Enterprise High
being a high school AU of ST: XI
with many hijinks
and much angst
x
Chapter Twenty-Five: Patterns of Force
x
Bones straightened his tie and checked his breath surreptitiously. It had been nearly two weeks since Kirk and Bones had broken up, but Bones was still thinking of things to say to Kirk. He wanted to email him about where he was, and the way it looked. He glanced warily around him, taking in the swank decorations. Bones stood outside of a Summer-era apartment in Haight-Ashbury, the unofficial residence of Barda and Ezar.
To Bones's total shock, Barda herself came to the door. She towered over him at nearly six and a half feet, seeming even larger than she was in the news. She was beautiful, with waist-length black hair done into four long braids and rich, dark skin. Her black eyes gleamed at him in welcome under her immaculate, upcurved brows. She did not seem nearly as severe as most Vulcans did, and she did not look a day over thirty.
"Mr. McCoy," she said, her voice sweet, if cool. "It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. Please, come in."
"Thanks," said Bones gruffly, shuffling inside. He had dressed as nicely as he could, in a collared shirt, slacks, and the same cobalt jacket he had worn to homecoming. But Barda, who was wearing a simple, post-modern gray silk sheath dress, outclassed him entirely, seemingly without even trying. Bones did not think he had ever seen an adult Vulcan in anything but ceremonial robes, much less an evening gown that was clearly of human design, and it flummoxed him a bit.
"Nice to meet you too," he managed after a bit, smiling weakly at her. "How is the baby doin'?"
"He is quite well," said Barda, motioning Bones down a short hallway and into a smallish, empty sitting room. "We have named him Akaar." She pronounced the name as three syllables, Ak-a-ar. "My husband is with him now and will be downstairs to meet you in a moment." She graced him with an extremely slight smile. "We are both eager to thank you for your help with the delivery of our child. Dr. Eleen, though she is an experienced surrogate, could not have known of the affects of a Romulan-Vulcan child on her body. Medical science is as yet unsure how to treat such a person, although we hope that they will soon become well-versed in the care of such ulefkan."
"Excuse me?" said Bones quickly. "Ulefkan?"
"In Vulcan, ulef means 'half' and kan means 'child.' These are what we call the children of two worlds, be they part human, Romulan, Klingon, or any other species. Our Akaar is truly a rekhukan, a 'third child,' since the blood of three species runs in his veins."
"You're right about medical science not bein' sure what to do about kids like Akaar," said Bones frankly. "I would have loved to have more information when I was tryin' to deliver him. For one, he was a breech birth, which was hard enough without his genetics comin' into play."
"Once more, we thank you for your efforts," said Barda. She perked her ears. "Ah—here is my husband now."
The door to the sitting room opened and a man as tall as Barda entered. He had a strikingly harsh face with high cheekbones and a ridged, alien forehead. His hair was longish, brushing his shoulders, and was more markedly wild than Barda's organzed braids. He too was wearing human clothing—a collared shirt and tie with slacks, all in shades of crimson and gray. Ezar, the Romulan Consul, had a broad smile on his lips.
"Leonard McCoy," he boomed, striding forwards, "it is nice to meet you." He shook Bones's right hand heartily. Bones thought he was disarmingly cheerful for a Romulan. The crook of Ezar's left arm was occupied by a mailbox-sized bundle wrapped in soft black cloth. Ezar held it out to Bones, who took it carefully, peering between the folds to catch a glimpse of a dimple-cheeked child.
"Hello, Akaar," Bones whispered. He studied the baby. There were tiny, barely noticeable ridges already forming on Akaar's forehead. The light dusting of hair that made up his eyebrows turned upwards slightly, and his teeth—Vulcan and Romulan infants were born with a child's set—were flat.
"He's beautiful," he said to Barda and Ezar, who positively beamed at each other, although Barda's beam was more like a slight widening of the eyes and upturn of the lips. Evidently new parents were the same everywhere.
Bones was there for a congratulatory dinner, which was a mix of human, Vulcan, and Romulan dishes, all of which were delicious. The apartment was aesthetic and tasteful, made over in a distinctly human Beaux-Arts style, with strange little flourishes of the Vulcan Tveshu mode and Romulan paintings and sculptures. It was not their official residence: the Vulcan embassy was a large compound headed by T'Pau's house, at which Spock currently lived, on Van Ness Avenue, near the Civic Center; and the Romulan embassy was a small building on Market in the same area.
Bones had never spoken much with Romulans. They generally kept to themselves, and only a few went to Enterprise; most attended Pride, since they lived in the expensive Tenderloin neighborhood, which had undergone an extreme makeover as soon as the Romulans, finding that they liked the feel of the place, had started moving into San Francisco.
Ezar was like no Romulan Bones had ever met. He was gentle and kind, and he seemed very open to new ideas, even though Romulans were known for being xenophobic, belligerent, and haughtily traditional. Ezar was the son of a powerful Romulan family. His upbringing had been no different from most Romulans, but he had traveled to Earth early in his life and fallen in love with its peoples and cultures. He went to college at the Kismayo University in Somalia, one of the best in the world, and after graduating returned to Romulus to rise quickly through the political system to become the consul. Even though he embraced unpopular ideas and supported joining the Federation, Ezar was well-liked amongst his most of his people.
Barda and Ezar emphasized that they owed Bones more than they could repay him for helping to save the life of their child. They told him to request any favor and they would give it.
He thanked them for dinner and left, feeling full and important and happy to be alive. He wrote an email to Kirk about his night but did not send it, feeling the sour hatred surge back when he thought about Kirk for too long. Instead he messaged Chapel to ask her if she wanted to play tennis with him tomorrow, and stayed up longer than he thought he would waiting for a reply.
x
Spock was in the backyard of the Vulcan embassy, in the ceremonial garden, reading a book with I-Chaya's head resting on his lap, when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned, closing the book as he did so. I-Chaya whined as Spock's leg disappeared from under his chin.
"Greetings, Spock," said a soft voice in Vulcan. Spock saw who the speaker was and nearly gasped.
"Greetings," replied Spock, hardly able to believe his eyes. The boy standing a few meters away from him was like something from ancient history. "What brings you to Earth, Stonn?" Spock inquired of the boy, trying to keep the shock out of his voice.
"My mother and father have been assigned jobs at the embassy here," Stonn said. He was a little taller than Spock, with big ears and a rather flat face. His visage was unassuming, but he had a thick, muscular body.
"I see," said Spock delicately. "As you know, my father is the Vulcan Ambassador to Earth. Will your family reside on this planet for long?"
"I do not know," said Stonn. "We think—"
"Spock!" they both heard Sarek call. "Are you there? There is someone I wanted to—ah." Sarek rounded a cut-hedge and saw the two of them next to each other. "I see you have already encountered Stonn. Greetings, Stonn," Sarek added to the boy. "Spock, I wished to make you aware of certain other arrivals." Spock noted a subtle expression of pleasure flit across Sarek's face. "Lady T'Pau thought that you would benefit from the renewed attentions of Vulcans your own age. Idris has arrived, bringing his daughter."
It took most of Spock's self-restraint not to let his jaw drop. "Idris?" he said politely. "I was unaware that his position at the Vulcan Science Academy allowed him to leave Vulcan for long periods of time."
"Idris did not wish to leave his daughter. He has gone on sabbatical from the Academy in order to finish his textbook on psionics, and to act once more as my personal assistant."
"Then Idris and his daughter are here now?" said Spock, trying not to emphasize the 'now.'
"Yes," said Sarek, watching Spock closely.
"Fascinating," said Spock, rather weakly. He turned to Stonn. "You have also arrived recently?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Would you like a tour of the compound?"
"That would be pleasant," said Stonn.
Spock extended his arm to Stonn, who took it, and hurried Stonn away from Sarek, who looked positively crafty.
Strangely, Spock was not unhappy to see Stonn, even though he had spent a majority of his childhood being bullied by him. Stonn had become much nicer in the year before Spock had moved to Earth and they had actually started being something like friends.
"Idris has a daughter named T'Pria, does he not?" Stonn asked lightly.
"Yes," said Spock. He hesitated then said, "Idris has two daughters. The daughter of whom my father and I spoke is named T'Pring."
"Ah," said Stonn, glancing at Spock. "I have heard very much about T'Pring, but I have never met her. We just missed each other in school."
"I have not seen her since I moved to Earth," said Spock.
"You have not communicated?" Stonn asked curiously. "I spoke with Ridya almost every day, until she died."
Spock remembered that Ridya was Stonn's betrothed. "I am sorry for your loss," said Spock. "I had not heard that Ridya had died. When did this occur?"
"Two years ago," said Stonn. There was a note of sadness in his voice. "We were very close."
Spock touched Stonn's arm in a gesture of sympathy.
They explored the compound, ducking in and out of kitchens, living rooms, hallways, meeting rooms, and dining rooms. Stonn lived with his family near the back of the compound, quite far away from Sarek's lush apartments at the front. Spock and Stonn were just leaving his and Sarek's rooms when he heard another voice call his name. He turned towards it, and saw her.
"Greetings, T'Pring," he said.
Her look was almost bashful. "Spock," she said, giving him the formal Vulcan salute.
T'Pring was the same age as Spock. She had large, liquid eyes and shining hair that was piled on the top of her head in braids. She looked younger than he expected her to, as well, as if she really was fresh from his memory, still thirteen, the same as when he last saw her.
"Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched," he recited formally. She replied in kind. Stonn, Spock noticed, was staring almost rudely at T'Pring. As soon as her attention turned to Stonn, though, he lowered the intensity of his gaze.
"My friend Stonn, son of Storik, son of Soark," said Spock, introducing them. "My ko-kugalsu, my betrothed, T'Pring, daughter of T'Pral, daughter of T'Prio."
T'Pring and Stonn saluted, Stonn bashfully. He seemed enamored of T'Pring already. Spock felt his hackles raise a bit, if only in automatic disapproval, not real jealousy.
Spock escorted them around the compound, telling them about life on Earth and conversing as Vulcan teenagers generally did, which was mainly about politics, science, and philosophy, with a bit of subtle gossip thrown in as a side dish. Spock discovered that Melor, one of his primary tormentors from his years on Vulcan, had developed a bad case of pl'hakar lagashi, a disease that rendered its victim unable to speak coherently, and that T'Pera, another bully, had recently been rejected from the Vulcan Science Academy.
Spock tried to ask about the people he liked and the people he disliked equally, but he wasn't fooling either T'Pring or Stonn. They told him about all of the bad things that had happened to the people that had bullied him and the good things that had happened to the people that had not. Too soon—because, strange as it was, he was actually having a good time with his peers—it was time for dinner.
Dinner at the Vulcan compound was an important event. T'Pau resided over the large room on a dais with Sarek, Spock, and other high-ranking officials and their children. Idris, T'Pring's father, a tall, proud man with spiky, gray-streaked hair, sat next to Sarek. Since T'Pau was on Sarek's other side, Spock settled down next to Idris, with T'Pring beside him. Stonn's family was relegated to a lower table.
"Greetings, Spock," said Idris. Spock had always been worried about having him as a father-in-law. He had been Sarek's personal assistant ever since Spock could remember. He was famous for being tough and determined, even in the harshest of circumstances. Sarek had been an important council member before accepting a position as Ambassador to Earth and Idris had always been at his side, helping to plow through the red tape and political machinations. As a sign of how much Idris meant to their family, Sarek and Amanda had pledged Spock's hand to T'Pring when the two were seven years old, the traditional age at which Vulcans entered into arranged marriages.
"Greetings, Idris," Spock said. "I am pleased that you are once more assisting my father."
They talked about Idris's administrative duties for the first few courses. Spock was surprised that Idris didn't intimidate him more. It was beginning to occur to him that either all of the people he had once known had changed, or he had. It both disturbed and pleased him to think that he might have indeed been the one to change.
After dinner, Spock retreated to the garden. He tried to hide himself amongst the blooming carmel hydrangeas, but T'Pring discovered him and pulled him into the r'qhas square near the secondary fountains—pulled him out into the open.
The sun was nearly set and the small fairy-lights dusted about the garden had only just flickered on. T'Pring looked up at Spock nervously, and he saw that she was different than what he remembered. She was fuller, somehow, as if she had grown into herself. The same inner hardness and cutting manner was there, as well a ladylike subtlety and charm.
"I have not spoken to you for years, Spock," she said. "How is your life on Earth?"
"My life is pleasant," said Spock, speaking almost too quickly. They sat down on a marble bench framed by an ivied arch and a sundrop bush. "What of yours?"
"Enjoyable, such as it may be," she replied. She hesitated visibly, then said, "I am aware that it is customary for young Vulcans to be uninhibited by their marriage bond if they do not feel an emotional obligation to it, but I—I cannot help but—" She paused helplessly.
Spock did not know what she was trying to say. "You can tell me," he said, touching her clothed shoulder lightly.
"I have been in a number of relationships," she continued, "and I have consummated a few of them. My question is, have you, as well?"
"Ah," said Spock, relieved that this was what she was asking. "Yes. I have been in three relationships, one of which I have consummated. You felt guilt over your actions?"
"No," she said coolly, her manner shifting. "I felt an obligation to you."
He had forgotten how incredibly logical she was, even more so, at times, than other Vulcans, although the mood came and went.
"Your obligation does not manifest until my first pon farr," he said. "We both know that this will probably not occur until my thirties, due to my… hybrid genetics."
"I am aware," said T'Pring stiffly, drawing herself up. "We have never discussed this, however, and I wished to clarify the point." She kept her haughty shell, but looked at him with a bit more pity. "The Vulcan males of your age will begin to enter pon farr soon."
"I am sorry to leave you behind," he said. "Perhaps, if you wish, our marriage agreement could be renegotiated."
"That is an unnecessarily complicated step, for now," she said. "The advantage of becoming your wife is significant."
"As is the advantage of becoming your husband."
They watched each other, and for a pure moment, Spock did not trust T'Pring at all. The feeling dissipated quickly, to be replaced the general distant fondness he felt for her. She saluted him and took her leave, abandoning him amongst the night-blooming sundrops.
x
Uhura, Sulu, Scotty, and Chapel were hanging out at Chapel's house after school.
Chapel stuck her tongue out at her reflection, wrinkling her nose. Then she paused, frowning at the mirror.
"Maybe I should get my tongue pierced," she said thoughtfully.
"Like Gaila?" said Scotty, perking up immediately from behind his Quantum Mechanical Engineering magazine.
"Or not, if all the reaction I'd get is, 'Gaila has a tongue piercing too!'"
"Well, she does, 'tis a bit hard t' ignore."
"Ignore? Why would you want to ignore it?" said Uhura. She had her left hand wrapped tightly around Sulu's wrist. She had a bottle of clear nail polish out and was holding the brush dangerously close to Sulu's pointer.
"Quit torturing me and just paint them already," snapped Sulu.
"You should learn to do that yourself," Chapel commented, grabbing a hair tie from her dresser and starting on braids.
"Or I could just let all of my female friends do it for me. I've always been really bad at painting my nails."
"Me too," said Scotty sympathetically. "'Tis a male thing, ah think. Give it a couple thousand years t' work into our genes, ah say."
A door slammed distantly.
"That's my mom," said Chapel. "I'll be right back, you guys." She hiked up her skirt and tossed herself down the stairs.
"Hey mom," said Christine perkily, walking into the kitchen. Heather Chapel glanced over at her daughter. She was putting groceries away into the tall cabinets around the room.
"Christine," she said lightly. "How was your day?"
"Pretty good," said Christine, reaching into the fridge to grab a carrot. She gnawed on it noisily and hopped onto the counter. "How was work?"
"Interesting. I received an email from the school about your recent absence in physics."
Christine froze mid-chew. "Uh. Really?"
"Yes. Would you care to explain?" Heather fixed Christine with an incredibly intimidating mom-stare.
"Um, Caroline was having some, some, problems?"
"Caroline McKenna?"
"Yeah, so, me and Helen, uh, Noel, you remember her from my birthday party last year? Well. Anyway. We were, counseling her? Cuz she was having, like I said, some problems."
"Of an entirely non-sexual nature, I'm sure."
Christine couldn't help but grin. "No comment."
"My dear, if you skip class, you must do so for legitimate reasons. An impromptu threesome is not one of them."
"For the record, it wasn't impromptu." Christine paused. "Er, not that it was a threesome."
Heather sighed. "In any case, I am going to see your physics teacher tomorrow. What is his name again? Dike? Rike?"
"Pike."
"Yes, Mr. Pike—" Heather paused too, and looked swiftly up at her daughter. "What is his first name, again?"
"Christopher," said Christine slowly. "Why, mom?"
Heather blinked a few times. "You haven't mentioned him to me before, have you?"
"No, can't say I have… Do you know him?"
"It is possible that we served in Starfleet at around the same time," said Heather. "Well. How fascinating." She gave Christine a disarmingly brilliant smile. "Who've you got in your room?"
"Hikaru, Monty, and Nyota."
"No foursomes while I'm in the house, okay?"
Christine made a horrible face. "Oh my God, yes, mom. Sorry I ever came down to say 'hi' to you."
Heather pinched her cheek ironically. "You're such a good daughter."
"I hate you."
"Dinner at six thirty, understood?"
"'Kay."
Christine hopped off the counter and took the stairs two and three at a time.
"I think my mom knows Pike," she said to the room at large as she swept through the door. "Can anybody pull up their Starfleet stats? Do a side-by-side or something?"
Scotty reached for his PADD. "Ah can access my civilian Starfleet account; they let th' average citizen hack some of th' lower security stuff."
"Would you mind?"
"Not at all, lassie." Scotty tapped for a bit. "Pike captained a smaller battleship for a while, afore bein' promoted to chief of security on th' Kelvin. She was his first officer durin' that time."
"For how long?"
"Twenty months."
Chapel whistled. "Fascinating indeed."
x
"Oh my God," said Kirk. "It is hot." He tore off his jacket and was considering taking his shirt off when he glanced at Winona and saw her glare.
"Come on," she said. "It's barely thirty-five Celsius."
"It's more like forty. I'm going to melt."
"If you don't quit complaining I'll call whine-one-one," she chided, grinning. The whine-one-one thing was a joke she used to tell him in his childhood.
They smiled at each other and were quiet. It was Friday afternoon and they had just gotten off of a San Francisco-to-Austin transport that they had boarded as soon as school was out for the day. They were staying with Sam and Aurelan for the weekend. Aurelan claimed that she was starting to gain weight, but Jim, over the video feed, couldn't tell a difference.
Sam showed up in a few minutes, hugging each of them tightly. They took a hover-bus back to Sam and Aurelan's apartment. Jim mostly complained more about the weather and Sam, between Jim's vocalizations, pointed out landmarks. Jim paused to stare at the capitol building as they turned onto 11th Street from Congress.
"It's a sad urban legend that the Texas Capitol is the tallest in the nation," said Sam. "But it is the biggest."
"We should go in, some time," said Jim firmly. "Do you live near here?"
"About five minutes away," said Sam. "Seems farther as the crow flies. But the Austin transportation system is marvelous."
Sam and Aurelan lived in Hyde Park, near the university, in a small, two-bedroom duplex. Aurelan greeted them cheerfully, hugging Jim tightly and bustling their bags into the bedroom. Jim would be sleeping on the couch, which he didn't mind; he hated bunking with his mother.
Taking refuge in the bathroom, Jim fired off an email each to Uhura, Spock, and Sulu, who he had been bonding with during intense Enterprise repair sessions.
He also wrote about five emails to Bones and ended up deleting all of them.
Sam and Jim made dinner. Really, what happened was that Sam grilled the steak and directed Jim to peel and mash potatoes, warm up Brussels sprouts, and bake garlic bread. Jim did a majority of the legwork, but Sam was ultimately responsible for the taste, which was pretty damn good. They ate quickly, saving most of the talk for dessert.
"I got a job at Gothos," Jim provided over the dewberry cobbler Aurelan had been kind enough to whip up for them. "Network… legwork, I guess." He shoveled an ice-cream heavy bite of cobbler into his mouth and chewed enthusiastically.
"Impressive," said Sam, raising his eyebrows. "How'd you manage it?"
"Shut down a rogue robot on the assembly floor. The upper management was suitably impressed. You think I'm kidding." Jim shuddered heavily. "The IT guy couldn't believe we were in high school."
"You always were good with electronics," said Sam. "I remember you wiring up the motherboard on dad's car at the ripe old age of eight."
"I loved that car," said Jim distantly.
Winona looked like she wanted to say something along the lines of, "If you loved it so much, why the hell did you drive it off a cliff," but they had been over that a thousand times before, and it brought back too many painful memories. Instead she scooped some more of Amy's best vanilla ice cream out of its recycled container and onto her cobbler.
"She was a beauty," Sam agreed. "Heard you got yourself a motorcycle. Killed any bystanders yet?"
"Working on it, I assure you. Hey, speaking of driving, I got promoted to presidency of my hovercar club. Means I get to be the pilot."
"You? Drive the hover they've been working on for half a year now?" said Sam, highly skeptical. "How the hell did that happen?"
"President stepped down. Slight conflict of interest; our rival's pilot probably killed his mom."
Sam's eyebrows went haywire. Jim explained the situation, tossing in a few bonus stories about how insane Spock was.
"Spock sounds like a great guy," said Sam, tossing a knowing glance at Winona, who winked back at him.
"He's a regular Venus de Milo, stone personality and all," finished Jim, who hadn't caught the exchange between his mother and brother.
"Nice boobs, huh?" chuckled Sam.
"Well, maybe not those, but the abs, sure," laughed Kirk.
They played a few games of Parcheesi and looked through old photo albums for the rest of the night. Aurelan went to bed around midnight and Jim fell asleep on the couch a little after one. He woke up thirty minutes later to find that somebody had tucked a blanket over him and turned off the lights. On the way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, he saw that the kitchen light was on. He heard soft voices from inside the room and padded silently towards the door.
"… seems to be doing pretty well," Winona was saying.
"That's good." Sam's voice. "And he's dating that Leonard guy? I remember him. He drove me insane, used to make me wash my hands every single time I passed the bathroom. I always wanted Jim to have Gary Mitchell over more often."
"Well, they broke up, actually. Jim won't say why." There was a shifting noise and the slight brush of skin on skin. When Winona next spoke, her voice was muffled; she must have been covering her mouth. "It went like all of his relationships have. Fine for a while, and then, out of nowhere, they're apart."
"You talked to him about it?"
"Of course not. I tried, but he—I don't know." Winona sounded despairing. Jim pressed himself closer to the wall, his hands beginning to sweat around his toothbrush and soap. "He makes himself all distant about these things, you know?"
"I know," said Sam.
There was a bit more quiet. Jim considered moving on, but something compelled him to stay.
"How is Frank?" Sam said in a near-whisper. "I hate to ask, but…"
"Christ," Winona said, just as soft, but with a bite in her tone. "He's the same. He's just the same."
"No change in prognosis?"
"None."
"They're not—they're not planning on charging Jim with—?"
"Of course not," said Winona sharply, distinctly louder than she had been. "They wouldn't dare. The DA has said he can put Frank away for umpteen life sentences if he ever recovers."
"Keep it down. The house has thin walls."
"Yeah. Sorry."
"Has he been seeing a psych?"
"Every week, for an hour. And social services drops by once a month to check up on things. I always feel like such scum around them. I know they blame me for it. Hell, I blame me for it. I'm sure he blames me for it, as well."
"I'm sure he doesn't," said Sam comfortingly. "Jim's not that kind of guy."
"He—he blamed you."
"Of course he did. I abandoned him."
"So did I. It was worse of me, Sam. I'm his fucking mother. I should have been there."
"The pay was better off planet, mom, that's why you left, and you couldn't know. You just thought we were two little gremlins you happened to love. You couldn't have known."
"I could have. I should have. Frank was—Sam, you know what he was doing."
"I do," Sam said, like it hurt to admit it. "I was there. He beat me too, you know."
"Christ," Winona repeated. "Sam."
"Mom, it's okay. Hush. I'm fine."
"But Jim—"
Sam sighed. "I know."
They were quiet.
"Do you think he's okay?" said Winona, and the wavering note in her voice scared Jim.
"I don't know," said Sam. The words sounded like they hurt him. "He probably isn't, mom. Why the hell would he be?"
"He's so strong. I just think, sometimes, that it washed over him."
"I don't think it did. That old saying about rock and water, you know. Everything gets eroded."
Jim had heard enough. He glided to the bathroom and scrubbed at his teeth and face. He stared into the mirror for a moment after raising his head from the basin. The skin of his face was bright red and his teeth glistened. He felt of his chapped lips with one finger, then looked away, not wanting to meet his own eyes.
There were four emails on his PADD, one from Uhura, one from Sulu, two from Spock, and none from Bones. He read the ones from Spock but did not reply. He stowed his things and went back outside. The light in the kitchen was off.
He fell asleep quickly, and did not dream.
x
Austinites, I am aware that in order to get to Hyde Park from Austin-Bergstrom you totally don't have to pass the Capitol. They were taking the downtown scenic route, I'm sure.