Author's Notes: This was a one and a half year old spark that I was recently inspired to finish...all in one night, of course. mutters incoherently about random slave-driver muses The original idea was for Spock, McCoy, and Jameson to become friends, but my muse was driving and forgot the directions. So instead, Jameson became a nasty bigoted bully, and the focus was narrowed down to our two boys, ages 9 and 12, respectively, in a chance encounter during a visit made by Spock and his mother to cousins in the Old South. This is a one shot for now, but there may be sequels. Much thanks to my betas hypermorphism, Volkar, and Norm.
The Bully
"Hey! Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" The indignant protest came across the bare schoolyard in the form of a skinny, blue-eyed ball of fury. "Leave the kid alone!"
Lenny McCoy's Ma always said he had more compassion than sense. When Jimmy Chambers punched the little Vulcan kid to the ground, Lenny jumped to the alien's aid, despite the fact that Chambers could make mincemeat of him. A fact that Lenny had somehow forgotten till he made his impassioned declaration to a face he had to crane his neck to look up to.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't Loudmouth Lenny McCoy. One day your mouth gonna git you in real trouble," Jimmy sneered, pounding a fist into an open palm. 'Aw, heck!' Lenny thought. The bully continued to speak. "You got a likin' for green pointy ears? Huh, punk?" He gave the skinny preteen a shove.
The Vulcan had by this point picked himself up and stood behind his defender, yellowish bruises starting to blossom across his cheek. "This is not your fight, Lenny McCoy," he said quietly.
"Yeah, 'this is not your fight, Lenny McCoy,'" Jimmy said in a mockingly stiff exaggerated way. He cracked his knuckles. "Better git while the gittin's good." He caught Lenny a blow to the side of the head that sent him skidding in the dirt, and gripped the Vulcan by the collar.
"Why are you doing this?" the alien inquired in calm confusion.
"Because yer a runty little freak whose mamma dresses him funny," smirked Jimmy.
"I assure you that I am at the optimal level of growth for my age group, and that my attire is within the norm of Vulcan dress. I therefore find your entire statement illogical."
"I'll show you 'illogical', you smarmy little robot!" Jimmy said as he swung. The Vulcan managed to dodge most of the blows but still took a vicious hook to the jaw. Green blood trickled from the corner of his lip. "Will ya lookit this pusbucket here!" Jimmy exclaimed to the growing audience.
Lenny rammed the bully from behind, bringing him to his knees. "It's gotta stop, and it's gonna stop right now, Jimmy, so help me God!" he declared, trying to get the taller boy into a headlock.
"You better pray God gonna help you, 'cuz you gonna need it, time I git through with you!" Jimmy growled, reaching behind him to grab Lenny by the back of the neck to neatly flip him over his shoulder. Lenny's back slammed down on hard red clay. Jimmy commenced kicking him in the ribs.
"You will cease this behavior," announced the Vulcan calmly, standing an arms length away from Jimmy.
Jimmy turned and laughed. "Whatcha gonna do ta stop me, you pint-sized, pointy eared freak?" He stomped on Lenny's left hand with his heel as he glared down in challenge at the Vulcan.
In a blur of motion, the Vulcan leaned forward, lifted Jimmy by the shirt collar, and threw him over his shoulder. Jimmy's body collided with the schoolyard safe-T fence five meters away, where he sat in a daze for a moment. The Vulcan was kneeling by Lenny when Jimmy got up and walked out of the yard, revising his opinion of the small but formidable alien.
"Wow! You moved like lightning!" whispered Lenny. "And the way he just went sailing right out there!" He tried to demonstrate with his hands but was only able to curl up and groan.
"Do try not to move. You are injured and require medical attention," the Vulcan said gently. "You," he pointed, "fetch some help." The kid scrambled to find an adult.
"You coulda flipped Jimmy at any time," Lenny commented.
"It is not the Vulcan way to engage in unneeded physical violence. It is used only as a last resort," the Vulcan explained as he elevated Lenny's feet. His first aid texts on humans told him that this would reduce the possibility of shock.
"Well, thanks," grinned Lenny weakly.
The Vulcan blinked. "Whatever for?"
"For rescuing me."
"Oh."
"Say, what's yer name, anyway?"
"My first and ancestral name is nearly unpronounceable in your tongue. I am told it took my mother several years to master it. My given name is Spock."
"Well, Spock, of the unpronounceable surname, I'm Leonard Horatio McCoy." In so saying, he thrust his hand into the other boy's.
The unexpected contact startled Spock as an effusion of alien emotion temporarily overwhelmed his barriers. He gaped in bemusement at their joined hands.
"You shake it, Spock. Like this," Lenny said, demonstrating.
"Ah, so this is an introduction ritual," Spock said, believing he finally understood.
"Well, it could be a, uh, greeting or a, um, somethin' you do when saying goodbye, too," Lenny stammered, trying to come up with words for a concept he never had to explain before.
"So much complexity in one simple gesture," Spock mused, still grasping Lenny's hand.
"Oh, human communications're filled with such gestures. I gather yer people are not very touch friendly," Lenny commented in amusement, seeing how fascinated the Vulcan was with the mundane notion of the handshake.
"No, we are not. Physical contact is restricted to very special circumstances because Vulcans are touch telepaths." Spock looked slightly chagrined to have shared that last bit of information.
"No kiddin'! You mean you can read my thoughts?" Lenny looked up at Spock in amazement.
"The hand does not relay thoughts as well as if I were touching your face. And I am not actively seeking a link. I am merely experiencing your most powerful emotions right now. It is quite a sensation; at times, it is disconcerting."
"So yer an empath, too! That's so cool!" Noticing a slight grimace on the Vulcan's face, he tried to rein in his enthusiasm a notch. "Sorry 'bout that. Ya know, you could let go."
"But, I have not yet finished getting to know you." Spock cocked his head to the side as if to say this were the most plain thing in the world.
"Oh! The handshake is meant to be a short kinda thing. Ya do it, then ya let go." Lenny stifled a giggle as comprehension dawned on that little angular face.
"Ah," Spock said, finally releasing Lenny's now sweaty hand. "I see my higher body temperature has triggered your perspiratory response."
Lenny rolled his eyes. "How do Vulcans greet each other?"
Wiping his hand on his dirt smudged tunic, Spock replied, "We use a hand sign that fills the functions of your handshake." He demonstrated. "Live long and prosper, Leonard."
"I hope so," Lenny groaned, wondering what was taking so long for help to arrive. It took him two hands his first try on the Vulcan hand sign. "Gee, now my hands hurt, too," he quipped.
"I did not wish to cause to you extra discomfort," Spock avowed, looking slightly concerned.
"Relax, Spock. It was a joke," Lenny grinned.
"A...joke?"
"A, uh, story with a humorous climax," Lenny said, trying to phrase it in a way that Spock would understand. "Ya see, humans git so full of emotions, they gotta let 'em out somehow. The, uh, most common way of doing it is through laughter. So, someone cracks a joke, everybody laughs, the emotional tension decreases and all that good stuff."
Spock thought on that for a moment. "It is a wonder humans don't spontaneously combust."
"Ha! That's a good one, Spock!" Lenny laughed until he started coughing a little.
"If you say so, Leonard." Spock looked skeptically at the coughing human. "It was not a story though."
"One liner's don't have to be. The story is the sitiation during which the one liner is told. And you, my friend, are a natural at it."
"I am?"
"Sure's my name's Leonard H. McCoy," the older boy stated.
With a raised eyebrow and a certain mischievous look in his eye, Spock responded, "Have you ever considered a name change?" This resulted in thigh-slapping laughter from his human compatriot.
"Well, looks like his funny bone's intact," drawled a brown-haired gentleman. He dropped down beside the two boys and opened his little black bag. "You been ticklin' it for 'im?"
"Vulcans are incapable of humor, sir." More guffaws followed. Spock cocked an eyebrow. "I do believe he has become hysterical, Doctor," he said airily.
"Oh, I'ma git you fer that one!" Lenny chuckled as the doctor swiftly mended his hand and ribs with one of his gadgets. He could tell by Spock's eyes that he was laughing inside. It was a start.
"Well, Lenny, we done fixed you mostly up. You're gonna have several nice shiny ones; your Vulcan friend here, too. Here, lemme get that lip, boy." Dr. David McCoy used another gadget from his bag to mend Spock's cut lip. "There. Good as new. Up you both get," he said as he stood and dusted his pants off. "Say your goodbyes; your Ma's got supper all ready for us."
"Well, Spock, g'bye. It was great meeting you. Let's do it again sometime, without the whole pain bit," he cracked, smiling. He once again attempted to produce the Vulcan hand sign.
Spock let a bit of a smile show. He reached out and grasped Leonard's hand and shook it. "Live long and prosper, Leonard H. McCoy. And thank you."
"For what?"
"For being my friend." Spock released Lenny's hand once again and turned to walk home.
"You're welcome!" Lenny called as he followed his Pa in to supper.
END