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May. 26th, 2009 12:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tree_and_leafI see myself as a gen writer, really, which makes me wonder why at the moment everything I managed to complete is shippy Spock/ Uhura. Because it's easier, probably.
This fic, I'm ashamed to admit, is mostly Uhura and Gaila, but spectacularly fails the Bechdel test :(
Title: Just Good Friends
Characters: Uhura, Gaila, Spock (Pre-ship Spock/ Uhura)
Words: 1567
Summary: Gaila's assumptions are driving Uhura up the wall.
Rating: PG-13, I suppose (no sex happens, but Gaila is being Gaila).
Uhura liked her roommate, really she did, but there were times when Gaila drove her up the wall. Of course, she was a great kid, funny and friendly and generous and strong – God, if Uhura had had a childhood like Gaila’s… She was an admirable cadet and a great friend, but sometimes she was sheer hell to share a room with. Mostly, to be fair, when she brought guys home, and sure, Uhura was all in favour of people being confident and happy in their own sexuality, but there was a time and a place for it and she was bloody sick of having to go and work in the library, where you weren’t allowed tea or coffee, and she’d been looking forward to putting her feet up with a glass of wine and a book all day. A hospitable inquiry as to whether or not she’d like to share didn’t cut it.
Of course, that had been less of an issue since she’d become Spock’s adjunct, because Spock had an office, with two desks and a replicator and a decent supply of tea, and he had not only given her the passcode for the door, he had no objection to her using the place when he wasn’t there. And these days he was as much her friend as her boss; she remembered, with bafflement, how afraid she’d once been of him. He was so interested in what she had to say, and so interesting himself. He’d been teaching her to play the Vulcan lyre, and she’d taught him some folk songs (he already knew a formidable amount about the classical tradition). They’d been going to concerts together – none of the other cadets would admit to being interested in classical music; it wasn’t tough enough, or something like that – and if they did end up spending hours in coffee bars afterwards, it was only because half the pleasure of the music was discussing it afterwards. Or literature. Or linguistics. And, yeah, sometimes their own past, but that was what friends did.
And they were friends; Uhura had never had a friendship quite like it before. She liked Gaila a lot, she enjoyed going out for a drink with her, or with some of the other cadets. Most of them were good kids, fun to be with. Even that complete ass Kirk wasn’t so bad, though she wished he’d realise he wasn’t actually God’s gift to women. Self-confidence was good, right up to the point it tipped into self delusion… But Kirk was kind of charming, when he wasn’t consciously turning on the charm in an attempt to pull her. Spock was completely different; if anything he had too little idea of what an attractive man he was. Objectively speaking. Probably he had no time for that sort of thing, anyway. They were friends, and – no, she wasn’t going to say ‘that was all,’ because that implied it was somehow trivial because it didn’t involve shagging. But if anything, the reverse was true. The connection between them was, she thought, so intense precisely because it wasn’t sexual; there was a trust and openness that she’d be terrified of losing. Relationships were so fragile. But friendship, that you could rely on. It wasn’t worth risking screwing it up for… a quick screw. Or even several slow screws. Probably Vulcans were rubbish in bed, anyway. They probably thought that the only valid reason for sex was procreation – there had even been human cultures that thought that way, and Vulcans, unlike humans, probably had the self-control to stick to it. Though surely anyone with hands like Spock’s, long and deft and sensitive, but strong and controlled too, would know what he was doing, or at least be a quick study.
Not that she had ever thought about that. Not seriously. And anyway, she’d never risk his good opinion and friendship. She was only being sensible, only being logical. Just like Spock.
But Gaila didn’t get that.
Gaila was convinced that she and Spock were… what? sleeping together? A couple? (The two categories, after all, didn’t necessarily overlap. Especially from Gaila’s perspective). And even once Uhura had got it into her head that no, really, they weren’t, she had decided that Uhura was being stupid and that she and Spock should fall into bed with each other forthwith.
Which was a really, really, horrible idea. Well, not horrible as such, more ‘disastrous should it ever happen, which it won’t.’
“Oh, c’mon, Nyota,” said Gaila, “I totally understood why you didn’t want to nail him when he was your actual teacher, because that’s not only against regs, it’s also kind of creepy, but what’s stopping you now?”
“Nothing!”
Gaila smirked. “Now that’s interesting gossip.”
“I mean… nothing needs to stop me, because I don’t want to. And he certainly doesn’t.”
Gaila scoffed. “Yeah, right, girl. I’ve seen the way you look at him, when you think no-one’s looking. And I’ve seen the way he looks at you, when he thinks the same. If you ever manage to look at each other at the same time, you’ll probably end up tearing each other’s clothes off, right there and then. In the middle of the audio archive, or half way down a corridor, or…”
Uhura flushed. “Gaila, I really don’t want to hear your sick fantasies about me and my boss.”
“They weren’t my fantasies particularly,” said Gaila. Uhura decided to pretend she hadn’t heard the slight emphasis on the pronoun.
“Anyway,” she said, opening her closet, “I’m in a bit of a rush.”
“Late class?”
“No, I’m going to a concert.”
“Aha.”
“What do you mean, aha?”
“Everyone’s favourite pointy-eared linguistics instructor?”
“Well, yes.”
Gaila looked innocent. “Wear that lemon blouse, and that pencil skirt. I hear Vulcans like the demure-but-sexy look. And the demureness is such a lovely contrast when it gets ripped off…”
“Gaila, for the last time, Spock and I are friends. We’re good friends, and we’re happy that way, and even if I did fancy him, I’d never jeopardise that friendship.”
Gaila sighed. “Nyota Uhura, that’s the most illogical thing I’ve ever heard.”
Uhura blinked at her.
“Look,” said Gaila, in what she evidently thought was a patient tone, “You know how you’ve heard me say I don’t want to get married or even fall in love too hard, because then you’re either a slave or an owner and I don’t want to be either ever again?”
“Uh… yes? Which I still think is a horribly cynical attitude, but I don’t see –”
“Well, it strikes me that you’re just as much a slave now as you ever could be, except you aren’t even getting sex out of it.” Gaila looked pensive. “Mind you, I have no idea what Vulcans are like in bed. Maybe they’re really boring and clinical and all timed to the second to optimise conception. Which, by the way, would be a big argument for finding out before you get even more involved…”
“Gaila, no!”
“I’m only trying to be helpful.”
“Well, don’t…. And don’t go out on the pull, I won’t be out late, I’ve got an eight o’clock tomorrow, and I want to get an early night.”
“Uh huh. You haven’t been back before midnight once when you’ve been out with Spock.”
Uhura ignored this, and got changed, pointedly picking out a plain grey pair of pants and a high-necked top. Unexceptionally smart, and not at all hot-date wear.
“Ah, the librarian look. Serious, stern and possibly mildly kinky. Good choice,” said Gaila. Uhura tossed a pillow at her.
At that moment, the door chime surrounded.
“That’ll be Spock,” said Uhura distractedly, putting her jacket on.
“He’s picking you up?” mouthed Gaila; Uhura, ignoring it, said, “Come.”
The door slid open, revealing Spock. “Cadet Gaila, good evening. Uhura, are you ready?”
“Absolutely,” said Uhura, shooting Gaila a dirty look. Gaila, nothing abashed, jumped off her bed, said brightly “I hope the concert’s good,” and gave Uhura an affectionate parting hug. And took the opportunity to whisper quietly, “Honest, look at him the right way and you’ll have him on his knees. Begging.”
Uhura thought, if Spock heard that, Gaila, I’ll never, ever, speak to you again. Spock didn’t appear to have, though. He merely tilted his head, and said “Shall we?”
They walked amicably along the corridor, but Uhura found it harder than usual to think about the Twentieth Century electronic music they were going to hear.
“Derbyshire was a very remarkable talent. Decades ahead of her time,” said Spock, “Rebuilding the systems on which she produced her music must have been a fascinating exercise in itself.”
“Yes, indeed,” said Uhura, wondering if it was obvious that she was trying not to stare at him, “She used a lot of radio equipment, didn’t she? I’ve sometimes wondered what could be done with our communications arrays.”
“I have no doubt that you could produce something of interest,” said Spock, and his gaze rested for an instant on her face.
Tearing each others' clothes off halfway down a corridor… Really, Gaila was ridiculous. It would be undignified, and degrading, and quite impossible that Spock would ever, ever do anything of the sort.
Oh damn.
She was only thinking of this because of Gaila, of course, and because it was so absurd.
One of these days, thought Uhura, as she determinedly focussed on the musical possibilities of oscillators, Gaila was going to send her completely insane.
This fic, I'm ashamed to admit, is mostly Uhura and Gaila, but spectacularly fails the Bechdel test :(
Title: Just Good Friends
Characters: Uhura, Gaila, Spock (Pre-ship Spock/ Uhura)
Words: 1567
Summary: Gaila's assumptions are driving Uhura up the wall.
Rating: PG-13, I suppose (no sex happens, but Gaila is being Gaila).
Uhura liked her roommate, really she did, but there were times when Gaila drove her up the wall. Of course, she was a great kid, funny and friendly and generous and strong – God, if Uhura had had a childhood like Gaila’s… She was an admirable cadet and a great friend, but sometimes she was sheer hell to share a room with. Mostly, to be fair, when she brought guys home, and sure, Uhura was all in favour of people being confident and happy in their own sexuality, but there was a time and a place for it and she was bloody sick of having to go and work in the library, where you weren’t allowed tea or coffee, and she’d been looking forward to putting her feet up with a glass of wine and a book all day. A hospitable inquiry as to whether or not she’d like to share didn’t cut it.
Of course, that had been less of an issue since she’d become Spock’s adjunct, because Spock had an office, with two desks and a replicator and a decent supply of tea, and he had not only given her the passcode for the door, he had no objection to her using the place when he wasn’t there. And these days he was as much her friend as her boss; she remembered, with bafflement, how afraid she’d once been of him. He was so interested in what she had to say, and so interesting himself. He’d been teaching her to play the Vulcan lyre, and she’d taught him some folk songs (he already knew a formidable amount about the classical tradition). They’d been going to concerts together – none of the other cadets would admit to being interested in classical music; it wasn’t tough enough, or something like that – and if they did end up spending hours in coffee bars afterwards, it was only because half the pleasure of the music was discussing it afterwards. Or literature. Or linguistics. And, yeah, sometimes their own past, but that was what friends did.
And they were friends; Uhura had never had a friendship quite like it before. She liked Gaila a lot, she enjoyed going out for a drink with her, or with some of the other cadets. Most of them were good kids, fun to be with. Even that complete ass Kirk wasn’t so bad, though she wished he’d realise he wasn’t actually God’s gift to women. Self-confidence was good, right up to the point it tipped into self delusion… But Kirk was kind of charming, when he wasn’t consciously turning on the charm in an attempt to pull her. Spock was completely different; if anything he had too little idea of what an attractive man he was. Objectively speaking. Probably he had no time for that sort of thing, anyway. They were friends, and – no, she wasn’t going to say ‘that was all,’ because that implied it was somehow trivial because it didn’t involve shagging. But if anything, the reverse was true. The connection between them was, she thought, so intense precisely because it wasn’t sexual; there was a trust and openness that she’d be terrified of losing. Relationships were so fragile. But friendship, that you could rely on. It wasn’t worth risking screwing it up for… a quick screw. Or even several slow screws. Probably Vulcans were rubbish in bed, anyway. They probably thought that the only valid reason for sex was procreation – there had even been human cultures that thought that way, and Vulcans, unlike humans, probably had the self-control to stick to it. Though surely anyone with hands like Spock’s, long and deft and sensitive, but strong and controlled too, would know what he was doing, or at least be a quick study.
Not that she had ever thought about that. Not seriously. And anyway, she’d never risk his good opinion and friendship. She was only being sensible, only being logical. Just like Spock.
But Gaila didn’t get that.
Gaila was convinced that she and Spock were… what? sleeping together? A couple? (The two categories, after all, didn’t necessarily overlap. Especially from Gaila’s perspective). And even once Uhura had got it into her head that no, really, they weren’t, she had decided that Uhura was being stupid and that she and Spock should fall into bed with each other forthwith.
Which was a really, really, horrible idea. Well, not horrible as such, more ‘disastrous should it ever happen, which it won’t.’
“Oh, c’mon, Nyota,” said Gaila, “I totally understood why you didn’t want to nail him when he was your actual teacher, because that’s not only against regs, it’s also kind of creepy, but what’s stopping you now?”
“Nothing!”
Gaila smirked. “Now that’s interesting gossip.”
“I mean… nothing needs to stop me, because I don’t want to. And he certainly doesn’t.”
Gaila scoffed. “Yeah, right, girl. I’ve seen the way you look at him, when you think no-one’s looking. And I’ve seen the way he looks at you, when he thinks the same. If you ever manage to look at each other at the same time, you’ll probably end up tearing each other’s clothes off, right there and then. In the middle of the audio archive, or half way down a corridor, or…”
Uhura flushed. “Gaila, I really don’t want to hear your sick fantasies about me and my boss.”
“They weren’t my fantasies particularly,” said Gaila. Uhura decided to pretend she hadn’t heard the slight emphasis on the pronoun.
“Anyway,” she said, opening her closet, “I’m in a bit of a rush.”
“Late class?”
“No, I’m going to a concert.”
“Aha.”
“What do you mean, aha?”
“Everyone’s favourite pointy-eared linguistics instructor?”
“Well, yes.”
Gaila looked innocent. “Wear that lemon blouse, and that pencil skirt. I hear Vulcans like the demure-but-sexy look. And the demureness is such a lovely contrast when it gets ripped off…”
“Gaila, for the last time, Spock and I are friends. We’re good friends, and we’re happy that way, and even if I did fancy him, I’d never jeopardise that friendship.”
Gaila sighed. “Nyota Uhura, that’s the most illogical thing I’ve ever heard.”
Uhura blinked at her.
“Look,” said Gaila, in what she evidently thought was a patient tone, “You know how you’ve heard me say I don’t want to get married or even fall in love too hard, because then you’re either a slave or an owner and I don’t want to be either ever again?”
“Uh… yes? Which I still think is a horribly cynical attitude, but I don’t see –”
“Well, it strikes me that you’re just as much a slave now as you ever could be, except you aren’t even getting sex out of it.” Gaila looked pensive. “Mind you, I have no idea what Vulcans are like in bed. Maybe they’re really boring and clinical and all timed to the second to optimise conception. Which, by the way, would be a big argument for finding out before you get even more involved…”
“Gaila, no!”
“I’m only trying to be helpful.”
“Well, don’t…. And don’t go out on the pull, I won’t be out late, I’ve got an eight o’clock tomorrow, and I want to get an early night.”
“Uh huh. You haven’t been back before midnight once when you’ve been out with Spock.”
Uhura ignored this, and got changed, pointedly picking out a plain grey pair of pants and a high-necked top. Unexceptionally smart, and not at all hot-date wear.
“Ah, the librarian look. Serious, stern and possibly mildly kinky. Good choice,” said Gaila. Uhura tossed a pillow at her.
At that moment, the door chime surrounded.
“That’ll be Spock,” said Uhura distractedly, putting her jacket on.
“He’s picking you up?” mouthed Gaila; Uhura, ignoring it, said, “Come.”
The door slid open, revealing Spock. “Cadet Gaila, good evening. Uhura, are you ready?”
“Absolutely,” said Uhura, shooting Gaila a dirty look. Gaila, nothing abashed, jumped off her bed, said brightly “I hope the concert’s good,” and gave Uhura an affectionate parting hug. And took the opportunity to whisper quietly, “Honest, look at him the right way and you’ll have him on his knees. Begging.”
Uhura thought, if Spock heard that, Gaila, I’ll never, ever, speak to you again. Spock didn’t appear to have, though. He merely tilted his head, and said “Shall we?”
They walked amicably along the corridor, but Uhura found it harder than usual to think about the Twentieth Century electronic music they were going to hear.
“Derbyshire was a very remarkable talent. Decades ahead of her time,” said Spock, “Rebuilding the systems on which she produced her music must have been a fascinating exercise in itself.”
“Yes, indeed,” said Uhura, wondering if it was obvious that she was trying not to stare at him, “She used a lot of radio equipment, didn’t she? I’ve sometimes wondered what could be done with our communications arrays.”
“I have no doubt that you could produce something of interest,” said Spock, and his gaze rested for an instant on her face.
Tearing each others' clothes off halfway down a corridor… Really, Gaila was ridiculous. It would be undignified, and degrading, and quite impossible that Spock would ever, ever do anything of the sort.
Oh damn.
She was only thinking of this because of Gaila, of course, and because it was so absurd.
One of these days, thought Uhura, as she determinedly focussed on the musical possibilities of oscillators, Gaila was going to send her completely insane.
Re: Just Good Friends
Date: 2009-05-26 12:57 pm (UTC)Re: Just Good Friends
Date: 2009-05-26 02:23 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-26 02:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-26 02:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-26 09:56 pm (UTC)...
<3
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-02 02:31 am (UTC)(I haven't gone looking for Star Trek fanfic, and this is so good and about my favorite ship, which is why it's so exciting.)
(no subject)
Date: 2010-09-02 02:50 pm (UTC)