Star Trek XI -- "Valentine's Day, 2236"
Feb. 22nd, 2011 04:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
writers_islandmostly Sarek/Amanda, implied Jim/Spock
a sequel (prequel?) of sorts to Out of Character
(it's all![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
terry_angell's fault)
"It is Valentine’s Day, beloved."
Valentine's Day, 2236 | G | 383 words | complete
Spock is six years old (six years, three months, twelve days...) and he knows many things. He knows the periodic table and the first thousand primes and three languages. He knows Shozhaf’s Third Fugue on his ka'athyra and all of Mozart’s piano sonatas. He knows the other children do not like him and that his mother loves him, and he is...content.
He does not know why his father is home today, a day not unlike any other. He spies his parents seated in the meditation garden, a plate of cut fruit between them. Father has a red berry of some type in his hand, and is holding it to Mother’s mouth. Mother smiles and takes the fruit, chewing and swallowing while Spock considers why his father is touching food with his fingers. Not even infants are so gauche.
Father wipes his fingers on a napkin. “Wife, I must return to the embassy at this time,” he says, reaching for a large, flat box on the bench beside him. “But I wish to present you with a gift, which I hope you will do me the honor of wearing when we attend the opera this evening.”
“Sarek, you shouldn’t have,” Mother says, but she takes the box anyway.
“It is Valentine’s Day, beloved,” Father says simply, and Spock wonders at the unfamiliar word. Meanwhile, Mother is opening the box and lifting out the shoulders of an garment. “It is a Terran kimono, an outer garment that I believe can be worth with traditional Vulcan layers. Its color complements your complexion.”
“It’s beautiful,” Mother says, folding it back into the box and stroking one hand over the fabric. “Thank you.”
Father stands and then bends to press his mouth to Mother’s forehead in a gesture Spock does not understand. “I will return this evening. I love you, Amanda.”
Spock wonders at Father’s strange behavior. He wonders at the rising red color in Mother’s cheeks. He wonders at the meaning of this “Valentine’s Day”. And then he wanders into the garden to inquire after lunch.
*
Spock ends the mind meld and is greeted by Jim’s smiling face. “Your parents were so cute,” Jim says.
Spock frowns ever so slightly. “My father can be described many ways, Jim, but ‘cute’ is not one of them.”
Feedback is better than Valentine's Day chocolate.
a sequel (prequel?) of sorts to Out of Character
(it's all
terry_angell's fault)"It is Valentine’s Day, beloved."
Valentine's Day, 2236 | G | 383 words | complete
Spock is six years old (six years, three months, twelve days...) and he knows many things. He knows the periodic table and the first thousand primes and three languages. He knows Shozhaf’s Third Fugue on his ka'athyra and all of Mozart’s piano sonatas. He knows the other children do not like him and that his mother loves him, and he is...content.
He does not know why his father is home today, a day not unlike any other. He spies his parents seated in the meditation garden, a plate of cut fruit between them. Father has a red berry of some type in his hand, and is holding it to Mother’s mouth. Mother smiles and takes the fruit, chewing and swallowing while Spock considers why his father is touching food with his fingers. Not even infants are so gauche.
Father wipes his fingers on a napkin. “Wife, I must return to the embassy at this time,” he says, reaching for a large, flat box on the bench beside him. “But I wish to present you with a gift, which I hope you will do me the honor of wearing when we attend the opera this evening.”
“Sarek, you shouldn’t have,” Mother says, but she takes the box anyway.
“It is Valentine’s Day, beloved,” Father says simply, and Spock wonders at the unfamiliar word. Meanwhile, Mother is opening the box and lifting out the shoulders of an garment. “It is a Terran kimono, an outer garment that I believe can be worth with traditional Vulcan layers. Its color complements your complexion.”
“It’s beautiful,” Mother says, folding it back into the box and stroking one hand over the fabric. “Thank you.”
Father stands and then bends to press his mouth to Mother’s forehead in a gesture Spock does not understand. “I will return this evening. I love you, Amanda.”
Spock wonders at Father’s strange behavior. He wonders at the rising red color in Mother’s cheeks. He wonders at the meaning of this “Valentine’s Day”. And then he wanders into the garden to inquire after lunch.
Spock ends the mind meld and is greeted by Jim’s smiling face. “Your parents were so cute,” Jim says.
Spock frowns ever so slightly. “My father can be described many ways, Jim, but ‘cute’ is not one of them.”
Feedback is better than Valentine's Day chocolate.
