Learning Human Nature

Summary: Spock has noticed Cadet Uhura and wishes he knew more about how human inter-act "romantically."
Rating: NC 17- nudity, sex
Pairing(s): Spock and Uhura
Feedback: reviews welcome.
Characters: Original characters - Uhura's father, Vernon Uhura; her sister, Kendra; her sister's lover, Max; a friend, Gabriel and the Vulcan, Sunval.
Author’s notes: This is my first fanfic. I hope you enjoy it. Story takes place 2 years before the movie begins.
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, Star Trek fandom or any of the Star Trek characters portrayed in this story nor did I receive any financial compensation for writing this story.


Learning Human Nature
Chapter 3 – Feelings of inadequacy

Spock stood before the refresher and stared at the five garments hanging there ranging from a civilian pair of trousers and a matching shirt to his four Starfleet uniforms, his mess dress being the most formal.

A mild confusion came over him and he again realized he was experiencing “feelings of inadequacy” as defined in the entry on “First Dates” in the human cultural database.

The biological and physiological manifestations of human sexuality were simple really. One had only to look at Lt. Cadet Kirk to understand that humans could reproduce regardless of intellect and reason.

But this was not the complete picture of human relationships. He had learned that he needed to allow his human side to sometimes lead him in his many encounters with humans at Starfleet. However, most of those were professional or academic encounters. Yes, this was different.

He had spent nearly every moment of his young life trying to suppress emotion, not access it. And he had nurtured for many years the notion that his human side was somehow inferior to his Vulcan half, a notion shared by almost everyone around whom he had grown up. He felt strong loving feelings for his parents of course, but only rarely did he express them and then it was nearly always his mother who initiated the emotional dialog between them. Often she admonished him gently for not letting his feelings “out,” as if they were a rowdy pet that needed exercise.

A brief sigh escaped him and he reached for the pair of soft brown trousers and the shirt of similar casual style. He would be comfortable in these clothes and they were “civilian” which was important since he and Uhura were going somewhere non-work related.

He exited the sonic shower and dressed with workman like precision. Human psychology would very likely consider Spock to be “obsessive/compulsive,” at least in his house keeping and hygiene. But it was Vulcan’s Spartan like culture that had shaped him.

And his life for many years had been primarily work and study with small pleasures inserted in between semesters or tours of duty. He had little need for casual clothing and less room to store it in the sparse quarters.

They would meet at 1900 hours the that evening in front of the building which housed his quarters. They had agreed his meeting her at the dormitory might be uncomfortable for them both.

He had concerns about his role in the “first date” scenario but the thought of spending an entire evening with her was more quaking than his consideration of obscure protocol.

He tried to relax, admonishing himself for being so, how did Dr. McCoy put it once, “stuffy.” He completed his preparations and touched the keypad at his door, ready to venture out into the world of human social life, ready or not.


Uhura had said she liked music and so did he, so he planned to take her to see an ancient opera, “Madame Butterfly,” being performed at the renowned San Francisco Opera House.

The story took place in Japan, a country on earth that had a similar philosophy and mythology to that of Vulcan. He did briefly wonder if he should have taken the time to investigate the plot but he simply had not had the time to do that between his shift and the time he was supposed to meet her.

He would have to, as his human mother had often said, “hope for the best.”

Uhura rushed through a shower with water that was not hot but not freezing as it sometimes was this time of day in her dorm quarters. Her room mate was already gone for the evening either out with friends or on shift, she wasn’t sure.

She chose a light coral colored sheath of soft jersey that was loose fitting and flared at the hem just below her knee. Around her waist she tied a belt of metallic cord mixed with shells and small charms from her homeland in Africa. The outfit was chic and comfortable and she was very satisfied with the image that smiled back at her in the mirror.

She smoothed her hair before picking up a small hand bag and a gossamer hand-woven shawl to ward off the ever-present San Francisco night chill. Just as she was about to touch the keypad by her door she stopped. A feeling of mild terror invaded her brain.

What if she made a fool of herself? What if they couldn’t communicate with each other when they were alone? What if he tried to kiss her? What if he didn’t? She tried to calm herself down.

She knew she was the right woman for Spock. She had masterful command of observation. She also knew he wanted her and she had felt it the previous night in the slight touch of his finger on the side of her hand.

She understood his stillness and accepted his self control. More than all that, she trusted him with her life. He was the kind of man you knew you could count on, he would never do the wrong thing on purpose.

But this attempt to have a relationship with someone from another planet was both thrilling and challenging and she knew they were on dangerous and unfamiliar ground. She pushed the keypad and her door opened on to a whole new world.

He saw her coming and for a moment he was reminded of his home on Vulcan, the rosy glow of the sunset shone against her dress, the air around her becoming color of fire. He shuddered at her grace and reminded himself that he was trying to learn how to please her…. Just watching her walk toward him pleased him immensely.

“Hi, I’m not late am I’?” she said as floated close to him.

“Very punctual … eh… I may call you Nyota? Yes?” he answered as they began to walk together toward the street where they could hail a cab to take them to the Opera.

“Of course. And what should I call you?” she smiled with mischief. Both of them knew that Nyota Uhura was perhaps one of the only humans he knew who could pronounce his first name. But he wasn’t ready for that intimacy just yet.

“Just Spock… if that is agreeable to you,” he replied.
“Yes. ‘Spock.’ That is agreeable to me.” She slipped her arm through his and felt his strong arm flex, welcoming her closer. They walked stride for stride, her long legs able to match his motion.

About a third of the way through the first act of the opera, Spock began to seriously wonder if the plot of Madame Butterfly was going to take a miserable down hill turn.

He had liked the beginning and was feeling rather smug about his choice of activity for their first date. What could be better than a story about lovers from different cultures?

During the Amore o grillo (“Love or fancy”) number, Pinkerton admits to Sharpless that he does not know whether he is really in love or just infatuated, but he is bewitched with Butterfly’s innocence, charm and beauty, like a butterfly fluttering around and then landing with silent grace, so beautiful “that I must have her, even though I injure her butterfly wings.”

At once Spock began to process the thought that he could in fact hurt her if he wasn’t extremely careful. Not just physically, which he could do in an instant with a careless embrace. But also emotionally. Was he infatuated with her human-ness? Did he long to touch her body because he was lonely or because it was her body specifically? He had no point of reference with which to compare these feelings he had for her.

He felt the emotion of shame swirl into the cauldron of his lust. He must move carefully lest he do irreparable damage. Just where did he think this relationship would lead? Had he even considered that before venturing into it?

The answer was no. This one time in his life had he not thought the whole thing out. He was reacting to his own emotions, the son of his mother perhaps for the first time.

He didn’t physically pull away from her as they sat in the darkened theatre watching the tragic story unfold on the stage. But Uhura felt him depart from her in a subtle way she couldn’t immediately explain.

The tale of Butterfly and her Navy Lieutenant lover were unfamiliar to her. She hadn’t ever read about this particular composition and didn’t know if Spock was familiar with it or not. She listened intently and tried not to over think the metaphoric connection between the opera’s characters her own new romance with Spock.

Surely he hadn’t selected this on purpose. By the middle of the second act, Spock was certain his choice of Madame Butterfly had been a terrible mistake. The foreign sailor had professed his undying love for the beautiful Butterfly only to leave her alone and rejected by her people, carrying his child. “Disaster!” he thought.

He glanced sideways at Uhura’s face and saw the single tear roll down her cheek. He reached for her face and held it between his two hands.

“I am so sorry. I didn’t know the story…” She met his eyes and then dropped her gaze. “Come, let’s leave here,” he said and took her hand in his. They stood up and slipped into the empty hallway outside the theater.

“Nyota,” he whispered in her ear as he pulled her close to him. “That is not how I intended to entertain you. Please forgive me.” She put her forehead against his neck and whispered back to him.

“I know you didn’t know.” She looked at him in the halflight. “But that isn’t how we are going to turn out. I’d rather stop now if it is.” He tried to reply with honesty.

“No we are different than that couple. I am different than Pinkerton. I’ll do everything in my power to never hurt you.”

She hoped he knew his own heart.