Lawful Obedience, Part Fifteen

by J. Rosemary Moss

Genre: Slash Fan Fiction (Star Trek)
Rating: PG-13

LINK TO PART ONE

~

Lee escorted Lt. Uhura into the rec-room early enough to procure good seats. He waited until the lieutenant was seated before asking her if she'd care for a refreshment. She treated him to a warm smile and said that a glass of sparkling water would be fine. He smiled in return and then walked over to the replicator.

Fortunately, Scotty had taught him how to use the machine. He was able to call up a glass of sparkling water for himself and the lieutenant without a hitch. He was under the impression that 'sparkling' water was water with carbonation—at any event, it wasn't alcoholic, so he was willing to try it.

He handed Uhura her glass and took his seat beside her. He was still conscious of her clothing—or lack thereof—but he could scarcely fault her for it, as Starfleet had designed the 'uniform.' But he wondered how the men aboard the Enterprise managed to avoid a state of permanent distraction.

"I know you've never seen a movie," Uhura said, calling his mind back to their purpose in the rec-room. "Have you seen many plays?"

"Not many, no," Lee answered. "A great deal of my time was taken up by the Army, I'm afraid."

She smiled. "And the rest by a very large family, I understand," she said. "And not only family, but pets."

Lee smiled back. "Yes," he answered. Then he cocked his head at her. "It sounds as if you've done some research, Lieutenant."

She blushed at that. "I have," she owned. "I read that while you lived in Brooklyn, you rescued a dog from the Narrows."

"Oh—that was Dart!" he said, laughing. "She was a marvelous animal. Half drowned, poor thing, when I fished her out of the water. And at length she gave birth to Spec, who was one our favorite terriers."

"The one thing I don't like about serving on the Enterprise is the fact that we don't have pets," Uhura confided. "And I envy you for having had so many!"

"Well, lots of children often imply lots of pets," Lee said. "We had any number of dogs and cats—not to mention horses and ponies."

"Including the famous Traveller?" she asked.

Lee nodded, still smiling. "Yes—Traveller was…I don't even have words to express how much I loved that horse. I never had a truer friend."

"A poet named Stephen Vincent Benet wrote about him," Uhura said, leaning closer to him. "Let me see if I can manage the words:

`The horse is an iron-grey, sixteen hands high,
Short back, deep chest, strong haunch, flat legs, small head,
Delicate ear, quick eye, black mane and tail,
Wise brain, obedient mouth.'"


She broke off for a moment. "He used your own words, didn't he?"

"Yes," Lee said, remembering the grey gelding with a sharp, biting pain. Traveller had outlived his master, but he would be long dead by now.

"He goes on to say that they bred such horses in Virginia then—and buried them near Christian ground, so that they'd be at hand for their masters' ghosts," she explained, smiling again. "And then…and then he spoke about Traveller's rider."

Lee should have allowed her to leave it at that. But the look on her face told him that she had far more to say to him. He hesitated for a moment, but then decided that he could stand to hear the rest—and he could stand to hear her opinion on it. Perhaps he owed her that much.

"Go on," he said gently. "You can let the poet speak his mind on Traveller's master."

Uhura's blush deepened, but she was willing to continue. "He strove to—to humanize you, to see you…well, not as a marble statue but as a man of flesh and blood."

She paused and furrowed her brow. "He said you were a loving father and a good husband. He said you believed in God but didn't preach too much. And—and I do remember what he said about you as a general:

`This man could reason, but he was a fighter,
Skilful in every weapon of defence
But never defending when he could assault,
Taking enormous risks again and again,
Never retreating while he still could strike,
Dividing a weak force on dangerous ground
And joining it again to beat a strong,
Mocking at chance and all the odds of war
With acts that looked like hairbread'th recklessness -
We do not call them reckless, since they won.'"

Lee raised his eyebrows at her. "That's a fair bit of memorizing," he ventured.

She grinned. "I learn quickly. And I like those lines—they remind me of Captain Kirk. He's like that too: 'Taking enormous risks again and again, never retreating while he could strike…mocking at chance and all the odds of war..."

"With acts that looked like hairbread'th recklessness," Lee finished.

Uhura nodded. "Except they're not reckless—no more than your acts were. Kirk is reasonable too. And he has his Spock the way the poet says you had your Jackson."

Lee smiled at that. "Indeed," he said. "I suppose I should have guessed that Capt. Kirk and Mr. Spock have a similar bond between them."

"And I remember something else the poet said about you," Uhura continued. "He says you hid the key to your thoughts from would-be biographers."

She paused, slanting her eyes at him. "But then he quotes you saying, 'I'm always wanting something.' And he says that those words crack the marble of your statue and let us glimpse the flesh-and-blood man beneath it. And he, ah, finishes your section wondering what you wanted:

`It was not God or love or mortal fame.
It was not anything he left undone...

He wanted something. That must be enough.
Now he rides Traveller back into the mist.'"

Lee looked away for a moment, and then turned back to Uhura with a rueful smile. "You have the advantage of me, Lieutenant," he said. "My life is, of necessity, largely open to you. Whereas I know next to nothing about you."

She smiled warmly again and took a sip of her water. "I have no advantage," she insisted, setting the glass down. "You've managed to remain quite an enigma through the centuries, Mr. Lee. Besides, if you want to know more about me, you've only to ask."

The lights blinked then, presumably indicating that the 'movie' was about to start. For the first time, Lee noticed that the makeshift theatre had grown quite full.

"Perhaps, if you don't mind, you'll tell me more about yourself after the performance," he said.

She smiled at him once more before the lights dim. "I won't mind at all."

~

Spock sat quietly next to McCoy as they waited for the film to start. The doctor didn't seem to mind the quiet—and he didn't feel the need to fill the quiet with empty chatter. No, he was content just to enjoy Spock's companionship.

That was important to Spock—the fact that McCoy didn't require mindless chit-chat of him. That he, too, knew the value of silence. It was one of many things that told Spock the two men were fundamentally compatible.

Spock's eyes strayed toward the front of the 'theatre.' Lee and Uhura were sitting together in the third row, deep in conversation.

Spock raised one eyebrow at that. They were speaking softly, but his acute sense of hearing picked up their words. Uhura was quoting parts of Stephen Vincent Benet's Army of Northern Virginia to Lee. Fascinating.

Spock glanced at Dr. McCoy and saw that he, too, had noticed Lee and Uhura sitting together and conversing. McCoy turned toward Spock with a shrug that spoke volumes. It said that he didn't know what to make of the pair either. And it said that it was none of their business anyway—Uhura and Lee weren't specimens under their microscope.

Spock furrowed his brow. He had little interest in the various romances that were a constant feature of life aboard the Enterprise. The crew was on a five year mission together—it was only logical that the human crewmembers would regard each other with interest. Providing the romances did not disrupt anyone's duties, Spock was willing to ignore them.

But Spock did wonder if Uhura would understand how different Lee's assumptions were from her own. Spock had not quite understood that himself until he melded with the man.

Lee was not a man who would easily select an African woman for a mate. And he would be deeply shocked by Uhura's 'three-date-rule,' for he would never consider intimacy before marriage. And Uhura might not understand just how pious he was—he didn't wear his Christianity on his sleeve, but his religion was an integral part of his personality.

McCoy, Spock noticed suddenly, was grinning at him. He seemed to have been following Spock's thoughts.

"I never thought I'd see you take such a human interest in a fellow crew-member," McCoy said with a playful smile.

"It is not a 'human interest,' Doctor," Spock insisted. "I am merely concerned that Lt. Uhura's ability to perform her duties might be compromised if she suffers what you humans refer to as a 'broken-heart.'"

McCoy rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, Spock. Uhura's no fool. And if Lee breaks her heart, it'll be by accident. He won't string her along and he won't take advantage of her. If things don't work out--assuming there's anything between them in the first place--she'll get over him."

Spock contented himself with a nod. But his thoughts turned back to Lee. When he was alone with the doctor, he would have to tell him of a decision that he had reached since he had melded with the new yeoman.

Lee's opinions regarding intimacy and marriage were likely correct, Spock had decided. Sexual relationships outside of a bonded marriage were problematic. Spock had only to look at his captain's complicated love life to be made acutely aware of that. Therefore, he would not engage in such activities with the Doctor until they were bonded together.

Of course, forming that bond would also be problematic. Not impossible—but it would be necessary for Spock to extricate himself from the marriage his father had arranged for him. And that, he thought ruefully, was something else he would have to bring up with the good doctor.

Spock sighed to himself, hoping that such a conversation would not prove too inappropriate for a first date.

LINK TO PART SIXTEEN