"Amanda Grayson," Spock said to the guard standing at gate of the storage center. The guard looked at him sceptically, as if he was sure Spock's name wasn't 'Amanda Grayson.'
"My late mother," Spock explained, "I have the code and you can check her will on the computer."
"That's okay," the guard said, looking surprised, but letting him in.
Yes, my father did enjoy sleeping with humans, Spock thought at the guard angrily and then suppressed the thought.
He really did need to meditate.
For the past five days, he had been on vacation with Nyota. She had found a nice, out- of-the-way resort in the Dominican that had almost no human customers. It had been ideal, everyone seemed so used to other cultures that no one found it odd that he refused to drink alcohol, swam fully clothed or sat demurely and watched while Nyota danced the limbo.
Only one incident had bothered him. He was sitting on the beach and had indulgently put one arm around Nyota's waist when a Vulcan father with two children had walked by. He was in the midst of explaining how the moon's gravity affected the tide when he saw Spock and quickly hurried his children away.
Nyota had given him a sorry expression, to which he had only replied,
"I am used to it."
But much to his surprise, the man had approached him later in the lobby.
"I did not intend any offense," the man apologized, "But you must understand that children do what they see."
Spock was still offended and replied,
"I understand completely. You see, I am only half Vulcan."
Nyota had tittered slightly when he said this, and the man had ignored her. Spock then realized that this all was rather rich from a man who had taken his children for a beach vacation and whose daughter had been wearing long hair and a short dress.
The man seemed to read his mind.
"It has become much worse on the new home world," he said, "The council, they are telling us who to marry, how many children to have, what jobs to take. Raising my children in a different culture is difficult, but I want them to be free."
"My father is on the council," Spock spat defensively.
The man's eyes opened up, as if he suddenly realized who he was talking to.
"You are Sarek's son," he said, "Sometimes I think that Sarek is the only man who has the experience to realize what happens when people turn their back on their values in a crisis. Of course, he is in the minority."
Spock had talked to his father about his views on Vulcan policy, but he had clearly overestimated his support.
"I apologize," the man said again, "My children want to dress like their friends, act like their friends, go on spring break vacation like their friends, and I know I must allow it. They are at the top of their classes and the teachers admire their discipline, but by Vulcan standards, their education is substandard and they are extremely undisciplined. They will not be able to adapt if we return. When I saw you two, I realized that there is no other possibility for their future. I meant no ill."
This time, Spock believed him. And he knew that even being half human, he saw and did things he didn't like on a daily basis. He had more sympathy for the man than he would admit in front of Nyota.
"Live long and prosper," he said, walking off.
"I must contact my father," Spock said on the elevator, "The Federation cannot be aware that the situation is this bad."
"It's just one guy," she replied, "He could have a beef."
"I am inclined to believe him," Spock stated. Besides the Vulcan taboo against lying, there was something about the man's tone that made him seem credible.
"But it can wait a few days, can't it?" Nyota said sounding a bit worried. She had been looking forward to the vacation for several months.
There was logic to that statement.
"I will need to meditate," he said when he returned to their room, "I must admit that I found that conversation ... disturbing."
Nyota looked at him sadly, and for twenty minutes, she was quiet, but then she started moving about the room and accidentally-on-purpose making noise. She wanted his attention.
"That is enough of that," he said once he realized that further attempts would be futile, and got up and grabbed her by the waist. Lacking the self-control meditation brought, he was a little too rough. But she screamed gleefully.
*****
"Where do you think you are going?" he had snapped, awaking in the final day to find her out of bed, looking in the mirror.
"I'm getting dressed," she'd replied, " We need to check out soon."
"That is not for several hours," he'd said, motioning her back into bed.
"You've become so demanding," she'd teased with a seductive look on her face that he knew shouldn't work anymore, but somehow did.
"Somebody ..." he mock-accused, "Has been preventing me from..."
Then he'd kissed her, not being able to put it off any longer.
It was the bell-hop that had brought him to his senses. When he had dropped his bags, Spock had nearly snapped at him. Bell-hops sometimes drop bags, he'd told himself over and over, but it hadn't quelled the rage that he wouldn't normally have felt. It was then that he realized how selfish he was being. He could have easily snapped at someone. Nyota had been playing games with him, but he had let her.
A lot of what he supressed were good feelings.
"I need to really meditate before we see your parents," he had told her, and she had found this amusing. She'd left him alone for two whole hours.
****
The relief was fleeting. Much like the last time, he was the elephant in the room. Nyota's parents had never said a hostile word to him, but they weren't friendly either. This annoyed Spock more than outright hostility. When people said something, he at least could make himself feel better by getting off a few clever remarks, or watching their exasperation as his failure to react.
Only the sister had changed. While it had been just a year, she looked much different. She had started wearing makeup and had dyed her hair a horrible shade of blond. Now, whenever she looked at Spock, she wore an expression of curiosity.
Still, by the evening, Spock had had enough. He told Nyota that he needed to get his mother's things and make some visits. He didn't know when they might be back on Earth again. She laughed, and told him not to worry, she needed to have long chat with her sister.
"About what?" Spock inquired.
"A large number of subjects," she replied.
"Such as?" he pushed.
"Hair," she spat, waving him off.
Spock took a public transporter to San Francisco, where it was still mid-day, and then walked to the storage center.
After passing the guard, he opened up his mother's locker and rifled through.
Most of what was in there was not worth taking, books on human education, clothes she could only wear on Earth. Then Spock found a framed picture of his mother and himself as a child. Kirk would approve, Spock thought, he had been suggesting that Spock put some pictures at his desk in the lab to make him seem more approachable. He put it in his bag.
After a bit more sorting, he found what he was looking for: his mother's old jewellery box. Ignoring some of the more valuable human pieces, he pulled out a ring and a broach. They were made out of what humans called "Vulcan moonstone," although it really didn't come from a moon at all. It was not a valuable substance, mostly used to make costume jewelery, but now it was one of the few remain pieces of the Vulcan soil. Spock ran his hands across the pieces before putting them in his pocket.
"Are you closing down the locker?" the guard asked as Spock walked out.
"No," he responded, "My father might come by and get some things."
But Spock thought he had taken everything irreplaceable.
Still feeling irritated, Spock walked towards a famous IDIC temple that was nearby. When he got to the door, he was greeted by a human in Vulcan robes.
"You look like you've had a rough day," the human said.
Resisting his urge to throttle him, Spock walked right by and into the sanctuary.
A/N: This story is a continuation of "The Lost Boys", but you shouldn't need to have read it to follow this story. It's going to be a bit more political and S/U focused though