Lifting a card from the top of the deck. Spock huffed a soft breath, as Jim grinned manically.
For Jim he would do this. But also for the soft glow in his mother's eyes when he agreed to play along with their card games.
Gin rummy. Then poker. And today - 50 questions, have I ever, against humanity. Jim insisted they played all 3 at once because playing 1 was boring.
Spock stared at the card in his hand, with a question he was to ask his mother.
"Who received your first love confession?"
"Ooooooouuuhhh was it love at first sight? How long before you confessed? What did he say?" Jim gushed excitedly. Throwing disregard to the rules of the game. For the 76th time. Spock had stopped reminding Jim of the rules after the 33rd time.
Amanda smiled softly as her gaze took on a far away look.
"It was. Only a few days after we met face to face, for the first time. He didn't say anything."
Jim gasped. A hand to his heart. Spock huffed another soft breath, one he would deny was out of fond exasperation.
"How could he?! I'll be having words with Sarek."
Amanda's mirth sparkled in her eyes, shaking her head slightly at Jim's theatrics.
"It wasn't Sarek Jim. I've never had a need of confessions with my husband."
Wide eyed, a soft huh escaping Jim as Spock felt more than saw his thyla's mind churn over that information.
Looking at his mother, Spock found her already gazing at him.
Enraptured. Spock’s mind was slow in trying to recall the exact moments he had seen that endearing look in her eyes. The many moments which Spock had always filed away. Unable to place an accurate name to her expression.
Amanda reached out, a slender fingertip touching gently at the meld point on his temple.
"You were just a baby, Spock." She said, her fondness at the memory like a ripe fruit during harvest season, a breeze against his mental landscape. Sweet like her scent was when Spock still allowed her warm embrace. Comforting like when she held him when I-chaya passed.
"My first confession, was to you.