Lessons - Honesty

Summer… Belaar... Falek-wak… she glanced at the thermometer in the shaded area of the porch, under the pergola: 66 Celsius. It was only midday, and she knew the temperatures would be climbing through the afternoon. Amanda wondered why they didn't just call it 'Damned Hot', but then remembered that would be illogical.

They're Vulcans. They live for this shit.

She wiped her wrist across her brow and went in search of her son, following the sound of conversation with I-Chaya. She peeked around the corner and watched him talk the sehlat through the latest book he was reading. Ever patient, the shaggy I-Chaya sniffed it, and then rolled over onto Spock playfully.

"Rai, 'Chaya," he grunted, struggling out from underneath the animal, only to be answered with a playful snort.

"Spock'am," she whispered, wondering exactly how many different ways he could get dirty. Yeah, he was a little boy, but seriously. This was the third outfit today.

"A'maih! I-Chaya has soiled - "he stopped midsentence, remembering her instruction to refrain from serving as the family's news reporter.

Spock's appreciation for informing her, or any adult for that matter, of the goings on around him had gotten him into trouble, particularly with T'Pau. He was always in trouble with T'Pau. It didn't matter that he was four.

Amanda secretly wondered if T'Pau had ever been four, and decided she had not. She had always been crotchety, judgmental, and likely constipated most of the time. What else accounted for that sour expression? Resisting the urge to laugh at that thought, she encouraged him to continue. She saw his clothes now were now covered in sehlat hair and dirt. Again. "Sa-fu?"

He looked up at her with those deep brown eyes, and she saw the conflict he was thinking through. He was to be ready for the family to visit with Sarek's parents, and they were leaving in 7 minutes. He would require at least a change of clothes, and likely a skip through the sonic shower. She already was deciding what he would wear instead. She knelt in front of him, trying to salvage the outfit, albeit unsuccessfully.

Sarek walked through the family home, looking for his wife and child. They needed to depart immediately if they were to negotiate traffic and arrive at his parent's home on time… and on time meant two minutes early with his mother. He heard them talking together and stepped onto the porch, listening.

"What has happened to your clothes, Spock?"

"I have dirtied them," he answered, not willing to rat out his fluffy friend.

"You did this?" she asked, picking hairs off his tunic. "I'm confused, sa-fu, as you are not so hairy, and your hygiene is much more satisfactory," she smiled.

"I must temper my words, 'Maih," he responded, parroting T'Pau's latest criticisms.

"True, as we all must. Perhaps we should temper our words with honesty." She cringed, remembering the Matriarch's latest chastisement of him.

Sarek listened as she guided their son to a greater understanding of the situation.

"Spock, brevity is important. Honesty, more so. I ask you again – how did your clothing become soiled, my son?"

"I was reading to I-Chaya, and he rolled over on me. I did not intend it, but it happened."

"You are a loyal companion. How can this be prevented in the future?"

"I will not engage him when we are preparing to depart," Deep Brown sought her approval.

"Come, let's get you cleaned up."

Sarek went to the comm-unit and entered his parent's code and waited. His father answered.

"Sa-fu."

"Father, we shall be delayed in our arrival."

"Causation?"

"Spock is mastering instruction at this time. I estimate our arrival to be 23 minutes late."

"Understood. Sarek, ensure his mastery. He is fully capable of heeding your instruction."

"Indeed, however this instruction is not mine. I seek forgiveness for our delay."

"There is no offense, my son. T'Pau's expectations task even the most refined of our kind. We await your arrival."

Sarek went to Spock's bedroom to observe as she managed 'The Cleansing' as she would commonly call it, eradicating any sign of impish four-year-oldness. She was ever confident she would discover a little boy under the mess.

"I'm sorry, Sarek, nearly ready. I hope your mother will understand."

"I have spoken with my father. They understand that mastery of instruction often supercedes a previously arranged meeting."

Standing in his underwear, Amanda gently pulled a clean tunic over his head and handed him clean trousers. "Put these on, quickly now. O'samekh'al and O'komekh-il must not be required to wait any longer," she paused to settle a twisty bit of fabric along his collar, straightening it. "Spock – I thank you for your honesty. Socks and shoes now..."

Sarek knelt to help Spock secure his shoes. He looked thoughtfully into his son's eyes. The culmination of an unexpected bonding, a representation of two vastly different worlds, and the most treasured gift Amanda had ever given him.

"Sa-fu, trau kashek torvau trau torai," he paused as Deep Brown listened. "An honest mind produces honest action. Your improvement is acceptable. Continue to think on that which encourages honesty and brevity, for no one can find fault in such character."