His body reacted before he did, and for a brief moment, the only thing he was aware of was the fact that his arm was suddenly in a great deal of pain. With a hiss of pain, he struck out with his uninjured arm, stepping back at the same time, his hands shaking with adrenaline. She had managed to stab him, and it was only thanks to his reflexes that she hadn't managed to get him in the gut or the ribs.

He crouched back against the wall opposite her, clamping his hand down over the wound, clutching his arm to his chest. "The fuck was that for?" he snarled, that cool facade gone. His plans to strike back hadn't taken into account the shock of actually being injured; although he was no stranger to pain, the initial shock of it was always a surprise. He had the presence of mind to at least draw his knife, although that meant taking pressure off the wound; keeping a close eye on Uhura, he used the knife to tear a strip of fabric from his sleeve, binding it around the wound in the hopes that it would at least mean he wasn't going to bleed out.