She was in her room on Earth, trying to sleep. He had been in his room on Vulcan, listening to his parents discuss the most recent bout of trouble he'd gotten into earlier that day, also trying to sleep. So far the attempting to sleep was the only common factor and really, there wasn't much outstanding about such a thing. With a mild frown he hid by turning his gaze back to the curtains, Spock brushed his fingertips lightly against the fabric as he pondered what other common thread they might share.
He was all set to ask her another question when she instead asked him one that he honestly didn't want to answer. If he was truthful he wouldn't be a very good Vulcan and lying was something he found quite distasteful. Yet what seemed like such a simple question - was he worried - really had on simplistic response.
Turning so he could look at her once more, he gave a barely noticeable shrug of his thin shoulders. "To worry would be illogical," he pointed out evenly. "Worry clouds the judgment and it will take a focused mind to discover why we are here and how we may return to where we belong."
Finished speaking, he turned back to the window and found himself hoping that she didn't point out that he hadn't actually answered her question. Not in a personal way, at least. Instead he'd merely recited bits and pieces of his lessons and hoped she'd let him leave it at that.
Wanting to ensure that she did precisely as he wished, Spock chose that moment to pull back the curtain and revealed the window behind it. At the sight of the city that greeted him, even he was unable to keep the slightly shocked expression from his face.
"Nyota," he spoke, his voice sounding somewhat distant and airy. "I believe you should see this for yourself."