Chapter Text
Spock had a deep fried peach on a stick.
He considered requesting that he be allowed to consume nothing else but deep fried peaches ever again. It was warm and tart-sweet, just at the edge of cooked, with a rich crackly brown coating around the outside. The only difficulty with the dessert, he decided, was that Michael had insisted he eat it directly off the stick, rather than locate a bowl and suitable utensils. Consequently, his attention was divided between walking and planning his bites to prevent the peach from falling off the stick, and more unpleasantly, his face and hands were growing sticky with oil and juice.
The situation was rapidly becoming unbearable. Spock finished the last couple of bites of peach and found a recycler for his stick, then shook out his hands in front of him. They grew stickier as they dried. His fingers were adhering to each other. He wiped them down the front of his winter cloak, which failed to remove any of the tacky juice from his hands. Instead, lint from the cloak attached itself to his fingers. He tried to flick the itchy threads off his hands to no avail, and in a moment of distraction wiped one sleeve across his face, transferring even more lint onto his lips and nose.
He became aware of his quickening breaths and told himself sternly that it was illogical to allow himself to be upset by mere physical discomfort. He needed to solve the problem. A sonic cleanser would be ideal, but he did not know where to find one in the alien quarter. Perhaps inside an eating establishment.
He backed through the door of a tea shop with his hands held up in front of him, the fingers spread so they wouldn't stick to each other, and tried not to look at the dark wisps of lint clinging to them. There was a bathroom around the corner. He backed into it and thoroughly cleaned his hands and face, then stripped off his cloak and folded it inside out so he wouldn't have to touch the peach juice and grease again. Once he was finished, he left the bathroom with the inside out cloak folded over his arm and only then realized he had no idea where Michael was.
A couple of Tellarite ladies had spotted him and were coming his way with disapproving looks on their faces and grabby looking hands. He ducked back out of the tea shop. The street was more crowded than he liked, and too many of the people walking up and down the sandstone brick pathways were not Vulcans. It was too loud with stompy feet in hard-soled shoes, talking pitched for less sensitive ears and washes of not-his happiness, excitement, or impatience prickling their way down his back.
He wiggled discomfort out of his shoulders and ran down a narrow alley into a much less crowded side street. then scooted himself onto a bench to settle his thoughts and decide what he ought to do next. The buildings here housed dull, adult things he had no interest in pursuing, but there was a small garden in a raised bed bounded by a retaining wall that might be interesting to explore. Insects and other small creatures tended to emerge in local winter to breed. Perhaps he could make some observations to report to his family after Sol located him.
He made the short walk to the garden, took out his datapad, and crawled in among the plants, careful not to disturb their roots.
*
Midwinter rainy season or not, Amanda found herself too overheated to continue after three dances. Sarek walked with her to a bench and left to get her a lemon shake up she'd seen at a stand not far from the courtyard. She was content to people watch for a while. Sarek returned briefly with her drink, brushed the back of her hand with his fingers, and melted back into the crowd, presumably to spend some of his accumulated arts credits at the craft stalls lining the street.
She was just about to take out a book when a flash of blue and white flitted through the crowd. The movement was familiar enough to catch her eye, so she was watching when a brown hand and foot appeared between bodies, then a puff of black hair, then Michael was standing in front of her, facing three quarters away and breathing hard. Her daughter hadn't yet seen her, but the tension in her body language suggested she wasn't merely playing.
"Michael!" she called out.
Michael whirled around to face her, mouth dropping open. Relief, disappointment, and guilt played across her face, one emotion replacing the other in a quick sequence while she stood, startled to stillness, in front of her. Then she broke into a run. "Amanda!"
"What is it, Michael?"
Michael visibly straightened and wiped her face smooth of emotion. "Spock is missing." She took a breath, possibly to organize her thoughts. "He has been out of my sight for twenty-two minutes. When last I saw him, I gave him a deep fried peach and told him to stay by me."
"All right," Amanda said. "Have you asked Sol where he is?"
Michael's shoulders sagged and her eyes dropped to the ground. "They went off to do teenager stuff when Birdie took Lala to the bathroom."
Sol and Malkie were hardly teenagers, as much as Malkie seemed to think she was. "Have a seat," Amanda said. "Let's think this through. If something happened to Spock, Sarek and Sol would both have already called security in to find him. We'll get Sarek and the three of us will have a look around. And then we will have a talk with your brother and Malkie about leaving you to look after Spock by yourself. Have you messaged Birdie yet?"
"No."
"All right, that's our next step. You sit right here and message Birdie. Stay put. I'll get your father."
Amanda scanned the crowd for Sarek's russet robes. He was standing at a craft stand, speaking with the proprietor as he tucked a wrapped package into a pocket. "My husband," she said.
"Amanda." He got a good look at her. "Something is wrong."
"The kids are here. Michael just found me."
Sarek raised an eyebrow. "May I surmise that Spock is missing again?" To her practiced eye, his expression took on a long suffering cast. "A moment." He looked off into middle distance. "He is in no distress. Shall we collect our daughter and assist in the search?" He accompanied her back to the bench where Michael was sitting, rod straight and wide eyed, her hands knotted in her lap.
Sarek nodded slightly at Michael and she stood, hands behind her back, mirroring his posture. "Have we attempted to locate Solomon and Malkiah?" he said coolly.
"They have not answered their messages," Michael said, attempting at disapproval but sounding more frustrated.
"I see."
"A deep fried peach on a stick?" Amanda asked.
Michael nodded miserably.
"I bet he went looking for a place to clean up. You know how he is about being messy. Can you take me back to where you bought the peaches? I'd bet he didn't get too far."
Michael caught her sleeve rather than her hand to drag her down the street to the food vendor's stall, then looked quickly about. "There," she said sharply, pointing to a tea shop marked with bright gold lettering. "He'd notice the sign. It's his favorite color."
"Good thinking."
Just outside the door, they nearly ran into a pair of Tellarite women standing side by side, arms akimbo, looking down a narrow alley. "Shameful, just shameful letting him run about like that," one said to the other.
"I do hope he's all right," the first said.
"Excuse me," Amanda said. "You sound like you might have seen a little boy--a little Vulcan boy--about so high?"
"Well, you're certainly not the mother. We should tell her you lost him."
"For your information, I am his mother, and I assume you don't have children or you would know how fast they are."
"Hmph," she said. "If I had children they would be better behaved."
Amanda did not have time for Tellarite recreational arguing. "Where did he go?" she said, enunciating each word.
"Down the alley at a run," the woman sniffed. She kept talking, but Amanda was done listening.
"Thank you," she said, still sharp voiced, and followed Michael down the alley to the next block over.
This block was much quieter, still a part of the alien quarter, but without the street fair. Michael peered down the length of the street from one end to the other, then took off running. Amanda shielded her eyes to see where she was going and saw three figures sitting on a low stone wall who looked to be the right size to be her children.
They were safe. She took a moment to message Birdie and Sarek with their location, then followed Michael at a more sedate pace, in part to give them a chance to catch up before she murdered her oldest child and his betrothed.
By the time they were half a dozen meters away it had to be clear to the children that they had been found, and to Sol at least that Amanda was Not Happy. Spock was walking along a narrow stone wall, arms spread for balance, while Sol and Malkie were having a conversation composed entirely of vague gestures that nonetheless clearly consisted of snotty remarks about passersby.
She walked deliberately into their sightline, folded her arms across her chest, and turned her maternal laser glare of doom on them. Michael, beside her, produced such a precise imitation of her stance and expression that Amanda found it hard to maintain the pose without laughing.
"What?" Malkie said crisply.
"You left Michael alone with Spock."
"And she went and lost him," Sol said. "Why aren't you mad at her?"
"Because you abandoned the two of them, even though you know it takes two people to watch Spock--"
"I don't need watching. I'm not a baby," Spock protested, jumping down from the wall to stand beside her. "I found Sol and Malkie myself."
Sarek's voice, quiet and firm, said from behind her, "Spock, come with me. There are matters we must discuss." Spock's eyes widened. He pinched his lips together in an approximation of his father's stony expression, then turned stiffly and walked away with him.
Just then, Birdie arrived at a jog, Lala perched on her hip. "Malkiah Lorenz, what's this I hear about you leaving Michael and Spock alone out here?"
"We only left for a minute because we saw somebody from school. It's not our fault they wandered off."
"Did you tell them you were leaving?"
"It was only a minute!"
Amanda was glad Sarek had found a reason to remove Spock from what was shaping up to be an emotional display, even if he was probably getting a lecture. Sol was getting that shrinky look he got when too many people around him were projecting conflicting emotions. He patted Malkie's hand hesitantly.
Malkie whirled on him, "I will be upset if I want to be upset, so quit it! It's not my fault your little brother doesn't have any sense!"
Sol snatched his hand away and turned his back on her.
Birdie sidled over to Amanda. "Do we know what happened?"
"The older two left Michael with Spock. He wandered off and she found me while looking for him."
Birdie looked firmly at Amanda. "I see. I've got this. You and Sarek get back to your date. We will all be going home. Solomon, Malkiah, you will be cleaning the workshop. Spock will stay home with Eli for the rest of the day, and Michael and Lala will accompany me to the arboretum."
Sarek returned with a chastened Spock at his side. He shuffled over to Michael and whispered, "I promise to stay beside you when you are watching me."
"Your promise is acceptable," Michael told him. "
"Are you sure, Birdie?" Amanda said.
"Go." She turned off down the street with the flock of children in tow.
Sarek appeared at her side. "Perhaps we should accompany them."
Amanda shook her head. "I think they've all been suitably chastened. What did you tell Spock?"
"I told him that he is old enough to listen to his elders and consider his actions before taking them. I also informed him that I will be placing him in wilderness survival classes beginning next month, along with the other children his age."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?"
"Amanda, Spock is no longer an infant, as he reminds us frequently. His peers are beginning the instruction that will lead to their Kahs-wan in two to three years."
"That is a dangerous tradition. I wish Spock didn't have to take part."
"Michael wishes to undergo the training as well."
Of course she did. Amanda could put her foot down, knowing that Sarek and Michael would wear her down over the next several weeks, or she could admit defeat now and negotiate better terms. "Fine, but I have conditions. First, she will complete the Kahs-wan at midwinter when she will not be at a severe disadvantage due to her species."
"Acceptable."
"Second, both she and Spock will wear tracking bracelets monitored at all times by the Embassy." Sarek looked as though she was about to protest and she cut him off. "This isn't to protect them from natural hazards, Sarek. For the same reason, the dates of their trials will be kept absolutely secret to everyone except ourselves, T'Pau and someone at the Embassy you select."
"You are concerned that someone who disapproves of the children's completing Vulcan rituals may seek to harm them."
"Can you blame me?"
"No, I cannot. I concur with the wisdom of your stipulations."
*
Embassy Security insisted on hearing from Sarek and Amanda in person to assure themselves that everyone was safe, and quite probably that Sarek had no plans to fire anyone overindulging the children's prank. The brief search for Spock in the alien quarter was another matter entirely, and one that occurred with such regularity that Amanda and the security officer assigned to monitor the family had code phrases worked out for the eventuality.
A bemused looking Tellarite in a coolsuit collected them from the security wing. "Come with me, please, you both have an additional responsibility to attend to."
"Of course," Sarek said. "Come, my wife." He tended to become much more traditional in diplomatic situations. She knew better than to tease him about it in front of a Tellarite, especially if they wanted to complete their remaining business quickly.
The Tellarite led them into the VIP suites. Amanda stopped him with a quiet, "Excuse me. If we are meeting with visiting dignitaries I would at least like a moment to freshen up."
"Well," the Tellarite sniffed, "You will be meeting privately with a planetary ambassador."
"A little more warning would have been nice," she said. "Might we have a few moments to put ourselves together?"
"There is a room for bathing and dressing in the VIP suite."
That's not what I meant, Amanda thought, but it was clear from their escort's brusque body language that arguing would not get her anywhere today. Sarek seemed to be of the same opinion since he didn't even try to change the man's mind. She caught him straining to get a look at himself in every reflective surface they passed. "You look fine," she told him.
Sarek studied her briefly. "Your hair has not remained entirely in its coif and you have clearly been exerting yourself." He twitched the corner of his mouth into a brief smile. "In short, you look even more attractive than usual."
"Ah, we're here. You may wish to call for food service to the room. I believe you are familiar with the procedure."
Amanda fought to control the blush that had risen on her cheeks after Sarek's comment. Their escort opened the door and hurried off. Amanda stepped into the room, concentrating on presenting a professional appearance, then noticed the room decor. "I'll be meeting with a planetary ambassador," she said.
"Indeed."
It looked like Valentine's Day had exploded all over the room's interior. Small paper flowers and Valentine hearts littered the floor and bedspread, pictures of kissing dinosaurs were affixed to the walls about a meter off the floor, and red, green, and white crepe spanned the room, some of it hanging low enough to drag across their shoulders.
She picked up a drawing of what appeared to be a Tyrannosaurus and a le matya locked in an amorous embrace. Maybe they were fighting. She hoped they were fighting.
She felt Sarek's breath on her shoulder. He leaned in to examine the picture. "An interesting if fantastical rendition," he said. "If I interpret the le matya's stance correctly, they are engaged in a mating dance."
"No more nature documentaries for Spock," Amanda said, then added, "I am joking, of course."
He lay one hand on the curve of her neck and reached around to pluck the drawing from her hands. "You understand that I wish him to prepare for the Kahs-wan in part because I wish him to be at lower risk from his roaming habit?"
Amanda chuckled. "I had not thought of it that way, no."
He placed the paper on a low table near them and turned her to face him. "I do not believe we were intended to spend the evening discussing the children," he said. "How might I assist you in refocusing your attention?"
She blushed. "Let me get cleaned up and then perhaps we can read together."
"I will endeavor to select something appropriate."
"You do that."