A/N: What can I say? I just couldn't contain myself...

First Logic

U.S.S. Enterprise, 2264.19, 1846 hours. "Cookie, Sa-mekh?"

Spock did not break stride as he attempted to exit the Officer's Mess with T'Alora in his arms. He knew that if he stopped to gaze into her face he would be met with a look similar to the one Nyota employed as she attempted to get her own way, and he knew that there was a 44.06% chance he would give in to his daughter's request this evening.

"Sanoi?"

At her pitiful plea he did look and T'Alora batted her long eyelashes (another oft-used maneuver from her mother), causing him to pause near the door.

"No, T'Alora. Your nutritional needs have already been met and a dessert at this hour will cause a 35.9 minute delay in your evening routine as the excess energy is worked out of your system."

She scrunched up her face and he tenderly smoothed the dark curls off her brow. After the day he had had Spock did not want to endure a fit of pique from his daughter. He took another step toward the exit.

"But I've been good all day!"

Her exclamation stopped him short again. The statement was factual; T'Alora had been on her best behavior for the last 9.77 hours under some rather unusual circumstances.

It all began after they dropped Nyota off at the transporter room so she could be beamed down to a xenolinguistic conference. He and T'Alora were going to spend the morning exploring various parts of the ship followed by lunch in the Mess and an afternoon of gymnastics and art.

Spock's plan had promptly gone awry 25.8 minutes after his wife left the Enterprise.

His communicator chirped as they prepared to enter Engineering. Lieutenant Ky'Tiel's experiment involving the highly combustive (and odious) Rhina Beans had, in fact, exploded. Spock was forced to take T'Alora with him to the science lab as he oversaw the clean-up and filed the requisite incident reports. She had kept herself entertained for the better part of the 3.18 hours as he squared everything away; it was a far greater period of time then her usual attention span allowed and she did not complain once.

However well-mannered she was, he and Nyota were not in the habit of rewarding their daughter's positive behavior with sweet treats. Still, Spock's curiosity got the better of him as he asked, "And you believe your manners today merit additional foodstuffs of dubious nutritional content?"

T'Alora nodded enthusiastically. "I been good when Mama's gone…even when we were stuck in the stinky labs! I could'a not been good 'cause it was boring and smelled icky but then you wouldn'ta got your work done! I helpt!" As if afraid her original point had been lost she ended with, "I should get cookie."

Across the bond Spock sensed the swell of pride as she reached her conclusion. Indeed, crude though it was, T'Alora's first attempt at logic was nonetheless impressive and he was quite satisfied at her intuitive leap.

One lesson he had learned well in his years aboard ship was that there were exceptions to every rule; another, and one that Nyota often liked to remind him of, was that 'the walls have ears'. He was on the verge of doing an about-face to the replicator when a voice from behind him drawled, "Oh Hell, Spock, if you don't hurry up and give that little girl a cookie then I will. I never thought logic could sound so damn cute!"

Before he could chastise his friend for his colorful language McCoy's wife swatted his arm and gestured to his little girl. "Len! Language!"

T'Alora giggled at all the fuss while he merely raised an eyebrow. "Indeed, Doctor." Spock stepped up to the replicator and produced three peanut butter cookies, handing one to his daughter. "I could not agree with you more; and, according to T'Alora's logic, I believe I also deserve a reward for my exemplary behavior." He handed the last cookie to Christine who sat laughing uproariously as she took the proffered treat.

He could feel the Doctor's glaring eyes on his back as he left, T'Alora's crumb-smeared face resting on his shoulder as she smiled and waved good-bye to her friends.

Sa-mekh = Father

Sanoi = Please