![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
First Times: 5x2 (6/10)
Title: First Times: Spock 3, The First Temptation of Spock
Logic dictates there must a first time for every experience. Knowing that doesn't necessarily make it any easier to get through. Severus and Spock each try 5 times. Hermione and Uhura help. (Not in the same fics, obvs,'cause I don't do crossovers.) Lightly humorous responses to an impromptu challenge inspired by an anti-First Times rant.
Pairing: Spock/Uhura
Fandom: Star Trek 2009
“S’chn T’gai Spohk.”
Her voice, deeper, and yet more sensual than any other he’d heard in a humanoid female, turned his name into a caress. Spock felt his temperature rise; perspiration, an inheritance from his human mother, broke out over his skin.
She continued to watch him, her eyes never leaving his face, although she left off trying to hold his gaze. Then she smiled.
His heart rate increased fifteen percent. He struggled to regulate his respiration.
“My name is Fiyell.”
Fiyell smiled like she did.
Almost without forethought, he reached towards the hand she offered.
__________
“Enterprise Ethics” were entirely subjective and frequently in compliance with neither the Starfleet Code of Conduct nor the United Federation of Planets Concordance of 2197.
Hence, they were quite often not, it could go without saying, in accord with fundamental Vulcan mores.
Though it had taken a great deal of effort (on the parts of Lieutenant Uhura, Doctor McCoy and, occasionally, Captain Kirk, as well as his own), Spock had been resigned to the idea for two point two years by the time they entered orbit around the planet hosting the 2261 Talks.
That, he later decided, was how he would explain the incident should his future children ever enquire, as their future mother assured him they would.
“I cannot gauge the nature of Fiyell’s infirmity without employing a particularly… private act with her,” he’d admitted to the female who had first welcomed them. “Based on what little knowledge I have of Halanans, and of their similarities and differences to Vulcans, I believe that taking such action might result in the formation of a permanent connection between us. Because my race is nearly extinct, that is a risk I may not take.”
Under normal circumstances, Spock was confident in his ability to process multiple pieces of information at once. At the moment, he found it nearly impossible to sort out only three facts:
He could not assist — or even attempt to assess — the beautiful Halanan without engaging in the deepest intimacy a Vulcan would ever experience.
The High Council had left it up to a third party to inform him he’d been deemed unsuitable for breeding purposes.
And if none of those their hosts had brought to their asteroid could help, Fiyell would die. And New Halana would not prosper.
In one breath he’d been offered a freedom he hadn’t dared hope for; in the next, he’d learned freedom was an illusion.
__________
She watched Spock struggle with the choices he’d been given. No one else would notice, she realized. At least, no one among the non-telepaths. But she noticed. And she even though she was nearly psi-null, she knew exactly what he was thinking.
Eyes sliding around the hall, searching desperately for something, anything that might prove to be a solution to his — and, to be perfectly honest, her own — dilemma — she felt her heart begin to unclench when she spied McCoy scribbling furiously on a PADD, oblivious to the drama playing out on stage. The satisfied quirk of his lips as he rested his stylus clenched her decision.
“My most generous hosts,” she said gravely, and offered a slight bow, “please forgive my interruption.” She glanced behind her, and then across the room before stepping forward again.
“Before Commander Spock takes irrevocable action, which will cause him to go back on renege on an obligation, and which could affect your honored guest even more adversely than her current circumstances, perhaps you would be willing to first consider the remaining alternatives?”
__________
The moment they were alone, she threw herself onto his sofa. Eyes closed, sighed heavily and beckoned him to join her.
“Instead of lying, you should have let me handle it,” she admonished gently. He knew she wasn’t truly displeased with him, if the small hands and long, slender fingers caressing his scalp were fair indicators. “You can’t regret what you were unable to prevent.”
“Regret is a wasteful emotion,” he reminded her, and leaned back into her touch, granting her better access. “Even were it not, I would not regret the result of my actions.
“Though I had another solution in mind — one which, incidentally, you also offered — in this instance, dissembling provided a concrete benefit, one that outweighs any philosophical desirability of granting our questioners the full truth. Deciding to prevaricate would have been logical; however—”
Nyota was adamant in asserting her culpability. “I wasn’t about to let you end up accidentally married to someone else if you didn’t have to marry a Vulcan — no matter how tempted you were, so I lied. You backed me up. That means you lied, too. You’d never done that before and I never intended for it to happen because of me.”
“You didn’t lie, ashal-veh,” he said. “And in supporting your implication, I merely anticipated the truth. I did promise to offer myself to you should my father’s people reject my… contribution to the rebuilding efforts. Even if I’d never informed you of that obligation, it still existed.”
Nyota smiled, shaking her head.
“You lied, Spock,” she insisted. “We both did. I hope you can live with that.”
He gave her one of this rare full smiles. From the way his cheeks muscles stretched, he suspected it was very nearly a grin.
“If by that you mean can I accept living with you, then you should know I believe both our actions worthy of commendation.”
Next chapter
Spock's next first
1 of 10
2 of 10
3 of 10
4 of 10
5 of 10
Logic dictates there must a first time for every experience. Knowing that doesn't necessarily make it any easier to get through. Severus and Spock each try 5 times. Hermione and Uhura help. (Not in the same fics, obvs,'cause I don't do crossovers.) Lightly humorous responses to an impromptu challenge inspired by an anti-First Times rant.
Pairing: Spock/Uhura
Fandom: Star Trek 2009
“S’chn T’gai Spohk.”
Her voice, deeper, and yet more sensual than any other he’d heard in a humanoid female, turned his name into a caress. Spock felt his temperature rise; perspiration, an inheritance from his human mother, broke out over his skin.
She continued to watch him, her eyes never leaving his face, although she left off trying to hold his gaze. Then she smiled.
His heart rate increased fifteen percent. He struggled to regulate his respiration.
“My name is Fiyell.”
Fiyell smiled like she did.
Almost without forethought, he reached towards the hand she offered.
“Enterprise Ethics” were entirely subjective and frequently in compliance with neither the Starfleet Code of Conduct nor the United Federation of Planets Concordance of 2197.
Hence, they were quite often not, it could go without saying, in accord with fundamental Vulcan mores.
Though it had taken a great deal of effort (on the parts of Lieutenant Uhura, Doctor McCoy and, occasionally, Captain Kirk, as well as his own), Spock had been resigned to the idea for two point two years by the time they entered orbit around the planet hosting the 2261 Talks.
That, he later decided, was how he would explain the incident should his future children ever enquire, as their future mother assured him they would.
“I cannot gauge the nature of Fiyell’s infirmity without employing a particularly… private act with her,” he’d admitted to the female who had first welcomed them. “Based on what little knowledge I have of Halanans, and of their similarities and differences to Vulcans, I believe that taking such action might result in the formation of a permanent connection between us. Because my race is nearly extinct, that is a risk I may not take.”
Under normal circumstances, Spock was confident in his ability to process multiple pieces of information at once. At the moment, he found it nearly impossible to sort out only three facts:
He could not assist — or even attempt to assess — the beautiful Halanan without engaging in the deepest intimacy a Vulcan would ever experience.
The High Council had left it up to a third party to inform him he’d been deemed unsuitable for breeding purposes.
And if none of those their hosts had brought to their asteroid could help, Fiyell would die. And New Halana would not prosper.
In one breath he’d been offered a freedom he hadn’t dared hope for; in the next, he’d learned freedom was an illusion.
She watched Spock struggle with the choices he’d been given. No one else would notice, she realized. At least, no one among the non-telepaths. But she noticed. And she even though she was nearly psi-null, she knew exactly what he was thinking.
Eyes sliding around the hall, searching desperately for something, anything that might prove to be a solution to his — and, to be perfectly honest, her own — dilemma — she felt her heart begin to unclench when she spied McCoy scribbling furiously on a PADD, oblivious to the drama playing out on stage. The satisfied quirk of his lips as he rested his stylus clenched her decision.
“My most generous hosts,” she said gravely, and offered a slight bow, “please forgive my interruption.” She glanced behind her, and then across the room before stepping forward again.
“Before Commander Spock takes irrevocable action, which will cause him to go back on renege on an obligation, and which could affect your honored guest even more adversely than her current circumstances, perhaps you would be willing to first consider the remaining alternatives?”
The moment they were alone, she threw herself onto his sofa. Eyes closed, sighed heavily and beckoned him to join her.
“Instead of lying, you should have let me handle it,” she admonished gently. He knew she wasn’t truly displeased with him, if the small hands and long, slender fingers caressing his scalp were fair indicators. “You can’t regret what you were unable to prevent.”
“Regret is a wasteful emotion,” he reminded her, and leaned back into her touch, granting her better access. “Even were it not, I would not regret the result of my actions.
“Though I had another solution in mind — one which, incidentally, you also offered — in this instance, dissembling provided a concrete benefit, one that outweighs any philosophical desirability of granting our questioners the full truth. Deciding to prevaricate would have been logical; however—”
Nyota was adamant in asserting her culpability. “I wasn’t about to let you end up accidentally married to someone else if you didn’t have to marry a Vulcan — no matter how tempted you were, so I lied. You backed me up. That means you lied, too. You’d never done that before and I never intended for it to happen because of me.”
“You didn’t lie, ashal-veh,” he said. “And in supporting your implication, I merely anticipated the truth. I did promise to offer myself to you should my father’s people reject my… contribution to the rebuilding efforts. Even if I’d never informed you of that obligation, it still existed.”
Nyota smiled, shaking her head.
“You lied, Spock,” she insisted. “We both did. I hope you can live with that.”
He gave her one of this rare full smiles. From the way his cheeks muscles stretched, he suspected it was very nearly a grin.
“If by that you mean can I accept living with you, then you should know I believe both our actions worthy of commendation.”
Next chapter
Spock's next first
1 of 10
2 of 10
3 of 10
4 of 10
5 of 10