Ponies are Illogical
"Captain, I assure you, I am not the best option in this regard..."
"Spock, look. The Ambassador's down on the planet for who knows how many more hours. He's demanding, strict, and doesn't take 'no' for an answer. He spoils his kids like crazy, and if we don't take care of them, who knows what'll happen to us? Just look after them for a couple hours, it can't be that hard."
"Sir, if I may, why should not some other member of the crew tend to this decidedly...human task?"
A heavy sigh. "Spock, Ambassador Rhetor insists only someone from the Bridge crew can watch his kids, and everyone else is dealing with the aftershock of escorting him. You know full well Uhura, Chekov, and Sulu are too busy to do it. Bones and Christine are down here with us, otherwise I'd make them handle it. You're quite frankly the only one for the job at this point, Spock, as much as I hate to admit it and as much as I know you hate it in general. But you have to deal with it, Spock. I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do."
Spock tried very hard not to sigh over the communicator. He knew that escorting the Ambassador would be challenging, but he had not anticipated running a day care.
"Spock?" Kirk repeated over the device.
"Understood, Captain," he replied quickly. "But what, sir, am I to do with the children? I am hardly the most..."fun" of babysitters."
Kirk exhaled heavily on the other end of the line. "I'm not sure, Spock," he admitted wearily. "Just humor them. Do what they want you to, within reason. Play a holo-vid for them or something. Look, I have to go. Break's almost over. I'll talk to you later, okay Spock? Just hang in there. We'll try to make it as fast as possible."
Myriads of frustrated and confused thoughts ran through Spock's brain, but there was nothing he could do.
"Aye, sir."
OoOoO
Walking into the room where the Ambassador's twin children were staying, after dismissing the Security crewman on temporary watch, was difficult enough.
Keeping his dignity while doing so was nearly impossible.
The little girl, who preferred being called Susie over her given name Susanna, looked up instantly at his approach. One hand hovered over her paper coloring book, crayon still in hand, while she looked with curiosity at the newest arrival.
"You're Mr. Spock, right?" she questioned, her brow a little furrowed in concentration. "Daddy said you were a...a..."
"A Vulcan."
Spock turned slightly to see Susie's twin Samuel, who liked the name Sam better, placing another piece on a construction of building blocks. His heather bangs fell over his eyes slightly, but his determined blue eyes still shone through. "Dad said you're a Vulcan. Which means a kind of person who doesn't have feelings."
His sister tilted her head a little in confusion. "So you don't ever get your feelings hurt, Mr. Spock? Because you don't have any?"
Spock was honestly at a loss for words, and he would have stood there like an idiot had Sam not continued speaking.
"Why does it matter?" the seven-year-old's skeptical voice answered. Before Susie could respond, he added, "We're only here for a couple days, tops, till Dad gets another assignment. And you can bet he'll drag us along with him again. Why bother asking all your questions, Susie, if we're just moving on anyway?"
Spock's eyebrow shot up, but he remained silent. He knew that Ambassador Rhetor, unlike many in his profession, liked to bring his children with him on many of his more peaceful assignments. He subscribed to the idea that it provided the children with more social interaction and vital skills needed for the future, as well as grooming them in diplomatic skills. Spock had little say on the matter, though he did remember his father taking him on many such missions himself.
He knew how beneficial it could be, but also hard it could be for ones so young.
"Oh, you're just a sourpuss," Susie insisted with a frown as she looked back at Spock. "Do you wanna color with me?"
He was taken aback at the question.
Sam chuckled in the corner where he was still working with building blocks that resembled old-Earth style legos. "No Starfleet officer wants to play with coloring books, Susie," he sneered as he added another lego to his building. "That's kid stuff."
"Oh, and like your blocks aren't?" she fired off just as quickly. "You look like a five-year-old."
Sam's face reddened, but he said nothing to justify her baited insult. He merely kept playing, refusing to acknowledge her in any way.
"Good," the girl fairly beamed. "That'll shut him up. So, Mr. Spock, do you want to color? Pleeaase?"
"I..." The Vulcan couldn't really get any words out fast enough.
"No one ever colors with me," Susie added sadly, her blue eyes downturned and her bottom lip jutted out.
Was this the ever-famous human "puppy dog eyes"?
The look truly was invincible.
He sighed, swallowing his pride. "If you wish."
"Yay!" Instantly she was beaming again, and she pulled up a chair for the Vulcan with great pomp and circumstance. Spock tried very hard not to notice that the chair was child-sized as well as the table, and that the only way to keep any shred of dignity he had left was to balance as gracefully on the tiny chair as he could.
It was no easy task.
And it distracted him, momentarily, from the fact that Susie was picking out the page he supposedly was to color. She frowned in childlike concentration as she ripped out the old-school coloring page and grabbed a box of crayons. "Here you go," she chirped. "This one's for you. Remember to color in the lines!"
Staring down at the page nearly made his jaw drop.
Outlined on it was a picture of three cartoon ponies surrounded by just as disproportionately-sized flowers.
OoOoO
"Are you certain?"
"Of course I am! Everyone knows that pink is the best color for a pony!" Susie insisted, looking at Spock like he was a very silly person. "And make sure to make the next one purple with an orange mane!"
But it is illogical to color a pony pink, purple, or orange when the genetic probability for this coloration to occur is essentially impossible...Spock felt like he was going to shatter into pieces at only moment, but he fought the emotion of despair and picked up a crayon. If he was going to babysit, he might as well do it properly. Jim was counting on him. The Ambassador had to be impressed with the Enterprise's work. And...yeah, he knew there wasn't much he could justify all this with. He might as well give in.
Focusing all his willpower into coloring well and within the lines to distract himself from the insanity of it all, Spock of Vulcan colored one pony pink, one purple and orange, and the final polka-dotted.
Under Susie's directions, he continued by making all the flowers various shades and textures as well as signing his name at the bottom.
His signature. On a pony coloring page.
At this point, Spock figured he probably had to give up on the concept of dignity as a whole. Part of him still fought against such an admission, but the rest of him knew full well that he was fighting a losing battle.
Coloring in a picture of three ponies can do that to a man.
Regardless, Susie seemed to be pleased with his quote-on-quote "artwork". She was chattering on and on as she blissfully admired his work and added finishing touches to her own. And although she was quite sweet, Spock was finding himself desperately hoping Sam would want someone to join him in his lego building. No offense to little Susie, of course, but Spock didn't think he'd make it through another page of coloring book.
He was surprised he'd made it this far.
Excusing himself quietly from the coloring table - by admiring Susie's work and encouraging her to attempt another page - he made his way over to Sam and his legos. He stood behind the boy for a while, quietly observing the child's work. Sam really was quite a competent builder, even with something as primitive as the building blocks he was using; the structure was properly supported as well as aesthetically pleasing. To be quite frank, Sam could make a good engineer, if he desired it.
"What are you doing?"
An eyebrow rose. "I beg your pardon?"
Sam kept his eyes trained on his work, but Spock could sense the anger flowing off the young boy before his words confirmed it. "You're just standing there, watching me build this thing," Sam grumbled. "Is that all you ever do?"
Spock eased himself to the floor, eyebrow no longer raised. "That depends," he replied calmly. "Would you care to define your question?"
Sparking blue eyes flashed at him for a second before quickly retreating to the legos. "Never mind," he snapped. "You'll just spout some nonsense anyway."
Spock titled his head ever so slightly, tired but amused eyes watching Sam closely. "I see. So you do not object to my presence after all?"
Sam gritted his teeth. "All I'm saying is you don't have to watch over us like some nanny. We've already got one of those."
"Indeed."
"She's on vacation right now. Dad wanted to take us on this trip himself. Lot of good that did."
"I see." His voice was a deep, but strangely calming, rumble as he rested against the wall.
"No, you don't see," Sam muttered. "No one does. You know what it's like, being an ambassador's kid?" Blue eyes flashed at Spock through the child's bangs.
Spock stopped himself from smiling, endearing as the child and question at hand were. "Why don't you tell me?" he requested instead. "I'm sure you could explain it better than most."
"Well, you got that much right," the kid mumbled as he put a few more legos on his creation. "I know a lot better than anybody else, what it's like. You never get to see your dad while he's off ambassador-ing, and whenever he does come home, he brings you a bunch of gifts and pretends they make up for it. He tells you all about his adventures, but he never really does, see. He just tells you what he wants to and tells your mom the real stuff after you've gone to bed. Half the time you wake up in the morning and he's gone without so much as a goodbye. And when he brings you along for the ride, he drops you off in some stuffy old room to play with some bored strangers who don't wanna babysit you, anyway. It's stupid."
The child ended his rant with a barely perceptible sniff. He quickly grabbed another fistful of legos to distract himself with and kept his eyes down. "So if you want to leave, that's fine. We can take care of ourselves." He continued applying legos, not really heeding their locations anymore, expecting his babysitter to leave.
So he was incredibly surprised when he looked up a few minutes later to see Spock still sitting there. The Vulcan was quietly observing him, wise brown eyes indecipherable in their meaning. Spock gently reached out, grabbed one of the legos near him, and held it up between his fingers.
"Can you tell me, Sam, about this piece?"
The bewildered child furrowed his brow, but despite everything he answered. "It's red. And it's smooth and flat on one side, and on the top it's all bumpy."
Spock nodded and turned the lego over and over in his fingers. "I'll let you in on a little secret," the Vulcan said in a quiet tone, studying the lego piece. "I do know what it's like to be the son of an ambassador." Wondering eyes turned up towards him. "All the anger and frustration in your life, all the fear that perhaps your father may never come back...I admit that even a Vulcan like me knows this. Feels this." He sighed, quiet and heavy. His brown eyes rose to meet Sam's blue ones even as the Vulcan rubbed the lego between his fingers. "But you must never give up, Sam. Right now your life is bumpy. But just as soon, it may be straight and smooth."
A flash of understanding, and tiny arms wrapped around Spock in a hug.
OoOoO
Kirk and McCoy jogged down the hallways. Or rather, Kirk jogged and McCoy tried his staggering best to keep up with his energetic captain.
Nearing the door to the twins' room, the doctor put his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath. "Jim, is it all that important we hurry this much?" he gasped. "I'm a doctor, not a track athlete."
Jim chuckled at his friend as he circled back to join him, but his eyes still betrayed his underlying worry. "Look Bones, if Spock's still alive in there he's gonna want us there as fast as possible. Can you imagine what it must be like for a Vulcan to babysit two little kids like that?"
McCoy grumbled in Kirk's general direction, since his typical Glare of Doom was somewhat impeded by his frantic panting. "Whatever, Jim," he muttered. Straightening up despite wanting a few more moments to rest, he added, "I guess we had better save the pointy-eared nanny. Can't imagine how bored those kids are, anyway. Feel worse for them than I do for him."
"Glad you see it my way."
"Don't see how I couldn't, you out-ranking me and all."
The two stepped inside the room to quite a surprising situation.
Spock was sitting down, leaning against the wall, while the two twins carefully built a bridge of legos all around him. Sam was fitting pieces into a structure around his head, mindful of the Vulcan's hair and ears, while Susie taped coloring book pages to every open lego surface she could find. The two children were chattering excitedly as they worked, and they even traded jobs once or twice.
"Where do you think your picture should go, Mr. Spock?" Susie suddenly asked the Vulcan.
Kirk and McCoy exchanged a look. Spock's picture?
"I know! How about right on top?" Sam interjected. "I can clamp it down with a lego."
"Yeah! That's perfect!"
"Might I ask what's going on in here?"
McCoy could've sworn Spock nearly destroyed the lego bridge around him, the way he jumped. Vulcans don't get startled, his sainted aunt.
"I-sir!" the Vulcan's voice came from within the lego structure.
The twins around him fell to the ground and absolutely giggled. Kirk tried very hard to hide his own grin. "What happened in here?" he asked again, barely restraining the amusement in his voice.
"Mr. Spock let us play with legos!" Susie exclaimed with beaming face.
"Well, I can see that."
"Aw, it was all harmless fun," Sam added, putting on his best "innocent" face. "Mr. Spock was really good to us. You see what we did? Took us a whole hour, but we finally built the best lego sandcastle of all time!"
McCoy chuckled pleasantly as he examined their handiwork, which Spock was still trapped under for fear of breaking. "Very nice," the doctor commented. "A true marvel of architecture. I like it." Sam and Susie grinned wider at that. McCoy blinked as his eye caught something on one of the pages. "What's this?" he mumbled in surprise.
He picked up a certain page, with three multi-colored ponies on it, and examined the particular signature that he knew so well.
His jaw dropped.
When he could finally speak again, after Kirk had joined him in some concern for the doctor's well-being, he sputtered, "Well, what do you know? I never would've thought our resident Vulcan was an artist."
Spock found an entirely new level of gratitude for the lego shelter that hid him somewhat from his superiors.
Especially when the Ambassador himself entered the room.
"Dad!" the twins shouted as one, running up to their father and giving him a huge, joint hug before proceeding to relate their day in detail.
Pony-coloring detail.
The rest of the afternoon was pretty much a blur for the Vulcan as he desperately tried to overcome his embarrassment. But he did remember the kids asking their dad if Spock could ever babysit them again, and the happiness the Ambassador expressed over the whole matter.
However, being in a blur essentially meant that the most important detail of the day was forgotten. But not for long.
When he found the images of the pony coloring page - complete with his flawless signature - circulating around the ship, he remembered very quickly.
Fine!
I really hope you guys enjoyed this fic as much as I did! I had a blast writing it. Two songs made up a particularly useful "soundtrack", if you will, for this piece; I hope you guys go check them out, 'cause they're awesome. One is Mr. Mom by Lonestar (hilarious), and the other is Temporary Home by Carrie Underwood (very sad and meaningful). Yes, both are country. And both are awesome. :D
In any case, I hope that you laughed during this story, and I hope you leave me a review! It would mean so much if you did-I absolutely love reviews and they keep me going. And if anyone has ideas or suggestions for stories, please let me know! I can't promise to write anything, but I love getting advice and suggestions. But enough of my begging. I'm sure you get the picture. Thanks for reading! :)