Title: Learning Diplomacy
Series: Insontis
Rating: G
Characters: (this bit) Kirk, bb!Spock,
Word Count: (this bit) 1328
Warnings: Crack. Quite ghastly amounts of fluff. Written by me. Utter lack of plot. It's not meant to be real fic, it's not even meant to necessarily be IC, since one of the protagonists literally is not in character.
Summary: Starfleet Command and the Federation have become interested in the Insonti technology which transformed their most prominent starship captain into an infant some weeks previous. The Enterprise has been handed the assignment of performing further research into the device, while developing a deeper rapport with this as-yet non-Federation planet, in the hopes of producing an allegiance between the Insonti people and the Federation.
This Bit Summary: Spock learns the human approach to blackmail diplomacy, and totally denies his love of furry animals.

Chronological Order of This 'Verse:

When I Was a Child
Impeccable Aim
Lesson One
A Matter of Genetics
Taking Sides
Fangirls
Out of the Mouth of Babes
A Two-Way Trust
Lesson Two
Unleashed
Family Interlude
Artistic License
Blackmail Potential
Captain Sunshine
Sunshine and Darkness
Ducks in Space
Smart is Sexy
Lesson Four
Never Too Young
The Sincerest Form of Flattery
Lesson Five
Persuasive Arguments
A Decided Lack of Amusement (1/4) (2/4) (3/4) (4/4)
Catch a Falling Star
An Infernal Device
Lesson Six (and Seven, really) (1/4) (2/4) (3/4) (4/4)
The Second Time Around
Lessons Eight and Nine
Lessons Ten and Eleven (1/2) (2/2)
Outside the Box
Comprehension (1/4) (2/4) (Interlude) (3/4) (4/4)
And So It Begins
Fear Is Only Embarrassing in Public
Never Tease a Vulcan
Best Destiny (1/4) (2/4) (3/4) (4/4)
Parting Ways (1/6) (2/6) (3/6) (4/6) (5/6) (6/6)
The Wounds of a Friend (1/4) (2/4) (3/4) (4/4)
Lessons Learned

A Child of Two Worlds
First Impressions
Instincts
Lesson One, of sorts
Communication
Lesson Two
Lesson Three
Learning Diplomacy


The upside to having a tiny Vulcan shadowing you everywhere, was that no one could really do anything but smile at you, because who can stay angry in the face of pointy-eared cuteness? The downside to this, however, was that anyone and everyone who was not hurrying to a destination simply had to stop and talk to them, which meant the trek from his quarters to Mess to Engineering (Spock had been promised a tour of the engine rooms by an enthusiastic Montgomery Scott) took four times as long as it should have.

"I do not comprehend the human female's fascination with me," was Spock's dismal comment after a yeoman walked away from them, cooing to a friend about how adorable their de-aged First Officer was.

Kirk made a mental note to make sure the crew understood that once the process was reversed, Spock was to be treated with all the respect his rank and status deserved. They'd managed to stop treating him like a child once he was no longer one, but there was something about seeing their stoic First in this condition that he suspected might have lasting consequences if he didn't nip that in the bud once Spock returned to his true age.

Now, however, he grinned down at the disconsolate little face upturned toward his own, and firmly resisted the parental urge to take the tiny hand that occasionally grasped at his pant leg for stabilization as crewmen rushed past.

"It's a human thing, Spock, just trust me on that," he replied, nodding in response to a crewman who did a double take and then hastily saluted them as he scooted past in the corridor. "There is something within human nature that reacts in this manner to small things; whether they be animal or human or otherwise. You know how much you like tribbles; extrapolate that reaction exponentially into an adult human's view of anything smaller or younger than we are accustomed to seeing."

Spock's blinked as the scientific process filtered through, and then gave a small but lofty sniff of disdain. "I do not like tribbles."

The captain carefully hid another smile. "Sure you don't."

"Vulcans do not like anything, Captain-Jim," the child said solemnly, eyes wide with earnestness.

"I know for a fact, Spock-kam, that you like my mom's butternut squash soup, because that was the first time I've ever seen you eat seconds, much less thirds," Kirk replied, this time not bothering to hide his grin at the memory of a shore leave long ago. "Surely it is logical to have preferences? To not have them would detract from the principles which are the foundational concepts of IDIC, wouldn't it?"

Spock's dark eyes narrowed sharply. "Your logic is…skewed, sir."

The statement coming from a very tiny, very serious six-year-old nearly made him laugh, which would have totally obliterated his credibility to raise this unusual little being. He made certain to look properly offended rather than amused. "Specify."

The child eyebrow-frowned, looking slightly miffed. "I cannot," he declared reluctantly. "But I do not like things, Captain-Jim." The petulance and lack of vocabulary only made the vehement denial more adorable, and Kirk looked down and gave a solemn nod.

"My apologies, of course, Spock."

"Apology accepted," the child replied immediately, the frown disappearing and melting into a look of such contentment that it made Kirk's heart clench.

How many times had this little Vulcan been accused of humanity, and never had an effort been made to assure him it was both acceptable and indeed natural to be so if he chose? The captain had seen more than once, how in the company of Vulcans Spock was even more Vulcan than full-blooded of that species; even full Vulcans permitted themselves certain indulgences which Spock shunned, no doubt out of desire to prove his own Vulcanity. How many times had Spock been made fun of for a humanistic character trait, only to then lock that portion of himself away as unacceptable? In his efforts to be pure Vulcan, he had alienated humans; and that alienation did nothing to increase his acceptance among his own people. It was the ultimate no-win situation, and the captain of the Enterprise thanked every deity in the quadrant once again, that he had been so fortunate as to be gifted this remarkable being as his second-in-command, and that Kirk had somehow, by some kindness of Fate or Destiny, known how to break through that impenetrable wall around Spock's heart and soul.

He wondered with sad fondness, how much easier Spock's childhood might have been, had he been given one person who was willing to look past the protests and the cold vocabulary, to really see the struggling meld of humanity and Vulcanity crying out underneath.

"Captain-Jim?" A small tug at his pants-leg brought him back to himself, and he saw that they had entered the turbo-lift, that the doors had shut behind them.

Spock was too short to reach the command-handle, and was looking up at him with barely-concealed impatience.

He probably should have thought before acting, but then again he was used to having nephews; it was an instinct ingrained by this point.

"All right, up we go," he said cheerfully, and hefted the surprised child up under the arms so Spock could reach the handle.

Spock's eyes were wide with shock, but after an initial squirm of discontent he relaxed, grasped the control handle with both little hands and enunciated clearly, "Engineering Deck."

The lift started with a lurch, and the captain saw the tiny eyebrows lift in what he knew was an expression of satisfaction, the closest to a smile he was likely to get from this little Vulcan. However, once the lift began to slow, pinging in warning as they approached the Engineering deck, he set Spock back on the floor and then crouched in front of his former First Officer.

"I should have asked before picking you up, Spock. I apologize for invading your privacy," he said seriously. "I should know better than to do that to a touch-telepath, and I'm sorry."

Hands clasped behind his back, Spock looked down at his boots, and scuffed one absently on the polished durasteel. Then, "I have no objections to your physical contact, Captain-Jim," the child said softly, chancing a shy glance up through his thick bangs.

Sheesh, the kid could literally blow up the ship and be forgiven for it, with those eyes.

"Well, then. You won't mind if I do…this?" he asked with a grin, eyes gleaming in mischief as his fingers crept stealthily up in a quick tickle attack.

Spock nearly doubled over, hands immediately clutching at his fingers in surprise – and to Kirk's utter shock the child giggled. Just briefly, just for one second, but the sound was unmistakeable. As was the sudden horror which crossed the tiny face at Spock's realization of what he'd done.

The lift doors pinged behind them.

Spock looked highly distraught. "Captain, I –"

Kirk smiled, laying a finger gently against the quivering lips. Spock stilled immediately, eyes wide.

"I think we're entitled to break the rules once in a while, don't you?" the captain said in a loud whisper, with a meaningful look over his shoulder.

Spock's eyes went from huge to enormous. "Sir?"

"Wellllll," Kirk said in a dramatically pondering tone, "I won't tell anyone you let your half-human side out for a little bit…and you don't tell Bones I ate that piece of cake with my lunch. How does that strike you as a…diplomatic negotiation, Spock?"

The child drew himself up as tall as he could, which was hilariously not very much. "I believe such an agreement is most logical for both parties involved," he replied solemnly.

Kirk gravely nodded and then exited the turbolift, followed closely by a serene Vulcan six-year-old.

That's my little ambassador, he thought, with a wicked grin at how horrified Sarek would be to learn of his method of teaching diplomacy.