Hic-hic-hiccups

Hi, guys! This is the author speaking. I didn't want to try and explain this all in Spock vernacular so you can get it in plain English.
These next couple of posts are some pre written stories I did awhile ago about the adorable duo Spock and Bridget. B didn't have a name at this point, so that's why she is adressed as 'The girl' or 'friend'  The timeline for these are a little sporadic and this particular story is based on them being about 8-10 years of age.  Aunt Faye is a new character for you guys, and she is just the Aunt that the two live with. (Even logical Vulcans need parentl supervision to avoid messes of unfathomable disaster.) Or so I've heard. So that's who she is Oh, and since I am illogically paranoid, Spock is not mine, despite his adorable self that I wish could be. He belongs to Gene Rodenberry and all those other lucky people. All other characters and plot lines are my own creation. Please don't use them without asking me first.   I hope you like reading these as much as I've loved writing them.  Now, I think I've taken up enough space in their little universe, don't you? 



“Spock, what are you doing?”


The girl looked down at the boy sitting upside down on the couch.

“I am trying to find a cure.”

“For what?”

“I have the hic-I have hic-

“You have what?” The girl grinned.

“Synchronous- hic- diaph- hic- diaphragmatic- hic, hic…

“The hiccups?”

“Yeah,” he grinned sheepishly.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“I-hic- told you.” Spock said, bending backwards and standing up. “I am trying to find a cure.”

“How?”

“By exploring all the urban legends.”

“What urban legends?”

“There is no cure for- hic- that. There is just a collection of supposed cures so I am going to- hic- try all of them.”

“Can I help?” the girl asked, curious.

“Alright,”

“What’s next?”

“Eating-hic- sugar. Do you have any?”

“I think so, it’s in the kitchen. We’ll have to be quite, Aunt Faye doesn’t want us in there.”

He nodded and they walked quietly into the kitchen. Getting out the sugar bowl and a spoon. The girl looked at the sugar before getting out a second spoon. “I should try it too.”

He grinned and carefully took a small bite of the sugar before making a face, “It’s sweet.”

“Yeah, its’ sugar,” the girl said, taking a heaping spoonful, “What did you expect?”

“I am not sure.”

The girl shrugged and put her spoon back in the bowl for more.

Spock did the same, but with less enthusiasm.

“Well, did it work?”

“Hic- no. It does not appear to be so.”

“So what next? Don’t you drink water or something?”

He nodded, “Yes,”

“Great, try that now.”

He hopped off the counter and filled a glass with water, hiccupping quietly. The girl watched as he took a small sip.

“And?”

He shook his head.

“Aren’t you supposed to drink it from the far side of the glass?” she tilted her head to one side.

“The far side?” Spock looked at the glass, “Is that even possible?”

“I guess it is. Why don’t you try it?”

He gave her a skeptical look before bending his head to drink from the opposite end. He jerked his head back quickly.

“That does-hic- does not work.” He spluttered, wiping water from his hair.

The girl laughed, taking another bite of sugar, “Do it again! This is fun.”

He glared at her before breaking his gaze as he started hiccupping again. This made her laugh harder.

“Well now what?” he asked her crossly.

“I can try scaring you? That’s supposed to work.”

“You can’t scare me.” He folded his arms.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes,”

“What about the ladybugs?” she smirked.

He frowned at her look, “They are not indigenous to my planet. I find them disturbing.”

She rolled her eyes, “Right,”

“Well-hic- since you are out of options, I am going to go and- hic- read.”

“What about finding your cure?” she asked.

“I will see to it later.” he turned and left the room.

She shrugged and went back to eating spoonfuls of sugar. She had to go to a ballet class and didn’t see Spock again until an hour later. She knocked quietly on his bedroom door before entering after there was no answer.

“Spock? Are you in here?”

“I am here.” The voice came from around the corner and she peered around before stopping short.

“What are you doing?”

“Hic- despairing.”

“Why?”

“Because-hic- I cannot rid myself of this annoying-hic- irritation and if it does not leave then I will shatter my diaphragm and die.”

“And you know this how?”

Without even looking from the position he had of being sprawled across his bed, he pointed at a book lying on the floor. “Page thirty-seven.”

She opened to the page and read, closing the book with a snap, “Well, I guess you’re right. You’re going to die. Can I have your telescope when you’re dead?”

He sat up on his elbows, looking shocked, “You cannot be serious.”

“Yep,” she plopped down on his bed. “I am.”

“But… but what about the sentimental side of humans?” he stuttered, “Aren’t you supposed to offer condolences or something similar?”

“Hm, are we? I must have missed the memo. Now, about your telescope, you better show me how to work it before you die. And who do you want at your funeral? Your Vulcan side or your human side? ‘Cause I don’t know if they would all get along together.”

“Stop it!” he covered his head with a pillow, “I don’t want to hear anymore.”

She grinned at his covered head, “Well? Did it work?”

He sat up, puzzled. “Did what work?”

“Did I scare you? Are your hiccups gone?”

He paused before shaking his head, his hair all messed up from the static on the pillow case, “It appears they are gone.”

She smirked at him.

He started to smile before frowning at her, “That was not very nice.”

She shrugged, “Too bad, it worked.”

His eyes widened, “You are right! We found the cure!”

She grinned at him and he shook her hand enthusiastically, “This is wonderful! The sciences will be changed now! This will greatly influence mankind now that we know the cure. This is fantastic! It’s.. it’s…

Hic.

Devilish Felines

With all that has been happening in my Earth visit, I've had to find a better place to chronicle all my findings. My chronicler, No Ordinary Mind has placed my research and other adventures on another website.  She goes under the pseudonym Spockologist which I find to be slightly melodramatic, but it was her choice. To read more of her stories, I have included the location of their archives here 

But enough business matters. I have a story for you. One involving that satanic feline my friend insists on keeping around. I loathe the creature. Its green eyes watching every move from the corners of dusty bookshelves is enough to drive anyone mad. But the cat finally got its comeuppance and I got my revenge.  Cats are not fond of water, and for that I cannot blame them.  I was rinsing the dishes and putting them in their peculiar old fashioned Maytag dishwasher, when the cat jumped up on the door of the dishwasher and meowed loudly.

Seeing my chance, I looked around carefully before quickly closing the door and trapping the protesting cat inside.  That would keep her occupied while I tried to finish a paper I was writing on.  (To be fair, she had been bothering me, and I was getting less than patient.)  So planning on coming back after finishing my essay, I would open the door and release the humbled, but still miserable creature.


I had not been planning on Bridget starting the dishwasher.


A few hours later, we were in the kitchen preparing dinner when a pitiful sound came from the dishwasher.
I instantly paled as I remembered the creature trapped inside.  Bridget gave me a curious look and opened the door as a wet ball of fur came flying out and streaked across the room to hide under the couch.

It took plenty of coaxing, several towels, copious amounts of entreating and caressing before the small cat finally allowed my friend to pick her up.   I wish my treatment had been similar.

I was not aware that shutting a cat inside the dishwasher was not only illogical, but mean and could have killed the 'poor little dear.'  So I was given several glares, an order to never do that again and the punishment of fixing dinner by myself.

As I walked into the kitchen, the cat stalked past me, tail waving and gave me such a look, that I know that won't be the last I hear of this incident.

One should never trust devilish felines.

Scary movies II

The power went out.
That was probably the first clue.

Some girls gave a little scream as the screen on the t.v. went blank and the room was plunged into darkness.

Having a sneaking suspicion of whose fault it was, I rose from my chair. "I'll go see what happened."

Kirk opened the door at my knock and leaned nonchalantly against the door frame.  "Well hello, Bridget. What are you looking for?"

I gave him a dry look. "The power. Turn it back on."

Kirk feigned surprise, making his blue eyes go wide. "What makes you think we had anything to do with it?"

"I think you had everything to do with it. Turn. It. On."

He grinned at me and quickly closed the door.

I waited outside the door for a few minutes before pounding on it. "Kirk! Knock it off! I want the power back on or I want you out, do you understand me?"

He opened the door again, "Ouch, I'm hurt. You really don't want me here?"

"Lights. On."

"Fine, fine..." he closed the door and a few seconds later the power went back on.

"Thank you!" I called through the door as I headed down the stairs.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." was his muffled reply.


We made it another twenty minutes into the movie when Kirk came strolling down the stair, whistling.

"Kirk! What on earth do you want?!"

"Vulcan,"  I heard a voice upstairs correct. "It is what on Vulcan."

I rolled my eyes.

Kirk weaved across the room, stepping over pillows and flopping down on the couch beside me. "What's up?"

"Your time here." I shoved him, "Go away."

He rose and walked towards the kitchen, "Do you have any food?"

"Help yourself." I grumbled.

"Thank you."

He walked back in with a bag of chips and sat back down. "So whatcha watching?"
"A scary movie. You're too much of a girl to handle it."

"You're really mean, you know that?"

I shrugged.

"If it's a scary movie.... maybe I should be here. You know. Your shoulder to cry on, someone to protect you." his grin was quickly smothered by a pillow.

"Spock! You get him out of here!"

Spock appeared at the top of the landing and he tilted his head slightly, "Is something wrong?"

"You. Two. Out. Don't come back until the movie's over. Got it?"

"Car..." Kirk began.

"Take mine!" the words were barely out of my mouth before Kirk had jumped up and grabbed the keys and Spock had ran down the stairs, jumping the last three.  Kirk gave a little wave and they slammed the door quickly.

"What was that?"  Katie turned and asked me.

I rolled my eyes. "Captain James T. Kirk and his brilliant first officer who couldn't wait for their chance to escape."

Scary movies

"Ok, Spock. My friends are coming over in an hour and you're not going to bug us, got it?"

He arched an eyebrow, "Me bother you? Wouldn't it be just the opposite?"

I rolled my eyes, "Whatever. We're going to be downstairs watching movies, you can hang out upstairs."
"How nice."

"Isn't it? Now go away."

He shrugged and went upstairs.

I finished straightening the living room just before the doorbell rang. I ran to open the door, "Hey-" I paused, "'Kirk? What are you doing here?"

The blonde young man gave me one of his teasing smiles, "That isn't a very nice hello. Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Sure..." I held the door open so he could walk in.

"Thanks," he walked in and looked around.

Spock came down the stairs, with the apparent air of someone hiding something.

"Hey, Spock! I got your message." Kirk grinned.

"What message?" I asked, thoroughly confused.

"It doesn't concern you." Spock told me, "Besides, we are 'not to bother you', correct?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Then we won't."

They turned and headed up the stairs.

"You guys better not be planning anything! Spock, you hear me? Don't listen to Kirk and his wild ideas!"

Spock grinned before closing the door.

I rolled my eyes, sighing. But then the doorbell rang again and I pushed Kirk and Spock out my mind.

The house was soon filled with the noise of happy chattering as my friends came in.

"What should we watch first?" I asked as soon as everyone was seated.

"Something scary!" Megan shouted.

"Any objections?" I questioned.

No answer.

"Ok, scary movie it is." I searched through the piles of DVDs before finding one and putting it in.

We dimmed the lights and were watching the commercials when I heard voices from upstairs.  Kirk and Spock were talking about something. Kirk sounded incredibly amused.

"Oooh, whose that?" Katie asked me, giving me a sly smile.

"My obnoxious friend and some buddy of his. I don't know what they're doing."

"Is this same friend the one I met before? With the oh- so- serious look?"

"Yeah, that would be him."

"And his friend?"

"What about him?"

"Is he cute?"

"I guess so. He's just Kirk."

My friend's giggled, their eyes darting to the door.

"Sh! Let's watch the movie!" I interjected, "We can go bug them later."

They quieted down as the movie began. Leaning forward slightly as the creepy music played and the plot deepened.

The great soda experiment

I walked into the kitchen humming to myself only to stop and do a double take,
"What on Earth are you doing?"

Spock didn't look up from writing in a note book,

"The correct terminology would be 'what on Vulcan' but I will forgive you this time. As to what I am doing....
This time he glanced at me, "Isn't it obvious?"

I looked around;  various drinking glasses were lined in a neat row with containers of soda behind them.

"Having a drinking party?"

He gave me a withering glare, "No."

"Then please," I said sitting down in front of him, "Enlighten me."

"I am so glad you asked."  He grinned mischievously.

"Have you ever noticed that carbonated soda will bubble and overflow?"

I nodded.

"Well, I was wondering if depending on what kind of soda you use, if that would alter the speed and amount at which the carbonation rises. I also wondered if at different heights the carbonated liquid would change.
Will it rise as much if you pour it from a great height verses a low one? How does that change the bubbling content?"

I stared at him, "Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"You're crazy! It's just soda! And I wanted that for my party this weekend!"

"Oh.." he paused, "I'm sorry about that, I'll buy you some more. And why didn't I hear about this party?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Because," I stuttered, "A bunch of girl friends of mine are coming over to...."

He nodded, giving me a knowing glance, "George Clooney, Christopher Reeves or Harrison Ford?"

I felt my face blush at how well he knew me. "None of the above. We're going to watch scary movies instead."

He shrugged, "Don't blame me when you can't sleep at night. Why do you like those things anyway?"

"I don't know... their fun."

"Fear is fun?"

"Augh, I don't know! Would you rather have a bunch of girls screaming in terror or sobbing and giggling over some cute actor?"

He thought for a second, "The first option."

"I thought so."

He went back to doing his 'experiment'.  Taking one of the bottles, he stood up on a chair and began to pour it into a glass.
"What kind of scary movies do you watch anyway? I mean-hold that will you?- they seem ludicrous."

I steadied the glass for him as he carefully poured it in. "Don't you like feeling scared just for fun?"

He gave me a blank look and stepped down from the chair in answer.

He looked at the results of his experiment. "It appears to foam instead of bubble when poured from a greater height. Fascinating."

"You are such a nerd." I said sighing and standing up, "Tell me when you're done."

He waved a hand in response, "Understood."

Two hours later,  I went back into check on him, "You've been awfully quiet, what have you been doing?"

He had cleaned up the kitchen and was sitting in an arm chair looking slightly guilty.

"Nothing."

"I thought you were 'experimenting'."

"I was."

"Well? What happened?"

He sighed, "You seriously didn't hear anything?"

"No...."

"No crashing sounds of any kind?"

I gave him a glare, "What did you do?"

"Did you happen to have any sentimental connections to a certain blue and white glass?"

"You broke it?"

"Possibly."

"And?! Where is it?"

He gave a sheepish grin and walked over to the counter and moved a bowl.  Behind it I saw a  half reassembled glass.
"I'm sorry. I'll try and fix it."

"That's ok."  It was kind of sweet how apologetic he looked, "You really tried to fix it?"

He shrugged.

"Carbonated soda explodes easily. Don't ask about your kitchen towels."

With that he gave one last jaunty grin and left the room.

Role Playing

I was sitting on the couch with my laptop trying to work but kept getting distracted.  Spock was sitting at the dining room table, bent over a book and muttering to himself.

I tried to block it out and focus on writing, but it wasn't working.

"Would you stop that!?"

"Stop what?" he looked up, confused.

"You're talking to yourself!"

"I am not! I am simply reading aloud."

"Can't you do it in your head?"

He sighed, "I will try."

"Thank you." 

Things were quiet for a few minutes and I was happily typing away when he started again.

I gave him my best glare,"Spock you're doing it again!"

He gave me a patient look, one he does when trying not to look annoyed,
"My apologies, reading Latin is not something easily done."

"You read Latin? I thought you were muttering spells."

He smirked. "My knowledge does not lean into witchcraft. The whole 'flying on a broomstick' this is ludicrous."

"Oh really?" I gave him one of my sweetest smiles, "And I always thought you would look so cute in a pointed hat."

He gave me a glare. "You are exasperating."

"You are impossible."

He gave one last look at his book before closing it and coming over to sit across from me.

"You've won my attention, now what do you desire?"

I scooted over for him to sit down, "I didn't want your attention! I wanted you to stop talking to yourself. Hey, that reminds me, why do you talk like that?"

"To what are you referring?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Like that! This isn't the 18th century."

He shrugged, "I do not know."

I sat up, "Let's switch, I'll talk like you and you have to talk like me, ok?"

He nodded, with a rather unsure look.

"Ok," I breathed, sitting up straight and narrowing my eyes,  "My knowledge of Latin is so superior, I make Harry Potter look like a dimwit."

I squinted at him; he was trying really hard not to laugh.

"That was... that was a startling attempt."

"No!" I shouted, "You have to talk- I mean, communicate like me!"

He sighed, then giving an exaggerated eye roll, "That was like, the most awful thing I have like ever seen."

I hit him with the pillow I was holding, "I am not a valley girl!"

He held up a defensive arm to block any further attacks, "Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure!" I hit him again, "Take it back!"

"No." He grinned at me.

"Fine." I said scooting away from him, "I'm going to try again, ready? This is going to be good."

He raised an eyebrow, "Thrill me."

I tried giving my best gravely serious look, "Why do they say things are 'homemade'? A home cannot make something."

He pondered this, "Why do they?"

"Arrgh! That's not the point! How did I do?"

He was still thinking the question over, "Hm... I would give you a seven. That is a very interesting point you have brought up, but your facial expression was not accurate."

"How would you know?" I retaliated, "Do you practice in the mirror?"

"No." He grinned at me.

"Uh huh. I believe you. Now what did I do wrong?"

He moved closer, "You have to get this bored look on your face." he demonstrated, making his eyes darken into an intensely bored expression.

"Please don't tell me this is how you feel all the time." I said, trying to mimic him.

He shrugged, "Now you have to look slightly interested," his eyes flickered.

"This is not natural! How am I supposed to do this?"

"Just try. Now, you have to slightly arch your eyebrow."

I tried, but started laughing, "I can't do it!'

"No, that was close, try again."

I pictured all the raised eyebrow looks he'd given me and then tried it.

"Good job!" He looked pleased,  "Except you need to make this part higher."

He reached and with one finger slowly ran it over my eyebrow as I tried arching it higher.

He lowered his hand, "Perfect. You resemble a slightly pained Vulcan. Kudos to you."

I hit him with the pillow again,  "Oh, thank you. Someone in pain is exactly what I want to look like. We can't all practice that look in the mirror."

He gave a mischievous grin.
"You wish."

Mission: Fascinating II

He found it.
I expected a bigger reaction though.... hm. I'll have to try something else.  And why is he still letting me put this on here? Let's just say blackmail is... an appropriate stimulator.
Now, for how he found out:

I was sitting on my dining room table, (Yes, on.) eating a bowl of ice cream and trying really hard not to look guilty. I was staring over Spock's shoulder who happened to be sitting next to me. (Not on the table though, I can't convince him that it's better than a chair)  I was watching him doodle math equations on a paper. At least, it looked like doodling. I'm not sure.
He had said very little all day and I was beginning to have the sneaking suspicion that he knew and was simply waiting for me to crack.

I would never crack! Ever! He'd have to drag it out of me!

Or so my thoughts were when he asked,
"Do you always insist on reading over my shoulder?"

Except, I thought he said something else.

"Ok I did it! I'm sorry! I couldn't help it!"

"Did what?"  he looked confused.  "I know you suffer from that bizarre infatuation with George Clooney, but I honestly don't care if you watched the movies again."

I felt my face turn red. That's a topic we don't talk about.

I laughed nervously. "Hahah, right. The movies...."

He shrugged and went back to doodling. "You really should learn to relax. All that ice cream you eat can't be good for you."

He didn't notice the glare I gave him. He was going to play the innocent, sympathetic card, hoping to get me to confess.

It worked.
.... Sort of.

"So...." I said, trying to change the subject. "Whatcha doing?"

He looked at me like it was obvious. "Mathematical equations."

"Oh." Math wasn't really my thing.

I decided to test the waters and see how much he knew.
"Besides math and all that science junk, do you do any writing?"

"The occasional discourse when the need arises."  he said, scribbling something on the paper.

"Hm..." I nodded. "You don't do like a science journal, or something? Dear Abby columns?"

He put the pen down and gave me a look. "Is there something you want to talk about?"

"No! I mean... I was just wondering."

"You're not a very good liar." 

The one time he was more interested in conversation than math and it had to be about me.

"What do you mean by that?" I tried to play innocent.

"You've turned an interesting shade of red and your eyes look  like their hiding something."

Thank you, Captain obvious.

I decided to play tactful.

"What would you say if someone, hypothetically, wrote something on a certain, hypothetical blog?"

His eyes narrowed, "I would say, hypothetically, that this person better be joking or else they meet a certain  hypothetical doom."

"But what about mercy? Forgive the sinner!"

"So is this the 'sinners' attempt at repentance?" he has the creepy ability to make his voice impassive and sarcastic.

"Possibly. Would you forgive them?"

"Would they apologize first for their legal error of intruding on private property and vow never to do it again?"

He should have been a lawyer.

"Yes.  I- I mean, 'the sinner' apologizes and promises never to do it again. Unless, pressured otherwise under the circumstance of absolute need."

"That's not what I said."

"Well, that's what you get." I stuck my tongue out at him.

"But you can't. I have the password."

"Maybe I changed it." I felt pretty confident with that.

"You know I could mind meld that from you."

Crap.
He made a sudden movement to grab my head and I screamed and jumped off the table, running for the living room.

"Use your powers for good!"

That stopped him. He started laughing really hard.
I wasn't sure if that was another ploy or not, so I stood far away from him.
"You're  not.... mad at me are you?"

He stopped. "Why would I be? It was all merely hypothetical wasn't it?"

"About that...."

Mission: Fascinating

Ha! And he said that he was really working on 'complicated math theories' when in reality it was to be writing a blog to heavens knows who.

Spock, a blog? Really?  I expected something more of you, a scientific journal perhaps.

Yes, the mysterious 'Friend' as I have been so called has accidentally *Cough* stumbled across this blog while searching her friend's room in his absence for her  missing Billy Joel CD. 

And now... perhaps I shall divulge the deepest secrets of this young Vulcan's mind! 
Hm... nah, the fact that he steals my Billy Joel CD is probably shocking enough to the minds of those who have no idea what he's really like.

For example: On our way to some event which I can't remember, he bought my bus fare (I didn't have a car at the time)  when I told him how sweet it was, he simply commented that he had heard such things were said to make girls blush and he wanted to see my reaction for proof.  -So don't believe him if he tries the whole charming gentleman thing.

He probably has you fooled with the whole "Impassive Vulcan" thing too.
Not true. Whenever he goes on one his bizarre science theories, he doesn't sleep for weeks and wanders around the house in his pajamas muttering to himself. And if you ask him a question, he doesn't answer but starts talking animatedly with huge eyes in some type of nerd vernacular about the latest break through he's discovered involving quantum theory and element X. I would call that passive. And don't call him a nerd. It's not nice.

Instead of sharing the... interesting stories I have about him. I will list 12 things that will help you get a better idea of what he's really like.  Be warned, be scared and know that you might never look at him (or me, for that matter) the same way again.

So here we go...

1. It is possible to look amused and grave at the same time. He's quite capable of it.

2. He has a very random fear of roller coasters and refuses to ride one with the excuse that they are not "Logical."

3. He doesn't stop to think before giving one of his profound speeches. You'd think he was quoting the encyclopedia.

4.He hates I mean hates the Brady bunch T.V. show. If you start singing the theme, he glares at you with this look of utter contempt. So don't sing it.  Repeatedly. In different voices. Including Pee Wee Herman's.

5. He reads over my shoulder and has the nerve to tell me to turn the page when he finishes first.

6. He's cute. He just is ok!? There, I said it. And he's an excellent dancer. Think modern Mr. Darcy.

7. He doesn't understand our library's organizational system. I have tried time and time again to explain it to him, but he doesn't get it.

8. You can trick him into watching Chick flicks if you tell him it will unlock valuable information to the female brain.

9. He has a thing for girls with Auburn hair. Like the girl who works at the library.... Oh. Maybe that's why he pretends not to get the system.

10. Don't play poker with him. He cheats.

11. He likes watching the old sci fi movies. 

12. Never, ever watch horror movies with him.  He either guesses the murder and tells you before it's over or sits in bored silence until the end where he explains a much better method of killing the victim. Most of which involve coded messages and lemon juice.

Ok, that's it.  12 things you probably didn't know about him.  I am now going to read what he's written and we will have to see how that goes. Punishment may follow.... If he writes that I punished him horribly by switching out the soy milk carton with normal milk, you should probably believe him. It's been known to happen on occasion.
The look on his face is worth it every time. Believe me.

Darcy

My friend has acquired a cat. Cats are small, devious creatures who glare at you unblinkingly from any corner of the room. She has named this cat "Darcy" after the famous Mr. Darcy from Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice. The name suits the cat rather well as it's personality is  to sit sulkily on a book shelf and look down on anyone that approaches. My friend says I'm jealous and being anthromorphic, which possibly might be true. (The anthromorphic part, not jealousy. I would never be jealous of such a lowly creature as a sentimental feline.) 
The cat is pure black, with huge yellow/green eyes and large pointed ears.  I told my friend that his ears look like saucers and that something must be seriously wrong with it. She retaliated with the fact that my ears are pointed and there's nothing wrong with me. At least not yet. I resent that.

Such were the circumstances when I retired for bed that evening.

 I walked over to the window and stopped short to see Darcy lying on my bed.


“You can’t sleep there.” The cat opened one eye but didn’t move.

Feeling ridiculous for addressing the cat, I tried gingerly lifting him off the bed, but he hissed and spat venomously. Jumping back, I glared at the cat who purred triumphantly. I looked at the bed again, the idea of that creature lying next to me was not appealing. Deciding that if left alone he might leave, I got ready for bed and returned to find the cat still there.
Not to be outwitted by a cat, I spoke calmly, “Fine. You in your outright display of rebellious behavior which is so unlike your domestic ancestry, appears to have won this argument. On the contrary, I, in my genetically superior ways, forfeit this bed therefore making this a hollow victory. I will be much happier sleeping on the floor while you sleep in guilt."
The cat blinked slowly.
I sighed, so much for logical reasoning.

Carefully gathering blankets from off my bed, I laid them on the floor and turned off the lights. The cat's eyes glowed evilly in the darkness, competing with the soft glow of the glow in the dark constellations.

It was a long night.
My friend told me that I didn't look rested in the morning. I wonder why. Darcy on the other hand was perfectly fine and content to continue his vigil of glaring from the book shelves.

Dancing Part III

As the slow song ended, Heather ran up to me all happy, bubbly. I (having no other excuse)  feigned equally as excited feelings. My friend just rolled her eyes and stepped back, waiting to watch the performance.  Heather practically skipped onto the dance floor. It was a slow dance and the mass of other people dancing blocked my view of my friend for a moment.  Heather was talking animatedly in tones loud enough to rupture any tympanic membrane, other couples dancing glared in our direction, Heather paid no attention. I remember her saying, "Who's that with your friend?"  Turning to look, I saw Mark talking to my friend. He looked intent, like he was trying desperately to get the point across. My friend looked annoyed. "An old acquaintance." I said, off handedly, while changing the direction of our dancing so I could watch.  Heather shrugged. "He's cute."  "Hm, if you say so."  She giggled.
Mark was now using expressive hand gestures, and in one swift moment, grabbed my friend and holding her tightly, began to dance.  My friend looked less than pleased and tried to push away.  He held tighter.  I began to lose interest in dancing with Heather, and instinctively began to move closer to my friend.
Mark was saying something, then without warning kissed my friend. She yanked free and slapped him.

I don't remember letting go of Heather, I just remember the next thing I said was something like, "What do you think you're doing?" Mark straightened, "Just dancing, got a problem with that?" He looked defiant.  "No, I don't have a problem with your participation in such frivolous activities." I said, glaring at him, "But I believe your behavior was less than acceptable and my friend might very well 'have a problem with that'."  He glared at me then turned to my friend, "Do you have a problem with that?"  My friend began to speak but he cut her off, "See! She doesn't! So go back to wherever ever it is you came from and leave us alone!"  He turned around, thinking the argument won. Other couples were stopping to watch. "Pardon me," I said, still trying to be diplomatic. "But I believe you did not let the lady speak. Under your laws, you are allowed freedom of speech and you are violating such a thing." "Thank you Mr. Jefferson." Mark said sarcastically, "But she doesn't need to talk,  besides, who wants a girls opinion anyway?" He looked around the room as if expecting to see heads nodding in agreement.  He didn't.  "Oh come on!" he yelled, "All girls are are pretty faces that don't have an ounce of logic in their heads! What kind of opinion could you get from that? I bet Mr. Smarty Pants here has a Mom who couldn't name the months of the year!" 
That did it.
Forget legal liability or the fact that anger is illogical, I hit him.
The look of shock on his face was gratifying. And then he hit back.  I vaguely remember feeling some form of pain, but that's it. I won't give you the ugly details, I will just say that Mark will look oh so charming with his front tooth missing.
                                                                      *
I fell back onto the couch in my friend's living room.  I heard her heels clicking as she went into the kitchen and opened the freezer. She came back and handed me an ice pack. "Wow." was all she said as I pressed the cold compress to my forehead. The world was spinning. "I didn't know you could hit like that." I nodded, faintly, "A matrix ninja never tells their secrets." She smiled, relieved that I was still feeling well enough to joke. "Well, Mark got what he deserved." I smiled to myself. Revenge was sweet.
My friend handed me a band aid, "Thanks Spock."  I smiled, "You're welcome."

Dancing II

"What are you going to wear to the dance?" My friend asked me, walking into my room. "An oxygen mask and safety gloves." "My friend rolled her eyes. "Please." "No, I think it's quite logical, you wear an oxygen mask to prevent dizziness from all of the different perfumes and you wear gloves to protect you from the sweaty palms of all your dancing partners." "Hm, good point." My friend said. "But just don't wear your black uniform ok?" "Why?" I asked, as that had been the article of choice. "You look like some freaky ninja from the Matrix movies."  I raised an eyebrow, "What is the Matrix?" "Oh never mind!" My friend sighed, exasperated and left the room. I tend to have that affect on her, I find it quite useful.
                                                                             *

"Just try and have fun." We were walking up the steps to the dance. "Is that advice or a threat?" I asked dryly. My friend didn't hear me, as a friend of hers had started talking to her. I waited patiently by her side while observing the room. It was a formal affair and the chandeliers and rich atmosphere was intoxicating.  Groups of girls were scattered randomly about, dressed in brightly colored dresses and whispering as they glanced at the various gentlemen. My friend's voice pulled me back. "And this is my friend, Spock."  I nodded gravely to the young lady, she smiled and her cheeks blushed red. My friend seemed slightly irritated by that and soon broke up the conversation.  We moved farther inside.  The music was provided by an orchestra, and I stood watching the instruments in silent fascination. "Will you stop that?" My friend said, "With the way you stare, you'd think you were a three year old that had never seen a violin before."   I raised an eyebrow, "Oh. Right. The violin is that one there." My friend said pointing.  I saw Mark from across the room. He had seen my friend and was walking across the room, then he spotted  me, with a glare, he turned abruptly and stalked away. "Friendly people you have here." I said under my breath.  My friend wasn't listening. She was again talking to one of her friends.  This friend wasn't even trying to pretend like she was listening. She was openly gaping at me.  Feeling uncomfortable, I made eye contact and gave a slight nod of my head in acknowledgment.  She blushed harder.
"Would you stop that!"  My friend whispered furiously. "Stop what?"  "Stop that." "Stop what?" I asked again, thoroughly confused. "You're flirting with her!" "I most assuredly am not!"  I retorted, shocked. "Whatever made you come to such a conclusion?"  Just then, a group of girls walked by, one of them dropping her purse. Without thinking, I bent and picked it up for her. The girl took the purse, giggling and walked away. I looked back at me friend. She had an, "I told you so" look on her face.  "What?" I asked, exasperated. She just rolled her eyes, "Do it again." "Do what again?" "That look you do. The raised eyebrow/smile thing."  "May I ask why?" "Just do it. For science, for me, whatever, just do it!" This was getting awkward. I randomly picked a girl standing in the corner and did what she asked. The result was the same. "See!" My friend said. "Proof! They like you!"  "It does not! It merely proves that dances provide the atmosphere of flirtatious people. See look: that man right there is smiling at that young woman, she in turn will....." I trailed off, the lady had walked away.
My friend looked smug. "Somebody likes Spock!" She sang.  Well, at least she wasn't mad at me. This dance had to be the most ludicrous thing I had ever attended.  Matching my friend's sing song voice, I asked her, "Are you jealous?" "Me?! Jealous? Of you!?" She looked incredulous. "No! Ew! I mean.. No!!"  She was completely flustered.  I smirked, "I think you are."  "I told you-"
"Dance with me." I interupted. "What?!" "Dance with me!" I asked, desperate now, I had spotted Heather and she was coming closer.  I grabbed my friend's hand and spun her out onto the dance floor. "Spock what on earth- "Vulcan" "Fine, Vulcan are you doing?"  "Heather."  I whispered quietly. "Ah." My friend said, "You really are a three year old, how does dancing with me prevent you from meeting her?"  Hm, she had a point. "It will simply buy me time until I can think of something." "So you don't have a plan?" "No, not really." My friend laughed.  She was quietly laughing until the song ended. She stepped back,  "Now what?" 
Heather was getting closer.

Dancing I

We were sitting at the dining room table; the smell of dinner cooking filled the air.  I had the communicator dismantled and spread out before me, still trying to fix it.  My friend stared at me across the table, her head in her hands. "Don't you ever give up?" She asked. "Perseverance." I said, not looking up from my work. She was quiet for a few minutes, the sound of the screwdriver against the communicator seeming incredibly loud.  "Hey, I was thinking, do you want to go to a dance on Saturday? Heather will be there."  I coughed and nearly dropped the screwdriver. Heather was the flirtatious, obnoxious and terrifying companion of my friend.  "What the matter? Your heart over come with joy to see Heather again?" She  teased. "On the contrary." I said, feeling a slight rush of panic. "I think cardiac arrest would be apropos." She gave me a blank look. "Appropriate for the situation." I explained. She nodded, "Ahhh." "What's so wrong with Heather? You two really seemed to hit it off."  I'm not sure what she mean by 'hitting it off' but from what I remember, Heather had practically pushed herself into my arms by pretending to faint. After her supposed "Recovery"  I had been stuck listening to her inane talking for hours. Evidently I had some pained look on my face because my friend changed the subject. "Ok then, about the dance, do you want to go?" I shrugged, suddenly the communicator had become more interesting.  My friend sensed the uncomfortable silence. "Have you ever been to a dance? Star fleet has those gala balls every once in awhile, surely you've been to at least one."  "Yes. One." My friend got a satsified look on her face. "But that was only because I lost a bet with Kirk." The look faded.  "Well did you at least dance at the one dance you went to? You seem more like the Mr. Darcy, "She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me" type, no offense." I raised an eyebrow, "None taken."  "Well? Did you dance?"  I feigned a pained look, "Yes.  A horrendous affair forever ingrained in my memory! Not even the deepest sands of time can erase!"  "She looked at me. "Very poetic. More of your Segalt's creations?" "No, my brilliance and meditative skills conjured that one." She rolled her eyes.  "So who did you dance with?"  "I can't remember her name, only that she looked remarkably like a member of the Rodentia Mammalian classification."  My friend gave me a playful hit from across the table. "That's not nice! You are so mean!" "On the contrary." I said, straitening in my chair,  "I was merely stating the facts. Good science is observation of the facts, as I'm sure you are well aware of, like the fact that whatever it is you're cooking is burning in there."
My friend ran into the kitchen.
Dinner consisted of Chinese take-out that night. My friend said it was for the cultural experience, but I'm sure we all know the real reason.

Conversation

I realized that I have been posting major events and have not given an account on what happens on a daily basis. As an apology, here are some of the conversation pieces that happen throughout the day:


“Spock, I’m getting tired of Lucky Charms.” My friend said, pulling out a different box of cereal. “These are called Cheerios. You know? Like in England where they say cheerio? It’s like wishing you a good morning when you eat it.” At my blank look, she continued. “And look.” She said pointing to the words. “It says ‘Cheer’ that means if you eat these, then they will make you happy all day long.” She pushed the box towards me, ignoring my skeptical face. “As I am Vulcan, do you really expect a breakfast cereal to have affect on my emotional tendencies?” I said raising an eyebrow. “On the contrary, I would expect nothing of the sort and would think that no effect whatsoever would take place. As emotions are foreign to Vulcans, I would not expect that they could be replicated in a form of food whose second ingredient is sugar. But as sugar has been proven to give cathartic feelings to humans, I wouldn’t be surprised if the “Cheer” feeling they are giving you is really that of a sugar high.” My friend looked at me, gave an exaggerated motion of picking up the box of cereal and replaced it with Lucky Charms. “Happy?” “Happy’ is again, one of your human emotions.” I continued, “I would call it more of a satisfaction. Or possibly, triumph that I have proven to you the benefits of one cereal over another.” She looked at me again, “Just eat your cereal Spock.”

Or the random questions my friend asks me during the quiet hours of the afternoon:
"Spock, what's your favorite color?"  "I'm not sure what you mean by 'favorite' but I have always been partial to the color red." "Oh." She said, you could tell she was waiting. When I don't ask her the question back, she gets irritated; I can't say that I take no pleasure in watching her grow increasingly angry. It normally ends with her hitting my arm and saying, "Well!?!" I sigh,  "What's your favorite color?"  "Green." I nodded, "Fascinating." "What's your favorite animal?" "Again, I don't understand what you mean by 'favorite' but Tribbles are a sentimental type of creature." "That's not answering the question. I said what's your favorite."

I won't bore you longer with the desultory questions.  Sometimes she asks other questions, such as ones in the  scientific, mathematical or literate genres. But, mostly, when I start to make a statement to one of these questions, it  is interrupted with a science joke. Here is one of her favorites: "Hey Spock, you know the equation, E=Mc2?" "Yes, I am familiar with the equation-" "Well, you know what it really means? Energy equals milk chocolate squared!! Ha,ha, ha! That's so funny, well; I guess you and chocolate wouldn't work well, but still..." 

Sometimes, she catches me off guard, and asks sentimental queries. I think she enjoys the look on my face when I try and answer.  They are mostly questions about life on Vulcan, what my childhood was like, or how my parents met. My answers are guarded, I don't like such questions. They bring emotions that are hard to control and the feelings are less then reassuring. My friend asked me one the other day that I had a hard time answering. "Spock." My friend said, looking at me over the Chinese takeout we'd ordered. "Is it possible for Vulcans to fall in love?  I mean is that scientifically possible? With their lack of emotion, I don't think they could feel that. It's sad, everyone should fall in love." I wasn't sure what to say to this. I told her that it probably wasn't possible but the event occurring was indeed probable. She looked disapointed with my answer. But the truth was, I was falling in love- with her.

The common cold

Acute viral rhinopharyngitis. Otherwise known as the common cold. Not so common to Vulcans. Not a week had passed by since Charley and Gabriel's visit and I was sick with  a cold-The midnight star observations probably didn't help.  As colds are foreign to Vulcans, I will explain to eliminate any confusion: Colds are diabolical, deplorable and have a keen sense of vengeance. Symptoms include: Apathetic appetite to food, (Including lucky charms) incredible amounts of Kleenex tissue and hours of agony while being forced to watch food network. Sleep is near impossible as breathing has been inhibited to the sound of an early model space craft launching. As my communicator has been destroyed, I am unable to contact McCoy for medical supplies and am forced to consume vast quantities of what the humans call, "Cold medicine".  This cold medicine is some of the most abominable stuff on the planet. (Next to my friend's skill for cooking) They flavor their medicines with such things as grape, cherry, or tropical fruit, none of which come close to any resemblance of their namesake. The medicine is a liquid, sticky and thick. I try not to imagine the type of effluvia that rises from it, the smell is enough to send anyone gagging. Mary Poppins had the right idea about adding a "Spoonful of sugar" but I'm afraid not even a whole truck load would help.  My friend tries to be as helpful as possible, but fights back laughter every time I speak. The sickness has made my voice change and for some reason that I cannot comprehend, she finds this hilariously funny. If mind melds could pass on this cold, I would. My friend would be the one sitting on the couch being forced to watch countless re runs of mindless television and eating plomleek soup. ( A wonderful Vulcan dish, but my friend refuses to make it as she claims that it smells horribly.)  Though this cold is awful and not at all worth wishing for, the experience is fascinating and will help me more closely relate to earth life.  In the name of Science, *Sigh* can I have more cough medicine?

Relatives- Part IIII

Happy, euphoric, joyful day! -If Vulcans could feel such emotions. Today was the day Charley and her brother would be leaving. Leaving me in quiet, meditative, tranquility. There is also another reason for rejoicing, Charley was "Grounded" today. Let me explain:
On occasion, I like to rise from my bed between the hours of two and four A.M. to have a bowl of Lucky Charms and catch up on my quantum physics reading. (A Vulcan can never stop his studying for long). Charley having been made aware of this, had lain wait to scare me- except for one thing- it wasn't me. It was my friend. The scream was loud enough to shake the house. As I came running up the stairs to see what was the matter, I heard my friend yelling, "Don't you ever do that again! You hear me? Never!" Charley had pushed herself against the door as to make herself as small as possible. My friend's hair was flying in every direction and the look on her face was enough to frighten even me. I heard Gabriel crying from the other room. "Go tell him every things ok." My friend ordered. Gabriel was sitting in his bed crying hysterically; never having been taught to be much comfort, I tried my best to calm the child, though I'm afraid my efforts were in vain. After a few tentative attempts at phrasing something to say, Gabriel flung himself at me and held, clinging to my arm. The shock of physical contact was discomforting to me, but as humans tend to rely on physical comfort, I obliged. I heard my friend's voice rising from the other room, "You are grounded! You can't leave the house until your parents come. No T.V., no computer, no phone." I concluded that "Grounded" must be another word for punishment, though the comparison of being stuck on the ground to being punished seemed a bit far fetched for me. I heard a door slam, Charley's final attempt at being seditious. My friend came into Gabriel's room with a sigh. I tried to pry Gabriel off me and hand him to her. But Gabriel just cried and squeezed harder. My friend said she was going to bed, and I was left alone, the faint glow of the night light casting a homely light on Gabriel's slept tossed hair. It took twenty minutes for him to fall asleep, but when he did, he simply rolled off me and into his bed. Not sure what to do next, I searched my memory for inspiration. Ah, yes, I remembered. Tucking the sheets in and lightly patting his head, I left the room.

Sleep was impossible.

The morning dawned with an angry friend, a sullen Charley and an overjoyed Gabriel. He provided the only conversation at the breakfast table and talked animatedly over what he wanted to do today; the memory of last night seemingly forgotten. Sensing that any attempts at conversation with my friend would be futile, I conversed with Gabriel. He told me repeatedly that he wanted to go to The dinosaur museum and that he wanted to see a tyrannosaurus Rex.
Upon my query of what a Tyrannosaurus Rex was, he sighed and turned to my friend, "Can we go to see the dinosaurs? Please? Please! I'll be good!" "I don't see why not." My friend said sighing, "But Charley can't come." Gabriel stopped to ponder this. "But can we still go?" At my friend's response, he shouted joyfully and ran from the room. Five minutes later, he was dressed and waiting expectantly.
An hour later, my friend was ready to go. She left specific instructions for Charley, who wouldn't respond, and then closed the door.
Gabriel talked the whole way. I tried my best to keep him entertained, as my Friend did not seem talkative. But even my efforts were hopeless and I too fell silent.
The dinosaur museum was large and informative, but I will not post my findings here. It will suffice to say that Gabriel ran over the entire building, nearly fell off an exhibit he wasn't supposed to be on and that I was thoroughly exhausted by the time it was over.
Gabriel slept the whole way home, a welcome relief.
A strange vehicle was parked in the driveway when we arrived. Gabriel, having awoken by then, shouted, "Mom!" and sprang from the car. After exchanging pleasantries and conversing for over an hour, (none of which is relevant and needs posting) Gabriel* and Charley left. I'm going to miss the little guy, Charley, not so much.
I moved my things back upstairs and with a sigh, laid on my bed to stare at the glow in the dark stars. My friend walked in just in time to see the look on my face. "What's wrong?" She looked up too, "Oh my." Stuck to every individual star, was a piece of chewing gum. A parting gift from Charley. "Spock, I'm so sorry, Do you want help cleaning this up?" "I have no comment on the matter." I responded, my face expressionless, but my voice showing a smile,"Except, the complexities of human pranks escape me." My friend just shook her head as she went to get a stepping ladder.





* I thought you might be curious as to what happened to Gabriel. After he graduated college, he came to live with me on Vulcan and I mentored him for many years. We became fast friends. His knowledge greatly influenced Vulcan technology, despite his being human. I have a mind that when I finish my story, I will tell his.

Relatives-Part III

I should clarify. I did not launch Charley off the planet. . . . . I used calm and logical reasoning instead.

After trying for fifteen minutes to fix my communicator I went upstairs. Charley was sitting at the table and trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. Giving her a glare, I resumed eating my soggy Lucky Charms, their powers useless against the forces of this little girl. "So, my communicator." I said, trying to get a confession. "Don't you like it?" She said, "I bedazzled it and made it pretty!" "It wasn't supposed to be pretty." I argued. "That is an important tool used to communicate with Star Fleet!" "Oh, well." She said, "Star Fleet isn't real anyway, and all those people who get into all that star trek junk are a bunch of nerds. I'm sure if you want another one you can go buy one on the K-mart blue light specials." Charley took one look at my face and ran screaming from the room. "Anger is illogical." I told myself. "Anger is illogical." I heard her scream from the other room, "The nerdy boyfriend is going to kill me!!" I followed her into the living room. She was hiding behind the couch, when she spotted me she screamed and ran into her room, slamming the door. "What is going on here!?" My friend ran into the room. "She broke my communicator!" I said. Charley flung open her door, "I did not! I made it pretty!" "No!" "Did too!" "Did not!" "Did too!" Stop it!!" My friend yelled, "You sit down!" She pointed at me. "You sit down." she pointed at Charley. I meekly went into the living room and sat down. Charley followed and after glaring at me, sat at the opposite of the room. My friend stood above both of us. "Now someone tell me what is going on." Charley and I both started speaking at once. "SILENCE!" My friend yelled, "One at a time. Charley, you first." "He's going to kill me! Your nerdy boyfriend is going to get me!" Charley started crying. "Spock. Explain." My friend turning to me with a cold glare. "She broke my communicator! I need that!" "Is that true?" My friend asked Charley who was now clinging to my friend's leg. She nodded. "It was an accident! I didn't mean too!" My friend looked at me, Charley grinned from behind her leg. "Look at her!! You can't believe that!" My friend looked at Charley who had resumed her pitiful crying. Oh, she was good. I glared at her. "Spock, be nice." my friend said catching the look. "I think the only way we are going to solve this is if we all hug and say we're sorry" My friend then made us hug, a process that took awhile as I had never experienced a hug and the procedure was new to me. "I'm sorry." Charley muttered. "I deeply apologize for whatever fear I caused you and even though you broke my communicator which is a valuable tool for any Vulcan traveling on earth-" My friend coughed, "I forgive you." I said looking down;forgiveness was a new concept for me. "Great, now that you guys are friends-" I snorted. "Friends." My friend continued with an edge in her voice, "We can all get along and go do something fun today ok?" Charley took my friend's hand as they walked from the room, turning to stick out her tongue as she rounded the corner.

Relatives-Part II

The infuriating, exasperating, vexatious little girl! I ought to put her on a one man shuttle craft and send her to the farthest reaches of the galaxy....quadrant three! But, before I send her off on a shuttle craft, I should explain. Take off will be in five minutes.

She broke my wireless communicator.

I had been sitting at the breakfast table eating Lucky Charms and reading a book I had found on quantum physics, when she walked in. She was dressed in a black t-shirt that said 'Princess' in some type of shiny pink beads. Her pants consisted of silky material with pink clouds printed on them. But her face. On her face she wore a look of complete, mischievous triumph. In her hand she held my missing wireless communicator. The screen was scratched and a piece of metal crashed from it and on to the floor with a clank as I stared at her in silent disbelief.
She smiled a diabolical grin. No sign of repentance showed on her face.
"You." Was all I could say, dropping my spoon into my apparently useless Lucky charms. I slowly rose from my chair. "Give that back now." I said, fighting to control the desire to yell. Just then my friend walked in the room. "Hi guys! How long have you been up Spock? Five?" The phone rang and she left the room before I could answer or tell her of the miscreants evil deed. I looked back to Charley. She was gone, fled from the scene, but placed on the table was my wireless communicator. "Charley" was written across the screen in some type of sticky pink substance. I picked it up, glitter falling as I did. Utterly useless. "There's no help for me now Scotty!" I moaned. "You'll never beam me out of here and I will be stuck on earth with all their strange customs and nauseating culinary skills."
I wandered dejectedly down the hall, past my old room with my comforting glow in the dark stickers and into the basement to see if I could fix my communicator. Pointless. I tried to turn it on, it would whir with a strange buzzing sound and then fade.

And now as you know the reason for our unforeseen shuttle launching, I have an appointment to go to: 10,9,8,7. . .

Relatives- Part I

In case you were wondering, I have completely recovered from my chocolate ordeal and am doing fine now. My friend made me lie on the couch for a few hours, and throw away my APA formatted paper on the health benefits of chocolate, but other than that, things are looking up.
Now, back to the matter at hand:
My friend has, in her immediate family, some humans of younger age. She calls them her niece and nephew. The girl is ten years old and the boy the age of eight. She told me that they were coming to stay with her for three nights while their parents were on a vacation. (Much needed I can tell you due to the hyperactivity of the children.) As I was staying in the only available guest bedroom, my belongings were moved downstairs for the time being. (All for my wireless communicator which I have seemed to have misplaced. . . .)
The children arrived at half past two with a flurry of excitement and suitcases. After the parents had kissed the children goodbye and fled (The boy screaming the whole time) they settled down to take in their surroundings.
I had remained hidden behind around the corner of the room when they had arrived and peered cautiously at them. They seemed harmless enough, though the girl jumped at my sudden presence and the boy stuck out his tongue. "Who are you?" The girl demanded. "I'm a friend of your Aunt's. She-" "Are you her boyfriend?" she asked me with a sly glance at her brother. This term was new to me. I was a boy and a friend so the apparent answer would be yes. "Yes, I guess you could call it that." I replied. The girl giggled. "Spock! What did you just tell them?" My friend came walking in from the other room. "You have a boyfriend you have a boyfriend!" The children teased. My friend flushed slightly then grabbed me by the arm (which has become quite bruised recently as this motion occurs often.) and pulled me into the other room. There I was quickly informed of the meaning of the word "Boyfriend" and that if ever repeated with her name in the same sentence would end with myself so obliterated that my very existence would have been questioned by even the smallest speck of dust. Nodding furiously that I understood, she released me.

*Side note, for the definition of "Boyfriend" I have included it at the bottom of the post.

I went back into the living room. The children were sitting side by side on the couch and were conversing quietly. They threw several glances in my direction. "Gabe, what did you just say?" My friend walked in the room. The children's whispers ceased. "Nothing." The boy's guilty face tried to smile innocently. "Uh huh. Right. No making fun of my friend here ok? He. Is. Just. A. Friend." She heavily pronounced the last sentence. The children nodded, but their eyes still glinted with laughter, the worse was yet to come. "Spock, this is Gabriel and this is Charley." My friend said introducing me to the young earthlings. "I don't think you've met Gabe, but the last time you met Charley was at that family party, she was just a baby then."
I remembered. It had been my first encounter with a human infant and after having the child thrust into my reluctant arms, she had thrown up all over me and whatever object was near by.
The stench of baby drool never left my clothing and I had to get a new communicator because the one I had had was damaged beyond compare. I most certainly remembered.
"Spock, say Hi." My friend said pulling me out of my reflecting. "Hello." I said tentatively. The girl still had a glint in her eye. The boy seemed friendly though. He smiled broadly and waved, not yet under his sister's evil spell.
The day wore on. The girl, Charley, went with my friend to the store and I was left with Gabriel. He smiled at me and handed me a book to read. He then sat very close to me on the couch and begged me to read the book. I obliged. The book was about space travel and he enjoyed it very much. Though I don't think he noticed that I changed facts to make them more accurate, or omitted parts that were purely false. After I finished, he clapped his hands and shouted, "Again, again!" I looked at the book with distaste. The plot was fine, but the illustrations of monkeys in space suits were nauseating. I suggested a different story, and he seemed fine with that. I then proceeded to tell him a story of the time when I went with Kirk to Romulus and he got into a fight, which I saved him from only by Vulcan gripping every person he fought with and then mind melding them to prevent any memory of the accident from occurring. (To this day, Kirk has no memory of this fight, but the scar on his forehead is proof enough) Gabriel liked the story so much that I told him another one, this time about what McCoy does in medical and how he teases me relentlessly over my abhorrence of blood. I had told him about four stories by the time my friend got home and seeing us having so much 'fun' (though it was really a lecture on space physics) left us alone until dinner time.
I predict that boy will grow up to be a great scientist one day, maybe even better than that 'Smart Alec' that everyone swears by.


Boyfriend: A boyfriend is a person's regular companion in a romantic relationship, usually in a long-term, committed (E.g. marital) relationship. (Earth definitions are confusing, they should simply have it be what it says: Boy. Friend. I will have to post more of their double meaning words.)

The consequences of Chocolate Part III

Again, warning. The following depicts the consequences of Vulcans and chocolate. Some material may be shocking or even disturbing to minds unused to living with Vulcans. Vulcan's and human's alike take warning.










"Spock." I thought I heard my name being called. "Spock." The voice came again. My friend was standing above my bed. "It's nearly ten 'o clock. But as you always so poetically say it: 'The sun is almost at it's zenith and all the things that can be accomplished in the day are dwindling fast into oblivion.' Pretty good impressions huh? Now get up." I stumbled down the hall and sat sullenly at the table. "What do you want for breakfast?" My friend asked me, holding a box of Lucky Charms. I shook my head. "Fine. How about toast?" I nodded. "Fine." My friend said, putting bread in the toaster. "Are you ok today?" I shook my head. "Are you going to talk today?" "That would be illogical." I said, my voice cracking. I was not feeling good at all, my head felt like I had just warped through an asteroid field. "Are you getting sick?" My friend asked looking concerned. "No. -" I stopped to clutch my head, 'Augh! the blood vessels in my brain are constricting!" "What are you talking about?!' My friend said, shocked by my sudden outburst. "My head. . . blood vessels. Constricting... Headache." I stammered, apparently loosing the ability to communicate in full sentences. "Then why didn't you just say so? You don't have to make things so complicated. Now eat your toast and I'll get you some medicine for your headache." "Toast?" I said, my mind fogging. Why would I eat toast?" "You said that's what you wanted, now eat!" "No." I said, suddenly feeling my blood pump quicker; my mood changing from dazed to rebellious."Well, why not?" "Because that would be illogical! You have to eat Lucky charms in the morning to have fortune smile on you through out the day! You don't get the same benefits by eating that grainy square stuff you call bread!!" What was wrong with me? My moods were switching too fast, I needed to lie down. "Spock, you are impossible!" My friend sighed, "Raising a puppy would be easier than you!" "No, I exist therefore I am not impossible. What you mean to say is I'm improbable." She just looked at me. "At least the puppy wouldn't argue back. Hey, you watched big bang theory didn't you? I knew I should have hid the remote. At least you haven't found the soap operas yet." "What? how did you know?" I asked. "You just quoted directly off it!" "Oh." I felt myself relaxing again, the calm, dazed feeling sweeping over me. "Fine, you win. I'll eat toast." My friend pushed the plate towards me, shaking her head. "I swear, I will never figure out your-" "You swear? Are you swearing by Alec, that man that Mark swore by?" "What are you talking about?" "Smart Alec. That man that Mark swore by, is he some type of genius on your planet? What did he do that was so brilliant that you swear by him?" My friend started laughing uncontrollably. I watched; unmoved. I was used to this response to most of my queries.
I munched the toast silently. Toast is bland, crunchy and makes too much noise when consumed. My friend stared back at me; waiting. She didn't have long to wait. *Crunch, crunch, crunch...*
"So what do you want to do today?" She asked, breaking the silence. "I think." I said, swallowing the last dry piece of toast, "That we should try to disprove one another's theories in a debate over various scientific topics. It is a most invigorating game." "Um, no." My friend said, "If you want to do something nerdy like that then we can play scrabble or Risk. I know better than to get into an argument with you." I wasn't sure if I should be offended or not. Deciding not to take offense, I stared back at my friend. She has the ability not to blink for long periods of time. "Why are your eyes so bewitching!" I suddenly cried out. "The blue, grey depths are enough to drive one mad!" That made her blink. "What did you just say?" she asked me. I wasn't sure. Her eyes had always struck me as beautiful, but I had never said anything like that. I decided to go for a safe response: "Segalt, The great Vulcan poet. I thought you would want to hear more of his inspiring words." "No, not now." She said, still looking suspicious.
"Yes." I said, feeling somewhat relieved. She continued to list all the things we could do today, including the museum, a movie and the Zoo. "All these sound like fun." I said, feeling suddenly ill, "But I don't feel like doing that today." "What's wrong? Had enough of Earth culture yet?" She laughed. "No, maybe just brownies." I replied, with my head on the table. "Brownies! How many did you eat?" She asked. "All of them." My voice muffled by the wood. Silence. I looked up. My friend was looking down at me with a slightly amused and slightly worried face. "Chocolate must affect the Vulcan mind." I said, groping for some type of explanation. "That's why I made that comment about the color of your eyes." Her face flushed slightly. "Fine, but I not going to believe you until I make sure." She left me at the table and came back with her laptop. Five minutes later, she had found out the results of chocolate, made me lie down on the couch and left me with strict rules on not moving. Her face was still blushing.

Chocolate- Part II

Warning: Some material may not be suitable for young children as this depicts what happens to a Vulcan who eats Chocolate












Brownies. So that's what the brown objects were. We were sitting on the couch watching a movie; the kitchen was clean, Mark was gone and the smell coming from the brown squares was tantalizing. Everything seemed right, except for one thing- the brownie was hypnotic. "Well? Aren't you going to eat it?" My friend said, noting the fact that all I was doing was staring at it. The sight of it! Brown in every shade! The middle looked soft, the outside edges a lighter color, ready to break at the slightest touch! What was wrong with me?! Vulcan's don't think this way! Food was just something that got in the way of better things to do, if it wasn't necessary to survival, I might not eat at all. "Well?" My friend said again. I shook my head. "It's too... beautiful." "What is wrong with you?! It's a brownie for crying out loud! And you're the one that says I'm illogical, what you're doing is down right weird!" She had a point, making up sonnets at the sight of a brown piece of cake was a bit illogical. I speared a piece of brownie with the fork, ignoring my friend's exasperated sigh at the fact that I wouldn't just pick it up and eat it. I brought the fork closer to my mouth, the smell of chocolate was almost over powering. "Spock." My friend's voice stopped me, she sounded worried. "You're blushing green again. Are you ok?" "Fine, fine fine!" I said. I thought I heard my voice go higher. I coughed. "Ok then. . ." My friend said. I put the fork in my mouth. The softest, most moist flavor of something I can't describe hit my tongue. "Fascinating." I murmured, my voice not above a whisper as not to ruin this special moment. I ate another bite, then another, soon the whole brownie was gone off my plate. I looked woefully at the few crumbs left, fighting the temptation to lick up ever single crumb. I looked at my friend's plate. Half a brownie lay there, forgotten. I suddenly felt pity for the brownie. All alone. It was sitting by itself, no one was there for it. I felt a slight tug in the back of my mind. It wasn't even a living thing and I was feeling pity for it. Chocolate must some how affect the Vulcan mind; this was illogical. "Spock." My friend was staring at me. "You are turning a darker shade of green. Are you sure you're not allergic to chocolate?" "I'm fine." I said, "Can I have another one?" "I don't think that would be a good idea-" I made a mad dash for the kitchen, the brownies lay there unguarded. My friend jumped up before me and blocked the door. For some reason, I thought this hilariously funny. I began to laugh uncontrollably. My friend tried a few hesitant chuckles. "Are you sure you're ok?" I couldn't answer, I was laughing to hard. "He's finally lost it." I heard her mutter.
Suddenly, I stopped laughing, I had a brilliant idea. "Let's sing the periodic table of elements!" I cried, "It will be fun!" "But Vulcan's don't believe in fun." My friend said." That jogged my memory. "You're right! What was I thinking?" She looked relieved. "Then in the name of Science: There's Antimony, arsenic, aluminium, selenium and hydrogen! Oxygen, nitrogen and rhenium and nickel and, and. . ." The look on my friend's face stopped me. "Is something wrong?" I asked. "I didn't skip vanadium did I? I always miss that one." She was still staring at me. "I had no idea Vulcan's could get so hyper. I didn't know it was possible Vulcan's could get hyper." "Well, if that's all then - Strontium, silicon, silver and samarium!" I paused. "You're not singing. Don't you want to sing? Singing is fun! I mean.. it's scientific! Maybe you don't like that song." I said suddenly worried. "We could sing something else! We could sing the song about all the planets, (There' more than what you sing about on earth you know) we could sing the construction of a nebula...." "No." My friend said to me. I nodded, leave it to a human to be such a kill joy. "Fine." I sat down on the couch. My friend sat back down hesitatingly, sitting far on the other side. The movie continued playing. We had decided on "Space cowboys". My mind seemed to be returning to normal when the computer technician in the movie called out something. It was like flipping on a switch. "NO!" I cried, "You don't do that!" I was up on my feet and pointing accusingly at the t.v. "Why on Vulcan would you do that?" I heard my friend snicker, I turned around. "Why on Vulcan?" She repeated. "It's just a phrase that means, oh never mind." I wasn't going to bother explaining such simple things. She pointed to the couch, I sat back down. Things were quiet for a few moments despite the fact that my hands felt jittery. They began the countdown to space on the screen. I snorted. "You still do that?" My friend kicked my leg. "Sh!" I scooted farther away and watched the t.v. The blast off was uneventful (And why should it be?) Space travel is as simple as operating a motorized vehicle.
We had reached the part where the one man decides to sacrifice himself for his friends. "You know, technically he wouldn't have to do that." I told my friend. "If they had simply readjusted the timing belt on the.." "Sh! I don't want to hear any of your Vulcan Physics!" I quieted down. I was beginning to feel funny. "As the seasons change!" I suddenly cried out, "So do circumstances and this existence provides, so few second chances-" "Are you out of your Vulcan mind?" My friend shouted at me. "What on earth are you doing?!" I giggled, "It's actually "What on Vul-" "What are you doing?" She repeated. "Quoting Segalt, the great Vulcan poet. Never heard of him? Oh what shame! His words speak logical truth straight to the heart!" I continued: "What was, has been and directs what will be-" Spock." My friend said quietly. I stopped, breathing hard. "Yes?" " I am not giving you chocolate again."






* I must note that Segalt is not my own creation,
for more of his poetry, visit: http://www.elysianvisions.com/integrity/segalt.html

Part I

"You speak Klingon." We were back at my friend's house and she was seated on the couch looking at me with her eyebrow raised. "Yes. Not very well, it's a harsh language and I don't enjoy speaking it as much as I do Vulcan." "I can see why; I haven't heard anything so creepy since Gollum and his 'precious'. Wait, did you say you speak Vulcan? I thought that Vulcan's spoke English." "We do, but we also have our own language." "Say something." "Dif-tor heh, smusma." "What did you say?" My friend asked. "Live long and prosper." My friend started laughing. "What's so funny?" "It's just, (ha ha ha) you hear that all the time and to see you say it, its- (gasping) really funny. You said it so serious! " "I don't see what is so amusing. It is simply a farewell; not in the least worth laughing at." The look on my face set her off again. "Will you teach me Vulcan? This could be really fun!" "You seem a difficult student, your laughing fits would not help you and speaking Vulcan is not for 'fun' you learn it to study the ancient histories of the planet." I said in all seriousness. The pursuit of fun seemed a life long task on earth and is not embraced by Vulcans.

"Please!" "No." "Please!" "I told you-" "Please?!" "Kroykah!" "What?" "Enough!" "Then will you teach me?" I sighed, I could tell this was a losing argument and any attempts at a diplomatic refusal would be in vain. "Fine." My friend started cheering. "On one condition." My friend stopped. "What?" she asked suspiciously. "You will teach me more about earth culture." (Better to end an argument with an appeared agreement then flat out defeat.) "Oh, is that all? Ok!" Humans are always so enthusiastic. I was glad I chose this tactic. If used on Vulcan, that statement would have started an hour long argument.

My friend said we had to 'shake hands' to show that we were in agreement (again that would never happen on Vulcan, fifty pages of contract is more effective) and then said she was going to bed.







*******



My friend took me to the grocery store to show me the food they use on earth. She said she would buy things for dinner and then I would have to make it. (To experience earth culture, but it was really so she wouldn't have to make it.) Their produce is odd. It comes in all shapes and colors and the smell is not often pleasant. Since she knew of my abhorrence to meat, we quickly walked past that section of the store, but not without seeing the revolting packages lined upon the shelves. We also went down the candy aisle. Candy is one of the most ubiquitous foods in the grocery store. They have aisles devoted to it and then smaller racks of it to tempt you as you leave the store. As one who could never see such excitement in food. (Why eat when you could be doing something useful?) Was not very impressed with the candy aisle. The colors are vibrant the smell sickly sweet and the rows upon rows of it are dizzying to the eyes. But, as we walked past the end of the aisle, I smelled something wonderful, dark and kind of chalky. The object was brown and wrapped in foil. But, I was unable to inquire what the object was because my friend hurried me past to go to another end of the store.



Back at my friend's house, I proceeded to give a tiring lesson on the Vulcan language. It took many hours and many attempts, but my friend is starting to comprehend the Vulcan vernacular. Even I was impressed by her quick understanding of the language.
Teaching me how to prepare food was another matter. I do not like to touch food with my hands so my friend (while calling me a wimp) said she would put it in the pot and I would have to stir it. Simple enough... until the pot overflows. The phone rang while I was cleaning up the mess and my friend went to answer it. When she came back, she looked troubled. "That was Mark, he said he wanted to stop by, but I told him it was almost time for dinner. He said he would bring dessert and then hung up." Wonderful. I thought, my first experience with earth cooking and I would have to share it with this miserable creature. My friend must have noticed the look on my face, "Hey! I didn't invite him! I don't want him here anymore than you do." At last! She was finally starting to see what was wrong with this guy. I smirked to myself, my presence here was bothering to this young man and would upset any of his plans. His quick temper and sudden outbursts could provide fascinating entertainment for the evening.

****
The door bell rang. My friend told me to stay in the kitchen and went to answer the door. Mark walked in with the air of someone triumphant, not heeding of his forthcoming doom. "So you finally got rid of that weird guy?" I heard him say. "Good thing, he was giving me the creeps." "Well, actually-" "What are you making for dinner?" He got up and went into the kitchen stopping dead. "Oh." I gave my best attempts at a smile, "Nice of you to join us." He quickly put down the bag he was carrying and left the room. I glanced at the bag. That same strange smell was coming from it. I crept closer and looked in. It appeared to be some type of bread, cut into squares. It had a similar brown color to the object at the store, but was darker with different shades. "Are you ready to eat Spock?" My friend called from the other room. I quickly jumped back to stirring the pot, the unnerving feeling at being caught at something thudding in my ears. "Are you ok Spock?" My friend asked me, coming in. "You look kind of green." "Oh, what? Must be from the steam. Vulcan blood is green you know, it's because we have such a high copper level." I babbled. "Uh huh." My friend said still staring at me. We dished up the soup and put it on the table. The meal went on in silence; Mark eating sullenly. The food held little interest for me. I was still contemplating what the strange package was. "This is really good." My friend said, trying to start conversation. I nodded, Mark said nothing. The tension built. I suppressed the desire to smile. It finally cracked when my friend told Mark that she was trying to learn Vulcan. "Isn't that some made of language that Star Trek losers speak?" Mark asked. "Yes, but I don't see why you would call them 'losers'. It's really fun. Like pig Latin or something." Mark just snorted. My friend turned to me, "Ish-veh ni komihn." I choked on my soup, I was laughing too hard. My friend had just said, "He is so human." Mark remained unmoved. "What did she just say?" he asked me. "T'l kilko-srashiv kitok-wilat." I told my friend. (He must look elsewhere for his answer.) My friend laughed, "I'tah tehrai k'etwel." (He shall not find it here.) Mark started to turn red. I turned to Mark and held out my hand, "Nahp-hif...-bi tu throks!" (Your thoughts... give them to me!" My friend bent over laughing, I was enjoying this.
"You guys are a bunch of freaks!" Mark shouted."I'm leaving and not coming back until you get rid of this creep!" Mark said storming to the door. "I'm afraid that will never happen." My friend said, a laugh twitching on her face, "Spock always has been and always will be my friend." Mark growled something, did a defiant Vulcan salute and slammed the door.

"Oh what a shame." My friend said after we had stopped laughing, "He left before the brownies."

To be continued.....

Forgivness and Revenge Part II

The wallpaper of the restaurant was dingy. Flowers in a curious pattern littered the walls; a wooden clock on the wall ticked repeatedly in a solemn and bored tone. The fake plants were scattered across the room at random and cast off a faint smell of dust when you brushed by them. Such was the fine dinning experience of a small town. I glanced at Brianna over my menu, a shocking red head whose tight curly hair gave a rather wild but friendly appearance. Brianna smiled constantly and had a smile worth smiling about. I looked at Mark, he gave a deep scowl in return before directing his gaze back to the table.
I studied the menu, I was not familiar with earth food and some of the names were unheard of. I had never heard of "Potatoes" and things such as a "skillet" and "Parsley" were as foreign to me as gespar is to earthlings.
"How do you pronounce this?" I whispered to my friend. "That would be a hamburger." She said, a slight smile on her face. "What is it?" "It's a sandwich, with a beef patty and various vegetables." Sounded risky, if I didn't like it, I would have to endure whatever strange earth vegetables they had and this thing called "beef". "What is beef?" "It's uh... cow. That would be an animal. You eat them." But seeing the look of shock on my face, she added quickly, "No, no! It's not like that! Just try something else." I heard a cough. Mark and Brianna were staring at us.
"Uh, Spock's parents moved to India when he was little, he's grown up there and you know how they think cows are sacred? He hasn't had meat before." My friend put in quickly. Brianna nodded, Mark just looked incredulous.
After ordering food, (I tried something they call lasagna) I tried starting a conversation with Brianna. We talked on various subjects of science and I found the earth definition of things most amusing, but was able to be polite and nod at the appropriate times. I was telling her of my point of view on the subject of gravity when I accidentally started mixing Klingon with English. ( I do this frequently and is a habit I am trying to fix.) "You speak Klingon!" Brianna said. "Um yes, I..." "That is so cool!" She responded in Klingon this time. "All my friends think its nerdy and creepy, I am so happy to know someone else who speaks it!" For the rest of the evening, we spoke in Klingon which got many strange looks from the others sitting in the restaurant. I even heard Mark mutter something about 'Joining a nerd club' but we paid no attention.
After leaving the restaurant, we had to drop off Brianna. She lived with in walking distance of the restaurant so we all walked over there. Brianna said goodbye to everyone and said thank you for the evening. (Remembering from the movies we had watched) I escorted Brianna to the door. She said goodbye and I started to raise my hand in the customary Vulcan salute when I heard my friend cough from the driveway. "Oh right." I said remembering, I took Brianna's hand and kissed it. "Farewell Mon Cheri." I said. (All the guys do it in the movies my friend made me watch, so I expect that was the correct thing to do.) Brianna turned red, I heard Mark laughing from the driveway and my friend, I'm sure, rolled her eyes.

Forgiveness and Revenge

"Spock I have decided to forgive you." I looked up from the book I was reading. "Forgive me? For what?" "Your behavior last night. I realized that you probably had a moment of insecure panic and that was the reason for your acting up." I stared at her. "I did?" "Yes. What else would you call that?" "Defending myself." "That's the most-- Never mind, I am not going to argue with you." "A wise choice." I muttered. "What was that?" She glared at me. "Nothing. I didn't say anything." I said quickly. "Hm." She said. "Anyway, I talked to Mark, (Don't give me that look) and he said he wants to go out again tonight. Since you obviously aren't mature enough to be by yourself, I have to take you with me so you are going to go out with my friend Brianna. Agreed?" "I'm sure this will be a most educational event." I said, "But might I ask, is this some type of earth punishment? Your tone of voice implies so." "No! Don't be so obnoxious and you better not treat Brianna like she is some type of alien science experiment!" I laughed. I couldn't help it. "Stop it! You know what we are going to do for the rest of the day? I'm going to make you watch chick flicks so you at least get some idea of what you're supposed to do!" "Chick flicks?" I asked. She just sighed.
Four hours later. "Am I supposed to be liking this stuff?" I asked as once again a couple started kissing on screen. "Sh!" My friend said her eyes on the screen, her anger at me apparently forgotten. So far, we had watched "Superman" (To learn how to be a gentleman), and "Kate and Leopold" (To show that chivalry was still important.) My friend turned off the T.V. "So what did you think of that?" She asked. "I see why you call them 'Chick flicks' no one but a bunch of sensitive girls would like something like that. And I think your motives were not to educate me but to get revenge through such torture that can only be wrought by such things. But..." I added hastily as the fire once again lit behind her eyes, "I did learn some valuable lessons on earth culture and the historians back on Vulcan will be most pleased on this insight to human nature." "Wonderful." My friend rolled her eyes.
After that she said we had to "Get ready" for our evening out. I wasn't sure what she meant by that and waited while she ran about the house "Getting ready". I had a question for her and walked down the hall towards the bathroom. She was in there putting some black thing on her eyes. "What is that?" I asked She jumped. "Spock you scared me!" A black streak ran down her cheek. "Oh this, it's mascara. It makes your eyelashes look bigger." "Why would you want to do that?" I asked. "Because... because... Oh I don't know, you just do." I nodded. Another strange earth custom.
After waiting awhile longer, the door bell rang. "I'll get it!" My friend called. "I told them to meet here."
"Oh and Spock, Brianna's a Science Major."
To be continued.....

Mark

"Spock, I am going out for a little bit and you will have to stay home by yourself ok?" My friend had been in her room for an hour and had left me to discover the wonders of an object in her living room called a piano. "Where are you going?" I asked turning around. "On a date." At my blank look she explained, "I am going out with a um.. a friend of mine and you are supposed to stay here. You can work the microwave right? and I taught you how to reheat leftovers so you should be fine." I nodded, the microwave was a small box which lit up when you pressed the buttons. I had found out earlier that you do not turn it on unless something is inside it; because if you don't a burning smell fills the room and the microwave starts shrieking at you in a language that I didn't understand. "Ok Spock?" she asks again. "I'll be fine, but can I ask a question? What is then name of this friend of yours?" "Mark." she replied,"Why?" "So he is of the male gender then? And I assume this activity will be unsupervised as I am not invited. Is a "date" the earth word for courtship? Has he any plans to wed? If so, what are the marriage rituals for earth?" "Spock you ask to many questions." said my friend turning red, "Just open the door when he knocks and be nice!" She turned and walked out of the room muttering something about Vulcans being obnoxious. I turned back to the piano and was playing on the lower keys, which remind me of something ominous when the door bell rang. I went to the door and with some difficulty I figured out how to open the strange lock. A man walked in the door and started taking off his coat before he noticed me. "Who the heck are you?" he asked, "I am the person who opened the door without receiving thanks." I replied, my friend's warning to be nice going unheeded. Something about him was disturbing. "Smart Alec." He muttered. (I don't know what he meant by that comment, but I assume "Alec" was some type of world renowned genius and that they now swear by him.) He seated himself on the couch. "And who are you?" I asked, returning the question. "Only a teacher of a wonderful school, the chef of fabulous meals and the lucky guy who gets to take a beautiful girl out on a date."He said with a look that was daring me to disagree. "Hm." I nodded, he must have eaten his lucky charms. He looked up at me, "You have pointy ears, are you an elf?" "You have blond hair, are you as dull witted as they say?" I retaliated. "What the?! You have serious problems." He said glaring at me. "Then lets not be stereotypical." I said, "Or things could only get worse." "Is that a threat?" He asked stepping towards me. "Possibly." I said, "Your presence annoys me and if I am pushed much more I will be forced to hinder your mocking." "Try me." He said glaring. Remembering the effect on the man at the planetarium, I put my hand on his shoulder, as expected, he fell to the ground.
Thinking my friend would not be happy to see him lying on the ground, I picked him up and set him on the couch in a seated position, then went into the kitchen to wait until she found out. I was deeply interested in reading the box of lucky charms to find the ingredients of their amulets when my friend stormed into the room.
"What on earth did you do?" She yelled at me. "I assure you." I said trying to appear nonchalant, "I have no idea what you are talking about." "Then why is Mark passed out on the couch?" I tried to think of an answer. "Well, perhaps he is diabetic and has fainted from lack of food." I said, sounding hopeful. "Uh huh." she said, unconvinced, "Then why does he have a huge bruise all over his shoulder?" "Internal bleeding." I said, "We should call for medical help." She tapped her foot. "Well, I might have possibly, grabbed his shoulder and he fainted." "Spock! You are so exasperating! Go get some ice out of the freezer and put it in a Ziploc bag. I am going to go see if he's awake yet." "Um, what is Ziploc?" I asked. She just sighed and pointed to a drawer. "In there."
Mark woke up ten minutes later and was not happy to see me. "He's crazy!" he whispered. "Why are you housing a lunatic?" My friend just rolled her eyes. Mark, who was not feeling up to the outing, and seemed in a hurry to leave, left soon after. As the door closed, my friend glared at me and stomped out of the room. That night, not trusting myself to the perils of the microwave, I ate Lucky Charms by myself in the kitchen. I needed their lucky amulets to help me comprehend this next chapter of human behavior.