It was afternoon. Most of the people, who studied at the Starfleet Academy, even the teachers, were gone from their official posts of work. Almost every office was empty- the teachers and ambassadors visiting had gone back to their respective hotels and apartments. As a matter of fact, every teacher had left to somewhere less like a workplace and more like a home; every teacher except one.

Commander Spock stood in the middle of his office, his hands were clasped behind his back and his eyes were fixated on a black screen on the opposite wall. In a few more seconds, he figured, the screen would lighten up, and then hell should break loose. Figuratively speaking, of course.

And indeed. In less than a minute, the dim light from the sunset that before lightened up the room was gone, replaced by a stronger, whiter and brighter sort of illumination source. The screen was no longer black- instead; the face and shoulders of a woman were directly transmitted from the planet Vulcan to Spock's office upon earth. Amanda Grayson was grinning broadly towards her visibly less enthusiastic son, her brown bangs bobbing on her head as she waved eagerly towards him. Spock acknowledged her gesture with a nod.

'Hello Spock!' Amanda cried, 'it's mum!'

'Hello, mother', Spock replied and extended his right hand in a Vulcan salute, 'I trust you are well?'

'Better than ever! I slept better than I've done in days, and I tried a plate that I never tasted before! Can you believe it? Just when I thought I had squeezed out everything of value of Vulcan- it surprises me in the most delightful way! Salek wouldn't stop rolling his eyes at me because I was giggling like a child!'

'Hm', Spock noised and nodded, 'father is well as well, I hear.'

Amanda's expression darkened just a tad. Spock, as the blunt man he was, did not notice anything.

'Oh, Spock… he…he…' As her son stepped closer to the screen, finally understanding something was amiss, she corrected herself, 'Yes, your father is very well too. I think…'

She sighed.

'Don't you want to talk to him?'

'I am sure my father has more important appointments at the moment', Spock said simply.

There was silence between mother and son for a while, until Amanda broke it by clearing her throat loudly.

'So, Spock, now that you're living on earth…' she started, apparently trying to come up with something to say by the way, 'how are you adapting to the customs?'

Spock licked his teeth and for a second or less, his gaze shifted to the floor and back. He was not adapting very well at all. And Vulcans were unable to lie. For Amanda, who had lived on Vulcan for most of her adult life, had become quite the expert on reading emotionless masks. Of course, her son, was like an open book for most parts. Her face softened.

'Oh Spock…' she sighed, 'well, you're not having that hard a time, are you?'

'I never admitted to be having, as you put it, a bad time, I merely seem incapable of…adapting… to earth customs', Spock said, sounding almost sheepish at the last part.

'Earth has some lovely customs, don't worry, it won't take long before you feel at ease!' Amanda exclaimed, even though both knew that Spock should never feel at ease with anything, 'for example, we have Christmas, uhm… Easter, and also… oh, this one is tomorrow!'

'I beg your pardon, mother, I was in the belief that Easter was celebrated in May?'

'Oh, I wasn't talking about Easter- I was talking about tomorrow! It's Valentine's day.'

Spock thought about it for a moment.

'I believe I am not in acquaintance with this custom', he admitted after a thorough research of his mind, 'does it celebrate another part of the cycle of the life of the hypothetical prophet known as the son of God?'

Amanda laughed.

'Oh no, it's nothing like Christmas or Easter!' She said and waved her hand, 'it's really silly, if you think about it…'

'Mother, you can speak to me freely about it. I shan't judge you by it.'

'Okay, so it's like… a celebration to…', she put her finger to her bottom lip, trying to find the words to paint the meaning of this to a half-Vulcan, 'a celebration to celebrate affection, mutual understanding.'

Spock raised an eyebrow, 'a mating festivity?'

'Well… kind of, I suppose', she said and shrugged her shoulders, 'but, if you want to start adjusting to humans, you might as well try to mix in with the humans and celebrate it!'

'And…' Spock said, very slowly. He looked as if he was chewing a chunk of resistant meat, 'how do humans celebrate this… occasion?'

'It's different- some choose to give flowers to their sweethearts, others sing them a serenade of undying passion, others kiss their partners senseless under a full moon night- Don't give me that look, Spock! It's just a festivity; you can just give a present to someone whom you wish should be aware of your affections!'

But her son looked at her in that special way of his, that way of tilting his head just barely noticeable, that way of squinting his eyes. She could almost hear him mouth the word 'fascinating'. Amanda knew her battle was lost.

'Oh, okay, but you should at least put on something more festive!' She cried, and then she massaged her eyelid, 'oh Spock, don't you have any girl you fancy? Just a teensy-tiny little-'

Amanda Grayson stopped in blank. The last remark had been but a joke, of course she hadn't actually expected her stiff-as-a-stick son; whom she had lately been speculated seemed asexual; had taken liking for anybody who wasn't explicitly genetically linked to him.

And yet, as she'd uttered the words, so harmless to her, she had noticed something that she never had witnessed in over twenty years. Whilst her son's facial expression remained unchanged (except for a quick glance at his feet), she noticed that upon his pale cheeks, on the tip of his nose and lastly on his pointed ears, there was a light touch of forest green.

Spock was blushing.

'Spock…' his mother whispered, 'you do have a girl you fancy?'

Amanda's eyes widened when she gained an almost-emotional response from her son. He took another step forward and opened his mouth before quickly closing it again. He pressed his fist to his mouth, and then clasped his hands behind his back again. This all happened in less than a second, and for the untrained eye, Spock's reaction would have just seemed like a quick snatch. But not to the ever-so-knowing Amanda Gray. Yes, this was just about one of the closest thing she'd seen him do that would seem like a nervous fit.

Vulcans cannot lie.

Amanda's mouth almost hurt from smiling so widely.

'"Fancy" is hardly the correct term, mother', said Spock, 'and I think that I should leave to prepare tomorrow's class, if you excuse me-'

'Oh no you don't!' Amanda warned and reached her hand forward, as if to prevent Spock to move through a screen. The motion had the desired effect.

'Mother, I insist-'Spock began, but was interrupted by Amanda shaking her head.

'You must know, Spock', she said, 'earth mothers have this…tendency, to stick their noses up in their children's business. Now that you've managed to awake my curiousity, you can't just leave me without any real answers!'

'I believe I've already told you, mother', Spock said, '"fancy" is not the correct term.'

Amanda frowned. With Vulcans, the only way to succeed was to strike while the iron was still hot. Judging by Spock's calm, the iron had chilled down seconds ago- he was now prepared for most emotional blows. Amanda figured he must be feeling smug now, to have collected himself so quickly.

Well, that, she ought to change.

'Well, pray what is the correct term, then?' Amanda asked.

'The correct term would be-', said Spock, but then he blinked and started over again, 'I appreciate the company of the female in question. We have very pleasant conversations with each other.'

'So… just friends, is it now?'

'Our relationship is purely professional', Spock said dryly.

'Then…' Amanda said, 'then perhaps you could tell me what about her that you find enjoyable?'

'She arrives in time, a quality which is most admirable since humans seem to find it beyond difficult to arrive at the time they are supposed to', Spock explained, 'she also is a very gifted student of xenolinguistics- her grades have yet to be beaten by any student of any class.'

Amanda nodded, taking in the information seriously, before realizing something.

'Student?'

'As I said before, our relationship is purely professional.' Spock said, but Amanda thought he'd said it a little too fast for it to be a completely emotionless answer.

'I see…' Amanda smiled, 'well, is she cu-', she corrected her mistake, 'aesthetically pleasing?'

'Her looks are of the normal kind', he said, and then added, 'perhaps, in some contexts, even bordering the other edge of the scale.'

'Pffffft', Amanda snorted, 'so she's beautiful, yes?'

Spock did not answer.

'Buuut, then, that brings us to the subject! Valentine's Day; Valentine's Day! Now that we've established a possible subject to celebrate the event with?' Amanda laughed, 'A foxy little girl to shower with presents!'

In her utterly understandable motherly excitement, Amanda Grayson had forgotten the elementary facts regarding the background of the one she was speaking to. Spock's lips thinned at the word 'foxy'. He had no idea what it meant. And that, Amanda thought, was probably for the better.

'Are you implying that I should take the initiative in the process of requesting matrimonial unity?' Spock asked with certain disbelief, 'that I should give explicit indications of desiring her as a possible mate?'

'I only wish you to do as your heart compels you to do, sweetheart', Amanda said, a kind of pity in her voice, 'but if you really want to do that… I think it's a bit over-the-top though.'

'It was you who suggested similar actions; I merely wanted to make sure what you said is what I understood, as you may know, I would never participate in such action.'

That was her son's way of saying 'I never said that, you did!'

'…Yes, but, don't you at least express your sentiments in some way?'

'Mother', Spock said, the corners of his mouth tugging just a millimeter upwards, 'to which "sentiments" are you referring to?'

It was Amanda's turn to raise an eyebrow.

'Son, as much as I love you, I am going to ignore that comment', Amanda said, 'I'm speaking of your regard for this woman. Can't you just… be a tad less… Vulcan…? And give her a present?'

'I do not wish to seek a deeper relationship with miss Uhura', Spock blurted out, then closed his eyes tight. Slip of the tongue.

'Well, why don't we plan on what to give miss Uhura then?' Amanda suggested, 'if you don't want her to know that you like her', Spock was about to make an objection, but Amanda raised her hand, so he shut his mouth again, 'send her an anonymous gift!'

Despite his better judgment, Spock found that there was something about his mother's suggestion that excited him. Inside the half-blood, two sides had begun to collide. Whilst his human side had started to project imagines of possible outcomes, his Vulcan side was screaming to him that those images were beyond logic, and were only speculation. Amanda noticed that he was very quiet.

'It's only logical', Amanda reasoned in the only way her son would grasp, 'that, if you desire the company of someone, you express gratitude through gifts for everything that someone has done to you. Even if it's anonymous, they will feel appreciated.'

A partly unwelcome, partly welcome image of a smiling Uhura flashed through Spock's mind like a swift breeze- he even got the chills.

'Mother, you are suggesting that I should send an anonymous gift?' Spock said. Despite that his mouth was feeling oddly dry; he went on, 'then, hypothetically speaking, what should I choose as a suiting present?'

Amanda failed to suppress a snort.

'Well, hypothetically speaking, I think she would very much enjoy something like a card, perhaps a box of chocolate pralines? Oh and-', she stopped in blank, and shut her eyes tight, a victorious grin on her face, 'flowers. Flowers are really perfect! Roses, tulips, daffodils… girls love flowers! Oh Spock, a bouquet of them all! Or perhaps-'

'Is it earth custom to give away flowers on this day of tomorrow?' Spock interrupted and touched his PADD, deep in thought.

'Yes, well, sort of', Amanda brushed off, 'so, are you going to, then? Give her flowers?'

Spock looked down at his feet and considered it, and then he licked his dry lips and looked up at his mother. Amanda's eyes were shining with warmth as she looked at the shy expression that tinted her son's features.

'I believe I shall. I should need to adjust to earth, and endavouring in participating in such festive events may be a good start', Spock said, 'besides, I find the idea of an expression of gratitude towards the Cadet to be quite pleasant.'

'Oh Spock!' Amanda cried, 'oh Spock, that's so sweet of you! Aren't you just the perfect gentleman? What will you give her, then?'

Inside his brain, Spock went through the name and appearance of every piece of botanic he knew of.

'Of the species of flowers I cultivate in the academy's greenhouse', Spock said, 'I find Rosaceae Rosa to be the most fitting for the occasion.'

'The rose', Amanda whispered, 'yes, that's perfect- on the right track, Spock! Which colour do you have in mind?'

Amanda Grayson was practically singing inside because of the joy she felt of having an almost-normal mother-son conversation with her son, something that, needless to say, didn't occur too often. But on the outside, she kept her cool and observed with glee how her Spock was scratching his chin with his nails, thinking in terms of discreet romantic advances.

'Red', he said decidedly, 'if it's not a red rose, then let there be a yellow tulip.'

As a very well-read woman, Amanda knew very well how to decode the meanings of plants. Because of this, her eyes widened considerably at the two flowers suggested by her son. Never had she thought something similar to this occurrence was possible. And yet, it was.

'Those two flowers… they…' Amanda said weakly, 'they have very… deep… meanings, emotional meanings, Spock.'

'Mother, is the purpose of this event not to express emotional meanings?' Spock said sharply.

'Yes, but-'

'Then it would be illogical to act differently.'

Blinking twice, Amanda finally got the message, so to speak. Spock didn't want her to stick her nose into it, well then, she wouldn't. But the meaning of the flowers was still present inside of her. And, truth be told, it frightened her. Just a tiny bit, she was frightened. Spock turned around and began pacing with small steps. Then he turned around again, to face his mother. He rubbed his eyebrow.

'Yes, yes, a yellow tulip', he said, more to himself than to his mother, 'that should work. Mother', he raised his voice and clasped his hands behind his backs again, 'thank you for this piece of advice. I'm sure it shall be most valuable in my quest to properly adjust to earth.'

'Oh, you don't have to thank me, sweetie, I just want you to be happy', Amanda said, 'are you happy on earth? That's the most important thing.'

'I am…' Spock said slowly, one eyebrow raised, 'not unhappy.'

They were quiet.

'Couldn't you tell me more about the girl?' Amanda asked carefully.

'Everything that needed to be said has been said', Spock said, 'you are trying to further continue this conversation, but I must leave to prepare the class of tomorrow day.'

'…I understand', Amanda said, 'but can't you at least tell me how she looks like?'

'It's insignificant. But if you wish, erhm, cadet Uhura has black hair, quite long, and brown eyes. She is quite slim.'

'She sounds lovely.'

'If that is your opinion. Goodbye, mother.'

'Oh, and Spock!' Amanda exclaimed, her face betraying just the slightest trace of panic, 'you must talk to your father soon. Back at Vulcan, you are quite the elephant in the room- can't you make friends with him again?'

'Goodbye, mother', Spock insisted and reached out his hand in a salute. His mother sighed and did the same.

'Goodbye, Spock.'

The transmission ended, and the room was no longer lit. It was darker than before- the sunset was long gone, and left was but a pitch-black sky. Spock looked out of his office window. The city was large, and Spock recalled that it had approximately one point three million one hundred thousand fifty-three habitants. And each, well, almost each one, of those millions of people were perfectly capable of adjusting to normal customs. Even full-blooded foreign aliens were for most parts able to have rational conversations with other living beings; they had a fully functioning social life.

Spock, even though he held the advantage of being partly human, did not possess that luxury.

Barely ever did he speak to anyone outside of his job, and if he did, he couldn't say he really enjoyed the sensation of having to be the target of people's verbal diarrhea.

That's why; Cadet Uhura had proven to be quite the refreshment.

Cadet Uhura almost always arrived in time, unlike most of her human brethren, which was the first thing Spock noticed about her. The second was her unmatched ability to make people feel lighter. As if she was a fan that blew away all the dust in the air. The third, her oh so talented aural sensibility- it was a bliss hearing her speak different languages- as if painting a gorgeous painting, with personal touches and clolours. She was kind, too, and understanding. She could explain things to him in a way that nobody did, in a way that made him understand most concept without feeling ridiculous for asking. Even though, sometimes he did feels ridiculous around her. But that was because he himself could not control the things he said and did. He once caught himself smiling at her, to which he had punished himself by not speaking to her in three days.

And, of course, she wasn't especially bad-looking either.

Spock closed his eyes and opened again. He exhaled deeply, with the breath; he let out every thought of said Cadet out of his mind. That should do the trick for starters, to stop thinking with the wrong half.

At least for now.