The Follies of Youth – Chapter 1

The Earth date was June 9th, 2236. The setting was Starfleet headquarters, San Francisco, Earth. The characters: Winona, Sam, and Jim Kirk, on campus to greet the patriarch of the family when his ship made spaceport at the conclusion of its most recent mission; David and Leonard McCoy, on campus to attend a medical seminar in keeping with the continuing education requirements of David McCoy's medical license; and Amanda, Sybok, and Spock, accompanying Sarek to a routine conference of Federation diplomats.

Winona only asked Sam, age six, to keep an eye on his three-year-old brother for five minutes while she stepped out to find them some dinner.

Sybok, as a responsible twelve-year-old Vulcan, was permitted to give Spock, age six, a tour of headquarters on their own while their mother was engaged in arranging the week's event schedule.

Leonard, nine years old and excruciatingly bored, snuck out of the seminar while no one was looking.

When Sam looked up from his vid game, his little brother's blond head was just vanishing through the supposedly locked door of their guest rooms, gleeful giggles trailing after him. Face heating in frustrated alarm, Sam took off after the renegade, who had unfortunately inherited their father's quick feet, and nearly caught him when the small boy turned the corner at the end of the corridor which opened into the main lobby.

In another universe, Winona glanced up from collecting her supper order just in time to see the boys enter the room, and a quick shout resulted in embarrassment for the woman, but safe collection and return to their quarters for her sons.

In this universe, however, that mysterious spark of intuition that tells mothers when their children are getting themselves into trouble prompted only a soft sigh, and Winona picked up her purchases and turned the other way, intent on finishing her task and returning to the room as quickly as possible.

In that brief second, several things happened in very quick succession. First, Jim Kirk ducked around someone's legs and vanished into the sea of beings and Sam's grasping hand closed on air. But Jim's headlong dash brought him face-first into an extremely hard leg and landed him on his rear, staring up… and up… and up at an enormous insectoid alien that vaguely resembled an eight-foot-tall praying mantis, who was currently throwing very sharp forelimbs in the air and clicking its mandibles at the tiny fleshling who had so rudely intercepted it. The boy in question scrambled to his feet with a terrified yelp and bolted for the nearest corridor – not the one he had just exited.

Calling frantically, Sam searched the crowd for his brother for several minutes, finally giving up and making his way back to their quarters to find their mother.

Meanwhile, Jim's new headlong dash had carried him into the wide and currently almost deserted hall dedicated to Starfleet's museum. His tear-blurred, panicked eyes found a small figure standing near a display case, and Jim blindly barreled towards what he thought was his brother, only to trip at the last second and go flying, landing a startled Vulcan on his rear with an armful of sobbing human child.

"Help me! He's gonna eat me!" Jim wailed, clinging to the larger boy, who glanced up at his own brother, standing nearby, in helpless alarm.

Sybok merely raised his eyebrows, stating as clearly as was possible with just a look that the pink creature had attacked Spock, not himself, and therefore was Spock's problem to figure out. Under his careful supervision, of course.

"…No one appears to be attempting to… eat you." Spock offered tentatively.

Jim's head shot up at the unfamiliar voice, and for a long moment he simply gaped at decidedly-not-his-brother, too shocked to even release his fistfuls of the young Vulcan's shirt.

When seconds passed and the blond child still remained frozen, Spock carefully gripped the boy's sleeved wrist and began prying his shirt from the tiny fingers, trying again for a verbal response: "I am S'chn T'gai Spock. What is your name, and where are your parents?"

The added stimulus helped to reboot Jim's brain, and he released Spock's shirt in favorer of wiping fruitlessly at the blood leaking from his nose. Spock noted with perturbation that the bleeding, sniffling, teary little human showed no sign of removing himself from Spock's lap.

"'m Jim," the child answered through another sniffle, and Spock was about to repeat his second question when a shout drew their attention. A forth boy, a dark-haired human a couple years older than Spock, was skidding towards them, overflowing with righteous fury.

"Hey! What are you doing to him?!"

The intruder was stopped just short of Spock and Jim by the firm hand of Sybok, which caught hold of the back of the boy's shirt as he passed.

"I assure you," Sybok said calmly as the boy whirled to face him, "Spock did not cause Jim's current state. We - what is your term? - we found him like this."

The fight drained out of the boy almost immediately, and he flushed. "Sorry. I thought…"

Sybok's eyebrows lifted imperiously. "My brother and I are Vulcan, Mister…?"

"McCoy. Leonard McCoy," the boy provided, going redder still.

"McCoy," Sybok nodded politely, continuing, "Our species condemns violence in any form."

"Right. Sorry," Leonard said again, then glanced back at the little boy, who was watching the exchange with wide eyes, having shrunk back slightly against Spock's chest. "What happened to him, then?" he asked, approaching the grounded children far more calmly, now, and dropping to a knee beside them to peer at Jim's bloody face.

"I do not know," Spock answered, pushing gently and unsuccessfully against the creature so obliviously invading his space. "He ran in from the lobby, claiming that something was attempting to 'eat him'."

At this Jim's head popped back up. "He was!" he exclaimed earnestly. "It was a great, big, huge, monster!" Jim told them, wiggling around to kneel – to Spock's consternation and wince of pain – on Spock's legs, waving his arms in the air to punctuate his story. "With these huge sharp claws, and mouth," he continued, making a chomping motion with his hands, complete with sound effects, "an' when I ran into him he almost stabbed me and ate me!"

Spock just blinked, confounded by the excessively dramatic tale, but Leonard laughed.

"Sounds like you hit the wrong end of a Harvite, kid! Bash your nose on his exoskeleton?"

Jim nodded miserably, rubbing again at the offended extremity.

"Stop that," Leonard ordered, pulling a piece of cloth from his pocket and squirting something on it from a small bottle, "you'll only make it worse. Here; come here."

To Spock's immense relief, Jim obediently scrambled off his lap and over to the older boy, who cleaned Jim's face with the cloth, then covered the tiny nose with it.

"Blow."

Jim obeyed, and Leonard removed the cloth, pinching Jim's nose to stop it from bleeding again. Spock and Sybok exchanged a glance, curious at the efficient motions performed with an ease born of experience, as well as at the patience of both young healer and tiny patient.

"Who are you guys, then?" Leonard asked while he held the unprotesting little boy still.

"Sybok and Spock, sons of Sarek," Sybok introduced.

Leonard grinned. "Some names," he commented mildly. Releasing Jim's nose, he prompted, "And you?"

"I'm Dim Kirk," the blond said, then made a face, sniffing hard and wiggling his nose to try to unplug it.

Leonard howled with laughter, and tiny fists punched ineffectively at his arm in frustrated anger.

"You're mean! I don't like you!" Jim declared furiously, pushing himself away from Leonard's flapping hands and running to wrap himself around the now-standing Spock's waist, who jerked his arms out of the way with an involuntary squeak.

Sybok's mouth twitched. "It would seem the human child has developed a preference towards you, sa-kai."

"Oh, sure," Leonard grumbled, though he was still laughing, "I patch you up, but a Vulcan's your knight-in-shining-armor?!"

Spock, face tight with discomfort, gently pried Jim's arms from around his middle. "Jim," he requested with forced patience, "I entreat you to release me."

The little boy blinked up at him blankly, and Spock barely inhibited a groan.

"Vulcans do not… touch… like that," he explained as calmly as possible. "It is… quite uncomfortable."

Jim's eyes widened comically in understanding and he let go of Spock immediately, tucking his hands safely behind his back. "Sorry, Spock! I hurt you?"

The childish, but genuine concern brought Spock up short, and he half-smiled before he could stop himself. The repeated and abrupt intrusions of physical/mental contact had been exceedingly disquieting, but he formulated an acceptable truth. "No, I am not injured."

Jim grinned in relief and sidled a bit closer, though he was careful to not actually touch the older boy. "What's Vulcans?"

"…Vulcan is my home planet, and the name of my species."

Blond head cocked as the young brain inside it puzzled through that answer. "Oh! Is that why your ears are different and stuff? Mommy an' Daddy talks about you guys sometimes. I'm a human, from Earth! What's Vulcan like? Do you have to go to school on Vulcan? Sammy goes to school an' he doesn't like it but he says ev'ybody has to for reading an' maths an' stuff an' I have to next year but I already does reading an' maths so I don't want to go 'cause I'll be bored an' Mommy says I get into too much trouble when I'm bored."

When Jim paused for breath, Spock carefully picked through the onslaught, finally deciding on, "Vulcan children begin taking short classes at the age of three. You are quite young to be reading and doing arithmetic, Jim. Do you have a tutor?"

Jim stared at him blankly.

"Who taught you maths and reading?" Spock rephrased.

Jim grinned. "Mommy and Sammy help me sometimes, but I got a PADD for my birthday so I can play learning games!" He dug a hand into the pocket of his baggy pants, and extracted the device in question, built in miniature for a child's fingers. Flicking it on and pulling up his favorite arithmetic game with the speed of a professional, the little boy then proudly thrust the PADD at the young Vulcan. Spock accepted it cautiously, peering down at the game.

"We have nothing like this on Vulcan."

"Really? Man…" Jim moaned in commiseration. "Well go on, then, try it!" He plopped down against the wall, patting the floor beside him and gazing expectantly up at Spock.

Brows crumpled uncertainly, Spock gingerly lowered himself to sit cross-legged beside the younger boy, who giggled, scrunching up his face in dramatic imitation.

"Mommy says if you make faces your face'll get stuck like that," Jim told Spock, still giggling, "but yours is cute."

One of Spock's eyebrows made immediate acquaintance with his dark bangs. "Cute?"

"Yeah! Like puppies!"

The other eyebrow joined its fellow. "…Puppies."

This apparently necessitated a just-as-dramatic eye roll. "Spo-ock," Jim whined, "just play the game already!"

The small Vulcan diverted his skepticism from the illogical tow-head beside him to the quasi-logical "learning game" in his hands, and obediently pressed the start button.

Meanwhile, Leonard had risen and dusted his knees off, turning to the eldest of the group – unspoken leader – for instruction. "Shouldn't someone try to find his parents?"

"No," Sybok answered, with a small shake of his head. "When one is lost, it is far more logical to stay in one place, because it allows search parties to most efficiently canvass any given area. Also," he added, raising an eyebrow slyly, "our mother will be arriving shortly to collect Spock and myself. She has direct access to the officials of the compound and will be able to have an alert sent out on the general intercom."

Leonard's eyebrows shot up, impressed, and he nodded. "Sounds good to me."

Sybok tilted his head quizzically. "Will there not be people searching for you as well, Leonard McCoy?"

"Nah," Leonard snorted, "Dad'll be in that seminar for hours yet. Probably won't notice I'm missing till he goes back to the room. And dude, just call me Len. The whole mouthful takes too much effort. Besides, Leonard's a stupid name; all old and stuffy."

Sybok's brows drew together in a slight frown. "Very well… Len."

"Len" grinned, glancing over at the two smaller boys huddled against the wall, raven head and golden almost touching where they bent over the PADD. "Looks like your little brother's got himself a friend."

Sybok's frown deepened. "Vulcans do not have friends."

Len turned back to stare at the older boy incredulously. "What? Why?!"

"The forming of friendships would presuppose the ability to form emotional attachments," Sybok explained matter-of-factly. "Vulcans do not possess such an ability, because we do not experience emotions."

"Bullshit!"

Sybok flinched involuntarily at the vehemence of his companion's reaction.

"Every sentient species experiences emotions in some fashion, Sybok," Len maintained almost angrily, gesticulating broadly. "It's a scientifically proven fact! And to deny the existenceof emotion is one of the most dangerous and detrimental acts known to medical science!"

Sybok shook his head. "You misunderstand me, Len," he said, "Vulcans do not deny the existence of emotion, only the experience. We choose to devote ourselves to the path of self-mastery through pure logic, unencumbered by the turmoil and conflict that unfailingly follows emotional expression."

Len grunted. "Well that's all flowery and nice and all, but it still doesn't sound very healthy."

"Neither is war, or crime," Sybok pointed out, "both of which Vulcan, unlike any emotionally-expressive world, has eliminated."

"There hasn't been a war on Earth in over a century," Len reminded him. "For a supposedly illogical and irrational race, we don't seem to be doing too bad. Besides, if you get rid of emotion, that means you never actually get to experience that peace you're so proud of, because peace is an emotional state of being. Or love, or joy, or any of the other good ones. Plus, any basic psychology book will tell you that repression, suppression, or denial of anything is actually a symptom of fear. Which, by the way, is an emotion. Which, by the way, are really just responses to stimuli, just like blinking when your eyes are dry or pulling your hand away from something hot, only on the psychosomatic level instead of just the physical. Completely natural! So I really don't get what all the hype is about."

Sybok blinked. That… was quite the diatribe, and delivered with a logic and intelligence far beyond what Sybok had witnessed from any other human, let alone one so young.

After a few seconds, all he was able to offer was an incredulous, "How old are you?"

Len grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, I get that a lot… Comes from being a doctor's kid, I guess. You sorta gotta learn or die. Sorry."

Sybok's brows scrunched, and he turned thoughtfully to examine Spock and Jim, still engrossed in their PADD. His brother seemed to be explaining something, pointing at the screen, and the tiny blond was following his finger with a look of extreme concentration. Spock looked more at ease than his brother had ever seen him, utterly relaxed in the presence of this small human, and when said human glanced up, smiling, whatever it was he said made Spock's chocolate eyes light up, like their mother's did on the rare occasions that the whole family was at home and all was well with the world.

"…What… is it like? Having friends?" Sybok asked finally.

Len had been standing silently at his shoulder, watching the little boys himself, and his gaze didn't leave them when he replied. "Wouldn't know," he said with a matter-of-fact shrug. "You're the first person who hasn't laughed at me, tried to hit me, or just wandered off when I started in like that. I'd like to try it someday, though."

Sybok watched this strange, intense human cautiously out of the corner of his eye. "It… would be a… fascinating experiment," he ventured.

Len looked over at him then, and his piercing blue eyes seemed to be scrutinizing his very soul. Whatever the test was, Sybok must have passed it, because Len grinned so broadly that it banished the bitterness from his eyes until, for the first time, the boy actually looked his age. "I guess I wouldn't mind being a guinea pig, just this once."

Sybok's brows crinkled. "Guinea pig? What is –"

"Oh, never mind," Len laughed. "C'mon, let's see what they're up to." He strode across to their younger counterparts and slid down beside Spock with a cheerful, "Mind if we join you?" and Sybok, shrugging with only his eyebrows, followed suit on the other side of Jim. They were quickly enveloped in the younger boys' conversation, apparently a lesson on beginner's arithmetic, Vulcan style, intermixed with a bit of the Vulcan alphabet, portions of which Jim's tiny fingers were determinedly attempting to trace out on the PADD.

This was the scene which greeted Amanda precisely twenty six point three minutes later, and before the boys noticed her she paused to appreciate it, eyes shining at the sight of her little one completely comfortable – almost smiling – for the very first time in his life.

Once introductions had been made ("But she's a human," Len whispered to Sybok, who nodded calmly and explained, "Yes. Amanda is my stepmother and Spock's biological mother. My biological mother and our mutual father are both Vulcan.") and the situation had been explained ("A Harvite tried to eat him, Miz Amanda!" was Len's grinning contribution), Amanda quickly tracked down the panicking Winona Kirk, returned her son, and insisted on accompanying them back to their quarters, where she bustled about in the small kitchen while Sybok and Len met Sam, and Winona alternately scolded and smothered Jim.

With the whistle of a kettle, Amanda swooped in to rescue the boy, pressing a steaming mug of tea into Winona's trembling hands instead and perching herself on the sofa to wrap the younger woman in a one-armed hug, speaking reassurances to her while Jim scrambled away to join his brother and newfound friends.

The two women bemoaned together the misadventures of motherhood until the teakettle was emptied and both were laughing freely. Meanwhile, Len and Sybok had retreated to another corner of the room and were deep in discussion across an old-fashioned puzzle they had found. Sam, having (at Spock's encouragement) been sincerely apologized to by his brother, had joined the two younger boys in their continued exploration of the PADD, but after several minutes, not at all interested in the learning exercises and feeling rather like a third wheel, he wandered off to play his own games.

This, in turn, was the scene which greeted Sarek when his meeting finished and he came to collect his family. Introductions, once again, were had all around ("Your dad's scary, Spock," was the serious undertone from a wide-eyed Jim), followed by explanations, and finally goodbyes.

When Len admitted that he should hurry back to his quarters to meet his father, Jim jumped up and ran to give the older boy a tight hug, planting his face squarely in Len's stomach.

"Thanks for fixing my nose, Len," Jim beamed up at him.

"No problem, kid," Len laughed, ruffling the boy's already-tousled gold hair, "just stay out of the way of any more Harvites!"

Jim nodded fervently and bounced back to Spock, while Sybok stepped up to take his place.

"How long will you be on campus, Len?" the Vulcan asked. "I would appreciate the opportunity to continue our discussion."

"Today was the last segment of the seminar," Len admitted with a grimace. "We leave first thing tomorrow. Maybe… maybe we could meet up for breakfast, though? I know I could talk Dad into it."

Amanda, overhearing, declared it was a wonderful idea, and "how about that nice little café just off the lobby, Winona? Oh, do come!"

Winona, for her part, smiled shyly. "Is seven thirty okay? George's ship is due in at ten and we want to be sure to get over there in time…"

Amanda glanced at Sarek, who raised a longsuffering eyebrow, but nodded, much to the delight of all. Jim, in fact, only barely refrained from grabbing Spock in another hug, and settled for tugging on the Vulcan's sleeve, practically vibrating with excitement and literally bouncing on his toes.

"Spock!" he exclaimed happily, "Maybe you can come with us and meet my dad!"

The muscles of Spock's face lifted into an almost-smile. "Perhaps, Jim."

At Spock's gentle tone, the little boy visibly composed himself, calming enough to simply grin silently.

Winona raised impressed eyebrows and exchanged a smile with Amanda. "I think your son is going to be very good for mine," she commented softly.

"Likewise," Amanda returned, beaming. She enveloped the younger woman in a brief, sisterly embrace, gestured for her sons, and followed Sarek to the door. "Seven thirty, the café off the lobby. I'm looking forward to it!"

"Likewise," was Winona's smiling retort, one hand on a bouncing three-year-old's head as he waved goodbye at the retreating Vulcan family.

"See ya 'morrow, Spock!"