A/N: Man, if I manage to hit 100 reviews for a story for the first time, I am going to be extraordinarily happy! Thank you all for sticking with me as I progress. I wish I could update more often than I am, but I have a job to go to each day…and that demands a great deal of my time. That, and I'm re-writing my chapters six or seven times before publishing them. Call me picky.

I love hearing from each and every one of you. Quicksilvermad, as always, love hearing how you enjoyed specific aspects. That helps a great deal. I hope I can evoke emotion like that from you in future chapters.

I am also aware of those who believe Lauren is too "perfect and mature" for her young age. In response, I ask only this: wait. There is a reason for why I have created her this way.

This chapter is, admittedly, short. I apologize for that, but I really wanted to update, as I have had MANY requests to update as soon as possible.

Continuous thanks to Hannah, my co-conspirator and center of inspiration…and knower of future information others are not privy to. Hehehe!

In a state of meditation, everything was peaceful. Here, there was no worry, no anger, no fear, no pain, no sorrow. There was only concentration. Intense, total concentration. One's mind joined with one's body. The spirit at peace, at respite. Breathing was controlled and even, soothing away the disruption of emotions in the mind, creating a calming mental atmosphere. Spock had practiced the technique ever since he was a child, accepting it as a crucial activity in Vulcan culture. Sarek had highly recommended it, as he saw this as an opportunity for a young Spock to cope with the torment he had received from his peers. Thankfully, it had been relatively successful. Right now, his psyche was in darkness, but it was an embracing, serene, feeling. He was in the moment when all sensation in the body was suspended.

The kneeling position he had taken in his quarters was comfortable, fingers joined before him in a focused manner. He knew Sarek would be doing the same in his own room, since both began their mornings with private meditation rituals. For Spock, it lasted another half hour, until he had attained a satisfied joining of his heart and mind.

As he gradually pulled himself from his session, the sounds of Lauren's violin trickled into his ears. She was practicing in her room, and the music filtered through the hallways of their home. This was her method of meditation in the mornings: to practice a talent she had loved on Earth in solitude. Along with her violin, songs also played from her computer system, which she accompanied.

His eyes opened, and he listened. The music was slow-paced, steady, pleasing to the ear, not a disruption. His acute sense of hearing allowed him to identify the tune as "Tears in Heaven," a twentieth century song by Eric Clapton, an Earth musician. It had once been a question asked of him as a child in the learning center.

Lauren had been playing violin since she was ten-years-old, self-taught as opposed to being trained by an instructor. She played well, but was her own worst critic. Spock knew, though, that anyone who could teach themselves to play an instrument exhibited immense intelligence. He cocked his head as the music went on. He reminisced on his last visit to her home, when he had seen her play for the first and only time. As she moved the bow across the strings, she stepped back and forth, dancing along with the beat, keeping time by physically becoming part of the song. He thought about what it really was for his quiet cousin: her ability to express herself without the use of words. What could be more appropriate?

Standing, he began to prepare himself for the outing Lauren had requested. Sarek had dismissed himself after his early meditation to fulfill duties for the Vulcan High Council. This would give Spock a chance to spend quality time with Lauren. Since coming to Vulcan II yesterday, this was critical to him. It would give him a chance to get in touch with the part of him that was…like her. These thoughts arose in his mind as he packed a small brown bag with data screens. In his ears, he still heard the music Lauren created.

During his preparation, however, he was interrupted by the beep of his transmission monitor. Without another thought, he activated the live screen. His eyebrow arched in surprise at the grinning face he saw.

"Jim, I made it clear that I would contact you when introductions were arranged, not the other way around."

Kirk smirked. "I gave you time. I waited a day; and then I got tired of waiting," he shrugged innocently.

Spock's eyes narrowed ever so subtly. "Patience never was your strongest virtue."

"I don't argue that claim, but sometimes, you've got to take things into your own hands. So on that note, is your cousin around? I'd like to meet her."

"I have not had a proper chance to mention an introduction to you—"

"Then you best get cracking!" He interjected. "No time like the present."

Spock was about to protest, but paused when Lauren entered his open doorway. He had been unaware that the violin had been silenced. Again, the Vulcan head scarf was wrapped loosely about her neck. A small bag of her own hung from her shoulder, almost a replica of his, and she shoved two large pieces of fruit inside.

"You ready, Spock?"

"Hey! Is that her?" Kirk called excitedly. From where she stood, Kirk could not see her on the screen. "Is that her voice I heard? I know I heard someone, and your lips weren't moving."

She halted. "Is this a bad time?"

"No, you are not intruding," he assured her. Knowing Kirk, he would be relentless in his pursuit to meet Lauren, and no doubt would contact him endlessly until he got his way. Rather than fight it, he sighed to himself and turned back to his friend. "Will you please give me a moment?"

"I'm timing you."

Muting the audio feed to Kirk, Spock explained the situation to Lauren, who was agreeable to an introduction. Activating the audio again, he spoke to Kirk. "Jim, allow me to introduce my cousin, Lady Lauren Grayson-Reed." He guided her to the front of the monitor, where captain and child faced each other for the first time.

Kirk's smile could not have gotten any wider. "Hey! So you are the Lauren of Vulcan II."

"Hello," she said kindly, giving a short wave.

"I'd like to say I've heard a lot about you, but I haven't. Someone else is at fault for that," he shot a comical look at Spock, who had raised an eyebrow. "I do know you're Spock's cousin, though. I'm Jim Kirk, captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise."

"I know who you are," she said. "My parents mentioned your name a lot at home."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," he gloated. "They ever tell you about my devilishly good looks, too?"

"Jim," Spock warned.

He ignored the Vulcan. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Speaking of parents, my condolences to you, sweetheart. Maybe we could talk about it sometime later."

She understood what he alluded to: Kirk had lost his father the day he was born. Anyone involved in Starfleet knew this, and her parents had been no exceptions. The loss of at least one parent was now a common link for her, Spock and Kirk. "Maybe. Thanks."

"Any chance of you visiting Enterprise while you're living with Ambassador Sarek?"

That was a question she had not expected. "I don't know."

"Really? It might be fun to have you come visit all of us sometime."

She seemed to consider the offer. "That'd be really different for me. We'll see."

"Glad to hear it." He studied her face intently. "I have to say, Spock, she doesn't look a thing like you."

The cousins exchanged a look, and both raised eyebrows. "Being that she is wholly of human heritage," Spock said, "this would make sense."

"I realize. Just a mental note said out loud."

He nodded shortly. "Despite this, I like to think there are other attributes of me found within, which are not limited to physical similarities." At this, Lauren looked at him and smiled.

"Ah, she smiles," Kirk commented. "Good thing, too. Something you ought to try more often; no offense, Spock."

"None taken," he answered evenly.

His attention was back on the girl. "Let me tell you, if there's one thing Jim Kirk is good at, it's how to tell the future when it comes to pretty girls." He leaned in close to his screen, giving him close eye-to-eye contact with Lauren. "Prediction: in years to come, it's going to be clear that she hit the jackpot in the looks department. She'll be a knockout someday, Spock."

Lauren felt the familiar warmth of a flush creeping into her cheeks.

"Need I remind you, Jim," Spock's voice was taking a protective tone, "that my cousin is only fourteen years of age."

"No, you needn't remind me. I'm well aware of her age. And what? What's wrong with a guy giving a complement to a girl?"

"The circumstances here are more than a little different," he cautioned.

He began to chuckle. "I miss you already, Spock. You have no idea how cute it is to hear you get all huffed up over your cousin. It's cute, really! I wouldn't be shocked if a little vein starts to pop out of your forehead. I can't wait to see you with kids of your own someday. Think you'll be as overprotective as—" He did not finish the statement, since he had noticed the way Lauren was squinting at him. It was as though some intricate detail had garnered her focus. He was intrigued, and looked back to her. "What? What are you staring at, Lauren?"

Her face remained studious as she said, "Your head is big."

Kirk blinked, obviously unprepared for the comment. He almost did not know what to say. "What?" He managed to stammer.

"You have a big head," she repeated quite casually. "It looks kind of big on the screen."

Silence. Then, "Excuse me?" He squeaked.

Spock, who also had not anticipated her sudden observation, found himself repressing the smile that threatened to break his appearance. She had voiced the words in complete innocence, making it all the more charming. Her remark was a detail he frequently used to define his friend, but never would he have thought to put it so succinctly.

"I…huh?" Kirk was still dumbfounded, unable to retort. Spock had never seen struggle so desperately for words.

Her brows knit. "No one's ever said that to you?"

His head shook slowly. "I have to say it's a first. A big head…a big head?" A hand went to his cheek; he looked to be feeling the size of it.

"Perhaps," Spock finally cut in, still managing his calm face, "this would be a good time to end our transmission. Lauren and I have a previous engagement, so we must take our leave."

His mouth was agape, but Kirk shook himself out of it. "Yeah, alright. If you…guys have to go, then you have to go. Uh, will you…er, any chance I'll be h-hearing from you before you leave the planet?"

He was quite impressed at Lauren's ability to render him unintelligible. "That is an amiable request."

"Good. I'll be waiting." He smiled at the girl once more, and swiftly reclaimed his speaking abilities. "Nice meeting you, Lady Lauren, and I better hear from you again. You do me a favor and take care of that serious cousin of yours. That's an order."

She smiled. "Yes, sir. Nice meeting you, too. Bye, Captain Kirk."

"You call me Jim," he said with mock sternness. "We'll save formalities for when you come aboard Enterprise."

When I come, she mused, not deeming it possible. She nodded, giving the Vulcan salute, which made Jim chuckle to himself. "Bye, Jim."

Spock mimicked the gesture. "Live long and prosper."

"Take care, both of you. Kirk out." The screen went black.

She looked at Spock, slightly confused. "Did I say something wrong earlier?"

There were a few comments Sarek would have made to suggest better diplomacy towards a Starfleet captain. However, Spock knew she had innocently voiced her thought aloud. And, after the fragment of amusement he had felt at her words, he had no desire to scold her for it. Why punish that which was true?

"Not in the slightest." He stood, placing an arm around her shoulders. "Come; we have much to accomplish."

U.S.S. Enterprise

In his lavatory, Kirk stared at himself in the mirror, turning his face in every direction. The comment from Spock's cousin had struck him in an unexpected way. It's not big, he thought. She's just a kid; she didn't really mean it. Did she? He tilted his chin up again. It's not really that big…is it? He felt at his neck. Is my neck too small? Could that be what she saw?

It was going to plague him unless he addressed the issue. He activated a communication channel, bright blue eyes never breaking away from his reflection. "Kirk to sickbay."

"McCoy here," came the instant reply.

Good, just who he wanted. "Bones, you got a second?"

"As always," the sarcasm was thick in Dr. Leonard McCoy's voice. "Is it urgent?"

"Not really, but since I have your attention, let me ask you something," he was rubbing at his chin thoughtfully. "Do you think I have a big head?" For a long moment, there was silence from the other end. No static; just nothing. Absolutely nothing. Kirk thought the channel must have inadvertently closed somehow. "Bones?"

Finally, he responded. "Uh, Jim, is this a…trick question?"