Safi Afua used to miss his loud, lively extended family's spirited exchanges in Zanzibar until he met Alaina and her loud, lively extended family. He used to worry about overcoming potential cultural differences between his East African roots and this family's North American ones, but it turned out that the Markham-Graysons had already crossed a wider interplanetary-interspecies cultural divide successfully.

Despite this, he had understood the concerns that Margaret and Allen had shared about Spock's visit prior to his arrival. Like everyone else on Earth, Safi had seen Commander Spock all over the newsvids after Nero's defeat. In those newsvid interviews, Captain Kirk, not Commander Spock, did most of the talking. The glacial commander, unmistakably reluctant to discuss anything about the fate of his planet or his role in the Battles of Vulcan or Earth, provided only succinct answers to questions he barely tolerated. Based on these images, Safi had expected an uncomfortable meal with awkward conversation, although Alaina, drawing from childhood memories, told him, Don't worry. He's quiet, but he's a nice guy.

Safi agreed except for one thing: Spock was reserved and had a quiet manner, but he had not been quiet. Though he remained a dignified Vulcan, the enigmatic commander did not shy away from the family's bantering.

"…You fixed the dishwasher, too?" This was Item #7 on the list Allen was compiling. "Was that really broken when you were here, Spock?"

"Margaret told Mother that irregular sounds emanated from it," Spock explained patiently, holding his own on the receiving end of Allen's comical interrogation. "Based on Margaret's assessments, it had been doing so for a rather extended period."

"And no one noticed that you took it apart?"

"I did so before others had awakened."

"You were up in the middle of the night?"

"He was probably bored," Nyota interjected. "He fixes things in my quarters all the time."

"While you're sleeping?"

"No, when I'm out on third shift. I rarely have to call maintenance for anything."

It was true. Spock often heard the beginnings of equipment malfunctions before Nyota noticed a decrease in performance. It should have been something that the ship's maintenance crew handled, not the ship's first officer. Neither Spock nor Nyota, however, cared for the intrusion into private quarters, so Spock preferred to deal with these matters himself.

Allen got back to his list. "OK, what else?"

Spock searched his memory. "I applied lubricant to all door hinges."

"And?"

"I performed basic hardware and software maintenance on Alaina's PADD. Its operating efficiency was well below standard parameters."

"And?"

"Norah's comm station also required basic maintenance."

"I'm not surprised about that one. She was on that thing constantly."

"Dad!" Norah protested while Alaina and Nyota tittered.

"Stop!" Margaret ordered. "Allen, drop it. It's just like living with my father again." She looked at Spock amusedly. "Norah's was the second comm unit you repaired during that visit, wasn't it?"

Spock shared a look of common recollection with his aunt. "It was," he acknowledged.

"I forgot about that," said Allen. "Margaret, tell Nyota the story about your father and Little Mr. Fixit here."

Safi noted a brief flicker of mild annoyance in Spock's expression before the Vulcan went blank again. He sympathized—over the years, Safi's family had delighted in telling his girlfriends childhood stories about him, too.

Margaret smiled. "Spock has a long history of taking things apart…"

-o0o-

[17.6875 years previously]

"Amanda!"

Howard Grayson was angry. His tone left no doubt.

"Dad?" came his daughter's voice as she rounded the corner from her parents' living room into the office alcove. Margaret and Jeanne Grayson followed.

Before them stood the tall, 60-ish human male facing down the 8-year-old Vulcan child. Hard blue eyes locked with equally resolute brown ones.

"Amanda," Howard began again tightly, "your son has destroyed this comm unit."

Before them, neatly arranged on a work cloth, were the contents of the now-empty shell of the home communications station.

"Oh, so what if he did? That stupid unit never worked, and you know it," said Jeanne. "It dropped three calls on me this week. I'm sick of it."

"It's a perfectly good unit," said Howard. "That's why I was working on it last night, and I was about to work on it this morning when I found … this." The more he spoke, the redder his face became. Amplifying his consternation was the fact that the child showed no remorse, no fear. In fact, the child remained perfectly calm.

Amanda stooped down to eye level with her son. "Spock, tell me. Did you take this unit apart?"

"Ko-mekh, vesht kup gla-tor nash-veh—"

"—No, Spock, in Standard. We are on Earth. Speak in Standard so that everyone understands," said Amanda.

Amanda shook her head. This was nothing new. Only when she and Sarek had returned home early from their trip to the market had they found Spock quickly trying to reassemble a scanner. In questioning him, they found out that he had at one time or another taken apart most of the appliances in the house over the preceding year. They had never noticed because he always managed to reassemble them before they found out.

"Mother, upon disassembly, I was able to identify the common source of multiple malfunctions. Basic maintenance protocols will address it," the child replied. "If I might be permitted—"

"No, he is not permitted," stormed Howard. "It's not a maintenance problem. It's a capacitor!"

"Incorrect," said Spock. "Dust is impeding the conductivity of several connections. The capacitor is functioning otherwise."

"It is not!"

"This meter indicates that it is operating within normal parameters."

Howard stared at his grandson, who, standing at perfect attention, stared right back. Howard's patience was wearing thin. Spock, however, simply stood his ground and quietly regarded his grandfather impassively.

Jeanne sighed. "Howard, you realize that you're arguing with an 8-year-old, don't you?"

"Why is that, Amanda?" Howard asked. "He needs to learn some respect."

"I don't see any disrespect here," said Jeanne evenly before a shocked Amanda could respond. "Your grandson seems to know what he's talking about. Maybe he should not have taken that piece of junk apart without asking, but other than that he's done nothing wrong. And, I might add, how long have I been saying that we needed to call in the service people for maintenance?"

Amanda and Margaret watched the familiar argument between their parents. Their father, always reluctant to part with more credits than necessary, refused to pay for regular maintenance on several devices throughout the house, preferring to maintain them himself. This confounded Jeanne, who could not believe that her fastidious and busy surgeon husband, who insisted that all his surgical equipment at the hospital perform at optimum levels at all times, refused to insist on the same for appliances at home. His budgets included generous maintenance and upgrade funds. At home… You pick your priorities, he always said.

So Jeanne, Amanda, and Margaret had to contend with replicators, clothes freshers, and—worst of all—comm units that often broke down until Howard or Jeanne figured out how to fix them or, finally giving up after long and hard battles, bought new ones.

"Dad," said Amanda. "Let him try to fix it. If he can't, then I'll be happy to buy you and Mom a new comm unit." She looked at her son, who remained impassive. "Spock, the rules from our home apply here and everywhere else. From now on, you do not take apart anything without the owner's or governing authority's permission. Understand?"

"Ha, Ko-mekh." Spock's simple answer in Vulcan, not Standard, was his act of defiance, one that his mother did not miss. Spock clearly thought that his grandfather's attitude was illogical, but Amanda did not excuse this bit of attitude on her son's part. She gave him a stern look in warning, which Spock understood completely.

Howard did not like the idea of being outsmarted or outdone by a child, though this one's intelligence ranked at genius level even for Vulcans. He looked back down. Spock returned his grandfather's gaze with big, deep brown eyes that stared back in challenge. The child had a smug and fiery confidence in this matter, standing at attention as he awaited permission to proceed.

"Fine," Howard relented. "But I'm going to be watching him every step of the way."

Jeanne looked at the ceiling. "For crying out loud … don't you try to intimidate him. He's not one of your surgical residents. He's a child."

"I'll do no such thing," Howard declared in his own defense.

"Don't worry, Mom," said Amanda. "Spock's focus will be on fixing the unit. Few things distract him once he gets going.… Do your best, Spock."

"I will," Spock replied, turning back to the comm unit to assess his next approach.

"Let your grandfather know what you are doing as you take each step, please," Amanda suggested, hoping to avoid more agitation between older and younger generations. "That will help him understand and ease his concerns. He is not familiar with your talents."

"Ken-tor nash-veh," her son replied. "I understand," he translated for the Terrans in the room.

Amanda smiled despite Spock's intentional slip back into Vulcan—he was testing boundaries today, which they would discuss later. For now she turned to walk back to her spot on the living room sofa, leaving her grumbling father and occupied son behind to their task. Margaret and Jeanne followed.

"Will he really be able to fix it?" Jeanne asked once the three women settled back into their spots. "I almost hope he can't. I'm ready send that stupid thing to the recycler."

Amanda smirked. "He's more stubborn than Dad is. Just wait…"

-o0o-

Allen laughed. "I was surprised when Margaret told me that you actually touched an appliance in Howard Grayson's house, Spock. You were a brave little boy. I'm surprised you survived."

"Bravery was not a factor," Spock stated, "nor was my mortality threatened."

Everyone else burst out laughing.

"You had no idea," Allen said. "One time your grandmother asked me to adjust a setting on their kitchen stasis unit, and Howard almost blew up. I learned early on that you didn't touch any appliance in that house. I don't know why your grandfather was so weird when it came to things like that."

"After you and your mother returned to Vulcan," Margaret added, "Mom never let Dad forget how well the comm unit worked after you did your thing. She called in the maintenance & repair people, and they went through the house top to bottom on everything. Dad wasn't happy when they got the bill, but Mom didn't care. She told him he was being 'illogical' about it, which really got him mad, but he never argued with her about appliance maintenance & repair again. Thank heavens!"

Nyota continued to giggle as she met Spock's confused eyes, then giggled even more. The more she looked, the more she giggled. Her inability to stop herself infected the other humans with laughter of their own.

"Nyota, what is so amusing?" Spock asked finally.

She touched his forearm as she tried to calm herself. "I'm sorry. These family stories are cute. I have this mental picture of a little you with a little tool belt fixing everything in the house. It's adorable!"

Spock wondered if Nyota had had too much wine. She was—what was the word she used one time? Giddy? Margaret met that description as well.

"Oh, he was adorable," said Margaret. "Amanda said that when she sat him down to teach him how to play the piano, he wouldn't sit still until she showed him how the keys connected to the hammers that hit the strings to produce the sound. He had to know how it worked before he would play it. He was only 2 at the time."

Nyota, delighted by Margaret's reminiscences, looked up at Spock and smiled lovingly. Spock tried to ignore her stoically.

"He was the quietest child," Margaret continued. "He hardly said anything while he was here, and when he said anything, it was usually a question. After they left, Amanda said that he bombarded her with questions all the way back to Vulcan. Good thing it was a fast ship."

Intellectually, Spock understood that Margaret told her stories about him with affection. Although the stories themselves did not make him uncomfortable, the act of relating any story about him did. It reminded him of the stories told within Sarek's extended family during his childhood, most often unfavorable. He wished to end it, but how could he do so without offense or disrupting the pleasant mood?

Then he remembered advice and information that Nyota's mother had provided.

Safi continued to observe the interplay. Nyota and Margaret obviously were testing Spock's boundaries, and he was taking it, but Safi also sensed Spock's mind working on a way out of his predicament. Sure enough, Spock's eyes narrowed slightly and focused on Nyota, who had burst out laughing at another one of Margaret's stories.

"Nyota," Spock said quietly. "You are aware that you are the subject of your own mother's recollections."

Nyota's smile froze. Uh-oh. Where was he going with this? "What?"

"Your mother related several of your childhood incidents to me." He paused to let the impact of his statement sink in.

Nyota knew he was up to something. "Spock…?" she asked warily.

Then he continued, drawing out his words. "One particularly interesting episode involved paint and red shoes."

Nyota's mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. "Mama told you about that?" she exclaimed.

"Oh, by all means, Spock," said Allen, grinning. "Tell!"

"Don't you dare! Don't you dare!" Nyota waved her hands rapidly in protest, half-growling through her own laughter when it looked like Spock might do so. "Omigod, why did Mama tell you that story?"

"Your mother explained that knowledge of such anecdotes would someday be necessary for my own defense," Spock stated thoughtfully, a faint lilt of amusement in his voice. "I now understand her logic. Before I relate her anecdote, perhaps you wish to change the course of this conversation."

"But Margaret's the one telling the stories!" said Nyota.

"Did you not state earlier that Margaret was not to be blamed?" he asked innocently.

Exasperation crossed Nyota's face. "Good passive voice, Spock. I said that you should not blame Margaret for what you did. This is blackmail!""

"Margaret," said Spock slowly and patiently, "would this be an appropriate application of the idiom: 'The shoe is now on the other foot'?"

"Yes, Spock, I believe it is," Margaret snickered.

"And, Nyota, would it be appropriate to point out that the shoe is, in your case, red?"

"Ha-ha!" Nyota huffed, her face warming in embarrassment while the others laughed. Spock's eyes continued to meet hers in challenge. What other stories had Mama had told him? "Fine! We'll change the subject."

"That's OK," said Allen. "Although I'm dying to hear about Nyota, paint, and red shoes, we have plenty of embarrassing stories about Norah and Alaina that we can share instead."

"Dad!" his daughters chorused.

"In the interest of self-defense, I would like to hear about Alaina," said Safi. "My family has told Alaina too many stories about me. Nyota, our mothers are too much alike."

"And your aunts and uncles?" Nyota asked. "Mine are just as bad."

"Yes, and all my cousins, too!" Safi laughed. "There are no secrets! What one knows, they all know!"

"That's so typical in an East African family," Nyota observed.

"And it's so typical in this one, too," said Norah. "As I said earlier, news in this family travels fast. Shared stories and experiences in general create a greater bond between members of an organization, and we have one very cohesive family!"

Nyota nudged Spock. "Mama must really like you if she's telling you our family stories."

Spock, unsure how to respond, did not. He would have to think about it.

"Here's to families! Here's to cohesion!" laughed Alaina, raising her wine glass.

"To families and cohesion!" said the other humans, raising their glasses in turn.

"In the interest of cohesion," Allen began, "Safi, did I ever tell you about the time Alaina…"

Spock's thoughts wandered as Allen told a lighthearted story about Alaina getting stuck in her attempt to climb a tree. Instead of berating her for inefficient planning, poor climbing skills, or undertaking such an illogical endeavor in the first place, Allen chuckled as he described the unique contortions Alaina's body made wedged between the branches, then the unexpected problem-solving skills it took to devise a way to extract her. Alaina laughed as she described her own emotional distress during the incident as her father rescued her. Father and daughter shared their relief at the positive outcome, which had, indeed, forged a deeper family bond between them.

In the end, Alaina always knew that she could always rely on her father and the rest of her family. On an emotional level carefully tucked deep within, Spock envied that.