before. “He requested my assistance in training the young ones.”
Spock was already aware of what the boy had asked of her — he’d been there when she had first petitioned her parents — but opted not to point that out. “That would be difficult, if not impossible, Nyota. Even if you remain here for the next two weeks, your aid would be curtailed because you will be on Betazed during the following six weeks.”
“I am only going for half the time because Axin is returning to Earth,” she admitted. “I know that I would be unable to fulfill Jamie’s request, but I wished to help him while I was able.”
Spock considered her words, and the sound of defeat with which she had delivered them. Emphasizing the minor positive aspect, he decided, would be his best approach.
“You will have an additional three weeks in Jamie Namalenga’s company this year,” he pointed out. “I see no reason why you should refuse to speak to your parents because they insisted you remain committed to plans that have been in place for eleven months.”
“You are correct,” she conceded doubtfully. “I will behave in a more pleasant manner until we depart.”
“Good.” Spock left her to complete her work, ignoring his own doubts.
Graysons’ Farm and Orchards’ many shades of green were nothing like home’s myriad of reds and browns, but Nyota still loved everything about the place. Only the lack of a tall, handsome Kenyan runner marred its perfection.
Nyota loved the Grayson cousins who welcomed her as if she were one of their own. She dove into the gossip about Timothy, who had turned sixteen in the past year and thought he was better than all the littles now.
She raced up and down the ladders, picking cherries like the old hand she had become, and peeked through giant leaves in chest-high fields of Romanesco broccoli, only to be fascinated over and over by the fractal growth of the florets.
Activity and the moist air left her ravenously hungry, and she eagerly partook of the farm’s produce.
But on the first two evenings, instead of spending her time shadowing Spock or chatting with the older littles as she’d done during previous visits, she remained alone at the outdoor table after the evening meal, reading running manuals or writing long letters to Jamie Namalenga that she knew she’d never have the nerve to send.
On the third night, Abi sat down next to her. “And why isn’t my Star shining as brightly as she used to?” he wanted to know.
“Sorry, Mr. Grayson,” she whispered, offering him a weak smile. “I’m okay, actually.”
“Is that so? Then how come you’re not up at the house, pestering my grandson to join the rest of us out here?”
“Sometimes, a person needs solitude.”
“Is that your way of telling an old man to buzz off?”
Her resulting grin was like watching the sun come out.
“No sir,” she laughed. “I like hanging out with you. All the littles do. Most of the bigs, too.”
“Well, it that’s the case, why don’t we ‘hang out’ a bit and you can tell me what’s been keeping that beautiful smile off your face every evening since you got here. And that’s ‘Grandpa’ to you, young lady.”
He gave her a long appraising look when she didn’t speak right away. “You aren’t homesick, are you? Do you miss your mom and dad? Your brother and sister.”
“Not really; it’s like home here,” she told him, shrugging. “It’s only a couple of weeks; I don’t miss Mama or Baba all that much. And Penda and Mu have been gone all year anyway. I’ve gotten used to it.”
“We love having you here, too, Ennie. Half the time I can’t even remember you’re not one of the grandkids!” He winked at her, then grew more serious. “But you’re missing someone, aren’t you?”
His face was so kind, and he looked at her with such understanding that Nyota, at first hesitantly, but then with increasing detail and passion, began explaining about leaving Jamie Namalenga.
“Penda says people do stupid things for love,” she concluded. “Like staying at school year-round because the man you want to be with has to marry someone else even though your little sister needs you.”
Abi smiled a little to himself, grateful that Nyota was too busy staring out into the orchard to notice.
“Upenda is right,” he agreed, “Sometimes love does make us do silly things. And sometimes it leads us to create wonders.”
She looked over and stared up at him. He wondered what was going beyond those dark, serious eyes. Then she smiled, and her whole face brightened. One day she will be the one breaking hearts, Abi mused.
“Like the Vesuvian?” she speculated. “And Spock?”
“Exactly.” Abi grinned and wrapped an arm around her narrow shoulders. “And like you and Miss Upenda and Mr. Muta. I think your mama and baba understand better than you think.”
She rested her head against him, a small smile still playing at her lips.
“Thanks… Grandpa.”
Jamie Namalenga thinks I’m beautiful. The words in her head urged her to lift her feet. Jamie Namalenga thinks I’m beautiful.
Jamie Namalenga thinks I’m beautiful. It was better than Axin coming back to Earth. Jamie Namalenga thinks I’m beautiful.
Jamie Namalenga thinks I’m beautiful. It was more wonderful than eating Romanesco broccoli in Washington. Jamie Namalenga thinks I’m beautiful.
Jamie Namalenga thinks I’m beautiful. It was as special as meeting Spock for the first time. Almost. Jamie Namalenga thinks I’m beautiful.
Jamie Namalenga thinks I’m beautiful.They spurred her on and reminded her to keep her arms low and close to her sides. Jamie Namalenga thinks I’m beautiful.
His actual words, spoken to a skeptical boy who looked Jamie’s age, or maybe a little older, had been more prosaic.
“She doesn’t look like it,” he’d told his companion, “but she’s a gifted runner. She’s like a cheetah, my friend. I’ve watched her hundreds of times and I still can’t figure it out. Her form is unusual, but amazing. And effective.”
But she knew what he’d meant because, even though it was against the rules, she’d started Listening the moment she’d realized the two boys were talking about her.
The other boy had scoffed, but Nyota hadn’t even cared. What she’d Heard had given her wings. She would fly through the race.
Jamie Namalenga thought she was beautiful when she ran. Not her unusual, but effective form. Her.
Jamie Namalenga thinks I’m beautiful.
The thought carried her through the finish tape.
______________
She didn’t think about what she was doing. She hardly heard the shouts of congratulations or surprise or both at her win. She barely felt her coach’s heavy hand, patting her on the back. She didn’t realize that her face, flushed with excitement and lit with joy, still looked nearly pretty. All she saw was the way Jamie was smiling at her with admiration.
Before she could stop herself, her eyes were closed and her arms around his lean waist.
He didn’t step back when her lips met his. For just a few glorious seconds, Jamie Namalenga was kissing her back and her heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could feel it. Only his strong arms kept her from falling into a dizzy heap on the ground.
Her mouth opened without her telling it to and then Jamie’s tongue was there, stroking hers, making Nyota start and gasp.
And accidentally bite down.
No!
She squeezed her eyes even tighter when he suddenly stilled, then withdrew his tongue and lips.
When she opened her eyes again, and he gently set her away from him, his smile was full of something that looked a little too much like amused pity.
She blinked up at him in contrition and confusion. “Jamie? That was an accide—”
He leaned forward again and she felt his lips brush her forehead.
“Congratulations, Little Cheetah,” he said, stepping back. “Maybe we should not try that again while you are so hungry.”
His voice was light and teasing, but Nyota Heard what the joke tried to conceal.
Jamie Namalenga thought kissing her had been a mistake, and he would never try again.
She stood looking after him as he walked away, refusing to let the tears fall from eyes that were no longer shining with bliss.
M’Umbha Uhura was worried about her youngest child. Ennie’s behavior had been trying before she’d left for Washington, but there had been little cause for worry. She’d been doing what teenagers across Earth did.
In the month that had passed since the school term’s first race, however, Nyota had become increasingly withdrawn. Again, that was to be expected — Upenda and Muta had gone through similar phases — but their minor setbacks had never kept them huddled inside themselves for more than a week or two.
They’d each had school friends they could turn to. Ennie had classmates and teammates who were friendly, but she only really talked to one person outside of the family.
M’Umbha disliked imposing upon anyone, but her daughter’s emotional health was more important than such concerns.
She sat at her desk and initiated a communication to San Francisco.
______________
He found her exactly where he expected her to be, sitting under the broad canopy of her favorite Acacia tortilis. She looked up as he lowered himself onto the long grass growing at the base of the tree.
“A burden shared is sometimes easier to bear,” he said quietly.
“Not this time.” She spoke in Standard, and her face, usually so expressive, was closed to him. “You really don’t want to know what I’m thinking. It would upset your Vulcan sensibilities.”
“Perhaps you should tell me anyway,” he said tersely, even as he reminded himself of Dr. Uhura’s warning. Human adolescents, it seemed, were also prone to making belligerent remarks when they did not wish to discuss their problems. “My tolerance for emotional outbursts might surprise you.”
“Why are you even here?” she snapped. “How come you have enough free time to keep coming back to walk a stupid human kid through the trials of growing up?”
“My duties at Starfleet Headquarters rarely keep me occupied on weekends.”
“Why are you serving on Earth, anyway? Shouldn’t you be on a ship? It’s Starfleet, not the Science Academy!”
Only their decade-long acquaintance kept him from rising and walking away.
“Exploring the universe is your dream, Nyota, not mine,” he told her, pushing down the sharp pang annoyance and anger her words awakened. She is young and in pain, he reminded himself. “There are many ways of serving in Starfleet, and I am content with my current responsibilities. They allow me to be at your disposal… if you require a friend to listen.”
She blew out a breath and her shoulders slumped. The tension that had left her looking rigid and defensive flowed out of her body. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I wanted what they have,” she whispered. “I wanted to be like Mama and Baba.” A soft, broken sob escaped her throat and she began to shake.
Ah. Benjamin and M’Umbha Uhura’s early courtship had achieved legendary status among their children. They had also been, Spock recalled, only thirteen when they’d fallen in love.
This wistful Nyota, who yearned for romantic love and who dreamed of more than just exploring the universe was beyond his realm of experience. He had prepared for anger and confrontation. Spock did not know how to comfort her, but the desire to try was as automatic as breathing.
“You parents were fortunate; most humans do not go on to marry the partners of their adolescence.”
“Young humans are not the only ones who choose unwisely. Neither Damalis nor Leila is your mate. And you chose them as an adult.”
Spock chose to ignore her observation. “You are not M’Umbha Wakufunzi,” he continued instead, inwardly wincing at stating the obvious. If anything, when away from her own family and his, Nyota more closely resembled her father, quietly observing the people surrounding her. “Jamie Namalenga is nothing like Benjamin Uhura. Perhaps you have made a fortunate escape.
“It is unlikely that he would have followed you into Starfleet, or waited for you while you served on missions that took you away from him for years at a time,” he went on, opting for full disclosure over tact when her sobs did not start again. “Forty percent of Starfleet officers assigned to deep space missions do not marry. Among the forty percent who do, seventy percent choose spouses eligible to serve with them. Still, sixty percent of those marriages fail.”
Nyota’s eyes grew wider with each statistic he supplied. The tears on her face evaporated in the dry wind and were not replaced. Silence hung in the air while she contemplated the information.
“Why do you know this?” she asked eventually.
“Although interspecies ethics is compulsory, the unit on human behavior is optional for non-command track cadets, but recommended for anyone who intends to serve on long missions.”
“Oh.” she said. “I’m sorry about what I said before.. about… the VSA.”
He couldn’t tell from her voice whether or not the information had brought his young friend a measure of comfort. Further action, he decided, would “cover all the bases.” Feeling awkward and hesitant, he slipped an arm around her and pressed her head against his shoulder as he had seen Upenda or Muta do many times.
Her small hand found his, and he felt her shields fall just enough to leave her open to projection, without allowing her own emotions to escape her careful control again. He accepted the unspoken request and broadcast comfort and peace.
The sky faded from pink to magenta to violet before turning a deep blue-black sprinkled with stars. Spock and Nyota sat in silence, watching each one appear.
A/N addeundum: Thanks to the women of STCC Writers Guild and Writers Anonymous for your support and for reminding me of how hard it was to be a 13-year-old geek.
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