#background spones

Little Jo, turning ten, picked out the tiniest tortoise of the bunch. She was excited to bring him home and give him loads of love and attention. Leonard was grateful she chose a long-lived pet, having known the deep loss of his first pet, Cuddles the cat. Joss took a while to warm up to the little guy but loved having someone to eat her melon rinds. Mister Torty didn’t bark or scratch things, and the most he’d done was accidentally bite their fingers when they were careless while feeding. Overall, he was a surprisingly welcome addition that showed them how responsible their baby girl was.

Over the years, over the decades, little Mister Torty became not so little. When he got too big to live in the house, Leonard, Uncle Jim, and Clay fixed up a section of the yard to house him. Aunty Ny helped Jo build a small dictionary that she and Mister Torty used to communicate through colored buttons that say a word when pressed. Uncle Hikaru and Ben helped Jo plant a garden full of Mister Torty’s favorite fruits and veggies. Uncle Scotty engineered a hover device specifically for when Mister Torty gets too ornery to return from their walks.

But the biggest job of all was for Mister Spock, and Jo only asked him after he and her daddy got married. She was scared at first, but she was nearly an adult and knew how much longer her friend would live compared to her. Jo also knew how much longer Spock would live compared to her and her daddy. It wasn’t the most pleasant topic, but Jo did promise her parents that she would care for Mister Torty for the rest of his life, not hers.

The next shore leave after their wedding, when they were visiting her momma’s place, Jo pulled Spock aside for a walk around Mister Torty’s enclosure. “Did you know that Mister Torty will live to be between 150 and 175 yeas old?” she started quietly.

“With your dutiful care, he may very well live beyond that.”

“I... won’t.”

Spock put a hand on Joanna’s shoulder and guided her to the picnic bench. Mister Torty saw this and came bounding as fast as a tortoise could, knowing that was where he was usually spoiled with love and treats. “What is on your mind, Joanna?”

“Will you take care of Mister Torty for me when I can’t anymore?” Jo popped the lid on the fruits and veggie scraps and started feeding the tortoise. “You don’t have to or anythin’, but I don’t have kids, and I’m not sure I want ‘em. I want to make sure he’s taken care of no matter what happens.”

“It would be my greatest honor to care for Mister Tort-ty,” Spock assured, still struggling with the childish name. “Though with your father’s efforts, your future efforts, and the general stubbornness of McCoys, I foresee both of you reaching ages that will rival even tortoises.”

Jo laughed and agreed, and later that evening they made up a special will that assigning Spock as Mister Torty’s primary caretaker if she’s ever unable to care for him. Joss and Clay would take care of him while she went off to medical school and then Starfleet Academy, though. Knowing that Mister Torty’s future was guaranteed, Jo could venture out into adulthood and her career with ease. And when she became a commissioned officer and joined the Hope with her daddy and Spock, they let her bring Mister Torty with them. 

(Sorry, I made it sad after this.)

Nearly a century and a half later, Spock found himself on New Vulcan with his tortoise companion. His bondmate had long since passed peacefully, as did Joanna. He did not expect to inherit the lifespan of a Vulcan, especially considering his counterpart’s shorter life. Spock did not want it, but Leonard’s last wish was for Spock to live as long as he could and to look after Joanna. Joanna made the same wish, though it was now Mister Torty he was to look after.

Spock was never more grateful for agreeing to take care of Mister Torty, for he was a companion that loved Leonard and Joanna as he did and enjoyed sharing those memories. Spock smiled at the memory that started it all: Leonard making a foolish bet that Mister Torty did not have a memory as good as a human’s and Joanna begging Spock to perform a mind meld. Leonard lost, of course. But Spock won more than fake credits that day.

Though both had slowed with age, they maintained a daily walking routine around the estate and ate their meals in the tortoise-friendly garden Spock and Leonard had constructed ages ago with the help of their friends. It was a peaceful living for both of them and suited their needs as much as anything could when the loves of their life had returned to the universe. At the end of each night, they would share a meld and tell each other a story. Spock was fond of the routine, it gave him some form of purpose.

-

Sarek watches Spock walk ahead of him through the market stalls, his son’s eyes focused on the snow gently falling around them. The city on Tamod where the conference was held is renowned throughout the galaxy as a trading hub, and Spock had been interested in exploring it before they returned to Vulcan. Sarek had decided to go with him after realizing it would work to his advantage.

It is his son’s birthday tomorrow. Sarek had not seen the logic in celebrating his birthday while he was growing up, but lately he has found it better to actively bridge gaps, rather than create new ones.

At least the conference had gone well. It was one of the few negotiations he and Spock actually agreed upon, and while Sarek has come to enjoy their debates, it is a relief to be at peace for once. Usually they do not speak for months after one of their arguments, but today there is no tension as Spock looks for a birthday gift for Leonard and Sarek discreetly looks for a birthday gift for his son.

His eyes catch on a stall selling makeup and other accessories. Makeup on Vulcan has always been considered an artistic form, a way of expressing thoughts and emotions that are socially unacceptable otherwise. Sarek had been interested in the traditional forms as a young adult, and had been unreasonably pleased when Spock picked up the same interest.

Sarek has long since stopped wearing it regularly, due to his hands not being as steady as they once were, but his son still applies it almost daily.

Sarek peruses the stall’s wares. The people of Tamod have strong visual acuity, and thus their culture and traditions often focus on the way light hits various objects. This is evident even in their makeup, for many of the palettes that Sarek picks up glimmer when tilted against the weak sunlight at just the correct angle.

Sarek has always found the combination of math and art pleasing, as does his son.

A quick glance at Spock shows that he has stopped at a stall several meters ahead, staring intently at some sort of alcoholic beverage made from fermented fruit native to the planet, and thus should be sufficiently distracted. Sarek selects a purple and blue palette that shines like a sparkling galaxy in the light, pays the vendor, and then slips it into his sleeve. By the time Spock turns away from his own stall, Sarek is already walking towards him, and he doubts it is evident to his son that he even stopped.

“Father,” Spock says. “I have selected a bottle of fermented kosa for Leonard, but I thought Mother might want one as well.”

Sarek nods. “Indeed, she would.”