"It doesn't matter that we have universal translators," Amanda scoffed, rolling her eyes as she made her way down the San Fransico sidewalk heading for her apartment.
"It's a waste of time to spend curriculum on this when we have the technology." Her dearest friend, colleague, and sometimes rival, was currently arguing their side, words transported who knew how many miles to sound through the communicator held loosely in Amanda's hand.
"Learning a language is the root of beginning to understand a different culture," Amanda pressed. "If we include Vulcan, Tellar, or Andorian when a child is young, think about how it will continue to contribute to the decline in xeno…"
It was instinct, really, the way that her hand shot out. It didn't matter that she was midsentence, or that her communicator fell forgotten to the ground, shattering upon impact. No, all that mattered was the tiny figure that had whizzed by her, just a blur of dark hair around hand level.
She'd never been considered particularly graceful, parts of her were much less polished than others, but there was a fluidity in the way in which long fingers curled without thought around a tiny upper arm. The movement segued immediately to another, the whole thing ending up like some sort of dance, Amanda turning while she swept up the child, ending up with the young boy resting easily on her hip.
"Hello there." Full lips spread into a bright smile. "I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to run into the road." It was likely that the automatic safety features of the transports would have stopped before they hit the child, but her brain hadn't been busy doing calculations. Just acting.
The child looked unperturbed, instead maybe boredom mixed with a dash of restlessness. His eyes were as dark as his hair, and his ears failed to curve, instead pointing up at the ends. Amanda had never actually met a Vulcan before, and this seemed like a strange sort of introduction.
"I'm Amanda." Her gaze snapped up to scan the individuals on the thoroughfare, looking for anyone who might belong to the little one, or vice versa.
He had to be five, or somewhere thereabouts. Vulcan children tended to develop quicker than humans, so he must be capable of speech. Amanda may not have known any Vulcans, but her graduate studies had been on linguistics and xenoanthropology, so she had a smidge of insight, even if she didn't choose to pursue her Ph.D.
It wasn't as though he was trying to communicate and failing, though. More that he hadn't decided what to make of her, his eyes peering up through unusually shaggy bangs, for a Vulcan at least.
Or not so unusual. While the boy shifted in her arms, Amanda spotted a haggard-looking older Vulcan male hurrying down the block. "Ah. There's your keeper." She booped the boy on the nose and then regretted it. Would that be offensive? Vulcans were weird about touch. It didn't matter, she'd already done it. "You're a little terror aren't you?"
"My name is Sybok." His tiny spine straightened as he offered his name in that overly formal speech that Vulcans tended to use. Speech that was ever so strange coming out of a child's mouth.
"It is very nice to meet you, Sybok." Amanda's smile was back, not that it had ever really gone anywhere, merely dimmed as she took in her surroundings. "If I set you down, will you promise not to run off?"
The boy, now known as Sybok, considered her question but shook his head. "I find this arrangement much more agreeable."
"Oh you do, do you?" Amanda laughed, tightening her grip around his slender form. She had assumed that he couldn't wait to get out of her hold, but he seemed to crave the connection, leaning into her to rest his head against her shoulder.
By this time the older Vulcan had caught up to them, his robes wrinkled and askew. He had that air of superiority that Amanda often wondered if Vulcans practiced, looking down his nose at the scene before him.
"He was about to run into traffic." Amanda explained, running her fingers soothingly down Sybok's back as she rocked him slightly. He might be a Vulcan child, but he was still a child, and children always brought out a softness in Amanda.
"It would be best if you set him down." The as of yet unnamed Vulcan stated. She hadn't expected a thank you, or really anything, but the disdain she was picking up wasn't exactly appreciated.
Looking down at the little boy in her grasp, Amanda felt a tug deep down inside of her. It was irrational, she'd interacted with him for all of five minutes, but the idea of putting him down, of letting him go, was distasteful.
Those dark eyes peered up at her, but he was silent, and after a heartbeat or two, his fingers uncurled from her blouse. "It was very nice to meet you, Sybok." Shifting, she placed him on the ground, taking the time to get down to his level. "Please don't run into the street again. I would be very upset."
Did he know what being upset was? Would he care? Amanda had read that Vulcans didn't lack emotion, they just suppressed them. How young did that begin?
"I apologize for my behavior." Sybok held his hands primly in front of himself. It seemed this was a posture and a statement he had experience with. The ruins of her communicator caught his gaze, and he bent to retrieve the pieces, his little fingers wrapping with surprising deftness around jagged carbon fiber before he handed the bits over to her. "I also apologize for the destruction of your property."
"Oh sweetie." Amanda was impulsive at the best of times and now was no different as she bent forward to wrap the tiny Vulcan into a hug. "I'm just glad I caught you. You matter so much more than a piece of technology."
A disgruntled sound came from the Vulcan standing over her, causing Amanda to look up at him with a glare. His gaze spoke volumes for how much he disapproved of her contact with the child, which she knew she should feel worse for. Sybok was this man's son. He should be able to decide how he was treated. It wasn't Amanda's place to know better. But the way those little fingers curled into her once again broke her heart.
Giving him another squeeze, Amanda finally stood, running her hands down her shirt to smooth the fabric, before extending a hand to the grump standing before her. "Amanda Grayson," she offered by way of introduction, "I teach elementary school a couple of blocks over." She tested her oft-winning smile, hoping that it, along with the knowledge she spent most of her time around children, would thaw the chill currently radiating off the greying Vulcan.
It didn't.
His gaze shifted from being disapproving in the direction of her face, to disapproving at the hand that was still held, empty, between them. Right, Vulcans, touch. Laughing lightly at herself, she curled her fingers back in slowly, before dropping her arm to her side. An arm that now felt very strange because she didn't often spend time thinking about what she did with it, but all she could currently think of was how she was holding it.
"My name is Kavor." With expert and crisp movements, he bent to adjust the folds of Sybok's tunic, before brushing fingers over the boy's hair. The transformation was quick, and to Amanda a little painful. The renegade she'd caught barreling into the road had been replaced with what looked to be a tiny adult. "I extend my thanks that you have prevented him from injury." He straightened, apparently not finished. "However, in future, it would be wise if you restrained yourself from touching Vulcan children."
A flush rose to Amanda's cheeks at those words, and she felt her shoulders straighten. It was well within his rights, of course, and sure she'd been a bit effusive, but he didn't need to be cruel. Or maybe that was just normal for Vulcans.
"I apologize." Resting her fingers on her clavicle, Amanda lowered her head slightly, flashing a wink at Sybok as she did so. "However, in future," she drawled, "it may be wise to keep better hold of your son. I have a feeling he won't be behaving better any time soon."
"He is not my child, merely my charge." Came the clipped reply. Amanda wouldn't say he was angry, because y'know emotions, but he certainly wasn't pleased with either her or the boy beside him who was beginning to shift foot to foot.
"Ah." Amanda felt laughter bubble up in her chest at that revelation. She didn't know why and managed to suppress it, but the amusement still lingered. "Well, he seems well enough, and now that I am certain he is in good hands, I will be on my way." She smiled down at Sybok once more, but the little boy who'd been in her arms only moments ago had been banished away by propriety and order.
He held up his tiny hand, separating his fingers in a movement she knew from her university texts. With a wide grin, she mimicked his movement for a moment before wiggling her fingers at him in a wave. "Live long and prosper little one." Kavor turned without speaking to herd Sybok down the street, the boy turning back to look at her every few steps before he was corrected.
She remained, staring after him for a moment after he turned down another avenue, the pair of them vanishing from her view. A sigh escaped her lips before Amanda shook her head and looked down at the broken communicator in her hand. Totally worth it.