Montgomery Scott

It had been several weeks since the away mission that had left him and Uhura stranded for hours, alone, injured, and freezing to death on some godforsaken lump of rock, the name of which he didn't even know. What he did know was that not long after him and Uhura had beamed back aboard the ship, the villages of those who'd killed the security guards and injured them had been razed to the ground by the ship's phasers. And good riddance, in his opinion. Not that it mattered. He'd likely never be going back to that planet again. The ship was already well on her way to another mission, and his time after that incident had been filled with keeping the engine in working order. It kept him busy, but not busy enough. He'd been spending a lot of time in his quarters, trying not to think too much about Uhura. It was strange. He'd told her things he wouldn't have, otherwise, when he was delirious back on that planet - and McCoy had later informed him that the arrows the natives had shot them with had been dipped in a mild toxin, which explained the rapid deterioration of their condition; their decision to do a quick field operation on each other had been a wise one. He didn't want to think about what might have happened had they left the arrowheads in to wait for a medical team to extract them.

But before that incident, he hadn't thought much about the rivalry he and Uhura shared, if it could be called that. He'd stolen her knife for the hell of it, because it had seemed a good idea at the time. It had proved entertaining, at any rate. And then there was the turbolift incident, which had sparked.... whatever it was, that day he'd received the message from his sister. He'd kissed Uhura, entirely on a whim, because she was there, because hell, it had seemed like a good idea at the time. And then.... the away mission. Although he'd arguably saved her life first, there was no denying that she had saved his life, keeping him awake, both of them trying to keep each other warm. And he'd told her that he owed her, and that he would repay the debt of her saving his life. And now... He caught himself idly thinking about her for no apparent reason at all, or at least none that he could determine. He wasn't quite sure what to think about that. He'd always liked her, or at least he'd admired her; she was an excellent officer, and she had a certain flair for the dramatic, and while she was dangerous he'd never really considered her a threat. But like an exotic predator, it was better to admire her from afar; she was beautiful, but beneath that facade was a ruthless and bloodthirsty killer.

He'd taken to avoiding her. Not so much because he was intimidated by her - he wasn't - or because he thought she could do him much harm - any harm she did to him, she'd have to have his permission to do first, because he wouldn't allow it any other way - but because he had absolutely no idea how he really felt about her. He'd pledged to repay her for saving his life, because in the back of his mind, he knew he'd actually miss her if anything happened to her. And that worried him. He couldn't afford any emotional attachments to anyone. Especially not to someone like Uhura. For one thing, it was incredibly unlikely that she cared one way or another if anything happened to him, and for another, any emotional attachment of any kind could easily be manipulated and used against him. So for his own safety, and for his own good, for the past month he'd been actively going out of his way to avoid her.

So far, it had worked. Until Kirk called a meeting to discuss the next mission. He spent most of it avoiding even so much as looking at Uhura, but when the meeting ended and Kirk dismissed them, he didn't get up quickly enough to beat the rush to the door, and ended up getting stuck next to Uhura as he waited for the others to file out. He gave her a small nod, but refrained from saying anything, praying that she'd let him go without bringing up the fact that he'd been avoiding her.