For all of the questions that Algren had been dreading about his class since he'd learned of the influx of parents this weekend, what he had woken up this morning worried the most about was, what in the world was he supposed to wear? He had all of one modern outfit, worn until it was more or less threadbare now (thus putting his interest in this
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"Professor Algren? I'm Spock's mother." She smiled warmly and offered a handshake. "Amanda Grayson. It's a pleasure to meet you."
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"I haven't been, in this century," he replied, nodding his head faintly. "I'm actually here from over a century in the past, myself."
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It was easier to not dwell on that much too thoroughly.
"I admit, yes, it was a shock. But most of the surprises were pleasant ones. I'll adjust in time, or I'll leave for the era in which I belong, when it's my time to do so."
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But somehow, he managed.
"I imagine Spock's reasoning on that front probably had a good deal to do with Professor Kirk's somewhat unorthodox methods of teaching," he replied, offering her a slight, almost apologetic smile. "He's particularly enthusiastic about the subject matter," because it was sex, "and he'll go through great lengths to make certain that the students have a clear grasp on it in whatever manner he believes is most effective."
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That was possibly the nicest way he was ever, ever going to be able to put it.
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That silent prayer said, he nodded slightly, rising to his feet again.
"Thank you for the visit," he replied. "Should you have any other concerns regarding your son, please, feel free to contact me."
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