Beamed Out
Author: Amanda Grayson
Code: Sarek, Amanda, Spock
Series: TOS
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Star Trek et al is owned by
Summary: In a journal entry, Amanda remembers an embarrassing incident
from her son’s childhood.
Notes: This story was inspired by a list challenge where the given
scenario was "little Spock streaking nude through the neighbourhood".
While I did not keep to those exact parameters, I hope it still adheres to
the spirit. Thanks go to my son,
Stardate 3842.3:
Sarek was rather put out with me after the reception
tonight. He says that I embarrassed Spock in front of his
colleagues. Perhaps a little embarrassment is good for him.
The ship’s doctor, McCoy, asked me if Spock ran and played, even in
secret. Of course, this question let me know how ignorant
Outworlders are of Vulcan culture, but I couldn’t help myself. ‘He
did have a pet sehlat he was rather fond of.’ And I added, ‘It’s
sort of a fat teddy bear.’ Dr. McCoy clearly found this amusing and
starting ribbing Spock about it. But Sarek led me away and then came
the admonishment. I did not argue with him—but there are so many more
embarrassing incidents and anecdotes I could have related.
Sarek has forgotten—or perhaps he hasn’t—what a little hellion Spock used
to be. He did indeed keep us on our toes. And it’s such a contrast
from what
he’s become.
I remember one time… Spock was very young—about eighteen months
old. At that time, we were stationed on Gohlis Prime and living in
the Embassy. It was full of stuffy Vulcans and protocols and while Sarek
can be much more relaxed in private, around others he often goes into
‘superVulcan mode.’ This was especially true on Gohlis.
The situation exacerbated by the fact that most of his colleagues did not
approve of his marriage to a Terran, although this was unspoken, and Spock
was regarded as something of a mongrel.
Although he would have blatantly denied it, and I never challenged him on it, Sarek’s stress level was quite high. Not only was he feeling pressure from his staff, the situation on Gohlis itself was not the most relaxed. The planet was not yet a member of the Federation and factions there resented our presence. Of course, we were solely representing Vulcan’s interests, but that distinction seemed lost on the Gohlisians. There had not yet been any outright violence, Sarek would never have allowed Spock and I to accompany him had there been, but there were frequent protests outside the Embassy, some of them quite vocal.
Into all this tension, insert one Terran and one, rather exuberant, half
Vulcan toddler. It was an interesting mix, to say the least.
As I’ve already mentioned, Spock was regarded as somewhat inferior, a
theory not borne out by observation. He was really no different
from other Vulcan infants I’d encountered, and he certainly did not appear
any different. It was merely the perception of those around
him. Sarek’s staff did not approve of me, so they did not approve of our child.
They looked for any sign of inferiority and because they were looking,
they often found it. Although this was bigoted and highly illogical,
it impacted Sarek and he was almost impossible to live with.
I found myself playing the ‘perfect Vulcan wife’ whether I wanted to or
not. Of course, Sarek also wanted the ‘perfect Vulcan son.’ But
Spock wasn’t cooperating. At that age, he was very energetic.
Unlike some of the other Vulcan children at the Embassy, he was short on
patience and long on action. He had difficulty sitting still unless there
was food involved and if food was involved, it had better come sooner rather
than later. Mealtimes were short for Spock. He often finished quicker
than we did and began squirming and crying in his seat. I compensated by
letting him down and allowing him to run around and play in our apartments
while we finished our meal. Sarek did not always approve of
this and it did make Spock more difficult to handle in more formal settings.
And, like most human babies, the hour or two before sleep was
distinguished by bursts of hyperactivity, as though all the excess energy
of the day had to be burned off before sleep could come.
Once a week, the entire Embassy staff met together for endmeal. This
communal dining ritual is an ancient custom, dating all the way back to Surak
and the time of the Reforms. Originally, it had religious
connotations, but now it was more about coming together. For people far
from home, the custom became almost essential. It helped to
reinforce Vulcan culture and educate the children. And in a tense
situation, like the one on Gohlis, it also served to solidify the group.
For Sarek however, this was not a time of relaxation. As Vulcan’s
representative, he always felt he had to be the epitome of Vulcan beliefs
and culture, especially around others. Of course, his family was included
in this, but, as I’ve said, Spock was not cooperating and I began to dread
these weekly meals. Spock could never live up to his father’s
expectations—which were unreasonable. (Much hasn’t changed, I
suppose.)
On this particular day, Spock seemed especially ‘wound up.’ Our
normal routine had been disrupted by diplomatic forays that required the
family presence. I could tell that Spock was relieved when our
ground transport finally pulled into the Embassy gates and he was free to
run around the grounds and play. He was not happy to learn that
it was Communion night. He fussed and cried when I picked him up and
took him to our apartments and he continued to do so as I changed his
clothes and got him ready for the meal. He didn’t want to wear what I had selected
of course—a pair of royal blue shortalls. But he finally settled down when
I allowed him to take one of his favourite toys. We met Sarek in the communal
dining hall. He was not pleased to see his son dressed somewhat
informally and with a toy in his hand. I felt like telling him to jump
out an airlock, that babies should not be held to adult standards, but I greeted
him with the ta’al and let it go.
As Ambassador, Sarek was designated the leader of the community, and hence
the leader of the Communion ceremony. Of course this also meant
that he and his family sat at the head table, on display, along with the
healer and his family.
I put Spock in his chair and readied him for the long string of prayers
and rituals that would precede the actual meal. I glanced quickly
at T’Ri, the healer’s wife. Her children were quietly seated, in order,
all pressed and dressed, as it were. On Earth, we would call them
‘stair step’ children, but that term didn’t quite apply to the way Vulcans propagated.
Still, there they were, the intervals between children
perfectly—rhythmic.
‘As it was in the dawn of our days,’ Sarek intoned.
This began the Communion. Spock was very familiar with this ceremony, which helped a bit. At least he knew when the meal would come. Of course, that was the easiest part. It was more of a challenge to entertain a small child who already knew most of the Communion from memory and wanted to ‘sing along.’
At last, however, we did get to eat. As Spock plowed into the herbed curds, T’Vey, the healer’s youngest child, watched him with interest. She was about four. ‘He is very hungry tonight,’ she observed.
‘Yes, indeed,’ I agreed, spooning more redroot onto Spock’s
plate.
‘Mother gives me flatbread beforehand so I can wait,’ she stated, hoping
this might be helpful for next time.
I squelched the urge to bristle at the condescension evident in her tone
and reminded myself that she was just a child. I smiled instead.
‘We had to attend the Mid-Continental Conference this afternoon,’ I
explained. ‘There was barely time to get back and prepare.’
‘Oh,’ she said and turned back to her dinner. I wondered if who
she pitied more, me or Sarek.
At last Spock had eaten his fill and had begun to squirm. ‘Down,
Meera,’ he demanded. ‘Down now.’
‘Spock, Communion is not over,’ I reminded him.
‘Down NOW,’ he repeated.
Children are universally savvy creatures. They always seem to
know when they have you in a non-negotiable situation. It was either deal
with a Vulcan temper tantrum—and they can be quite formidable—or let Spock
out of his chair. I opted to let him down. Communion meal was not
the time for a lesson on limits. He immediately ran off and I
relaxed for a moment, knowing that he would be safe in the Embassy.
I turned my focus back to the ceremony. The meal was ending and Sarek
stood, elevating the Cup of Surak before him, about to intone the Blessing
that would end this Communion, when Spock suddenly re-entered the hall, at
top speed and completely nude. He was laughing as he ran, his genitalia
wagging proudly.
Needless to say, the Blessing was delayed.
The silence was heavy as everyone in the room was completely focused on my
nude, halfling son. I got up, clamping down hard on my laughter and
grabbed Spock as fast as I could. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Sarek,
dark with emotion he was quickly controlling.
I rushed Spock out of the dining hall and into the corridor and there I
saw it—Spock’s clothes on the floor, intact, diaper and all. It looked
as though someone had simply beamed him out of his clothes. I started laughing
and went over to pick up the outfit, still holding a squirming Spock in my
arms. ‘How did you get out of these?’ I asked.
Spock just looked at me and laughed.
To this day, I still don’t know how he got out of his clothes like
that. But it certainly livened up Communion meal and reminded me
that a little embarrassment is good for the soul. Although I don’t think
Sarek ever saw it like that.