Hi everyone, this is my first Trek Fic and I'm super-excited!

It's AU where Spock and Amanda take a year-long vacation to Earth, and take up residence in Riverside, Iowa (and we all know who else lives there!) It's meant to just be sort of fun and interesting, and I think I'll get to some more logic versus emotion a little later down the line. Because we all love that stuff.

Please enjoy!

Once Upon a Farmhouse.

Amanda had insisted time and time again that Spock call Earth by its proper name, instead of referring to it as "Sol III," which was its scientific name. "Earth isn't just another planet, darling," she had said. "It's Class M, for one thing, and it's just as much your home as Vulcan is." Spock had raised his eyebrow at this, making his mother laugh. "Sure, your blood is as green as your father's, but we very well might have lived here permanently, if your father's job wasn't so important."

As Spock was reminded of his father, Sarek's visage appeared behind his son's eyes as they beheld the heathen blue-green orb, shrouded in white. Spock's breath fogged up the shuttle window, nose practically pressed against the reinforced glass. Sarek had not wanted his wife and son to go on a year-long vacation to Amanda's home world. "I do not understand this feeling of 'home-sickness', as you call it."

"I don't expect you too. I just need to go to Earth again for a while. I need blue sky, cool breezes, trees, a white Christmas for a change, real Earth coffee in the morning, television..."

"Do I not provide you with the things you miss from Earth, Amanda? Did I not paint the ceiling of our bedchamber white and decorate it with clouds, as you wished; did I not order a real Christmas tree from Earth every year; and do I not supply you with coffee grounds, also from Earth?"

Amanda had touched Sarek's fingers lightly with her own. "It is difficult to explain, Sarek. I love you with all my heart, and I have grown fond of my life here, hard as it has been, but there are some things that you cannot simulate, no matter how hard you try. I need to go back to Earth, for a year, at least. Is it not reasonable to ask for a respite of sorts after living in an environment hostile to me for ten Earth-years?"

"It is not unreasonable. I simply do not wish it."

"Well, if my request is reasonable, then why deny it?"

"Do not make me repeat myself, Amanda."

"It's because I want to take Spock with me, isn't it?"

Amanda shifted in her seat next to Spock on the shuttle, due to land on Earth in a matter of minutes. Spock was drawn out of his reverie. He wanted to believe his mother when she said that he would like it here, but he couldn't help his disgust as he peered tenatively at the freezing oceans and fragile little continents, covered in fragile little life forms. Blue was such an ugly color. Amanda had told her son that Earth was significantly colder than Vulcan, so Spock would have to dress warmly all year 'round. She had given him a crash-course in meteorological phenomena such as snow, hail, sleet, rain, and the like. Spock had not liked the sound of an ambient temperature colder than the freezing point of water that lasted for months on end.

Spock had also reasoned something else out on his own. If the children were unlike that on Vulcan, then maybe they would not make fun of him. Perhaps they would even welcome him into their society, complimenting his heritage instead of making jibes about it. Maybe they would like his unusual ideas and aphorisms. But then there was that phrase, "Children will be children." If that was true, then nothing would change. Humans did have unfortunately narrow minds.

"Mother?" Spock whispered.

"Yes, dear?"

"We are nearing Earth."

"Thank God," Amanda sighed. "Do you think they could have asked us to switch flights one more time?"

"There was one more possible stop on our way here, mother, so yes, they could have asked us to - " Spock looked at his mother rolling her eyes. "Oh. I understand now that you were being ironic." Amanda didn't reply. She just gave her eight-year-old son a funny look, halfway between pity and humor. "I will learn, mother. Do not worry."

"I know you will," she answered.

The shuttle's pilot came on over the intercom. "This is your captain speaking. We will reach Earth in about five minutes, and we're just about to enter the atmosphere, so everyone should put their seatbelts on, pack up their loose belongings, and put their trays up. We may encounter some heat fluctuation in the cabin and mild turbulence, but don't worry. That's normal. Again, thanks for choosing Interstellar Shuttles, and enjoy your stay on Earth."

Spock, my son, remember one thing for me while you are away. Remember that your ears and green blood are not the only things that make you different from humans. You have a choice that not many others have. Your life, nay, very existence depends on a razor's-edge decision.

Many others in this world are born into either poverty or riches, duty or freedom, care or negligence. You were born on the cusp of two worlds, and are currently living on the brink of both. Never were there two races as different as Human and Vulcan. You are the sun balanced on the horizon before it rises, and the moon on the other half of the sky just before it sets. You are extremely priveleged, my son, in that you get to choose which world you will become part of in your older years.

There is virtue in being both Vulcan and Human. Both races have their ways, their rituals, their beliefs, their customs, and their traditions. Each race is mighty in its own right. You know fully well that I am perhaps overly proud of my people, but if the Human race were not equally great, I would not have considered marrying your mother and having her bear you for me.

Perhaps the greatest difference between your mother and me is our expressions of our respective consciousnesses. I express myself through logical decisions, rationalizations, and well-thought-out mother expresses herself based on what she feels, human ideals, and mere whim.

Emotion is akin to a river; ever-flowing, changing, varying in width and depth. Sometimes rivers flood. Sometimes they freeze solid. Sometimes they dry up and die. Rivers are beautiful and essential for life, but they are ever-changing and unreliable.

Logic is akin to a dam. Without the river, there would be no need for the dam. The dam's purpose is to make sense of the river; to control it, temper it, almost tame it. Without the dam, the river would run rampant and destroy the life around it. The flowing water would make no sense. Dams can be built so different amounts of water may flow. Some dams allow more water through than others. But if a dam is built so high that it does not allow any water to run through it, then the river dies.

Your mother will no doubt try to show you that emotions are more important than logic. You have been raised in the Vulcan way, so you will naturally try to refute her statement, but I beseech you not do to so. She is your mother. You must listen to her. You must learn to see the world through her eyes.

Without emotion, there would be no logic. If logic is too rigid, emotion fails. Emotion is essential for survival. Logic is essential for survival. I pray that, in you, you might find the balance between entropy and order, fluitidy and rigidity, Human and Vulcan. You must not choose which world you belong to just yet, my son.

Remember who you are.

Ten point three four minutes later, Spock stepped into the light of Sol, Earth's sun. Its rays were cold and dull on his skin, devoid of the infrared radiation that Spock had so craved since he had left Vulcan. The wind picked up on the landing pad, whipping his tidy hair around his ears and eyes, and he shivered, pulling his hands into his sweatshirt. Disgusting blue sky. Scrubby green horizon. Incomplete sentences.

"Darling, others need to get off the shuttle," Amanda chided quietly. Spock shuffled forward onto the paved ground beneath the shuttle, lugging his suitcase behind him. His mother stepped gracefully from the craft and joined her son, dressed in shorts, a tee-shirt, and sunglasses. "Ah!" she sighed, taking a good, long breath of Earth air and exhaling smoothly. "Just what the doctor ordered."

This startled Spock. "Mother, are you ill?" he asked, not a little startled. "Which doctor have you seen? Does father know?"

Amanda gave her son that odd look again. "No, dear. It's just an Earth expression. It means that I feel like I had been ill, and am no longer." Spock raised an eyebrow. Amanda smiled giddily again. "I'm truly alright, dear! Now let's go find the car that'll bring us to Riverside."

She took Spock by the sleeve - his hands were still deep inside his sweatshirt - and strode off the landing pad to the main building of the depot. A human wearing a dark, three-piece suit was standing by the curb, a sign in his hand that said "Grayson" on it. "Here's our man, Spock."

"That is not our name, mother," Spock protested. "Why would that be our driver?"

"That's my human name, dear. Amanda Grayson." Spock took a moment to reread the English script as Amanda greeted the cab driver, showed him her identification, and handed him her luggage. He took Amanda's and Spock's suitcases and locked them in the trunk, and then opened the door for the Vulcan ambassador's wife and son. The interior of the car was even colder than it was outside.

"Sir, can you turn the air conditioner off?" Amanda asked the driver.

"Ma'am, it's ninety degrees out!"

"You must," she insisted. "My son is cold."

The driver sighed heavily and did as Amanda asked. "Can I at least open a window, ma'am?"

"No," Amanda answered. "It's only a short drive to Riverside, anyway." As much as Spock hated to be held, he did not object when his mother hoisted him onto her lap and held him there. The hovercar left the curb. "I know it's difficult, Spock. But I trust that you can make the most of your time here."

If you find any continuum hiccups, incorrect facts, or just have any gripes in general, please tell me! I'm definitely planning on writing more, because I'm super-duper inspired right now! Thanks for reading; I hope you liked it!

*Puts on psychic turban* I see a review window in your future!