He'd played video games with the young human for a long time. And he had returned to Tandy Otrona's quarters to retrieve food. But he had felt restless. There was no need to sleep, and so Spock had left without thought, appreciating the lower nighttime lighting and the overall quiet.
The hydroponics labs were not as secure as, perhaps, the scientists who worked in them would have liked to think.
There was no logical reason for devoting station resources to the growing of roses. But Spock hiked his small body up, heedless of the thorns, to sit in the dirt between two thriving rose bushes. It was easy to meditate with the scent of the flowers, so much like his mother.
A vague memory from the day before of Spock mentioning that he liked that there were so many plants on the station finally led Tandy to him. For a moment, she was too relieved to see him in one piece (if sporting a few pale green scratches and scrapes from whatever he'd been doing for the past few hours) to be irritated. And then, he looked so small and lost huddled between the flowers.
But he could well have been lost.
"Spock," she said, very firmly, "you can't be in here in the middle of the night."
Spock blinked his eyes open. He had been aware of her approach, had considered hiding. But there seemed to be no reason to hide from Tandy Otrona. Or, really, from anyone here, perhaps. He did not fit. He had no purpose.
The remaining bits of child in him missed his mother and even his father.
Tandy crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway. "For one, because you're not supposed to be wandering the station at all, this late. And for two, because the lab is closed. I'm sure you noticed that the door was locked."
Comments 36
The hydroponics labs were not as secure as, perhaps, the scientists who worked in them would have liked to think.
There was no logical reason for devoting station resources to the growing of roses. But Spock hiked his small body up, heedless of the thorns, to sit in the dirt between two thriving rose bushes. It was easy to meditate with the scent of the flowers, so much like his mother.
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But he could well have been lost.
"Spock," she said, very firmly, "you can't be in here in the middle of the night."
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The remaining bits of child in him missed his mother and even his father.
"Why not?"
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