Advent Calendar Sarek/Amanda Stories

Advent 2011

Day 1 of Advent

Baby Names

Author:  Ster Julie
Codes:  Am (Sa/Am referenced); TOS; Sarek & Amanda Advent Calendar
Rating:  PG
Part 1 of 1
Summary:  A pregnant Amanda gets a call from her mother.

A/N:  So, I haven't written anything in months, and I wanted to try a new writing style. This is written in dialogue, but you only get to know what one character is saying.  Hopefully the dialogue will have enough contextual clues that you can figure out what is going on…

--ooOoo—

Hi, Mom!

Uh huh.

Uh huh.

Uh huh. <yawn>

No, I'm fine.

No, really.

Well I look tired because it's late.  Did you forget the differences in our times zones again?

Yes, ma'am.  Sorry for being impertinent.

Sarek is fine, too.  Well…

It's just that…  Mom, was Dad afraid to touch you when you were carrying me?

Oh, my!

Mom, I didn't need to hear that much detail.

Yes, I said that Sarek is afraid to touch me.

No, not like that.  He's helping me out so much that he is underfoot.

It's just that…  When I want him to be… you know… intimate, he makes all sorts of excuses.

Well, I'm sorry you feel like that.  I love Sarek and he cherishes me.

What do you mean you can't stand the idea of his alien paws all over me?  He's a Vulcan, Mom, not an animal.  And for your information, your little grandson will be half Vulcan, so you'd better get used to the idea quickly if you plan to have any part in your grandson's life.

Yes.

Grandson.

It's a boy.

No, we haven't picked out a name.

Sylvester?

Mom, I can't name my Vulcan son after your cat Sylvester.

I don't care that Sylvester starts with an S.

Mom, I have another ancestral name picked out.

Yes, from your family tree.

It's a great compromise name.  It fits the Vulcan pattern, yet it was also the name of a famous human.

Remember how you used to tell me about your ever-so-great grandfather Benjamin?

END

Day 2 of Advent

Shining Light through Darkness

Or

`Surak's Day'

By Karracaz in answer to the Sarek and Amanda Advent Calendar Challenge.

O0o

Deep in darkness we begin,
dark outside and deep within.
Now ignite a single flame,
shadows form, let light remain.
Flaming brightly, let love shine,
flaming out through space and time…

o0o

Amanda, softly crooning the words of the Terran hymn, held her breath as she set light to the tapering candle that, one among many, crammed the low table. That first tiny flame appeared to hesitate, feebly glimmering before the wick caught, but then tenaciously clung to life even in the face of a sudden draught from Sarek's study door. As the flame grew in strength and light, Amanda grinned, nodding in silent praise.

Just as in the hymn, shadows danced in the twilight gloom as she crossed to even more candles gathered on the top of the deep storage chest.  Once again, she sang - but this time raised her voice slightly - and impishly changed a word or two…


As they gleaned the word of life,
narrative of love and strife,
Ti-Valka'ain  through each age has known
yet more light: a'Tha's glory shown…..


 Just to see if anyone happened to be paying attention, of course.


As she reached up to finally light the branching arms of the tall asen'ahbre, the candle-tree - one of a pair that stood each side of the arch leading into the garden - she heard Sarek's soft tread behind her.

His arms entwined her waist; long fingers spread across her abdomen, as his rich baritone, only slightly off key in that disharmony from which Vulcans often seemed to glean pleasure, joined her own in the refrain:


Flaming brightly, let love shine,
flaming out through space and time…


Amanda, head against his shoulder, leaned back into his warmth and the sense of restrained power, while the varied scents of baking - mostly krayla biscuits, spiced Kaferian apples and ginger cookies, but also a hint of  roasted a'kura root and mulled  tsa'e - wafted in from the interior of the house. The enticing aromas wreathed about them and made Amanda's mouth water with anticipation of the feast to come.

"You have something to tell me, my wife?"

Amanda sighed in momentary chagrin.   She ought to have known she couldn't hide anything from him.  Those Vulcan senses, so eerily perceptive, had discerned her secret joy. "I suppose you'll tell me this too was predestined - like our first meeting?" **

He inclined his head, cinnamon breath warm against her cheek and murmured, "It is the natural order of the Universe, my wife. We are K'diwa.  Two halves of the same soul."

She turned lithely in his arms so she could look up into dark hawk-eyes, the words of the hymn resonating in her mind…

Mary wondered at her lot,
blessed? Or cursed? Or loved? Or not?


Like Mary, cursed she might be, but it was a sacred burden, happily carried.  Though Sarek had never voiced it outright, Amanda could never doubt his love. It was true, deep, and timeless.


"Healer Sonak confirmed it this morning.  You're going to be a father after all. The child's a boy, a son. Our son, Spock."

He nodded smug as a cat that got the cream, "I shall inform T'Pau in the morning."

His eyes gleamed in the blaze of the candlelight, capturing her gaze.  She watched, almost spellbound, as his lips descended.  The kiss was like the soldering heat that bound metal to metal, a savage compulsion, a gift so rare it was beyond price.  Breathless, mouth burning with fire, she clung to him.

Instantly, he lifted her up, cradling her against his chest, his expression suddenly pensive. "I ask forgiveness.  This has been an eventful day. You should rest, my wife."

 Lips pressed into the hollow of his neck, Amanda laughed softly, "Hmmm, I hope you're going to be this conscientious throughout my pregnancy.  I think I could grow to like it. Happy Surak Day, my husband …"

"Surak's  Blessing  be with you, also, my wife."

And, burning ever bright, their love shone, flaming out through space and time.


 The End.
**Ice and Fire

Day 3 of Advent

A Miracle Almost Missed

By Starfleetdream

A/N: A bit of angst and romance...

December 3, 2229

Sarek stared down at the festivities below his window, lost in thought. The street had been closed to traffic and turned into a fanciful holiday faire,  it was called, complete with artificial snow, some Terran reindeer and a human dressed as the mythical figure Santa Claus.  Revelers now filled the street, but the scene held little interest for him. He was about to turn away to meditate when the door to his quarters chimed.  It slid open to reveal Amanda, her face solemn, eyes downcast.

"Amanda."  She looked up at the sound of his voice, and he was taken aback by the sadness in her eyes.

"Sarek, I can only stay for a minute.  I thought it best that I tell you in person -- I've accepted the position at Harvard.  I'll be starting next semester, and I ...I'm leaving for Boston this week." Her voice had fallen to a whisper.

It took him a moment to absorb her words.  Her action was, of course, logical.  And logically of no concern to him as he himself was departing imminently to Vulcan -- to take a wife.  Still, he was shaken to the core at the thought of her leaving here...leaving him.

"You are leaving -?"

"Tomorrow." Her tone suddenly hardened.  "I thought it best that we put some space between us, given the circumstances."  Then her voice shook. "I just wanted to say...goodbye, and wish you well.  It's traditional to say 'congratulations.'" Amanda blinked back tears.  She would not make a scene in front him.  "Please, don't say anything, Sarek -- I have to go!"  She had planned to offer him the ta'al and the traditional farewell, but she couldn't manage it.  She turned and, walking as fast as possible without running, fled back down the corridor -- leaving him alone.

Sarek felt his control slipping into a maelstrom of emotion.  Surely, this was for the best -- they both had their own obligations, and considering that anything could be otherwise between them, given their vast differences, was surely folly.  And yet -- her receding form in his mind's eye, he felt as if he was losing his very equilibrium, his grip on life itself.

He suddenly realized how blind he had been to his own self.  He could not attempt a bonding with any woman on his home world, he now knew: his katra had already been claimed.  And she was running away from him.

Without another thought he was out the door and following her into the street.  His feet slipped on the unfamiliar artificial snow as he scanned the crowd.  Catching sight of her just before she disappeared into the throng, he closed the distance between them with large strides, nearly knocking her down as he slid to a stop in front of her.

Amanda looked up, confused.  But before she could say anything, he swept her up in his arms and into a passionate kiss, completely uncaring for the mass of humanity surrounding them.  When they finally broke apart, he stared intently into her wide eyes.

“Amanda,” he breathed, “Please stay with me. Forever.”

At her answering smile, he gently took her hand and led her back toward the embassy, the surprised crowd parting silently to let them pass.

END

A/N: I have a great picture in my mind of the two of them in the snow, Sarek's robe swirling around them.  Alas, my drawing skills are not up to the task!

Day 4 of Advent

First Rain

Author:  Elizabeth Leicester
Code:  Sarek, Amanda, Spock
Series:  TOS
Rating:  PG

Disclaimer:  Star Trek et al is owned by Paramount.  No infringement or disparagement is intended by the author.

o0o

Summary:  Amanda and Spock prepare for the Vulcan holiday of First Rain while they wait for Sarek to return home from his diplomatic assignment.

Notes:  'First Rain' is a sequel of sorts to 'Beginnings.'  I have tried to include enough information so that you don't have to have read that story first to understand this one.

Caz had sort of suggested that someone should write a story for Thanksgiving.  I had two ideas, this is one of them.

o0o

The suns were low in the sky as Amanda put on the sand cloak, her 'burka' she called it.  It enveloped her small frame and kept the stinging sand from blistering her skin.  Here in the mountains, however, where the sand was not as prevalent, it kept out the cold and the wind.  She took the smaller cloak from its hook on the slate wall and went to her little son who was dutifully pulling the large gathering basket, both hands grasping the handle, dragging it along the stone floor because he could not pick it up.  It was almost bigger than he was.

Amanda smiled quietly and took it from him, putting it aside long enough to wrap him up in preparation for the late afternoon task.  Swathed in the warm alpaca cloak, he never failed to remind her of an elf.  Satisfied with the results, she stood and picked up the basket.  'Come pi'shayu,' she called.  She did not look back.  She knew he would be following her out the door, his little legs moving quickly in order to keep up with her.

Mother and son walked down the path from their adobe, past the last of the servants' housing, through the open gate of the vast stone wall that ringed the mountain domicile of her husband's tveshu, his family of origin.

It had been four years.  Four years since Sarek's last pon farr and her own unexpected conception.  Four years since her stubborn insistence on keeping that child had blown their lives apart.  They were still doing penance for going against the established order, for living against the precepts of Surak.  But Surak had never actually said anything against this, never said anything about a male choosing his own mate or living with his tveshu instead of with his wife's family.  Surak had only insisted a man be bonded in order to prevent the unchecked violence that invariably accompanied the Fires.  The wife of a bonded man would feel his thoughts and sense the coming of the Time and he would be drawn to her.  At least this was how it was written.  Of course the tradition of a man living with his wife's family predated Surak.  Everyone knew this.  Their sin, hers and Sarek's, was of going against this tradition, of marrying outside the 'natural order' of things.  Violating Surak was
 just an excuse, an official justification.

Amanda continued along the footpath, with Spock in her wake, past the cultivated gardens and out to the rugged, brushy country.  Palla trees and pad cactus studded the hills and crags.  Amanda set the basket down and began removing various items and tools: a small basket for Spock, diggers, a hand laser and, most essential, a pair of thick gloves.  She gave the small basket to Spock with the directive to go and gather palla beans.  While he did this, she donned the gloves and began to harvest cactus pears from a pad plant that had been particularly fruitful.

The summer was at an end.  Soon, the entire House of T'Pau, women, men, children and servants would pack up and move down into the valley to the winter enclave on the Sas-a-shar plains.  And Sarek would come home, at least for a month.

This was not the life she had envisioned for herself. No, she thought, as she placed the pears and some of the more succulent cactus pads in the basket, this was not what she had had in mind when she had agreed to be a part of Sarek's 'harem.'  She had just wanted to study Vulcan culture and history.  She had certainly gotten more than she had bargained for.

Amanda looked up to see Spock coming towards her, his basket brimming with palla beans.

'Are we going to eat this Mehmi?' he asked.

'Indeed,' she replied.  'These are for First Rain,' she explained.  'We will fill this basket up and take it in to Vanek.  He will be quite pleased and he will make traditional dishes for the celebration.'

The little boy thought for a moment.  'We talked about that in class,' he told his mother seriously.  'We are learning songs and dances for it.'

Amanda could not help but smile.  Last year, he had been too young to participate.  How he had grown!  'I can't wait to see what your class does,' she said.

'Will Assa be home?' he asked, referring to his father.

'I hope so,' Amanda admitted.  'Remember when we talked to him last?'  The boy nodded in response.  'He said that he was applying for leave.'  She sighed quietly, thinking about that last conversation.  She missed him so much, but his absence was part of the price they had paid.  She shook off the thoughts and took in the results of their labours.  The basket was almost full.  Putting the beans and the tools on top, she hefted it on to her hip.

'Let's take this in,' she said to Spock.  'It will be time for end meal soon.'

As they walked together down the sloping path that led back to the domicile, Amanda took in all that was her son:  the dark head, the long eyelashes, the elegant ears, the little form wrapped in russet, the tiny feet encased in desert boots.  Oh, he would break hearts someday!  She could still remember the day he was born.  The healer laid him on her stomach and two dark obsidian eyes peered at her, knew her.  And she knew then, as she still knew now, that everything she and Sarek had endured and would endure was worth it if it meant the existence of this exquisite, marvelous creature that was her son.

~~**~~

First Rain was an ancient holiday, one that had been celebrated for millennia.  The name conveyed the meaning precisely.  It was a celebration of the end of the blistering summer and the beginning of the rainy season.  It commemorated the blessed, healing rains which promised the end of desolation and famine and the beginning of new life and prosperity.

Modern Golic civilisation was not completely at the mercy of the environment as it had been in the past.  Ancient Vulcans, moving from plain to mountain with the seasons, much as they still did today, knew the importance of those first rains, knew their lives depended on them.  And underlying the celebrations, as it did with many commemorations throughout the galaxy, was fear.  What if the rains did not come, the sun not return, the winds not blow? whatever was essential to the existence of the people and culture expressing their utter gratitude for the inevitable.

There would be feasting and singing and dancing.  The children would perform plays, recite poems and stories; the men would gather around the hearths in the kitchens and the women in the large communal hall.  Everyone would eat too much and drink too much and work it off a few weeks later during Atonement.

But out of all this, the most important thing about First Rain for Amanda was that Sarek would return.  Because of her, he had lost his position in the diplomatic corps and had virtually had to start over as an aide to one of the senior diplomats on Tellar.  For the past three years, they had barely seen one another.  He came home twice a year, for First Rain and the Remembrance Days and while his stays lasted at least a month, it never seemed long enough to either of them.  Someday perhaps, the gods, or at least the Clan Convergence, would forgive them and they would no longer be separated.  It was Sarek's belief that would occur after his next Time.  They would have to endure the ordeal on their own, with little help from anyone save an attendant or two.  After that, surely the Convergence would relent and ask the High Council for reprieve.  But that was at least three years away, three more years of separation, of living one step above servant in the tveshu, of enduring raised
 eyebrows and condescending looks.

It wasn't so bad, Amanda decided.  They had both known what they were facing when they had married.  But Spock had had no say in this.  He was just a child and one that was beginning to notice that their status in the House of T'Pau was not as it should be.  When they moved to the winter enclave, he would no longer have class with his aunts and uncles and cousins but with the unrelated children of servants and support staff.  So far, she had been able to deflect his questioning, divert his curiosity, but once winter school began, she would have to tell him the truth.  She had considered teaching him in the small apartments that would be allotted to them but that would only serve to further isolate him and affirm the point that everyone was always trying to make:  Spock was not truly Vulcan.  Amanda already knew, had known from the moment she was aware of his existence, that Spock would never be accepted on his homeworld.  He would always have to prove himself.  She hoped that
 someday, he would truly find a home.  Until that time, she would provide it as best she could, but she would not shield him from his fate.  Instead she would support him and try to give him strength for what lay ahead.

~~**~~

The day which was designated as First Rain dawned, gray and misty.  It wasn't always so.  Sometimes the suns blazed as if they would never relent, never give in to the gentle, life-giving rains.  In ancient times, the holiday would not be celebrated until rain actually fell.  But over the centuries, as civilisation progressed and people became more logical and less superstitious, First Rain became tied to the fall equinox and the start of the new year.  The day would be especially significant since the rains had actually begun.

Amanda lay in bed, listening to the rain that was too soft to hear, savouring this time of quiet before the day's events began.  She turned, snuggling up next to her sleeping husband.

He had returned home late last night.  She had heard the shuttle flying over the tveshu, had heard it as it landed out at the shuttleport, had listened at the sounds of a flitter coming into the domicile, at soft footsteps walking down the path, at the sound of their door opening.

And now, he was here.  She reached out and put a hand in his hair, feeling its softness, caressing his head, resting in his essence.  It was absolutely illogical to love him and even more so to have married him.  But she found that she couldn't help herself.  Somewhere in the middle of the trial that had been her pregnancy, in the middle of monitors and confinement among people who merely tolerated her, she had fallen in love with him.  She had never understood why exactly.  She certainly hadn't planned it.  But in all the chaos, he always seemed to be there, even when he wasn't.

He would never admit that he returned her feelings and yet she knew he did.  It was there in his care, in his touch, in his longing.  Even more than these, it was in his willingness to give up everything for her.  He hadn't had to marry her.  His parents, the Family, the Matriarch herself, had all counseled strongly against it.  He was threatened with censure and loss of career and still he cast his lot with a komihn, ready to pay the price.

They would never be able to comprehend his reasoning.  But she knew.  She had felt it, understood it the very first time their bond was forged.  With her, he had found what he had been seeking for decades, what his empty soul had hungered for.  He would not call it love, but that's exactly what it was.

She could feel him stirring now, awakening to consciousness.  She smiled as he turned towards her, opening his eyes.

'Abundant rain,' she said quietly, reciting the traditional First Rain greeting.

'Abundant rain,' he returned.  Gently he reached out and stroked the side of her face with two fingers.

Amanda closed her eyes, breathing him in as his presence flooded her mind.  Of course she could always feel him, as though he were in the next room or down the hall.  But now that he was physically here, the experience was intensified.  And when he touched her, moved in with his mind the way he was doing now, it was close to being overwhelming.  Yet she met him eagerly, hungrily, almost devouring him.  The force of her desire always surprised and overpowered him.  Stereotypically, Vulcans were the strong ones.  Terrans were supposedly weak.  But not his wife, not when she had been deprived of his mind and body for months.

There was desperation in this union, in her.  He tried to calm her, tried to envelope her in his soul.  She clung to him and he could feel grief, like the showers of the first rains, washing over him.

//It has been difficult for you my wife,// he thought.  His words took shape over and under and through their mental embrace.

//No more than usual,// she admitted.  //But time doesn't make our separations any easier.//

//Illogical,// came the pronouncement.

Laughter rained through them, scattering like drops on a windy day.

Somewhat taken aback, he reminded her,// We are bonded, Amanda.  We are never separate.//

The wind shower quieted.  //I know,// she acknowledged.  //And it should be enough for me.  But it isn't.//

Again, he could feel her sadness, a steady ever present rain.

//I don't think I can do this for three more years.//  It was a truth that was hard to expose and he could feel her anguish at the admission.

//You will not have to,// he told her, holding out the thought like a wrapped gift.

The statement startled her emotional state but he could still feel her grief dripping from the eaves of her mind.

She looked at his secret, at this truth still hidden from her.

//What is this?// she asked.

And suddenly the gift he had been holding back was revealed.  Their union deepened into joy as she realised the truth:  their willingness to quietly bear the burdens they had been given had paid off.  After the holiday break, he would be reassigned as ambassador to Setlik Prime.  And he could take his family with him.

Light sang through them, bright and joyous.  Sarek marveled at this ability she had to be sad one moment and rapturous the next.  It was always a new world and he found that instead of repulsing him, it made her all that more attractive.

She was quiet now, slowly calming, breathing steadily, coming into her own self, but the taste and feel of him remained and would remain with her for the rest of the day.  She opened her eyes and smiled into his dark ones.

'We'd better get moving before they change their minds,' she joked, kissing him on the forehead as she threw back the covers.

She laughed at his expression.  Amazement and confusion, along with love, mingled on his face, giving him that look that humans often interpreted as one of condescension.  But she knew better.

She rose from the bed and went in the other room to check on Spock.  It would be a busy day, the day of First Rain.

The rains brought many things:  the return of life, the gathering of Family.  This time, they had also brought something for Amanda.  They had brought her husband and the promise of hope.

Finis

Day 5 of Advent

Under the Mistletoe

Author: T'Lea and Saidicam

Rating: PG for potentially offensive language

Codes: Sa/Am, Soran

Disclaimer: Let’s see...Paramount owns all Star Trek characters and the Star Trek universe...everything else in this story is the product of our sick minds.

Thanks to Selek... not just for the betaing, but for the “inspiration”. ;-)

Summary: Amanda invites Vulcan Ambassador Sarek and his aide Soran to experience the Terran holidays with her family.

Amanda Grayson pulled the desk chair to the doorway to hang her last decoration. The sound of Bing Crosby warbling ‘White Christmas’ could be heard throughout the normally-subdued halls of the Vulcan Embassy’s Language Department.

“Just like the ones I used to know,” Amanda belted out the familiar chorus as she leaned precariously off the edge of the chair to hang the tiny sprig of mistletoe over the entrance to her classroom.

Amanda adjusted the mistletoe so that it hung at just the right level. She was really getting into the season. As she swayed her hips in tune to the melodic beat of the music, she became aware of a presence below her. "Sarek!" Amanda jumped, startled by the Vulcan's unexpected arrival and lost her balance.

Strong hands grabbed her waist and she was safely lowered to the floor. She felt her face color with embarrassment.

"If you insist on renovating your workspace, Amanda, would not a ladder be a more logical piece of equipment for climbing than your chair?" The twinkle in his eye negated any censure from his words.

"Perhaps, Ambassador, but the chair was handy, a ladder was not. And I was merely hanging a piece of mistletoe which hardy qualifies as a renovation, I should think." She waited for his next verbal volley, but was interrupted by a third voice that she had not realized was even there.

"At any rate, I think we can all agree that Miss Grayson is no longer in danger of falling," Soran, Sarek's chief advisor and closest friend, glanced meaningfully at Sarek's hands, which were still wrapped around Amanda's midsection.

Sarek raised an eyebrow at Soran as he took his hands from Amanda’s body and folded them in front of him. Apparently Soran had fully embraced the Terran practice of teasing, Sarek mused. It complimented Sarek’s own style satisfactorily.

Amanda stepped back to allow the men to enter, and as each Vulcan crossed the threshold she reached up to plant a soft kiss against his cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Sarek. Merry Christmas, Soran.”

Startled, Sarek and Soran looked at each other, identical eyebrows raised in wonder. Sarek was under the impression that Christmas was a religious holiday of some sort. He now wondered if perhaps it was some sort of mating ritual. He knew that Terrans kissed as a means of expressing interest in bonding with a member of the opposite sex. Did this mean that Amanda was considering himself as well as Soran as potential suitors? He noticed that the tips of Soran’s ears were flushed green as they both took a seat before Amanda's desk.

"You guys are early tonight. I thought you'd be in meetings until at least six,” Amanda commented as she sat down behind her desk. Since Amanda had come to the embassy four months ago to teach idiomatic English to the embassy staff, she, Sarek, and Soran had begun a cultural exchange of sorts where they met a few times a week to teach each other of their cultures and people. What started out as a 'logical' solution to everyone's desire to learn more about another culture had facilitated a strong and steadfast friendship among the trio.

"Ambassador Marshall seemed eager to end our meeting early tonight. No doubt he is distracted by the same phenomenon as you," Soran commented, gesturing to the walls of her classroom that had been transformed in one afternoon from a stark embassy setting into a winter wonderland.

"We could return at our appointed time, if you'd prefer, Amanda," Sarek offered.

"No! I'm finished in here anyway. I haven't eaten though...do you guys want to go out somewhere or order in?" She didn't need to ask if they'd be willing to dine with her as they often went to dinner together when they collaborated.

Sarek and Soran glanced at each other briefly, and Soran silently bowed his head to his superior, putting the decision in his hands. "We would prefer to eat here, Amanda," Sarek responded. "We find the current atmosphere in town to be...”

“Crazy,” Amanda supplied.

“It is somewhat… overwrought,” Sarek responded tactfully. Soran nodded his head in agreement.

“It was a madhouse when I went out to lunch. I used to wonder why my father called it the ‘Silly Season’ and now I understand,” Amanda confided.

"It does seem to cause certain changes in human behavior," Sarek inserted, referring to the kiss she had bestowed on them earlier. He became acutely aware of the warm spot on his face where her lips had touched. He felt the tips of his ears burn at the memory. He furiously applied his bio-controls, and looked at Amanda out of the corner of his eye. He noticed that her face was suffused with a light red color.

“It’s tradition,” Amanda blurted out of the blue.

“Tradition?” Sarek repeated.

“Yes. You are supposed to kiss someone under the mistletoe,” she explained.

“Ah,” Soran replied as if this cleared up the matter completely.

“Indeed,” Sarek added. He was still curious about this ‘tradition’ but was uncertain how to pursue the topic.

“Yes, it is. Well, then.” Amanda’s face turned redder. “Let me order dinner.” Amanda looked purposefully at her computer and brought up several menus on the screen.

"How about some lasagna from Michelangelo’s?" Amanda asked.

“Vegetarian lasagna,” Soran reminded her. He arched an eyebrow when she rolled her eyes melodramatically.

"Yes, yes, I know! You guys are Vulcans after all...do you really think it's necessary to specify ‘vegetarian’ every time we eat?” she teased.

“Yes, I do,” Soran responded soberly. “Especially after the incident with the burritos at La Fiesta.” The corner of his mouth twitched upward in what Amanda knew to be a smile. There had been some sort of language barrier, and whatever it was that Amanda had translated into Spanish for the waiter was most certainly not vegetarian. In fact, it had been some sort of animal part that even Amanda herself was squeamish about consuming.

“But I didn’t let you guys eat it, did I? I fixed the order with the cook and everything was fine. In fact, if I am not mistaken, it is you, Soran, who requests that we go for burritos at least once a week,” Amanda said with a smile. She had actually been mortified at the time, fearing that the Vulcans would be offended. To their credit, they had taken the entire incident in stride and had not let it stop them from adventurous culinary pursuits while on Earth. She had learned that Soran repeatedly brought up the incident to ‘tease’ her in his own restrained way.

“That is true,” Soran conceded. “I suppose it is safe to allow you to order dinner.”

“Lasagna would be acceptable,” Sarek decided. He found Italian food to be quite satisfactory. He especially enjoyed the musical sound of the language when they dined at Michelangelo’s.

“Great!” Amanda enthused. “I’ll put on a pot of tea as well.”

She placed the order, then got up and started the tea. As soon as she returned to her desk Sarek resumed their discussion.

"I would like to learn more about the Christmas holiday, Amanda. It was my understanding that it was an old religious celebration; however, I have seen very little reference to religion in the festivities."

"Well, that's because different people celebrate Christmas in different ways, Sarek, and over the years, I guess, Christmas has lost its religious meaning for some people. For instance, my family is not religious, however we celebrate Christmas as a time for getting together with friends and family and giving to each other."

"Are you referring to 'peace on Earth, and goodwill towards mankind', Amanda?" Soran questioned doubtfully.

"Yes, that's a part of it, Soran."

"Illogical. Why do humans require a holiday to be kind to each other?" Sarek questioned.

"Well, it's not that we require a holiday to do it," Amanda muttered, exasperated. "It's just the tone of the season...you're buying gifts for your loved ones, giving to charities...it puts us in a kinder state of mind, I think."

Sarek considered this then shook his head in disagreement. "I still do not understand. On our way back to the embassy, we witnessed several incidents in front of Macy's department store that seemed less than charitable.”

“Indeed,” Soran chimed in. “There were two women arguing over the rights to an article of clothing that apparently was on sale for ‘one day only.’ The argument eventually escalated into a brawl, and both women were physically removed from the store by security.”

“It would appear that the ‘Silly Season,’ to use your father’s term, does not bring out goodwill in everyone. In fact, my observations suggest that it exacerbates ill will. Why can your people not behave peacefully all year long?" Sarek queried.

"Look, there are always exceptions, but Christmas really does bring humans closer together." Amanda paused, frustrated by her inability to explain the holiday accurately. "Perhaps this isn't something that can be explained with words. Maybe it's something you need to experience firsthand."

"And how do you propose we do that, Amanda?" Sarek asked.

Amanda bit her bottom lip gently as she formed a plan. She smiled at the thought of the two placid Vulcans in the midst of the Grayson family chaos. "By coming home with me and celebrating Christmas with my family."

Sarek and Soran glanced at each other consideringly. “Is this not a family holiday, Amanda?" Sarek asked.

"Well, you two are like my family here at the embassy. Besides, it's also customary to invite friends who have to be away from their families during the holidays."

“Where does your clan gather for this celebration?” Soran inquired.

“Maplewood, Minnesota,” Amanda said with a smile. In her head she could already hear the snow crunching under her boots and she could smell the smoke coming out of the chimney. She had not been home as often as she would have liked during the past few years.

“Minnesota,” Soran repeated, pulling out his data PADD. He looked at Sarek soberly. “The temperature is four degrees Celsius, Sarek.”

“Indeed,” Sarek commented, looking back at Amanda uncertainly.

“Four degrees is warm!” Amanda exclaimed. “That’s not even below freezing. I saw on the weather uplinks that there will be more snow,” she told them, her sapphire eyes shining with excitement.

“Snow?” Sarek and Soran said at the same time. Both Vulcans raised a single eyebrow. Amanda was fairly certain that her negotiations were going to be successful. Of course she had learned from the best… Sarek and Soran themselves.

“Yes, snow. You’ve never seen snow, have you?” Amanda asked casually. Sarek often questioned her about Terran weather phenomena. Sarek’s home on Vulcan was near the Sas-a-shar desert, so he was particularly fascinated with anything involving water. One afternoon while they were working on a speech he was to give before the Federation Council, there had been a torrential downpour. Thunder, lightening…the whole works. Sarek had been mesmerized by the savagery of the storm. He and Amanda stood before his large picture window, neither one speaking. Soran had rushed into the office to alert Sarek of severe weather conditions. Amanda smiled at the memory of Soran dripping water from the downpour all over Sarek’s Persian rug, both Vulcan’s eyes lit up with boyish enthusiasm.

“They had simulated winter precipitation at Macy’s,” Soran informed her.

“Fake snow isn’t anything like real snow, Soran,” Amanda responded.

“I have seen snow on the mountaintops from the diplomatic shuttle,” Sarek said, his voice a bit wistful.

“You can’t experience snow from the seat of a flitter. It’s more than just ‘seeing’ it. Besides, that snow was probably hundreds of miles away,” Amanda told him, her blue eyes fastening on his.

“I would not wish to impose upon your family, Amanda…” Sarek began.

“Trust me. It won’t be an imposition. My parents are used to having a house full of people.”

“Perhaps you should consult with your parents first,” Soran suggested.

“It’s not necessary. But if it will help you two make your decision, I’ll get them on the comm unit. I’ll be right back.” Amanda went to the back of the classroom to her makeshift private office, which was a cubicle of sorts she had fashioned out of whatever stray materials she could find.

Soran brought up more information on the state of Minnesota on his PADD. Sarek brought his head closer to Soran’s to read the text as well. He was distracted by the tinkling of Amanda’s laughter. He did not mean to eavesdrop, but he could not help but hear part of the conversation.

“Very funny, Daddy. No, they do not have antennae. Tell Mom I said hello. Uh huh. I’m fine. Yes. Love you, too. See you soon.” Amanda made her way back to the desk, swaying to another yuletide jingle coming from the radio.

"There, it's all set now. My parents are looking forward to meeting you."

Sarek's lips twitched upward slightly. "We did not accept your invitation, Amanda. We merely suggested that you should have discussed this with your parents first."

Amanda chuckled. "Well, it's too late now. If you don't come they'll be very offended...and believe me, you don't want to get on my mother’s bad side."

“In that case, we accept your generous offer. We would not wish to offend the Grayson clan matriarch.” Sarek’s dark eyes glittered with amusement as he thought of getting on T’Pau’s ‘bad side.’ He assumed Amanda’s mother was just as formidable as the head of his own clan.

“Great! You are going to have a wonderful time. My mother is a fabulous cook. She’ll think it’s her duty to fatten you two up,” Amanda recounted.

The intercom in Amanda’s ‘office’ buzzed and she got up to answer it.

“Speaking of ‘fattening up,’ dinner is here,” Amanda told the two Vulcans.

Over a simple course of salad, lasagna, garlic bread, and tea they continued to discuss their travel plans. Amanda had planned to leave on the morning shuttle the next day, which was Christmas Eve, but it would be impossible at this late date to get reservations for the Vulcans. Soran informed Sarek that the Deltan ambassador had canceled their meeting the following day, so they made arrangements for an Embassy shuttle to take all three of them to Maplewood in the morning. When the trip planning was finished, conversation turned to discussing what would occur over the Christmas holiday and what Amanda's childhood home was like.

Once the food had been polished off Amanda disappeared to the back of the room to dispose of the dishware and returned with her coat and purse in her hands.

"I'm glad you guys are coming. I think you'll find the experience to be...satisfying." She put on her coat and began to collect some items off the desk. "Don't forget to pack warm clothes."

"You are leaving so soon?" Sarek asked, masking the disappointment from his voice.

Amanda looked up from her bag, where she was digging for her gloves. "Yes, I still need to pack, and we leave first thing in the morning."

“But are we not required to bring presents?” Soran brought up.

“Don’t worry. We’ll have plenty of time to do our shopping when we get there, even though tomorrow is Christmas Eve. We’ll get great prices, and it won’t be as… chaotic as here in the city,” Amanda told him.

“Whatever you think is best,” Sarek responded. He did not wish to start off the Christmas experience behind the curve.

“Trust me. And don’t forget hats and gloves,” she reminded them.

“Do not be concerned, Amanda. I have requisitioned arctic weight expedition clothing for Sarek and myself,” Soran said seriously.

“Well, good. Although we’re not going to the North Pole,” Amanda teased. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” she said.

"Of course," Sarek murmured. "Shall I send a car to pick you up in the morning?"

“Please do. I’ll be ready at eight. I promise.”

The three of them went their separate ways to make preparations for the next day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amanda awoke as the shuttle experienced a mild patch of turbulence. With a satisfying yawn and a leisurely stretch she glanced over at her cabin mates to find Sarek watching bemusedly. “Trips always make me sleepy,” she explained sheepishly.

Sarek raised an eyebrow. “Obviously,” he deadpanned.

Amanda straightened in her chair to hide her blush, and then glanced down at the PADD Sarek was studying intently. “Christmas list?”

Sarek looked back up at her in confusion before ascertaining her meaning. “No, Deltan trading agreement.”

“I can’t believe you brought work with you!” Her blue eyes flashed cobalt in indignation.

“Amanda,” Sarek began.

“You aren’t supposed to work over Christmas...this is a time for relaxing and enjoying yourself.”

“Amanda,” Sarek stated more sternly, unaccustomed to being taken to task by anyone since he left his father’s house thirty-six years ago.

But Amanda was on a roll, and didn’t even notice the warning in the Ambassador’s eyes. “I *thought* you wanted to learn more about the Christmas holiday...to experience it for yourself.”

Sarek slowly put the PADD away and after taking a moment to perfect his control turned to look at the human calmly. “I do, Miss Grayson, and if you would take a moment to listen instead of continuing your emotional exhibition, I was going to say that I was merely working as a means of occupying my time on this trip. It seemed my companions proved to be less than stimulating entertainment. My aide spent all his time absorbed in his PADD, and you were asleep before we even reached full altitude.”

“Oh,” Amanda let out a breath, her anger gone as fast as it had come. “Well that’s okay then. Hey...is it snowing already?” She lunged excitedly across the aisle to lean over Sarek and look out his unshuttered window. Sarek, mentally thrown off balance by her sudden change of mood, had briefly considered pointing out that Amanda had a window on her own side of the shuttle, but decided that the warmth of her pressed tightly against his thigh was quite pleasant; and it would be rude to disturb her excitement over the precipitation with his logic. He leaned back to give her more room to look out the window.

Amanda smiled wistfully then looked at Sarek for his reaction to the phenomenon, but his face held none of the pleasure that she had expected. In fact, his eyes held a strangely intense light to them, and suddenly Amanda was aware of just how much she had invaded his personal space. She quickly sat back into the aisle seat next to him that had been previously occupied by Soran earlier in the trip. She thought about apologizing for her unintentionally offensive conduct, but everything she formed in her head sounded too awkward to speak aloud, so she tried changing the subject. “Where are we, exactly?”

“I am uncertain, but as we have been traveling approximately half the estimated time of our trip, I would expect that we are somewhere over the state of Wyoming. I can call the pilot for an exact position, if you’d like.”

“No...I was just curious.” Amanda laid her head back against the seat. “Where’s Soran?”

“He went to speak with the pilot regarding the turbulence we felt a short time ago.”

Amanda chuckled quietly. “He’s such a worry-wart.”

Sarek smiled briefly at her description of his friend. “He prefers to be well-informed in all situations.”

Just then the worrywart himself came back into the passenger section of the shuttle. “Soran, it’s snowing!” Amanda exclaimed.

“I know. The temperature has dropped down to 0 degrees Celsius since we left, and there is currently 7.1 centimeters of accumulation on the ground. In your Maplewood the temperature is a mere -6.11 degrees Celcius, and there is already 10.16 centimeters of snow on the ground with an expected addition of 7.62 centimeters before the night is through.” He paused a moment in the aisle when he realized Amanda had taken his seat, then quietly took the seat across from her when it became apparent she had no intention of vacating.

Soran leaned forward to speak around Amanda to Sarek. “The pilot assured me that the earlier turbulence was a result of an unexpected air pocket, but he has since compensated for the change in climate and does not expect any more occurrences.”

Sarek nodded tolerantly, then for Amanda’s benefit, teased, “How gratifying to know we are not about to plummet to our deaths.”

Soran nodded seriously, then at Amanda’s giggle, realized he was apparently the butt of some joke between his two companions and sat back in his seat and focused all his attention back on his PADD, thereby displaying his displeasure at Sarek’s behavior. Unfortunately, this only caused Amanda to laugh even harder. He gave her what he hoped was a disparaging look, but other than covering her mouth in a vain attempt to hide her mirth; she didn’t appear at all repentant. He soon forgot his indignity, knowing that soon enough one of them would be on the receiving end of his own teasing, and the three passed the rest of the trip in quiet conversation.

A short time later the pilot’s voice came over the intercom announcing their imminent arrival at the Grayson house. Once they had touched down, Amanda pulled on her coat then looked out the window while she waited for the Vulcans to prepare. She was thrilled to see the driveway crowded with groundcars...it looked as though everyone made the trip this year! She turned to see Sarek adjusting his hat over his ears, then they both waited as Soran added layer after layer of winter paraphernalia.

“What are you doing?” Amanda asked shortly.

Soran looked at her impatiently. “I am preparing for the weather outside.”

“We aren’t going to be outside for more than a few minutes,” she pleaded.

“I do not wish to risk frostbite, Amanda.”

“You will suffer no ill effects in the time it will take us to walk from the shuttle to the house,” Sarek interrupted, rather impatient himself.

“I prefer to be prepared for any possibilities,” Soran stated, then continued to take his time meticulously applying his winter gear. Finally, he was prepared and the three trekked to the house.

The noise of music and human laughter could be heard as soon as they exited the shuttle. When they reached the door Amanda immediately walked inside without knocking, which surprised Sarek at first, since it was not something that would occur on Vulcan; but then he assumed it was a logical action to take as it was doubtful anyone would hear their knock anyway.

Their arrival did not go unnoticed, however, for as soon as they entered the foyer there were shouts of greetings from another room, and soon Amanda was engulfed in a crowd of Terrans embracing her and talking excitedly. Amanda loudly introduced the clan to her guests – loudly, because it was the only way to be heard – then suddenly the humans turned to converge on the two Vulcans.

Unconsciously, Sarek must have begun to back away, because suddenly he felt the wall pressed hard against his back, but still they came sticking out their hands to shake, welcoming him, and wishing him a happy holiday. Sarek bolstered his controls, trying to shield himself against the tidal wave of raw emotions that seemed to be bouncing around the room; and blindly stuck out his hand, not in any desire to shake with people, but more as a desire to keep the crowd at arm’s length. He looked for Soran amongst the crowd, but unlike the ambassador, his friend seemed to be quite comfortable with all the action and chaos around him as he watched Soran calmly nod and speak to each individual as they yelled out a greeting to him. ‘Must come from being raised in a large family,’ thought Sarek. He himself only had one brother, and his house was always peaceful and calm. Soran, however, had several brothers and sisters, and always had an excess of cousins visiting for one reason or another. Sarek recalled feeling rather intimidated at Soran’s house too, but a house full of Vulcans, even chaotic Vulcans, was nothing compared to this.

Suddenly, and much to Sarek’s relief, a presence began making its way through the crowd yelling for everyone to go back to their activities and leave the newcomers alone to get settled. At first Sarek couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from, as the woman was hidden in the midst of the much taller men; but as the crowd thinned he saw a petite, middle aged woman working her way towards him, shooing children and slapping some of the others with a towel when they didn’t move as fast as she apparently wished them to.

Once the degree of pandemonium had diminished to a manageable level she approached Sarek to introduce herself. “Heathens, all of them!” her smile contradicted the severity of her words. “You poor Vulcans have no idea what you're getting yourselves into. I'm Amanda's mother."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Grayson,” Sarek said, once again taking control as he felt more comfortable with the one-on-one setting. “I am Sarek, and this is Soran."

"Sarek, and Soran, welcome to my chaos. I mean my ‘home.’ And call me Nell...I insist.”

“We are honored,” Sarek said formally with a bow. Soran also dipped his head in acknowledgment.

“Well, you might not be so honored after a few hours with these wild grandchildren,” Nell told them. “Now, where’s that daughter of mine? You did remember to pack her, didn’t you?” she teased.

Soran’s forehead knotted in confusion. "We did not pack her, Mrs. Grayson. Our luggage could not accommodate something of that size,” he told her literally.

"They didn't pack me because Soran's outerwear took up two suitcases,” Amanda responded drolly from over her mother’s shoulder.

“You exaggerate, Amanda. Besides, he is wearing most of it on his person,” Sarek ribbed his aide.

Soran stiffened visibly at the joke. "Indeed, and I was quite comfortable on the walk over making my choice of clothing most logical.”

"Of course, k'war'ma'khon. I would never question your logic,” Sarek told his brother-by-choice, thinking that he and Amanda had perhaps teased him too much about the amount of winter clothing he had insisted was essential for the trip.

"Well, it seems logical to me," Nell told Soran.

"Thank you, Mrs. Grayson," Soran replied, then gave a brief nod to Sarek in acknowledgement of his apology.

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” Amanda said, hugging her mother from behind.

“Merry Christmas, Sweetie. I know your father’s around here somewhere. Probably hiding in the barn or his cubbyhole in the basement.” She looked at the two Vulcans. “Well, goodness, here let me get your coats.”

Sarek handed over his coat, and Soran, somewhat reluctantly, began his de-layering process. After several minutes, and several trips to the closet for Nell to put it all away, the Vulcans were left in only their casual tunics and pants.

"Well, look at you! I wouldn't have guessed you were such a skinny thing by the way you looked in all those clothes," Nell teased Soran a little herself. "Come into the kitchen and warm up with some hot cider. It's much quieter in here. Everyone knows if they enter my domain I'll put them to work!"

The trio began to follow when the front door opened again admitting an older Terran male carrying everyone's luggage. Sarek and Soran quickly moved to relieve him of his burden, looking questioningly out the door for their shuttle pilot, who was supposed to have delivered the baggage himself.

"What the hell is in these bags?" the man muttered as he released the luggage and stretched his back.

"Forgive us, sir. If we had known our pilot had left these outside, we would have retrieved them ourselves." Sarek gave Soran a puzzled look, wondering at the pilot's unusually lax behavior.

"Nah, I saw him coming across with the bags, but I was headed this way anyway so I took them for him. I just didn't expect them to be this heavy."

"Well, they weren't sure what they should bring... so they brought it all including the kitchen sink," Amanda told him.

"It's about time you made it back home, young lady!" the elder man growled, then grabbed Amanda up in a big bear hug.

Sarek looked from the baggage to his assistant. "You packed a sink?"

Soran looked at Sarek confused. "No, it was not suggested in the current LL Bean catalog, but I shall do so next time."

Amanda interrupted their conference. "Guys, this is my father, Alfred Grayson. Dad, this is Ambassador Sarek and his Chief Advisor, Soran."

“Mr. Grayson,” Sarek greeted him.

“Sir,” Soran added.

“Nice to meet you,” Al Grayson returned. He held up his hand in a Vulcan ta’al. “Live long, and prosper.”

“Peace and long life,” Sarek said, raising his own hand in the Vulcan salute. Soran did likewise.

“How did you know how to do that, Dad?” Amanda asked with amazement.

“What? Do you think I was born yesterday? Besides, I’ve been practicing,” he told his daughter, deliberately moving his fingers apart in different combinations. "Welcome to Minnesota, gentlemen. Make yourselves at home here."

"Thank you, Mr. Grayson. We are honored." The Vulcans once again bowed respectfully to their host.

"Aunt Amanda, Grandma wants your help in the kitchen," a young voice spoke from behind Sarek getting the attention of all the adults. She smiled shyly as her wide eyes took in the appearance of the aliens. "Hi," she said breathlessly.

"How do you do, young one?" Sarek greeted her, but all he got in response was a tittering of shy giggles.

Soran, who had many nieces and nephews, took over. "How old are you, little one?"

"I'm four," she answered quietly, then said in a rush aimed directly at Sarek, "but I'll be five next month!"

Sarek nodded politely, unsure why that was a significant revelation.

“That old!” Soran exclaimed, kneeling down to her level. “You must already know Zinterov’s Theorem,” he said knowingly.

“Nuh uh,” the child shook her head in the negative. “Not yet. That’s in second grade.”

“Ah, I see,” Soran replied. “Second grade.”

She shook her head sagely. “Yep.”

Sarek was fascinated by Soran’s rapport. His chief advisor’s interpersonal skills in large groups never ceased to astound him. He had seen Soran put even the most difficult species at ease, and Terran children certainly qualified as ‘difficult.’

“I am called Soran. And that is Sarek. What is your name?” Soran coaxed.

“Paula,” her voice barely a whisper.

“Paula. Even your name means ‘little one,’” Soran told her, gratified to see her blush with delight.

She walked directly up to where Soran was kneeling and looked from one of his ears to the other. “Your ears go up at the end,” she informed him.

“Yes, they do,” Soran responded matter-of-factly.

“So do his,” she said, scrutinizing Sarek, then quickly smiling and ducking her head from him.

“That is correct,” Soran agreed.

“I like them,” she said after careful consideration.

“Thank you. So do we,” Soran responded.

“Well, now that we know that, how about I show you men where you’ll be sleeping,” Al broke in.

“I’ll do it, Grandpa! Grandma told me to put them in my room,” Paula said proudly.

“She means the room she usually uses when she’s staying here,” Amanda said with a laugh. “She’s going to camp out with me,” Amanda clarified.

“Will you do my makeup, Aunt Amanda?” Paula asked.

“Makeup? You’re only four!” Al Grayson exclaimed.

“We’ll see,” Amanda told her with a wink. “Go on and show them to their room and then come right back down here,” she said sternly.

Paula sidled around Soran and took Sarek by the hand. “Come on,” she encouraged. Sarek arched an eyebrow and then accompanied her to the staircase.

Al and Soran looked at the luggage, then at Sarek’s back. Soran hefted their bags and Al picked up Amanda’s suitcase. The Terran and the Vulcan exchanged a brief glance.

“This is what always happens,” Soran provided.

“Huh,” Al said noncommittally, struggling with his daughter’s large bag. “What on Earth did that girl pack in here, an elephant?”

“I do not believe so,” Soran supplied. “However, I cannot be certain.” He arched an eyebrow of his own as Al laughed out loud.

“Here.” Paula’s tiny hand pushed open the first door to the right on the upper level. She pulled excitedly on Sarek’s hand. “Well?” she inquired.

Sarek took in the room. There was a desk under the window, and some sort of stuffed, unstructured apparatus on the floor. Sarek looked at the beds. One was up above the other, along one wall.

“Bunk beds!” Paula squealed, jumping up onto the lower bunk.

“Indeed,” Sarek replied.

The small tornado continued to bounce on the lower bed. “I sleep in this one,” she informed him. “But the bedspread is pink so you might want the other one,” she contemplated.

“I do not understand,” Sarek said simply.

“Pink is a ‘girly’ color,” Paula clued him in.

“That is not logical,” Sarek commented.

Paula made a gesture that Sarek had often seen Amanda make. She turned her palms up and shrugged her shoulders. “I’m just saying,” Paula finished.

Soran and Al entered the room. Sarek took his valise from Soran and set it primly on the upper bunk that had starships and planets and what appeared to be some sort of alien being with tentacles on the bedspread.

“I used to have a room similar to this,” Soran intimated, his eyes excited. He noted Sarek’s placement of his suitcase. “Although I generally had the upper sleeping area,” Soran said pointedly.

“Not this time,” Sarek said sedately.

“Yeah, not this time,” Paula sing-songed.

“Very well,” Soran responded with a slight lift of his slanted eyebrow. He set his own suitcase on top of the pink bedspread.

Paula shot off of the bed and landed on the large stuffed apparatus on the floor. “This is a chair,” she told them. “You can sit here and read or play computer games.”

“Excellent.” Soran tentatively touched the chair. The soft material pushed in at his touch.

“Fascinating,” Sarek noted, leaning over to touch the chair himself.

“If you guys think that is entertaining, just wait ‘till you meet Amanda’s Uncle Bob,” Al said from the doorway.

“We would be pleased to meet Amanda’s uncle,” Sarek said politely.

Al chuckled. “Oh, no, you won’t be,” he said. “The bathroom is right down the hall if you want to get cleaned up,” Al suggested, pointing to his left. “Come on, Little Bit. Let’s go downstairs and let them unpack in peace,” Al commanded his granddaughter.

“You hurry up,” Paula admonished the Vulcans as her grandfather swept her up in his arms, placed her upon his shoulders, and left the room.

Soran and Sarek looked at the chair again, then back at each other. Sarek plunked down in it. He shifted his weight slightly and a look of contentment crossed his face.

“Comfortable?” Soran inquired.

“Very,” Sarek replied. “I have never seen a chair of this nature.” Sarek’s eyes closed briefly. He might want to purchase one for his office at the embassy.

“That much is obvious,” Soran stated. “I will return in just a moment, Sarek. I am going to investigate the bathroom facilities.”

When Soran returned, Sarek moved to get up out of the chair. It was more difficult than it appeared when the child had simply bounded out of it.

Soran cleared his throat, and extended a hand to his superior. “Allow me to assist you, S’haile.”

Sarek gave him a dark look, but accepted the proffered hand. Extricating himself from the confines of the soft material, he stood up.

“It is fortuitous that I returned when I did,” Soran said. “Otherwise it might have swallowed you like a Denubian sand worm.”

“Indeed,” Sarek said, looking back at the chair. He would have to master it at a later time.

“The bathroom is the third door on the left,” Soran told him helpfully.

“Very well,” Sarek returned. “I will meet you downstairs.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Sarek rejoined the others Soran was seated in the living room deep in conversation with Amanda's father, a young child, whom Sarek had not yet been introduced to, perched on the Vulcan’s lap. The child was so young that Sarek could not determine the gender, but it seemed quite content in Soran’s care.

A man who appeared to be close to Amanda’s age slept in a recliner chair in front of the vid unit, a remote device clutched possessively in his hand. A light whistling noise came from his nose and mouth.

Sarek took a seat beside his aide on the small couch and was immediately handed a mug of hot cider that Al took from a tray beside him. Before he had even finished his first sip his arm was hit by the small form of Paula smashing herself into the small space left between him and the end of the couch. Sarek moved over as much as he could but the quarters were extremely tight. Paula apparently didn't mind however, because every time he glanced in her direction she had a smile plastered on her face and was actively listening to the conversation around her. She snuggled against his side and Sarek resigned himself to the contact.

Al and Soran were in the midst of discussing the sport of football, which was currently playing on the holovid unit. Sarek remained quiet as he was not a fan of this particular human sport.

Suddenly another man, approximately Al's age, lumbered into the living room unsteadily and sat down heavily in the chair facing Sarek sloshing his drink during his ungraceful descent. After muttering a few obscene words he looked up at Sarek and pointed a finger accusingly. "Do you know who you look like?”

"No, I do not,” Sarek replied. He did not know who he looked like other than himself. He had been told that he and his younger brother bore a strong familial resemblance to one another. He did not think that this Terran had ever met Silek, however.

"You look just like that dumb ass who was on the vid the other morning talking to the Federation assembly."

"Bob!" Al warned sternly.

"We watched him just yesterday, remember Al?"

Sarek’s lips tightened and he looked at Soran, whose eyes had grown rather large at the other man's aggressiveness.

"Yes, that was me," Sarek said calmly.

"No shit!" the man muttered, taking another moment for a long pull on his drink.

"This is Amanda's Uncle Bob, Sarek. You'll have to excuse his behavior...he's been partaking of the ‘special’ eggnog a little too much today." Al made an apologetic gesture, and tipped his hand up as if drinking out of a cup.

Sarek nodded, understanding his meaning, and hoped Amanda's intoxicated uncle would find something else to occupy his time soon...or perhaps slip into unconsciousness as he sat in the chair.

“That was quite a speech you gave. You look bigger in them fancy robes, though," the man continued.

“Indeed,” Sarek said neutrally. He did not know this man’s position on the Council debates yet.

The man leaned closer to Sarek and said conspiratorially, “Well, since you asked, here’s my take on it…”

“He didn’t ask,” Al pointed out, not even bothering to hide his irritation.

“Sure he did! That’s what Vulcans mean when they say ‘indeed,’” the man said with the certainty of ethanol bolstering him.

Sarek looked away briefly to compose himself. In the corner of the room a small boy tapped away at the keyboard of a portable computer, oblivious to the adults around him. Sarek had a sudden stab of homesickness. The boy reminded him of his nephew Selek, whom he had not seen in over a year. Sarek had given Selek his first computer instruction, and this boy’s demeanor mirrored that of his Vulcan counterpart.

"First of all," Bob continued, "you gotta stop letting those little blue bastards push you around! Boy, I tell ya, yesterday I'd like to beat that Andorian with the long hair right over the head with one of his own antennas."

“Ah geez,” Al said under his breath. “Here we go.”

Sarek glanced at Soran speculatively, and saw a glimmer of amusement in his advisor's eyes that mirrored his own. "Soran and I did consider a more... aggressive strategy.”

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Uncle Bob said to no one in particular. “Aggressive. That’s the word.”

The man sat up suddenly and gesticulated wildly with his glass. "And that porker, Gav. I know all about IDIC, but this is going just a little too far. I say bring him by and we'll fry his ass up for breakfast!”

“Vulcans are vegetarians,” Soran added tactfully to the discussion. His voice was barely a whisper. The baby had fallen asleep tucked into the crook of his arm.

“Bob! Knock it off! They came here for the holiday, not to hear your political views!" Al’s voice thundered as he stood up from his chair.

The infant stirred in Soran’s arms, clutching the Vulcan’s tunic with a tiny fist.

“They’ll kill us if we wake up the baby,” Al whispered, looking toward the kitchen with fear in his eyes.

“Well, you’re the one yelling,” Bob stated emphatically.

“Well, if you weren’t such a horse’s ass I wouldn’t have to yell,” Al muttered between clenched teeth.

“Who you calling a horse’s ass?” Bob declared in a loud whisper.

“I’m calling *you*…” Al began.

“Gentlemen,” Soran said quietly, but firmly.

Both Terrans and the Vulcan ambassador looked at Soran. He was gazing down at the baby who shuddered once then resumed breathing with the regular rhythm of sleep.

“Whew,” Al said with relief. “That was close. Come on, Bob, let’s go in the den and fix you another drink.” Al steered Bob out of the living room, rolling his eyes at the two Vulcans.

Sarek felt the tension leave his muscles. The unchecked Terran emotions were draining him mentally. He looked over at Soran, who was the picture of calmness. Very few things disturbed Soran’s placid demeanor, which was why he was such an effective assistant to Sarek, who knew that his own temperament was somewhat volatile for a Vulcan. He glanced down at Paula, who was still sitting beside him. Feeling his eyes on her, she gazed up at him and smiled. He raised an eyebrow at her and she smiled even broader, then wrapped a small arm around his midsection. Oddly enough, Sarek felt his mind growing calmer as she settled against him.

“You’re more handsomer than Jason Adams,” Paula’s tiny voice reached his ears.

“Am I?” Sarek rejoined.

“Uh huh. He’s cuter than Danny Robinson, and I have his audio-disc and a holo-poster,” Paula said breathlessly.

“I see,” Sarek kept the conversation going. He had no idea who either of these males were.

“Danny Robinson is one of my big brother Pat’s friends. He comes over to our house sometimes,” she elaborated.

“Ah,” Sarek replied.

“He likes me,” Paula continued.

“He does not!” A voice came from the corner of the room. Sarek looked over, but the boy’s eyes were still on the computer screen.

“He does too!” Paula insisted.

“Does not!” the boy shot back.

“Does too,” Paula said as her eyes started to tear up.

Sarek did not know how to handle this situation.

Paula did, apparently. She stood up on the couch. “Mom! Pat’s being mean to me!” she yelled to the kitchen at the top of her lungs.

“I am not!” Pat yelled back at an even louder decibel level.

“Don’t make me come in there!” a female voice drifted from the kitchen.

“Pat’s gonna get in trouble,” Paula told Sarek smugly, settling back against his side, evidently quite pleased with herself.

“You’re the one who’s gonna get in trouble,” Pat returned.

“Children, please calm yourselves,” Sarek said sternly. Both children looked at him with surprise, then fell silent.

Soran shifted the sleeping bundle in his arms, then looked at Sarek with approval. Sarek arched an eyebrow at him, then felt himself relaxing again. Perhaps children were not so difficult to handle after all. Terrans were just overly permissive with them. They simply required more structure in their lives. Sarek stretched out his long legs and focused on the football game on the vid unit. The local franchise had just turned over the ball to the other team.

“HOLY CRAP!!!” the boy suddenly screamed from his corner of the room. Sarek, Soran, and Paula all swiveled their heads in his direction.

“Uh oh… he said a bad word!” Paula said with awe, her hand going to her mouth melodramatically.

"Patrick Michael Grayson, Junior! What did I just hear you say? I swear I'm gonna wash that mouth out with soap!" the angry voice became increasingly louder as a woman with short dark hair came into the living room brandishing a large metal cooking spoon like it was a battle lirpa.

"But Mom, that's what you say when you get mad at the computer," Pat rationalized, frowning at the whirring sound coming from his portable device.

To Sarek’s sensitive ears, it sounded as if the sion capacitor may have gone out on the machine. Before he could mention it, a male voice spoke up.

"Ha! He's got you there, eh, Brianna?" the dark haired man who had been sleeping in the recliner sat up and adjusted his spectacles that were askew from his nap.

“It moves, it speaks,” Brianna said sarcastically. "That's enough out of you, Patrick Senior. Now that you’ve come out of your coma, you can help me in the kitchen. You can finish mashing those apples that you started two hours ago before you came out here to check the football score."

He smoothed a hand over his sleep-matted hair, and checked the football score on the screen. “Holy crap! What happened? The Vikings were ahead…”

“That was hours ago,” Brianna told him patiently. “And don’t say ‘holy crap’ in front of the children!”

“See, I told ya, Mom,” Patrick Junior offered from his corner. “That’s where I heard it.”

“The Packers of Green Bay, Wisconsin, scored two touchdowns and a field goal in the past thirty five point six minutes,” Soran updated the man with the glasses.

“Hey,” the man said with puzzlement as he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, “where’d the Vulcans come from?”

“We are from Vulcan,” Sarek elucidated.

“Oh, well, yeah, I figured,” the man replied as he began cleaning his eyeglasses with his shirttail.

“They came with me,” Amanda’s voice sounded from the doorway. “But of course you were too busy snoring away to notice that your baby sister was here.”

“It’s about time you made it home! Always squirreled away in some archive researching your dissertation. And I can’t help it if I’m sleepy during the day… the baby kept me up half the night,” the man defended himself.

“Kept you up half the night? I’m the one who got up and fed her and got her back to sleep. You never even budged,” Brianna inserted.

“Sarek, Soran, this is my brother Patrick,” Amanda told the two Vulcans.

“Nice to meet you,” Patrick greeted them. “This is my wife Brianna with the giant spoon, and I see you’ve met my daughters Emily and Paula, and my son, Pat Jr.”

Paula gave an exaggerated nod of her small head and patted Sarek’s belly possessively.

“We’re glad you made it,” Brianna told them, smiling as her husband gave his little sister a hug. She turned her attention to the boy in the corner who was now frantically tapping at his computer and whimpering in distress. "Now what's the problem?"

"My hard drives...they're gone! All three of them!" His face turned bright red, and Sarek suspected he was barely controlling the urge to cry. "Mom, we have to go to the store right now and get new ones."

"I am not about to go shopping for computer parts on Christmas Eve! You'll just have to wait until the holidays are over."

“But Mom! I can’t wait that long!”

“Yes you can, and you’re going to, mister,” his mother asserted.

"Maybe you can ask Santa to bring you new ones for Christmas," Paula piped up from her position on the couch.

Pat rolled his eyes at his sister's naivety. "You are such a baby! There's no such thing as Santa Claus!" His eyes narrowed menacingly.

"Pat..." his mother warned.

"There is so!" Paula wailed as she jumped up from the couch, her hands fisted at her sides, tears welling up in her eyes.

The din finally awakened the baby, who screamed its displeasure at being disturbed. Brianna took the baby from Soran with a grateful smile then wordlessly deposited the fussy child in its father’s arms.

“Patrick Michael, tell your sister there's a Santa Claus, right now,” Patrick Senior scolded his son sharply.

The boy looked back at his sister begrudgingly. "Fine, there's a Santa Claus; but it's too late for me to ask for new hard drives now. Besides, Santa is bringing me a new vid disc player this year, right Mom?" he asked, looking hopefully at Brianna.

"I wouldn't count on it, Mister. Besides, I told you how expensive those things are...and you don't have to have every new toy that comes on the market, you know!"

"Mooooom, it's not a toy; and everyone has them now!" He unconsciously reached out to grip his mother's apron in a begging gesture. "Besides, I already bought a copy of ‘Star Escape’ on disc...it's the director's cut!"

"Well, that’s your problem, not mine. You'll just have to wait and see," she told him curtly, then jerked her apron out of his hands as she returned to the kitchen.

Sarek sighed aloud, catching Soran's startled glance at his lapse. They'd only been there a few hours, and yet Sarek was already mentally exhausted. Perhaps, he thought, he should excuse himself for some meditation before dinner.

Amanda jingled keys to a groundcar. "I'm running into town for some supplies. Do you guys want to do a little shopping?"

Yes!" Sarek answered quickly, grateful to be able to escape even for a short time. He stood up, prepared to leave right that minute if need be.

"Can I go too, Aunt Amanda?" Paula's little voice peeped up from between them.

Amanda looked down into Paula's bright blue eyes, then up into the darker brown eyes of Sarek, in which she sensed a weariness that she hadn't ever seen in him before. "Not this time, Peanut. But after I get back I promise we can go outside and build a snowman together, how's that?"

“Okay," the little girl agreed, her disappointment obvious in her low tone and drooped head.

"That's my girl," Amanda encouraged and gave her a gentle pat on the head then accepted her coat from Sarek, who had already retrieved their outdoor gear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They placed the last of the groceries into the back of the Grayson's groundcar then Amanda turned to the men, zipping her coat a little higher against the chill. "I usually walk down Main Street when I shop here, but if it's too cold we can drive from store to store."

Soran, who was once again packed in his winter layers, raised his eyebrow superiorly. "I am quite comfortable in these conditions, Amanda." He looked pointedly at Sarek, silently challenging him to say differently.

Sarek, who actually was rather chilled in the early evening breeze, was also never one to back down from a challenge. "I think the weather is acceptable for walking, Amanda." He stuffed his gloved hands into his coat pockets to hide any shivering that might slip past his controls.

"Great!" Amanda exclaimed brightly, gesturing for the Vulcans to precede her down the sidewalks. A few moments later she caught up to Sarek, and slipped her arm through his, pulling herself tightly against his side.

Sarek looked down at her, startled, and wondered what Soran, who was now trailing behind the couple, thought of this sudden affection Amanda was displaying. He felt Amanda slip something into his pocket, but was unable to make out what it was. Then she held another item out for him to take.

"Put this in your other pocket," she whispered to prevent Soran from overhearing. "They're heat packs. I already activated them, just keep them in your pockets and they'll keep your hands warm."

Sarek took the packs gratefully, already relishing the warmth as feeling returned to his fingers. Amanda straightened, but when she would have pulled her arm from his, Sarek tightened his hold, preventing her escape. “It’s warmer with you closer to me, Amanda,” he whispered. Amanda looked down at their linked arms, then at Sarek’s face, smiling at his look of contentment and patting his arm affectionately with her other hand. The three continued through town pausing to look at each window display, and going in when something they saw intrigued them. When they came upon an elaborate Christmas display in one window, Soran asked Amanda to explain the purpose of Santa Claus.

Amanda studied the jolly red man in the window as she considered his question. “Hmm...the purpose of Santa Claus...I’m not really sure there’s a purpose to him. I’m sure you’ve heard the story...he lives in the North Pole, he and his elves make toys for all the girls and boys in the world, then on Christmas Eve he flies around the world with his sleigh and reindeer delivering the toys to the children who have been good.”

“And a piece of fossilized carbon for those who have been ‘naughty’, I believe,” Soran offered.

Amanda laughed. “Right, that’s how the story goes, anyway. I suppose the purpose of Santa might be to encourage children to behave, but as you saw at the house, it isn’t particularly effective.”

“Young Patrick already knows the idea of Santa Claus is only a myth,” Sarek observed.

“Yes, I know. But this is the first year he’s been aware of that. It’s fun to see the children’s eyes light up when they get to meet ‘Santa’ at the malls, and when their gifts ‘magically’ appear under the tree over night. It’s all in fun.”

“It’s all in ‘fun’...and yet human parents seem to go to great lengths to keep their children under this particular illusion. Illogical.”

Amanda turned so she stood in front of Sarek and unconsciously placed a bare hand gently against Sarek’s cheek. “I know, Sarek, but don’t deny us our small pleasures. There’s no harm in a little illusion now and then.” She turned around and walked down to the next shop, her attention on the goodies displayed within.

Soran watched as Sarek slowly lifted his hand to touch the spot his cheek, as though feeling for a mark left by her touch. While Sarek joined her at the window Soran took a moment to observe his friends more closely. He had known for quite some time that Sarek had a special...regard...for the teacher, but perhaps the ambassador hadn’t been as foolish as he had thought in placing his interest in this Terran female. Lately her behavior towards Sarek certainly wasn’t as platonic as it was towards him. Soran unconsciously raised an eyebrow as he thought about how interesting it would be to see the outcome of this particular conundrum. If nothing else, it should prove… entertaining.

‘Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!’ Amanda berated herself as she stared at the window before her. ‘What was I thinking just reaching out and stroking him...I mean touching him like that?’ She stole a quick glance at Sarek’s stunned look, his hand against the same cheek she had touched. ‘Oh god...I wonder what he’s thinking. Probably thinks I was coming onto him, and I *wasn’t*! Well, maybe I was a little, but what was that thing about keeping my arm? He was cold, idiot, that’s what that was. He even said so.’

“That is a superior looking garment, is it not?”

“What?” Amanda startled, not having heard Sarek and Soran approach her.

“The blue garment in the window. I thought that was what you were looking at.” The same blue as your eyes, Sarek thought to himself.

Amanda finally noticed what was in the window she had been standing at for at least five minutes. She was in front of Shellman’s, and in the window, as it had been for the past three years, was the lovely indigo Deltan silk shawl that she, and just about every other woman in Maplewood, had coveted since Mr. Shellman put it in his window. It was very beautiful, but also very, very expensive!

“Oh...yes, it’s marvelous. Mr. Shellman says he got it off of a Deltan trader when he went to California a few years ago to visit his daughter. The gold trim is hand sewn, and it comes from those...oh, I forget the names, but those Deltan silk worms that are supposed to be magical. Supposedly, when you wear the shawl you become irresistible to the opposite sex.” She smiled at Sarek and Soran, who nodded knowingly. It seemed most of the products that Deltans traded were supposed to have some sort of sexual potency to them.

The wistfulness on Amanda’s face was obvious to both the Vulcans. “If you like it so much, why has it sat in this store for so long, Amanda?”

“Oh, well, look at the price tag! Mr. Shellman is a wonderful man, but he definitely likes to wring as much from his customers as he can. No one can afford such a price for something like a shawl...not that there’s a whole lot of places to wear something like that around here.” She took one last longing look at the window then moved on to the next store.

Sarek and Soran took another moment to study the garment. Deltan fabrics were in high demand throughout the Federation, no doubt for the lore as much as for the material, and they were sure this would be one of the topics that would be on the negotiating table at the upcoming trade negotiations. Soran looked at the item critically. “It’s not very practical for the type of climate here in Minnesota.”

“No,” Sarek murmured, staring at the shawl. “But it would be perfect for the chill on Vulcan nights.”

Soran looked at Sarek sharply, wondering if perhaps the thick muffs and hat had affected his hearing.

Sarek looked at Soran, the flush that tinged the tips of his ears fortunately were hidden under his own hat, and cleared his throat as he reiterated, “It would be adequate cover during the summer months, especially in San Francisco.”

He reached into his coat and removed his credit chip that he handed wordlessly to Soran. “Ensure that it is appropriately gift wrapped,” he instructed then moved on to keep Amanda occupied while his aide purchased the gift.

About an hour and several stops later they were finally headed back to the groundcar when Amanda stopped short in front of a florist’s shop. Sarek and Soran, already piled down with bags, watched her wordlessly as they adjusted their loads. “Know what?” Amanda said contemplatively, “I don’t think my mother has a centerpiece yet.”

“And I suppose you intend to purchase one,” Soran said forlornly. He had had quite enough of this particular excursion, and vowed never to accompany Amanda shopping again, under any circumstances.

“I think we should,” Amanda said patiently. “After all, we’re already here.”

“Perhaps you should allow us to purchase the centerpiece, Amanda,” Sarek interjected. “We really have contributed very little to the festivities, and I believe it would be considered rude to not show our appreciation in some way, would it not?”

Amanda was touched by Sarek’s thoughtfulness. “Well, it’s not expected, Sarek. You are our guests, but I think that’s a very nice idea. Come on; let’s see what they have left.”

She handed her packages to Sarek so she could get the door open, and in turn Sarek turned around and pushed all of his bags into Soran’s already loaded arms. He followed Amanda into the store and neither noticed when Soran finally succumbed to the bulk and collapsed onto the sidewalk beneath a mountain of bags and boxes.

As they walked back to the groundcar, they passed a window full of portable computers and various electronic devices with red bows on them for the holiday season. Sarek stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and went back to the window.

“See something you want Santa to bring you?” Amanda teased him. Sarek and Soran were both technology buffs. She knew that Sarek taught computer courses at the Vulcan Science Academy when he was home.

Sarek looked at her reflection beside his own in the window.

“Actually, I see something that ‘Santa’ might bring for someone else,” Sarek mused. He handed the centerpiece to Amanda and walked purposefully into the retail establishment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The brief excursion had recharged Sarek’s mental energy. After the shuttle flight and being indoors surrounded by Terrans, the walk down Main Street had done wonders at keeping his illogical claustrophobia at bay. When they reentered the house he found, to his dismay, that it held even more Humans than it did when they first arrived.

Noting the fleeting expression that crossed the Vulcan’s aquiline features, Amanda leaned closer and whispered “Don’t worry, those are some neighbors who just stopped by. They’ll be gone before dinner. And the kids will go to bed early, I promise.”

“I am not concerned, Amanda,” Sarek responded, feeling relief flood through him at her words.

“Well, I am. I’m not used to this uproar anymore. These kids are wearing me out. I can’t wait to sit down and have a minute of peace and quiet,” Amanda confided.

Soran brought in the last bag and joined them in the foyer to remove his pile of outergarments.

“You guys take the groceries in the kitchen, I’ll sneak upstairs with the centerpiece and other presents,” Amanda said quietly.

“Very well,” Sarek agreed.

He and Soran carried the foodstuff to the kitchen, where it was, to their surprise, quiet, except for Nell humming along with a song on the disc player.

“Survived your shopping trip, I see,” she observed from her position at a large counter in the middle of the kitchen. She consulted a large PADD that was on the counter in front of her.

“Yes, we did,” Sarek replied, juggling two bags in his arms.

“Just put those over there and we’ll sort it all out in a minute,” Nell gestured toward a wooden table that had been cleared off. Sarek and Soran deposited their burden on the table.

Soran craned his neck to see the screen of her PADD. She had a recipe for something called ‘pecan pie’ on one side of the screen, and a ‘to do’ list on the other side of the screen. “Allow me to assist you, Mrs. Grayson. You have many tasks to accomplish,” Soran offered.

“You know how to make pies?” Nell asked with amusement.

“I have limited culinary experience,” Soran answered truthfully. “However, I believe that I can follow directions adequately.”

Sarek lifted his right eyebrow. Soran rarely followed his directions, but he did not point that out to his assistant, who seemed eager to try his hand in the kitchen.

“Well, I’m pretty good at giving orders, so this should work out okay,” Nell said with a smile. “Here, put this on so you don’t mess up your tunic.” She came around the island and slipped a cloth strap over Soran’s head.

“Now turn around,” she ordered. When Soran complied, she wrapped the apron strings around his waist several times and brought them together behind his back and tied them. “There, how’s that? Not too tight?” she inquired.

Soran rolled up the sleeves of his tunic and looked down at his apron. “It is adequate,” he responded.

Both of Sarek’s eyebrows went up into his bangs when Soran turned back around. How illogical! He did not understand why anyone should wish to ‘Kiss the Cook.’

“Sarek, it would be a big help if you could take stuff out of those bags and put it in the cooling unit,” Nell delegated. “Okay, Soran, I need you to stir what’s in that saucepan continuously. The timer will go off when it’s time for us to take it off the stove,” she said, handing Soran a long wooden spoon.

Sarek had just finished putting away the perishable items when a strident beeping emitted from the cooling unit door.

“There’s the timer. Push that red button on the right,” Nell called to him.

Sarek did so and the beeping ceased. He found that he was rather enjoying himself now that there were some mindless tasks for him to perform.

“What else do you require me to do?” Sarek asked Amanda’s mother, who, along with Soran, was hovering over the saucepan checking the quality of the contents.

“Let’s see. Oh, I know. Go find Amanda and tell her that we need to put the leaves in the dining room table,” Nell indicated, bringing the wooden spoon to her mouth to taste the viscous substance. She nodded with approval. “Perfect,” she told Soran. “I’m going to have to keep you here in the kitchen, I’m afraid. I need a good assistant.”

“I come to serve,” Soran told her solemnly.

“We’re going to get along just fine,” Nell confided.

Sarek left the kitchen to complete his next assignment, as Soran and Nell Grayson spooned the matter in the saucepan into a round dish with dough in the bottom. He had no idea why they would be putting ‘leaves’ onto a table. Perhaps it was decorative, like the centerpiece they had purchased earlier. As he went down the hallway he heard the two ‘chefs’ discussing the optimal placement of pecans in the sticky pie substrate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay, now push on your end,” Amanda instructed.

Sarek pushed against the edge of the table. The two ends began to merge back together, the ‘leaves’ in the center extending the length of the table by approximately two feet. “Fascinating,” he said aloud. Amanda had not been able to explain to him why the devices were called ‘leaves.’

“You are easily entertained,” Amanda teased. “Now there will be room for all of the adults at least. We’ll set up another table for the kids.”

“Logical,” Sarek commented.

“Thank you,” Amanda replied. “Put this tablecloth on while I go upstairs and sneak back down with the centerpiece. Mom will love the surprise.”

“I will do so,” Sarek said, unfolding the lace material and fitting it to the long table.

“My mother said to come give Amanda a hand,” a young female voice said from the doorway.

“She went upstairs to obtain a… surprise,” Sarek said vaguely, turning his head to greet the newcomer.

“Wow. I thought Pat was kidding about your ears,” a young girl told him.

Sarek lifted an eyebrow at her. She blushed, then said hurriedly, “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I mean, I’ve never seen a Vulcan before,” she explained.

“Indeed. I am Sarek,” he introduced himself.

“I’m Jennifer,” she responded.

“I am pleased to meet you,” Sarek said with a bow.

“Jennifer! You promised to braid my hair,” Paula appeared behind the older girl.

“Okay, okay. Mom told me to help Amanda,” she told the smaller girl.

“Hey, who’s the guy with the ears?” another girl about Paula’s age appeared in the doorway.

“That’s Sarek,” Paula said knowledgeably. “He’s more handsomer than Jason Adams and Danny Robinson,” she enthused, casting an adoring look up at the tall Vulcan. “He came to visit us with my Aunt Amanda.”

“Are you Amanda’s boyfriend?” the other little girl asked him.

“Connie!” Jennifer exclaimed. “Don’t be so nosey.”

“Well, I’m just asking… besides everyone else wants to know!” Connie said as if that justified her interrogation.

“Well, are you Amanda’s boyfriend?” Paula continued with the questioning, pulling on Sarek’s pants leg.

“Yes,” Sarek responded. He was a male friend of Amanda’s after all. Although at his age he could hardly be described as a ‘boy.’

“No,” Amanda’s voice cut through the room.

All eyes turned toward her. Sarek’s slanted eyebrow rose fractionally. Amanda looked back at him and her face suddenly colored.

“Amanda’s got a boyfriend!” Paula squealed.

“Amanda and Sarek sitting in a tree…” Connie began singing.

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Paula and Connie sang in unison then jumped up and down excitedly.

Sarek blinked. Amanda’s face turned even redder. She busied herself by placing the large centerpiece on the table.

Amanda took a long, slow breath. “Okay. I want all of you kids out of here, right now! Come on… outside. We’ve got a snowman to build.”

Amanda and Sarek were alone in the dining room. “What do you think of the centerpiece?” Amanda ventured.

“It appears to be adequate,” Sarek observed.

“Amanda and Sarek sitting in a tree…” they heard from the foyer.

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First comes love… then comes marriage… then comes a baby in a…”

“Knock it off you two babies!” Jennifer’s voice cut overtop of their song.

“Well, I need to go outside and supervise,” Amanda told Sarek without meeting his gaze. Her face was quite red. The corner of Sarek’s mouth quirked upward at Amanda’s discomfort. For some reason, he found her embarrassment to be… endearing. Amanda exited the room, and Sarek’s eyebrow went up as he pondered their relationship.

“They seem to have the basics correct,” Soran commented dryly from the doorway. He carefully placed what Sarek presumed to be a ‘pecan pie’ on the sideboard along the wall.

“Indeed,” Sarek replied, not bothering to deny the incident. “Although I must confess that I do not understand why they think I am paired with Amanda.”

“It is because the tips of your ears turn darker green whenever you are near Miss Grayson,” Soran forged ahead.

“They do not,” Sarek denied.

“Yes, they do. Quite a vibrant green, in fact,” Soran persisted.

Sarek caught sight of Amanda through the window, catching snowflakes on her tongue. He felt blood rushing to the tips of his ears and he immediately began asserting his bio-controls.

“It must be similar to your physiological reaction to our new Federation Council liaison, T’Mara,” Sarek retaliated. He was rewarded by Soran’s ears flushing pure emerald.

“I have no idea to what you are referring, S’haile,” Soran said stonily. “I was simply briefing her on Terran protocol.”

“At one o’clock in the morning?” Sarek inquired doubtfully. “I also can not recall you ordering T’Thelan wine when you briefed me in Terran protocol."

Soran’s eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms over his ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron. Sarek lifted an eyebrow at him, which Soran returned challengingly.

“Let us declare a stalemate, Soran,” Sarek made up with his aide. He had asked to hear his chief advisor’s assessment of the situation, after all.

“As you wish,” Soran said warily.

“I value your analysis, Soran,” Sarek told him honestly. “There is one more thing I do not understand.”

“What?” Soran went into his serious analysis mode just as if they were discussing negotiation strategies.

“I fail to comprehend the part about ‘a tree.’ Why would anyone be ‘kissing’ in a tree?”

“I do not understand that metaphor either, Sarek. Perhaps it is evolutionary in nature; dating back to early Homo Sapiens.”

“Ah,” Sarek replied. “That could be...just as our own bonding rituals date to Pre Reform times.” Sarek’s mouth went dry. Why had the thought of Vulcan marriage rites suddenly popped into his head along with thoughts of Amanda Grayson?

“Indeed,” Soran said softly, cocking his head to one side as he observed his friend. He quietly slipped out of the room as Sarek gazed thoughtfully out the window where the Grayson women were busy constructing a being out of snow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sarek carried the tray of cookies into the living room, searching for the table that Amanda’s mother had told him was their destination. He set the cookies on a small table that had some serving dishes already stacked on it. He surveyed his placement of the sweets, then moved the tray a millimeter to the left. Much better. As he turned to go back to the kitchen he stopped at the sound of an exasperated sigh.

The boy with the computer difficulties was staring dejectedly at the blank screen.

“Why are you not outside building a ‘snowman’?” Sarek asked him.

“Snowmen are for babies,” the boy said without looking up.

“Amanda is building a snowman and she is not a ‘baby,’” Sarek continued.

“That’s different,” the boy said, one hand idly stroking the keyboard in front of him.

“I see,” Sarek replied, even though he did not ‘see’ at all. “Your computer is not functioning?” Sarek inquired.

“No. It’s fried,” the boy said hopelessly.

“Fried?” Sarek asked as he approached the boy and his computer.

“Trashed. Busted. Hasta la vista,” the boy clarified.

“It is broken?” Sarek ventured.

“That’s what I just said,” the boy replied somewhat testily.

“You have backups of your data, I presume,” Sarek said, sitting down next to the boy.

“Kind of. Sort of. Well… no. Not really,” the boy confessed with embarrassment.

“Always make a backup disc,” Sarek lectured.

“I *know* that! These cheapo discs I got wouldn’t format correctly,” Pat told the Vulcan, holding up a Sonika brand data disc.

“Ah. That is definitely a problem. We never buy that brand at the embassy,” Sarek replied.

“Well, I’m just a kid… I don’t have a job. These were all I could afford,” Pat pointed out. “I lost all my data. I was working on a special dictionary for Aunt Amanda. I had like six thousand five hundred entries. Cross-referenced and everything. All gone!” the boy went on inexorably.

“Tell me how you had your drives partitioned,” Sarek said purposefully, taking out his data PADD.

The boy launched into a convoluted explanation of the arrangement of his hard drives. Sarek continued to ask questions and the boy was in awe of the Vulcan’s knowledge base. Paula squirmed her way onto Sarek’s lap as the two males delved deeply into computer matters.

“You’re soooo smart,” Paula sighed, looking up at Sarek.

Sarek looked down at her and arched an eyebrow. He looked up at Soran who had entered the room carrying a tray of raw vegetables. Soran examined the plate of cookies that Sarek had brought earlier. He set the vegetable tray down and consulted a printout.

“Mrs. Grayson indicated that the cookies were to go on that table,” Sarek told his aide distractedly, his eyes straying back to his PADD.

“Yes, this table, but not *there*. I have formulated a placement chart that takes into account the serving dish sizes and shapes as well as the available tabletop area. You should have consulted me,” Soran told his friend, waving the printout in the air.

“Forgive me, Soran. That is why I let you handle such details. Your expertise in matters of protocol is invaluable,” Sarek said, teasing his friend.

“Your words honor me, S’haile,” Soran replied with equal teasing, knowing it disturbed Sarek when he referred to him as S'haile in informal settings. Frowning slightly, the ambassador’s chief advisor moved the plate of cookies a millimeter to the right. Then he carefully aligned the vegetable tray to the left of the cookies. Satisfied with the layout, he turned on his heel and headed back to the kitchen.

Sarek turned his full attention back to his PADD and began outlining to the boy how to set up the system in a more efficient way the next time.

“Yeah, well, I wish you’d told me this yesterday,” Pat said glumly.

“I was not here yesterday,” Sarek commented, idly tapping his PADD with a stylus, his mind still working on the computer problem.

“Yeah, I know. Tell me about it,” Pat replied sarcastically.

“Tell you about what?” Sarek asked, puzzled.

“Never mind,” Pat said, scooting his chair closer to the Vulcan, bending over Sarek’s data PADD to see the optimal configuration.

“Yeah, never mind,” Paula echoed, looking up into Sarek’s dark eyes. She wrapped her arm around his neck. “So, is there a Mrs. Sarek?” the little girl asked the Vulcan ambassador.

“Excuse me?” Sarek replied.

“I *said*… is there a Mrs. Sarek?” Paula asked with exasperation.

“You know… your wife,” Pat explained, his forehead wrinkling in puzzlement at what the Vulcan was sketching on the PADD.

“I see. No, to answer your question, there is not,” Sarek informed her.

“Goody,” Paula said, nuzzling her hand against Sarek’s neck. Sarek’s eyebrows climbed into his bangs.

“You kids, come on and get cleaned up for dinner,” Brianna advised from the doorway.

“Just a minute, Mom,” Pat whined.

“Right now! I don’t see how you can sit in front of a computer that won’t even turn on. Both of you… come on,” she said in a voice that invited no dissent.

Paula reluctantly hopped off of Sarek’s lap and Pat slowly backed away from his computer.

Sarek made a few changes to the information on his data PADD, arching an eyebrow. He was certain that his proposed adjustments to the machine would optimize its efficiency. Now that he was alone, he opened another screen on his pad and diagrammed some more changes. He felt certain that young Patrick would be pleased with ‘Santa’s’ work.

“You are not her first choice for a bondmate,” Soran’s voice reached Sarek from the other side of the room.

Sarek’s eyes shifted to his aide. “Is that so?” Sarek asked, watching Soran inspect the positioning of a selection of cheeses.

“Yes, it is. She already inquired as to whether there was a ‘Mrs. Soran.’” With that, Soran wiped his hands on his apron and left the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To the surprise of both Vulcans, dinner was a fairly sedate affair. Baby Emily had already been put to bed, and the other two Grayson grandchildren were apparently on what Sarek had heard Brianna call ‘their best behavior or else.’ Amanda’s parents were quite pleased with the floral arrangement that Sarek and Soran had purchased for the dining room table.

The Vulcans fielded many questions over a light meal of salad and pasta. Amanda was correct… her mother was quite an excellent cook. Sarek found his eyes automatically seeking out Amanda’s form every few minutes throughout the meal. He relished in the way her blue eyes glittered with amusement at the conversation around her.

“I said… did ya ever meet any of them Deltan women?” Uncle Bob’s question reached Sarek’s ears. The Vulcan looked up to find that Uncle Bob’s eyes were trained on him.

“No,” Sarek replied simply.

“Well you know what I heard about Deltan females…” Bob continued.

“Bob, not at the dinner table!” Nell Grayson commanded from her end of the table.

“What? What did I say?” Bob asked.

“Nothing yet. And make sure it stays that way,” Nell warned.

“Sure thing,” Bob said contritely. “I’ll tell ya about it later,” he said in an exaggerated whisper, winking at Sarek.

“There isn’t a ‘Mrs. Sarek’,” Paula broadcast from the doorway, smiling at the Vulcan.

“Paula! Remember what I told about not telling everyone’s business,” her mother admonished her. “And you need to sit back down at your table and finish your dinner.”

“There isn’t a ‘Mrs. Soran’ either,” Paula continued.

“Back in the other room, you little busybody,” Nell Grayson shooed her granddaughter back into the den.

“Sorry about that…” Patrick Senior began.

“There is no need to apologize,” Soran overrode him, his eyes sliding to Sarek.

The Vulcan ambassador, however, did not seem to be particularly offended either. In fact, he seemed oblivious to everything except for Amanda Grayson’s sapphire eyes, which were locked on his own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Here,” Al Grayson handed each Vulcan a small glass sphere. “Just find a spot that looks bare, and put an ornament there,” Al instructed concisely.

Both Vulcans raised eyebrows with uncertainty.

“Go ahead,” Al encouraged, bending over to rummage through a large box.

Soran studied the coniferous tree carefully, then stepped around the children swarming at its base, and meticulously hung a red ornament on a middle branch.

He looked at Sarek who nodded with approval, then placed his own silver globe on an upper branch.

“Great! You’re getting the hang of it now,” Amanda told the two Vulcans, looking up from where she was showing her young niece where to hang another ornament.

“Here you go… two more,” Al supplied the Vulcans with two more ornaments. “The sooner we get this tree decorated, the sooner these kids go to bed. The sooner these kids are asleep, the sooner ‘Santa’ will get here,” Al said in a louder voice for his grandchildren to hear.

“How does Santa know when we’re asleep?” Pat said to no one in particular.

“He just does,” Brianna told him.

“That’s why he’s ‘Santa,’” Paula explained to her older brother as if she were speaking to a dimwit.

“Oh, well, stupid me,” Pat answered his little sister in a patronizing tone.

“Yeah, stupid you,” Paula returned matter-of-factly, delicately taking an ornament from her grandfather and rushing over to the tree with it. To the surprise of everyone, her brother Pat boosted her up so she could put it on the branch she insisted it needed to go on.

“Hey, guess where I’m gonna hang this mistletoe?” Uncle Bob said lasciviously, dangling an unopened package of mistletoe from his hand.

“Gimme that!” Al Grayson yanked the package from Bob’s hand. “Here,” he said to Soran, “you seem responsible enough to hang this up in the doorway over there,” Al pointed toward the doorway leading to the foyer. “Just take it out of the wrapping, and hang it up,” Al specified.

Soran glanced at the contents of the package and the tips of his ears darkened at the memory of this substance hung in the doorway of Amanda’s classroom. He went over to Sarek, who was placing another ornament on the tree, and bent down and spoke into the ambassador’s ear.

Sarek’s eyes were still on the ornament he had just hung on the tree as Soran put the package into his hand. Raising a satisfied eyebrow at the tree, Sarek looked at the object in his hand that Soran had told him was his next assigned task. Sarek felt the blood rush to his ears as he spun around and saw his aide’s retreating back heading for the sanctuary of the kitchen

Sarek moved to the indicated doorway as inconspicuously as possible and opened the package. The doorway wasn't that tall, so he was able to quickly affix the sprig without the use of a step stool. As he turned around he paused to watch the Grayson clan attend their festival activities. Everyone was talking, and laughing all at once; but instead of it seeming chaotic as it had before, there was a certain charm to this scene. The children had stop bickering, seriously anyway; and while Bob was still deep into his cups Sarek suspected, he was also behaving himself in a more cordial manner.

Sarek's eyes again rested on Amanda, who now was assisting the children in throwing some sort of shiny silver substance all over the tree's surface. It seemed quite a messy affair, and there were several strands of the stuff in her hair, and stuck to her sweater. She didn't seem to mind, or even notice, for that matter as she laughed and joked with the youngsters.

Perhaps this is what Amanda meant when she referred to Christmas bringing people closer together. The Grayson clan certainly had forgotten their earlier grievances, at least temporarily.

Soran had returned with another tray of cookies and he and Mrs. Grayson sat down on the couch to enjoy the fruits of their labor. Sarek was stabbed with a sudden sensation of filial affection for his friend and aide. Amanda had been quite correct when she had said that he and Soran were like family.

He shifted his gaze and found that Amanda was smiling fondly at him from a chair near the fireplace. His lips curved upward into a private smile that he had come to realize asserted itself whenever he was in her presence.

Sarek's contemplations halted when he noticed that the eyes of young Paula were staring back at him intensely. He faltered a moment, then, realizing the precise location he still stood, he swiftly moved away from under the mistletoe before she could consider an action that would be more embarrassing than her endless barrage of personal questions.

Fortunately, by this time the tree was finished, and despite a few token protests from the children they were herded up to their rooms for the night.

Once some time passed to allow the kids to fall asleep, the adults began to load an impressive pile of presents under the tree to be opened in the morning. Then Brianna came out with several bags of goodies, which she packed into the stockings that had been hung earlier across the fireplace mantel. 'Santa's' work finally done, most of the adults also turned in early for the night, explaining that they needed to get as much sleep as possible since the kids would surely be up very early in the morning. Nell, Amanda, and Soran trickled into the kitchen to make some final preparations for the next day, leaving Sarek alone in the living room.

Enjoying the peace and quiet, Sarek sat down at the desk, took a small screwdriver from his pocket, and began to disassemble Pat's computer. If he was correct, and he usually was, then in just a few hours Pat Junior would have a machine that not only worked once again, but would have all the previous files intact. Sarek’s mouth twitched upward. This ‘Santa Claus’ myth could be quite satisfactory indeed.

Sarek was deep into his work quite some time later and never heard Amanda come into the room to check on him. She tiptoed up behind him, trying to glance over his shoulder without his knowledge. When she was right behind him, she slowly bent over until her face was mere inches from his, then she urgently whispered, "What are you doing!?!"

Sarek, startled, almost dropped the replacement sion capacitor he was holding delicately by the edges. If he hadn’t caught it in the palm of his hand it would have been rendered completely useless. He turned his head in Amanda's direction to chastise her for such juvenile behavior. His censure was lost, however, when he found himself nose to nose with the young educator.

"I am attempting to repair this computer for your nephew Patrick," he murmured staring at her full mouth sitting just inches away from his. He became completely distracted from his task when her tongue snuck out to wet those lips.

“That’s very sweet of you. I know Pat will be absolutely thrilled,” she whispered back, enjoying the tiny chills she got from his hot breath hitting her face.

Soran came out bringing yet another tray to be placed on the serving table. He didn’t stay but immediately returned back to the kitchen; however, the mood was disturbed anyway. Amanda stood and moved to the side of the desk. “Am I interrupting you, then?”

‘Yes!’ his thoughts screamed, but instead he calmly replied, “No, not at all. I am almost finished here.” He looked at her a minute more, than forced his hands back to their previous task.

“Okay. I just came in to snap a couple of holopics of the tree.” She waved a mini camera to prove her claim.

Sarek nodded then continued to finish the computer, not admitting that he was constantly aware of the way Amanda kept stopping to look through the camera, then backing up towards the doorway trying to find the perfect shot. He finished his repairs, checked that the old files were accessible, then added his own personal touch. He pushed the computer back on the desk, leaving it open and turned on so the child would be sure to see it in the morning.

He looked up as Amanda snapped a few more shots of the tree. “Finished!” she exclaimed.

“As am I.” Sarek told her smiling slightly at her exuberance. His smile faded, however, when he looked up and realized precisely where Amanda had stopped to take her pictures...directly under the mistletoe. Sarek glanced back at the kitchen, but although there were no obvious signs of anyone returning soon, an insistent thrumming noise made him pause. It took a moment for him to realize it was his heart. His thoughts were becoming jumbled and illogical.

Taking a deep breath, Sarek rose and began a slow but steady walk to Amanda. He had no idea what he was doing but he let his instincts guide him.

“Hang on, Sarek. Just a sec… let me get your picture,” Amanda said, focusing the camera on him. “That’s too close,” Amanda said, shifting back a step to keep him in the frame.

Sarek reached out and pulled her back to her original spot directly under the mistletoe. She lowered the camera and the corner of his mouth went up at the shocked expression on her face.

“Sarek, what…” she began.

Before she could say anything else, the tall Vulcan pulled her closer to him and bent down and kissed her right on the mouth just as he had seen in so many Terran theatrical features. After a brief moment he released her. “Merry Christmas, Amanda,” his deep baritone was soft.

“Uh, Merry Christmas to you, too,” she responded, unsure of her next move. His arms were still loosely around her waist, and her hands had naturally come to rest on his chest when he had embraced her.

“Where did you learn to do that?” she asked, her blue eyes lighting up with mirth.

“From observing Terrans,” he said placidly.

“I see,” Amanda replied, her heart seeming to beat harder in her chest. Not sure of what she was doing, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him softly letting the kiss linger longer than the first one. She was pleased at the small moan his Vulcan control did not suppress. “Well, what do you think? Was that ‘satisfactory’, Ambassador?” Amanda inquired after the kiss ended.

Sarek’s eyes were full of affection that he would never speak aloud. “Yes, quite satisfactory. However, I will require many more data points.”

“Oh, you will, huh?” Amanda laughed, but it was cut short by Sarek’s lips softly pressing against hers again.

“Does this mean I now qualify as your ‘boyfriend’, Amanda?” he teased.

Amanda laughed, then ran her hands over the hard form of his chest. “I think that title fits now, don’t you?

Sarek kissed her hard on the mouth once more, then allowed his lips to follow the curve of her cheek and trail onto her neck. “For now, it will do,” he murmured then pulled back suddenly. “Will I have to practice my tree climbing skills?”

“What?” Amanda said, completely puzzled; then laughed as understanding dawned. “No, I think we can skip that part. In fact, I much prefer to do my kissing on a much lower surface.” She bit her lip to keep from laughing at the shocked expression on his face.

His eyebrows shot up and his face was infused with a greenish hue. He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it and looked away sheepishly. The Ambassador was speechless!

The sound of pans clinking in the kitchen brought them back to their surroundings. Sarek released her and stepped back.

“Well, I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day. I’m going to head up to bed,” Amanda told him. “Make sure Soran doesn’t stay up all night cooking,” Amanda teased. With one last look at Sarek, she turned and headed up the stairs.

Sarek stared after her, nearly jumping when he heard Soran’s voice from over his shoulder.

“Miss Grayson has retired for the evening, I see,” he commented neutrally.

“Indeed,” Sarek replied, turning around to face his friend. “You have finished with your preparations for tomorrow?”

“Yes. I believe that I have formulated optimal seating assignments for dinner,” Soran informed him, consulting his data PADD. “However, I think that I will make one small correction.”

Sarek looked down at Soran’s PADD and noted his aide moving Amanda’s seat so that it was adjacent to Sarek’s own assignment. He raised an eyebrow at his aide.

Soran raised an eyebrow of his own, then handed Sarek a cloth from his apron pocket.

Sarek looked at him with confusion and Soran discretely rubbed his index finger at the corner of his own mouth.

The ambassador applied the cloth to the corresponding area of his face and noted something bright red on the cloth. He felt the blood divert to his ears as he realized he was looking at residue from Amanda’s lipstick.

“I see you have also completed your task,” Soran gestured at the glowing computer screen.

“Yes, I believe that I recovered ninety nine point seven percent of young Patrick’s data,” Sarek reported.

“Excellent,” Soran responded. “He will be quite pleased. And the screen image is also quite appropriate.”

“Indeed,” Sarek commented. He had programmed the computer to display Vulcan characters. The Vulcan ‘Peace and Long Life’ alternated with the Terran

‘Peace on Earth,’ followed by an IDIC symbol that moved to the top of the screen then shattered into snowflakes. Sarek had affixed a large green bow to the keyboard.

“I am growing somewhat weary,” Soran confessed.

“As am I,” Sarek agreed. It had been quite a long day.

“One final task.” Soran said as he handed Sarek Amanda’s Christmas present which was wrapped in bright blue paper. Sarek put it under the tree, and glanced at Soran who nodded with assent at the placement of the gift.

The two Vulcans turned off the lights and made their way upstairs, leaving the bright glow of the computer screen behind them.

"Hey, who turned out the lights?" a slurred voice rose from the couch. Uncle Bob rubbed sleep from his eyes and looked around the room with confusion.

Soran and Sarek stopped on the bottom step and both men turned back toward the living room. Soran raised a bemused eyebrow at Sarek, then both Vulcans went back to the sofa area.

Uncle Bob focused on them unsteadily. "Are you guys elves?" he asked finally.

"No, we are Vulcans," Soran informed him.

"Hey, there were a couple of Vulcans here earlier today," Bob recalled, rising from the sofa, his balance wavering.

"Indeed," Sarek replied taking the elder Terran's arm to support him.

The man yawned loudly. "Well, I'm beat after all that work today. Guess I'd better hit the hay," Bob said.

"That is a logical decision," Soran agreed, standing on Bob's other side to help Sarek navigate toward the stairs with the man.

Sarek and Soran located Bob's sleeping quarters at the top of the stairs and helped the man into his room.

"Good night, sir," Sarek told him.

"Good night," Bob said, squinting at Sarek in the dimly lit room. "Hey, anyone ever tell you that you look just like that guy who was on the vid yesterday?"

THE END.

Day 6 of Advent

P.S: I Love You

Author: T'Sia
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Star Trek and its characters are not mine. I just play with them a bit.

Authors note: This story was written for the Sarek & Amanda advent calendar 2011 Entry: 6^th of December 2011
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rain, pouring and pouring. 'Rain? No, waterfalls from the sky', Amanda thought while she stood near one of the floor length windows in the panorama lounge of Aquatica station on Daron 5.

'Why panorama windows?' she mused while the wind blew another sheet of water against the thick glass in front of her. 'Four hundred and fifty three days of rain on average, during a five hundred and seventeen earth day year. There's nothing to see but water anyway.' She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered despite the warmth of the lounge.

The door to the ballroom behind her opened and a soft glow of warm light and audio bits of laughter and conversation floated into the lounge. She briefly looked over her shoulder and saw a human couple leaving for the evening, between them a little girl, holding one of the adults hands on each side. She looked on while the little girl chatted on, rattling down her Christmas wish list, the parents smiling indulgently.

Despite the warmth of the scene a wave of sadness swept through her. Their hosts had made sure to make up for the belated transports, going out of their way to organize a social gathering for the human delegation complete with seasonal ornaments and dishes as close to the original as possible. She knew that she'd probably have more Christmas flair here than she would have on Vulcan, but it was not helping. Nothing could replace home and family. The thought startled her. When had Vulcan become home? She smiled softly when the answer came to her on the spot and the picture of an elfin boy, barely fourteen months old, fluttered through her thoughts.

She knew that in order to preserve at least a bit of good mood she had pretended to her colleagues before she excused herself for a couple of minutes she should not do what she was about to do, but the longing was too strong. She took out her communicator and pulled up the folder of family pictures.

A soft smile played around her lips as she flipped through the images. Spock shortly after he was born - Sarek holding Spock - herself holding Spock - Spock surrounded by a mountain of stuffed toy animals (gifts from her family and human colleagues). The smile grew into a chuckle. Spock tasting porridge - porridge on Sarek's robe...

The screen of the device flickered briefly and a soft chime announced incoming messages. When she switched the menu to check, she saw that not one, but a whole bunch of messages had just arrived.

First message 'From Sarek: Your mother has arrived unexpectedly.'

'Uh-oh...'

Second message 'From mom: Oh honey, I wanted to surprise you, but Sarek told me of your delayed departure. We hope you can come soon. P.S.: Spock smiled at me!'

'Of course he does - and the gesture is all mine.'

Third message 'From Sarek: Your mother wants to decorate. As usual, she is immune to logical arguments against such an undertaking. It is unfortunate your transport is still delayed.'

Amanda sighed. Her mother and Sarek had never been a good combination. She had to smile, though, at the thought of the debate the two of them would be having over the decorations. It was unpredictable who'd have the upper hand since her mother made up with insistence for what she lacked in logic.

Fourth message 'From mom: Geez, how stubborn can a person be? Sarek is his usual self. I wished you could be here.'

'Me too, mom.'

Fifth message - her face lit up in wonder when she saw it was a picture of her mother and Spock. The image had been taken in their garden, in front of the most amazing sight she had seen in thirteen months. The small ic'tan tree in the back of their garden was decorated with lights and bulbs and other Christmas ornaments, her mother kneeling in front of it with Spock sitting on one of her knees. An oversized Santa hat just barely balanced on his head, hanging in his face and almost covering his left eye. Her mother was smiling widely and held one of Spock's hand up in a waving gesture. The picture was titled 'Merry Christmas, mommy. - P.S.: I couldn't get that stubborn Vulcan to pose with us for the picture. He will not tolerate the decoration any longer than necessary to get a few shots, but he was at least nice enough to hold the camera.'

'Of course he wouldn’t join you - he is Sarek.'

Amanda's eyes lingered on her son and tears welled up upon seeing such a recent picture of him. Had he grown already in the last two weeks? It didn't sound like a long time when she took on the assignment, but the separation was killing her after two days already when not even half of the trip duration was over. Now their departure had been delayed for over a week due to ion storms raging through the solar system and she was feeling the pain of separation almost physically. As a human she lacked the mental bond that Vulcan parents shared with their children and relied solely on Sarek's reports on Spock's health during the time she was away. And Sarek... oh how she missed him. She would feel him brush the outskirts of her mind once in a while, like the occasional sun ray chasing through the thick clouds of Daron 5's atmosphere. But since she was psi blind that was all the closeness they would get until seeing and touching each other again. She wiped a tear from her cheek and smiled through another bout of fresh moisture when she opened the second picture attached to the message. It showed Spock reaching for one of the large colorful bulbs on the tree, his yet uncontrolled expression glowing with wonder. How she would love to have such a picture with Sarek being the one holding their son...

Sixth message - she gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. As if a higher power had heard her thoughts and transformed them into actual bits, the image showed Sarek and Spock in front of the makeshift Christmas tree. Sarek had donned his red ceremonial robes and even Spock was wrapped in the miniature replica of his fathers clothing. He was reaching out for the camera when the picture was taken. The Santa hat now throned on Sarek's head, tucked neatly behind his ears. His face was impassive as always, creating a stark contrast to his attire. The picture was titled: 'Merry Christmas, my wife.'

She noticed that the angle of the picture was different, too high for her mother to be holding the camera. He must have placed it somewhere and activated the automatic programme. Also the sky was much darker than in the other pictures. He must have taken this once her mother had gone to bed. Of course! He would not be willing to share such a display of affection for her with anyone. A wave of warmth flooded through her at seeing what he was willing to do for her - to please her, even if it meant bending his own way. She softly stroked his face on the picture.

Her eyes lingered for a bit longer on her two favorite men and then she scrolled down to the bottom of the message and laughed out loud when she read the text.

'P.S.: Should this picture ever find its way to the public, it is likely to cause an intergalactic incident.'

She grinned while she typed her response: 'Your secret is safe with me, Mr. Ambassador.'

'P.S.: I love you.'

THE END

Day 7 of Advent

Home for Christmas

By T'Lina
PG
Sa/Am
hurt/comfort
hot chocolate story

A/N:  Sorry to post another sad Christmas story, but this is the one my muse poured into my head the other night.  Hope you enjoy it.  Any reviews or constructive criticism would be much appreciated.


Sarek frowned as he exited his ground car and gazed at his home.  The exterior lights shone amber through the deep blackness of the Vulcan night, but the interior was dark.  Reaching out through their telepathic bond, he tried to get a sense of Amanda's emotional state, but her mental shields were firmly in place.

Feeling uneasy, he entered his home.  From somewhere in the dark house came the soft strains of a Christmas song, "I'll Be Home for Christmas."  He hung his cloak on a peg in the entry hall and removed his boots.  Slipping his feet into his worn house slippers, he called out, "Amanda?"  There was no response.

He went in search of his wife.  The kitchen was dark and silent.  After depositing a small package on the kitchen counter, he entered the living room.  Multicolored lights glowed on the small artificial Christmas tree they had set up on a low table, but she was not there.  I-Chaya rose from his bed next to the picture windows to greet his master.  "Where is she?"  Sarek asked his old friend.  The sehlat sat and gazed up at his master with soulful brown eyes, whining softly.

"Come, old friend, let us go find Amanda," Sarek said as he stroked the rough fur of his pet's head.  He headed for their bedroom, I-Chaya padding silently behind him.  When he entered the room, he saw her standing next to one of the bedroom windows gazing out at her garden.

"I've been looking outside all day" she said quietly, "but there's no sign of snow."  It was the middle of Vulcan's "winter," and the temperature had struggled all day to reach 90 degrees Fahrenheit.

Sarek walked over to stand close behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders.  "There is little likelihood of snow this evening, my wife," he said softly.

She leaned back against him, reaching her right hand up to caress his left hand where it rested on her shoulder.  "I can always dream," she replied.

After a few moments of silence, she went on.  "I saw Dr. Corrigan today.  He said that I'm recovering nicely and we can resume marital relations in about four weeks.  He advised against trying to get pregnant again for at least four to six months so my body has a chance to fully recover."

"Amanda…" Sarek began, but she turned to face him.

"Did you see her?  She was a beautiful little girl with blue eyes and pointed ears."

"I saw her," he replied quietly, stroking her hair.

She gripped the soft fabric of her husband's tunic, burying her face against his chest so he wouldn't see the tears welling up in her eyes.  Sarek wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close against him, lowering his mental shields completely so she could feel his own unspoken grief.

"I am sorry this happened again, ashayam.  Dr. Corrigan told me this process has taken a toll on your body.  Perhaps we should stop trying to have a child and be content with our life as it is now.  You are all I need, Amanda.  If I were to lose you, I don't know how I would go on."

She burrowed deeper against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist.  "I want to give you a child," she whispered.  "I want that more than anything."

He sighed and rested his chin on the top of her head.  "Your parents contacted me at my office this afternoon.  They were concerned because you hadn't responded to any of their messages."

"I didn't know what to say to them."

He pulled back and lifted her chin so they gazed into each other's eyes.  "What would you say to a Christmas visit to your parents in Minnesota, k'diwa?  While I do not relish the thought of snow or sub-zero temperatures, I took the liberty of booking passage to Earth for the two of us tomorrow morning at 5:25 AM.  I calculate that we should arrive at your parents' home at approximately 9:25 PM on Christmas Eve.  Would you like that?"

She smiled mistily up at him.  It was the first time he had seen her smile since she lost the baby.  "I would, very much.  Thank you for thinking of it. I missed being home for Christmas last year."

"I bought you something I hope will improve your mood at least a little," Sarek replied, his dark eyes gazing at her with what she knew to be love, even though he would never admit to feeling that emotion.

"What is this surprise?" she asked with a small smile, her curiosity piqued.

"Come into the living room.  Sit and enjoy listening to your Christmas music, and I will bring your surprise to you there."  Taking her hand, he drew her into the living room and gently helped her sit in the antique oak rocker she had brought with her from Earth.  After covering her with the dark blue afghan her mother had crocheted for her the previous Christmas, he went into the kitchen and closed the door behind him.  I-Chaya settled at her feet, resting his massive head on her lap.  "Whatever is he up to, sweet pea?" she said as she scratched the ecstatic sehlat behind his ears.

Closing her eyes, she leaned back in the rocker as she listened to the heavenly sounds of her favorite Christmas carol, "Silent Night."  Within minutes, a familiar smell began to emanate from the kitchen.  The kitchen door opened, and Sarek walked out carrying a tray with a pot of hot chocolate and two Christmas mugs.

"Merry Christmas, Amanda," he said as he set the tray down on the table beside the rocker.  He poured hot chocolate into one mug and handed it to her.  After pouring another cup for himself, he sat down in his favorite chair on the opposite side of the table.

She took a cautious sip and sighed with pleasure.  "Delicious," she commented, smiling at her husband.  "Merry Christmas, Sarek.  Thank you for thinking of this.  You are so sweet, and I love you so much."

He replied, "I cherish thee, my aduna," as he extended his hand in her direction. She reached out and placed her hand in his.  He squeezed it gently and released it.

They sat and sipped their hot chocolate in comfortable silence as they listened to "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas."  After a few moments, he stole a brief glance at his wife.  She seemed more at peace than she had been in days.  Perhaps this trip to visit her family would be healing for them both.  Perhaps, in time, their wish for a child to complete their union would be fulfilled after all.  As his grandfather, Solkar, had often said, "There are always possibilities."

_________________________________

A/N:  Dr. Daniel Corrigan is a character created by Jean Lorrah in her novel "The Vulcan Academy Murders."

Day 8 of Advent

The Gift

Author: T’Lina

Rating: G

Characters: Sa/Am

Story type: Family, Romance

Acknowledgement: Thanks to T’Ashalik for the beta

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't profit.

Sarek looked thoughtfully at the small Christmas gift he held in his hands. Cradling it carefully, he lifted his head to gaze into Amanda's sapphire eyes, now glowing with anticipation of his reaction to the present she had so carefully prepared for him.

"Well, are you going to open it, or just sit there looking at it?" she asked leaning forward impatiently.

"Since you are apparently unable to contain your impatience, aduna, I shall open the present," he replied with mock seriousness.

Sarek slowly removed the ribbon and colorful wrapping paper, setting them aside. He arched one brow as he gazed at the exquisite nlaid wooden box he now held in his hands.

Tracing with one finger the dekucate design of yellow Terran roses intertwined with blue Vulcan ha'lei'ha flowers, a symbol of their Vulcan/human union, he commented, "Fine craftsmanship went into the making of this box. It is most pleasing. Did you commission it from Master Craftsman Selok? I recognize his workmanship."

She smiled. "Yes. And I'm glad you like the box. But please open it, sweetheart. There's something else inside the box."

He glanced up at his wife. "There is more? The box itself is more than sufficient. Selok's work is highly prized throughout the Federation."

When she failed to respond, he relented and lifted the lid of the box. Inside, nestled in royal blue silk, lay an elegant carving of a woman wearing gracefully draped Vulcan robes, her lips curved in a gentle smile, hands cradling her obviously pregnant belly.

"I asked Selok to carve it last week," Amanda explained softly. "He thought the concept was 'fascinating' and agreed to begin work on it immediately."

Frowning, he lifted the figurine from the box and held it up to the light to examine it more closely. As he turned it from side to side, he noted that the figurine had his wife's shell-like rounded ears, rather than the gracefully pointed ears of a Vulcan female.

Brows rising to his hairline, he raised his eyes to meet those of his wife. "Amanda? Does this mean..."

She nodded and smiled, tears of joy glistening in her eyes. "Yes, adun. I'm pregnant again. And, Sarek, I know this little one will be all right.

I had a dream last night that was so vivid, it seemed real. It was Christmas, and I was sitting in my oak rocking chair nursing a beautiful little baby boy and humming a Christmas carol. This time next year there will be a new addition to our family. Merry Christmas, my husband."

Sarek gently rested one hand on her still-flat belly, reaching paired fingers of the other hand to caress her cheek. "Merry Christmas, my Amanda," he whispered, his eyes shining with what she knew to be love, even though he would never name it as such. "I thank thee for thy gift."

The Vulcan ha'lei'ha flower was invented by Mary Stacy for her lovely story "All That Is, All That Was, All That Will Never Be." If you haven't read her beautiful stories before, I highly recommend them.

A/N It wasn't planned that way, but this little vignette can be considered a bridge between my stories "Home for Christmas" and "Possibilities."

Day 9 of Advent

Possibilities

By T'Lina

A/N This story started percolating in my brain not long after I posted the previous hot chocolate story.  I realized that I wanted to give our favorite couple a happier ending than in the first story.

I want to express a very special 'Thank you" to T'Sia for requesting a follow-up story.  That meant a lot to me, and I hope you like what I've written.

I meant to have this story up on Christmas Day, but struggled with the final sentence for over a week.  I finally think it's fairly presentable.  Any reviews or suggestions as to how to improve the story would be much appreciated.

Summary:  Sarek and Amanda share a joyous evening at home during the Christmas season.

Sarek gazed at the front of his home as he exited his ground car.  The exterior lights glowed amber in the deep blackness of the Vulcan night, but the interior was dark.  Reaching out through their telepathic bond, he gauged his bondmate's emotional state.  Quiet contentment and love flowed to him in gentle waves.  Nodding in satisfaction, he entered his home.

From somewhere in the house came the soft strains of one of Amanda's favorite Christmas carols, "What Child Is This?"  After hanging his cloak on its peg in the entry hall, he removed his boots and slid his feet into his new house slippers, an early Christmas gift from his wife after his old ones had literally disintegrated.  "Amanda?" he called out softly.

"In here," came the response from the direction of the living room.  Depositing a small package on the kitchen counter, he entered their living room.  Multicolored lights glowed on the small artificial Christmas tree they had set up on a low table.  He found his bondmate sitting in her antique oak rocking chair, their tiny baby nursing contentedly at her breast.  I-Chaya snored peacefully at her feet.

Moving to the side of the rocking chair, he knelt beside her as he gazed at this tiny miracle that had so recently come into their lives.  "My wife."

"Hi, handsome," she replied, reaching her hand behind his neck to draw his head down for a kiss.

"How was he today?" Sarek asked, reaching one finger to stroke his son's soft cheek.

"The little rascal slept most of the day," she replied looking lovingly up at him.  "I actually had time to cook a real meal for us.  It's in the warmer in the kitchen.  Unfortunately, he'll probably have me up all night."

"I will speak to him about his inverted schedule," Sarek replied, watching with fascination as the baby's fingers gripped his index finger with surprising strength for one so small.

"Spock and I had follow-up visits at the Vulcan Academy Medical Center today.  Dr. Corrigan said that I'm recovering nicely and we can resume marital relations in about two weeks.   Healer Sorel found Spock's development to be `satisfactory'.  He's gaining weight and nursing well.  As long as he continues to get supplemental bottles of donated Vulcan mother's milk from the Mothers and Infants Milk Bank, and develops as well as he is now, I can keep nursing him for a few more months."

"Did Sorel perform the intelligence and psi potential evaluations I requested?"

"He did, and he found that Spock's IQ appears to be quite high even for a Vulcan infant.  Early measurements of psi potential aren't as accurate as the Vulcan Medical Association would like, but Sorel said it appears Spock will have a high esper rating as well."

Sarek nodded, gazing into his infant son's dark eyes, which were focused on him with intense concentration.  "He is obviously a superior child."

Amanda gazed up at her husband with a twinkle in her eyes.  "Oh, yes, obviously.  He is, after all, your son."

"Is he due for his supplemental bottle?" Sarek asked.  She knew through their bond that he was searching for a logical reason to hold his new son.

"Actually he is," she replied.  "The bottle's in the warmer," she continued, indicating a small warming unit on the table next to her rocking chair.

"I will give him his bottle," her husband said as he reached for his son, "if you have no objection?"

"Not at all.   He's all yours," Amanda replied, lifting the baby up to her husband's strong hands.  She caught his quick glance at the rocking chair.  Rising, she said, "Why don't you sit in the rocking chair to give him his bottle?  I'll go check to make sure dinner's not getting too dried out."

"A logical suggestion," Sarek commented as he sank into his wife's rocking chair, his attention focused on his son.  When she returned to the living room a few minutes later, she found her husband rocking contentedly, his son in his arms.  The bottle, now upside down, rested in the warmer, and an all too familiar smell permeated the living room.

"I think Spock has a little surprise for you in his diaper, Daddy," she said.

Sarek nodded.  "I am not unaware of his surprise," he replied.  "I will change his diaper.  Sit and relax; enjoy listening to your Christmas music," he said, rising as he lifted his son to his shoulder.  Amanda watched as her husband gently patted their baby's back until the sound of a resounding burp filled the room.

Sinking gracefully into her rocking chair, she leaned forward to stroke I-Chaya's head.  The sehlat stirred and yawned, gazing up at his mistress with his dark brown eyes.  "Want to go watch The Boss change Spock's diaper?" she asked the sleepy sehlat.

He answered her query with a soft "Yowp."

She smiled at their beloved family pet as she rose from the rocking chair.  They moved together to the nursery door.  Leaning against the doorway, she watched her husband interact with their son, her right hand resting on the rough reddish-brown fur of I-Chaya's head.

In the soft glow of a night light, Sarek leaned over his son's small body as he unfastened the dirty diaper.  "Your mother tells me that you slept most of the day and will most likely be awake a significant portion of the night," he said softly as he cleaned his son's bottom with a damp cleansing cloth and tossed the cloth and his son's soiled diaper into the fresher.  "It is not logical to follow such a schedule, my son," he continued as he slid a clean diaper under Spock's bottom.  "In future, you will maintain a normal schedule.  You will remain awake during the day and sleep during the night.  That is the preferred schedule for a Vulcan infant."

Amanda smiled tenderly as she watched the baby gaze up into his father's somber gaze with wide eyes, arms and legs windmilling in gentle orchestrated movements.  From the moment of his birth, Spock had appeared to be most fascinated with his father.

When her husband lifted their son in his arms, she scurried back to the living room and sank into the rocking chair only seconds before her husband re-entered the living room.  "Did you find our father-son conversation enlightening, my wife?"

"It was adorable," she replied, blue eyes twinkling.  "You ready to eat?  I'll go get dinner on the table."

"That would be acceptable," he replied as he followed her into the kitchen.  He placed the baby in an infant seat she had left on the kitchen counter earlier in the day and took his place at the table.  She served the food and they ate in silence, as is the Vulcan Way.  Spock sat peacefully in his seat and watched them, his dark eyes moving back and forth between his mother and father.

When they had finished eating and cleared the table, Sarek picked Spock up in his infant seat and followed Amanda back into the living room.  Removing the baby from his seat, he handed him to his wife and said, "I have a small surprise for you.  I will bring it to you here."

"A surprise, eh?  Couldn't be the same surprise you had for me last year or the year before that, could it?"

The corners of Sarek's mouth quirked ever so slightly.  "If I told you, my wife, it would no longer be a surprise."

"Quite logical," she replied with a mischievous smile.  Her husband had bowed his head in acknowledgement and disappeared into the kitchen.  Amanda gazed down at her child where he lay in her arms.  "Whatever do you suppose Sa-Sa is up to in there, little one?" she whispered, lowering her head to kiss his forehead and nose.  The baby gazed up at her in fascination.  "You know something, sweet pea?  You're the best Christmas present ever.  Sa-sa and I love you very much, even if he'll never admit it."

I-Chaya whined and rested his massive head on Amanda's knees, his mournful brown eyes moving significantly from his mistress to this new rival for the attention of his master and mistress.

"Oh, I-Chaya, don't be jealous.  We still love you.  And I need you to help me take care of him and watch over him.  When he's a little bigger, you and he will be best friends, just as you and Sarek were when he was a little boy.  Do you understand?"

I-Chaya, who had gazed earnestly up at his mistress while she spoke, uttered a low moaning noise and lowered his head, nostrils flaring, to sniff the baby's skin.  Apparently satisfied with Spock's scent, he very delicately washed the baby's silky black hair with his rough tongue.  The baby startled when the sehlat's tongue first touched his head, but then cooed and waved his arms happily.

"Very good, I-Chaya," Amanda said, stroking the sehlat's head.  "I'm glad you like Spock.  I think he likes you too."

As she spoke, she noticed a delicious, and familiar, smell emanating from the kitchen.  Moments later Sarek walked into the living room bearing a tray with a pot of hot chocolate and two Christmas mugs.

"Merry Christmas, Amanda," he said as he set the tray down on the table beside her and poured her a cup of hot chocolate.  After pouring himself a cup, he sat down in his chair on the opposite side of the table.

Amanda took a sip of her hot chocolate.  "Delicious," she commented.  After taking another sip, she put the cup on the table.  "Mom and Dad contacted me this afternoon to give me the itinerary for their trip to Vulcan.  They're scheduled to arrive at Shi'Kahr space port at 7 A.M. on Christmas Eve.  I told them you'd meet them there and bring them to the house."

"Are they well?" Sarek asked.

"They're both fine.  They're really looking forward to meeting their new grandson."

"It will be good to see them again."

"It will.  I guess it took the birth of a grandson to finally persuade them to come here to spend Christmas with us."  She smiled and reached her hand across the table.  "Thank you for being so good about having them stay with us, dear.  I love you."

Sarek took her hand in his and squeezed it gently before releasing it.  "I cherish thee, my aduna."

They sat in companionable silence sipping hot chocolate and listening to the heavenly strains of "Silent Night."  Sarek stole a quick glance at his wife.  She was rocking their son and humming along with the music, her eyes gazing fondly at the sleeping infant in her arms.  Her quiet joy on this night was a most pleasing contrast to her sadness of two years ago following the loss of their unborn daughter.  After years of heartbreak and disappointment, their union was finally complete with the birth of this child.  Sometimes possibilities are realized and dreams come true.

"A new baby is like the beginning of all things - wonder, hope, a dream of possibilities."  Eda J. Le Shan
___________________________________

A/N

Dr. Daniel Corrigan and Healer Sorel are characters created by Jean Lorrah in her novel "The Vulcan Academy Murders”.

Day 10 of Advent

Tradition

Author: Ruth White
Rating: Gen
Fandom: Classic Trek
Characters Sarek / Amanda
Summary: Use the following phrase in a 100+ word log / "...dating back to ancient times..."
Disclaimer:  The characters aren't mine, I've just borrowed them.

Amanda shifted the waistband again. A cool breeze ruffled against her bare skin. She felt almost naked in the outfit. It might be traditional, dating back to ancient times, but Amanda wished that Sarek had agreed to allowing her to wear a more modern dress for her first meeting with his relatives.

"I feel positively bare in this!" she hissed at Sarek as he walked by her side.

"I believe the original purpose was to ensure that the bride approaching her new clan was not armed and yet retain a modicum of propriety," Sarek replied gravely.

"It'd be difficult to envision anyone smuggling in a weapon wearing this, yes," Amanda muttered.

The hot sand beneath her bare feet helped to offset the chill wind that blew down from the mountains shrouded in the dusk. The two pieces of material that hung down from the waistband fluttered around her legs like the caress of silken hands.

"There were a few incidents where the feat was managed," Sarek informed her.

"How!" she exclaimed then winced as her voice rang out harsh against the silence. "On second thoughts, don't answer that. I'm sure I don't want to know."

"The histories do not record that particular detail," Sarek said, glancing sidelong at her. "Though I agree, it is probably best not to speculate."

o0o

Day 11 of Advent

Santa Sarek

A picture by Caz and it can be found here: http://fav.me/d4ioljn

Day 12 of Advent

Up on the Rooftop

Author:  Ster Julie
Codes:  Sa (Sa/Am implied), S; family; humour; written for the Sa/Am Advent Calendar 2011
Rating:  G
Part 1 of 1

Summary:  Christmas can cause such mayhem!

A/N:  Thank you, Kaz, for creating such wonderful artwork of Baby Santa Spock, which inspired this tale. Thank you, Vulcan Language Dictionary, for the Vulcan words.

-ooOoo-

Sarek awoke to see two solemn, dark eyes peering at him over the edge of the sleeping platform.

"Sa-fu?" he said sleepily.  "Why are you not in bed?"

"I heard a noise, Sa-mekh," the boy whispered fearfully.

"What kind of noise?"

Little Spock drummed his fingertips quickly on the bedside table, making sure that his nails clacked irregularly on the hard surface.

"Like that, only louder," he explained.

"And from where did this sound emanate?" Sarek asked.

Spock's eyes opened fully. "From the roof, Sa-mekh!" he breathed.

Sarek sighed.  His wife and his visiting mother-in-law had insisted in reading that arcane, inane story to one very young and impressionable Spock, and now Sarek had to deal with what Amanda would refer to as "the fallout."

"Spohk..." he began.

"Ko-mekh-il Grayson said that Santa Claus would be coming tonight," Spock interrupted, pondering.  "Could it be Santa?  Ko-mekh-il said that he rides in a sleigh pulled by eight tiny reindeer that fly.  But how can they fly if they have no propulsion?  And how can Santa fly here from Earth without a warp drive?  Or oxygen?  And if they land on our house, will they not fall through the roof?  How much can eight tiny reindeer weigh?  `Tiny' is a very imprecise measurement..."

Sarek considered placing his hand over his small son's mouth to stop the cascade of questions.  He had tried to interrupt Spock's myriad of questions several times, to no avail.

"Sa-fu, Spohk-am," tried again, "the security system is in place.  No one could be on our roof without setting off the alarm.  Santa Claus is merely a figure based on an Earth legend.  Santa is not on our roof, nor are their eight tiny reindeer pulling him about on a sleigh.  The sounds you heard were most likely plant matter borne by the night winds.  All of your hypotheses were based on very few facts.  However, your questions were very insightful, and I commend you for that.  We can further this discussion in the morning.  Now, it is very late.  Go back to your own bed."

"Yes, Sa-mekh," Spock replied meekly.  "May I take Ee-chaya to my room?"

Sarek nodded sleepily.  He heard his son's soft footfalls down the corridor followed by the lumbering galumphing of the great sehlat.

Just then, as Sarek was falling back to sleep, all hell broke loose.

Growl!

"Ee-chaya!"

"Eeeek!"

"Santa?"

Crash!

"Protect!"

"Help!"

"MOM!"

"Sa-mekh!"

"SAREK!"

In the short amount of time it took for Sarek to jump from his bed and run toward the sounds, it was all over.

Amanda was pinned under Ee-chaya's great forepaws, getting a thorough face-licking.

Mrs. Grayson was picking up broken pieces of ornaments from the overturned Christmas tree she had just finished decorating.

And Spock was tearing into a package bearing a tag: TO SPOCK, FROM SANTA.

The boy looked up at his father with a wondering gaze.

"I did hear sounds on the roof, Sa-mekh!" he declared.  "Santa did come!"

END

Day 13 of Advent

Mistletoe

By Starfleetdream

December 13, 2229

Amanda smiles bemusedly as she looks around the Linguistics office. It’s only 17:00, but the department holiday party is already in full swing.  Some joker (Rob, probably) has hung mistletoe in every doorway.  As she observes the rum-and-eggnog-fueled revelry going on about her, she has no doubt that any number of regrettable incidents will occur before the evening is over.  She, however, has plans to escape: she has promised to show Sarek a variety of holiday traditions from different Earth cultures on display around the city tonight.

She grabs her coat and is saying her good-byes when she notices that he’s arrived, standing a bit uncertainly at the office entrance, not sure what to make of the scene within.   He sees her, and takes a step inside.  Then she realizes where he’s standing, underneath one of the innocent-looking green sprigs.   Worse, Charlene from reception—who has been patrolling these doorways all afternoon -- is making a beeline in his direction.

Amanda doesn’t quite run, but she moves quickly enough to head off the predatory Charlene and gently pushes Sarek out the doorway, hands on his chest.  He looks down at her, questioning. “Sorry,” she says, a little breathlessly. “I didn’t want you to be accosted without warning.”   She points to the mistletoe.  ”First winter holiday tradition to be explained: Any couple finding themselves underneath a hanging mistletoe is supposed to kiss.”   He merely lifts a brow.

They are walking out now, and she continues to elaborate.  ”A kiss underneath the mistletoe is supposed to signify either deep romance or lasting friendship.  We think the tradition originated with the ancient Greeks or in Scandinavia.  In any case, it was popularized in the mid-18th century in - mmmph!”

She is suddenly silenced as Sarek leans down quickly and kisses her. Her startled eyes widen as she notices they have walked under another mistletoe.

“Was that correct?”  he asks, innocently.

She only nods, amazed.

“Excellent.  What tradition is next?”

Many come to Amanda’s mind, but none have anything to do with Christmas.

END

Day 14 of Advent

Fecundity

Author: Mara
Rating: Teen
Fandom: Classic Trek
Characters Sarek / Amanda
Summary: This is a kind of re-do of a story I did for a different fandom. It examines one very fantastic way Spock was conceived. It is pure fluff, mostly non-canon, and completely unbelievable. It's just for fun. It does reference another story that was the prequel to this from the other fandom. Someday I might re-do that for Sarek and Amanda. Osu/Osa = honorific for sir/lady per online Vulcan dictionary thingy. Includes some made up characters. First ever try at a Sarek/Amanda fic. Typos and bad grammar are all mine.

Disclaimer: The characters are Paramount's, I've just used them.

Fecundity

December 2232


Like tall ships sliding over a turbulent sea, grey clouds gathered over the Vulcan Embassy on Earth, blown inland from the bay by a wind that caused the normally placid waters near the shore to churn and crest in a violent dance. Rain drops splattered loudly on the flagstone walk and against the glass panes of the windows of the massive building, announcing the rolls of thunder in the distance. The frenzied cry of the sea gulls warned others to seek refuge from the coming storm. A flash of lightning split the sky into a dismal jigsaw puzzle. Sarek put down his PADD and looked out the window at the gathering gloom. His mind flashed back to the first summer thunderstorm he had weathered on Terra ten years before while his father was still ambassador.  The lightning and thunder had crashed around him like a maelstrom, shaking the windows of his office, exhilarating and frightening him at the same time. The storm had been just the thing to test his mettle for life on a planet with drastic changes in weather and he had passed with flying colors. Over the years, he had weathered many storms and he hoped he would weather many more.

There was, however, one storm brewing that only he could quell. Ever since aide and closest friend, Senn, had intimated that a "little Sarek" might be a fine idea, Sarek had been thinking about the possibilities of such an occurrence. It had been only a year ago that he and Amanda had bonded as one, husband and wife for all eternity. It was a pledge Sarek took seriously and he knew Amanda did, too. He had searched for his soul mate and was not about to let her get away from him. The idea that he and Amanda might have a child together was fantastic and inconceivable at the same time. Yet, it stirred his heart to just think of it. A child of his own with Amanda...well, it was ..."Unthinkable," he muttered. He was a Vulcan and she was a Human, could their physiologies work together to sustain a pregnancy? Medical science was advanced and the Vulcan Science Academy was working on just such experiment. He and Amanda had consulted the Academy about the possibility of conceiving and awaited a positive response, but none had yet been forthcoming. Still, red blood did not pump through his veins, his copper-based blood had to be incompatible with her iron-rich system. He was sure the same was true for his semen; human semen had to survive the harsh environs of the female reproductive system and only one of millions of sperm survived to fertilize the egg. Surely his alien sperm would be lysed in the onslaught of the immune response. The thought that he and Amanda could conceive a child defied logic...or did it?

"T'Kal T'Ryll." Sarek spoke the woman's name simultaneously with the thought. "Of course." Why hadn't he thought of her before? T'Kal T'Ryll was not a healer but archivist at the embassy; but she had talents beyond those of conventional medicine. Moreover, she had helped him when he had had that other problem of a rather personal nature. Her methods were unorthodox and bordered on what some called "witchery"; but, she achieved results where others failed. Though the idea of consulting her was vexing to him, Sarek decided that it was necessary and logical to gain all the facts.

The rain started to pour as Sarek exited his office and headed to the embassy archives. He stopped in front of the door that lead into T'Kal's small office. Surely, she would have an answer for him. Sarek knocked on the door, "Come in," T'Kal said. The room was just as he remembered from his prior visit, dark but not dreary, in fact, it was most soothing. The tall shelves still crowded the room and were piled with more PADDS and objects, if that was possible.


T'Kal was at least as old at T'Pau, but heavier and taller, with a quite ample bosom for a Vulcan female. "Good Day, Osu Sarek," the woman declared as she looked up from her computer console. "I am honored by thy visit. How may I assist? Come, sit down." She invited him to sit.

"Good Day, T'Kal," he stuttered. The same strange feeling came over him that he had the last time he met with T'Kal. He wanted to tell her everything; to blurt out what was on his mind without regard to propriety or convention, "I have come to ask your advice."

"You wish to know if thee and Osa Amanda will conceive a child," she said matter of factly.

"Yes." Sarek rubbed his hands together, "that is it exactly." It was unsettling that she could know his mind. She was a very strong telepath. "Is it possible?"

"Quite possible, I assure you, Osu." T'Kal sat up straight in her chair and gazed pointedly at the ambassador. "Your bonding shall prove it.

"Can you tell me how? How does it work?" Sarek wiped his hands over his pant legs. His palms were sweaty, but he felt a chill.

T'Kal cocked an eyebrow at him. "I don't think I need to explain to you how a child is conceived."

"No...I know that. But, how does it work...will it work between Amanda and me?"

"I'm never sure what the best way to explain this is." T'Kal flipped through a large PADD on her desk. "Have thee and Osa Amanda discussed having a child?"

" We have."

"She is in agreement with thee?"

Sarek swiped his hand over his chin. "Yes. She would like a child, but neither of us is sure it is possible…biology may be an impediment, we are so different."

T'Kal's eyes twinkled with Vulcan delight. "More alike than different. Two of one soul."

"Yes, but the physiology."

"To begin, thee have to change thy thinking about thy differences, Osu, if thee and thy lady are ever to conceive a child." T'Kal's tone was authoritative; she stopped to read a page in the PADD and muttered something in old Vulcanar.

Sarek was beginning to get anxious, as anxious as any Vulcan would ever admit to. He was uncomfortable with T'Kal's inscrutability.  Why did she always consult that PADD? Why couldn't she just give him a straight answer?

"Osu, you just have to stop thinking about what it means to be a Vulcan or Human. If thee think thee cannot conceive a child, then thee will not. Thee have to visualize it. Believe that thee will. Negative thinking never got anyone anywhere." T'Kal got up from the desk and walked to the big cabinet in one corner of the room. "There are a few things I can give you to help," she said, examining a few bottles and jars. "But you will have to do most of this thyself." She brought several bottles and jars from the cabinet back to the desk. "To start, take a milli-unit of this twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening mixed with Vulcan port." She placed some herbs from the jars in a mortar and used a pestle to grind them into a fine powder. When she was satisfied with the consistency, she put it in a smaller jar for Sarek.

He examined the jar carefully. "What is in this?" he asked boldly. He had never bothered to ask T'Kal what was in the potion she had made for him before.

"Oh, a little wyscalia, snoxumium, genuviatia, and Romulan eoteltsim. It will aide thee. Now, tomorrow I would like to see the and Osa Amanda and I will give thee more instruction. Both of thee must understand that this conception will work." T'Kal said. "Be here at 16:00." She lead Sarek to the door, "Until then."

Sarek stumbled out of the door and into the hall. He jammed the jar T'Kal gave him into his pocket and headed off to the embassy gymnasium. He needed to focus and physical exertion was often helpful.

The gym wasn't very crowded, but it was early in the evening yet.  Sarek changed from his suit into his Suss Mahn attire and began to go through the series of traditional stances and movements. He was as skilled as any Vulcan male in the martial arts, finding it to be the perfect balance of exercise and meditation.

 "Sarek, it is nice to see that your wife is allowing you time to condition yourself," Senn said with a distinct chuckle as he approached his friend. The two men had always enjoyed a collegial friendship.

"Yes, Amanda can be accommodating in this regard. She often compliments me on my superior physique. Which is more than T'Jen can say of your corpulent state," Sarek thrust his fist forward at the weigh bag.

"Indeed, it is this soft living and easy work that has been my ruin. If only I worked at an occupation that demanded more from me; that was equal to my intellectual and physical capacity." Senn bowed before Sarek, his intent to begin sparring in the Suss Mahn.

"Yes, I can see that your brain has turned to fat as well," Sarek returned the bow and the two began a friendly but competitive bout. It was good to compete against his friend and the exertion cleared his mind of his visit with T'Kal.  After thirty minutes of fighting, the pair ended their workout. "You are an accomplished competitor, Senn," Sarek said heaving himself from the floor.

"It is rare that I better you, my friend."

"Indeed. Perhaps I am the one whose work has made him soft."

Senn raised his eyebrow, "Perhaps. Will you take the zhis, Sarek?" Senn inquired, indicating his plan to partake of the traditional Vulcan sauna.

"Not today. I must attend to some work before end meal." Sarek retrieved his suit from his cabinet, and headed up to his private quarters still in his Suss Mahn gear. He found Amanda in their private kitchen making a pot of coffee. She could drink litres of it, and seemed to, he thought.  After she put the carafe back on the counter, he slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his chest. "Mrs. Ambassador," he whispered in her ear, letting his lips linger over her skin.

 "Mr. Ambassador." She covered his hands with hers. "Where have you been?"

 "In the gymnasium with Senn. We had a match of Suss Mahn."

 "Darn, I missed it. All that rippling Vulcan man-flesh." Amanda turned in his arms and saw he was still in the traditional attire. "Or, maybe I didn't miss it." She ran her hands up his arms, and was sure he flexed his muscles just for her benefit. She twined her arms around his neck. "A fine specimen," she laughed.


Sarek loved the sound of her laughter. It was the sweetest music in the universe to him. He placed a string of soft kisses on her neck. "Have I ever mentioned that you are the most beautiful and desirable woman on this planet?"

"You may have, but tell me again," she whispered.

"You are the most exquisite creature in the universe." He pressed a moist kiss on her neck, nibbling his way along her shoulder.

Amanda whispered, "Am I?"

"Indeed." He pulled her close. "I went to consult T'Kal T'Ryll today."

"You did? Why? Are you unwell?" her voice held a note of worry.

"I am well." Sarek let his hands slip down to her behind and pulled her body into his.

"So, why the visit to T'Kal?"

"I was thinking about what we spoke of the other night."

"Which was?" Amanda always wondered why Sarek couldn't just get to the point.

 "About a baby," he said softly.

 "Oh, really, Sarek? What did she say?"

 "She said it was possible and she can help. She wants to see us tomorrow at 16:00. You will come." It wasn't a demand, despite sounding like one.

 "Of course, I will." Amanda hugged him tightly. "Oh, Sarek, I didn't think you really wanted to try to have a baby."

 "I do, Aduna. I cannot imagine anything better than for us to have a child." He placed a soft kiss on her head.

Amanda smiled up at him, tears of happiness in her eyes, "If you weren't married, I'd run off with you."

 "Where shall we go, K'diwa? Name but the place and it shall be yours."

"There are so many from which to choose. May I pick any in the galaxy?" She asked and Sarek nodded in assent. "D'H'riset, it's a beautiful place on Vulcan. Do you know it?"

 "Indeed, I do. A fine choice, Aduna." Sarek pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that soon grew into something a bit more. But, the spell was broken by the strident beep of the comm. unit.

"Kroykah!" Sarek exclaimed in response to the beeping. "I was going to take you out to the garden," Sarek said. "Now, that the thunderstorm has passed."

Amanda smoothed her hand down his chest. "Tonight, when everyone's asleep, we can go out and gaze at the stars."

"I tell time by the stars, you know?"

"I know…" Amanda pulled his head down to hers and their lips met in a solid embrace. "It's one of the things I find irresistible about you."

"Irresistible?"

"Yes." Her fingers slid through the short hairs at the back of his neck.  "Better answer the comm. It's probably Senn or Skopek."

# # #

Sarek had been nervous, though he would disavow any acknowledgement of such a state, the whole day about the next meeting with T'Kal T'Ryll. As much as he was sure he wanted to have a child with Amanda, it was a huge step…bigger to his thinking than practically anything in his life so far.


"Sarek…please, stop with the pacing, you're wearing a hole in the carpet," Amanda was just as anxious as he was and would have been pacing, too, if he hadn't started first. She busied herself reading over some comments from Nash Thornton on the Universal Translator and was quite pleased with what she saw.

 "It is time to go. Are you ready?" Sarek jammed his hands in his trouser pockets and stalked over to the window.

"I've been ready for half an hour," she said.

"Let us go." His manner was grumpy. Amanda smiled inwardly /Vulcans don't show emotion, Adun? Are you certain?/ she sent over their bond.

/Quite./

"Sarek, it will be fine. You said she just wants to talk to us. I'm quite interested to hear what she has to say."



# # #

T'Kal T'Ryll greeted them at the door, "Come in, come in. Right on time." She had a pot tea and some Kreyla biscuits set out on the table. Sarek and Amanda sat in the two chairs T'Kal had placed opposite her seat and she regarded them with a wry grin. "I guess it's best if I pour." She poured them each a cup of tea, took a long sip of hers and said, "A baby, is it?"

 "Yes," Amanda beamed. "It's possible, isn't it?"

"Absolutely, and the time now is perfect for trying." She clicked through her big PADD and entered Amanda and Sarek's names and the date. "Now, let us begin. I have provided Osu Sarek with a compound of herbs that will be beneficial to him at this time. Have thee started taking the mixture as I suggested?"

"Yes." Sarek replied. "You told me to."

"Very good. Now the biggest obstacle thee face is negative thought, Osu Sarek. The mind is one's most powerful tool. Surak taught us how we can channel our thoughts and intentions to achieve what we would otherwise not. Incorporate into thee meditations contemplation of completion of this event." She turned to Amanda and said, "this is where you need to take an active role, Osa Amanda. As Aduna, you must guide your Adun in the creation of a child."

Amanda looked at Sarek, his face showed no emotion, but she could tell by the way he fidgeted with the tea cup that he was uncomfortable discussing this subject with anyone. He had been reluctant to discuss it even with her, reminding her that Vulcans never speak openly of such things. "I'm willing to do whatever is necessary," she said.

 "I knew thee would be. I believe that biology is no impediment to the conception of a child. Though there are those who would condemn thee for trying to combine Human and Vulcan. Do not fear them. It is thee destiny to bring forth this child, this son of Vulcan," T'Kal said.

"Son?" Amanda asked quietly.

"The child will be male."


Sarek pushed himself out of the chair. His control had never been as perfect as he wanted and T'Kal's brash assertion rocked him, "How do you know this, T'Kal?" He pounded his fist into his other hand. "How can you speak with such conviction?"

"Sarek, please." Amanda was shocked by his outburst. This was rapidly becoming a sensitive subject and one she knew might be best discussed between her and T'Kal alone. Despite the strides Sarek had made in expressing his feelings to her, he was still very much a Vulcan, the ambassador, a direct descendant of Surak, and he had to maintain his privacy.

"Osu, I know this is the truth." T'Kal stated. "It is in the stars. It is what will come to pass. It is just as thee are one."

"Sarek, please leave T'Kal and I to discuss this. It is more of a discussion for women," Amanda said. /Please Adun/

He looked at his wife and nodded. "Yes, perhaps I should." He placed his hand lightly on Amanda's shoulder and she knew that he was relieved to be out of the limelight, so to speak. He looked across to T'kal and then back at Amanda. "Long life to you, T'Kal."

Once Sarek left, T'Kal and Amanda settled into their talk. T'Kal assuring Amanda that, as far as she could divine the conception would be accomplished easily and would definitely be a male.

"I was hoping you would say that, T'Kal. I do think Sarek would prefer a son.

"There is one thing I wish to make clear to thee, Osa Amanda, and I have not discussed it with another." T'Kal's expression turned serious and she walked to the big bookcase. "This child will face many challenges. His dual heritage will be cause for both ostracism and praise. But, he will embody all that is the best of Vulcan and Terra, of this be certain. He will have the Gift."

"The Gift?"

"Yes. I can't tell yet what form it will take. It's too soon to know. I suppose thee will say it is a by-product of the union. Still, it's not easily explained, but when two souls from different worlds meet, as yours and Sarek's have, something miraculous occurs, not only in terms of bonding, but in physiology, too.

"The Gift. What forms can it take, T'Kal?" Amanda's shock was evident. She had never thought about something like this or known that it was even possible. Although she knew Vulcans were touch telepaths and some had very strong ability, she had never had an inkling that anything else was possible or existed.

"Strong psi ability, second sight is very common. Languages may come easier, the ability to read other species. Your two worlds are inseparable now." T'Kal handed a small PADD over to Amanda. "I think it best if you read this. It can explain many things to you."

Amanda accepted the Padd  "T'Kal, I thought I knew a lot, but I guess I really don't."

"Thee do. But, I still think thee are going to have to help Osu Sarek in this. The compound I have provided will help, too." T'Kal smiled, "It has been used for centuries to promote fecundity on Vulcan. Not that Osu is infertile, but a bit of bolstering is needed," she stated.

Amanda was a bit dumbfounded. The previous visit to T'Kal had been just as surreal as today's visit. If someone had told Amanda two years ago that she would be contemplating the very real possibility of conceiving the child of the Vulcan ambassador to Earth, she would have told them, in no uncertain terms, to have their head examined. Yet that was exactly what she was contemplating. And the thought thrilled her as nothing had for a long time. She loved Sarek more than she had ever loved anyone. Fate's design had brought them together and they would remain that way for all eternity. She knew in her heart it was right. Having a child with Sarek was right, too.

"Osa, I am sure that's all I have to tell thee. If thee have questions, thee know where to find me."

"Yes, T'Kal," Amanda nodded and reached for the woman's hand. "Thank you so much, for everything."

"It is my honor to assist.

# # #

"I liked what T'Kal T'Ryll had to say, Sarek," Amanda when she returned to their private apartment.

 "She is a most unusual woman."

"Yes, she is. But, she seems so certain and…well…Sarek, I am too. I am sure about having a baby with you." Her voice was even and steady as she spoke, and in that moment Sarek could feel his heart pounding in his side.  He was emboldened by her words and felt for the first time since they had begun discussing the possibility of having a baby that it was actually going to happen.

"Come, K'diwa, let us retire….and make a baby."

Amanda smiled up and him and pressed her lips to his. "Might not happen on the first try, my darling."

"Then…we shall just have to redouble our efforts." Sarek took her by the hand and led her to their bedroom. "Vulcans are very persistent beings."

The night closed in around the pair and they embarked on what was sure to be the journey of their lives together.

Day 15 of Advent

Walk the Line

Author: igrockspock
Pairing: Amanda/Sarek
Rating: PG
Summary: For her, he walks the line between love and logic. Sometimes he's not very good at it.
Notes: for fringedweller, who betaed my ladies1st story on short notice


On their first Christmas together, Amanda receives a toaster, earmuffs, and several pairs of socks. She surveys her husband crossly over a small pile of torn red wrapping paper, which she thinks uncharitably was probably the cheapest in the store.

"Wife, you are not pleased with your gifts?"

Amanda allows her silence to speak for her.

"The toaster has been broken for six months, causing you the unnecessary inconvenience of toasting bread in the broiler. This in turn causes excessive difficulty with punctuality which has attracted your employer's attention. "

Amanda finds her silence very eloquent.

"You frequently remark on the coldness of your ears yet you fail to buy adequate protective coverings."

Amanda shifts a little in her corner of the sofa and tries to surreptitiously study the points of his ears. He would worry about people who don't keep their ears warm. But she isn't ready to be charmed yet.

"Your socks are discolored, and your toes frequently protrude from holes which you do not repair."

Amanda narrows her eyes, her good humor vanishing instantly. Her husband wants her to darn her socks? Sarek shifts away from her slightly, and Amanda imagines she must look rather dangerous.

"At any rate, since you have failed to make these logical purchases, I deemed it prudent to offer them as gifts. You have often helped me to make logical decisions in my own life, and I wished to return the service."

It is true; she has spent hours late at night with Sarek, discussing the teachings of Surak, working through how they might be applied to professional and ethical dilemmas that seemed trivial to her. But it's not a service; it's love, and she hates him a little for not understanding that. She holds her silence.

Sarek glances meaningfully at the wall clock, more for her benefit than his. He already knows what time it is; he always does. He's reminding her that it's time for him to go to work because the Vulcan Embassy cannot close for holidays celebrated in only certain Terran cultural spheres, and because now that they are married, he has to prove that he is Vulcan by ignoring inconvenient human customs. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one and all. She doesn't make him say it.

"I am aware that I have made an error, but I confess that I do not understand its nature. I hope you will instruct me further this evening." He steps out the door without waiting for an answer.

From any other man, it would have been sarcastic, a final parting shot before slamming the door. But Sarek really means it. He always means what he says; saying something he doesn't mean would be illogical. She hates him a little for it, or more accurately, hates him because she can't hate him for it. If he tried to hurt her, tried to be insensitive, then her anger would be justified. But how can she be angry with her husband for trying to bridge the vast chasm between their cultures and doing so imperfectly? How could she fault him for that when he'd already contravened every ruling of his family and his heritage to marry her? It wasn't fair for her to be angry with him when he had already done so much, but she is not Vulcan. She doesn't have his mastery of feelings and never will.

The door swings open again, emitting a cold blast of air. Sarek peers around the door frame but does not step inside. It would be illogical to bring snow into the house.

"Merry Christmas," he says over the howl of the wind.

"Thank you," she chokes out. Her mother and her friends will never understand how that one gesture is enough. To tell the truth, she isn't sure it's enough. But she knows what he gave up to make it, knows that he left for work at the last possible moment so that he could explain himself fully to her, knows that he will be late for work now -- maybe only by 2.8 or 4.7 minutes, but those are things that other Vulcans notice. They will know why he left for work without extra time to compensate for unexpected obstacles. They will think but not say that he made himself late for work to tell her that he loves her, and they will think less of him for it. And it will hurt him more -- even though he won't admit it -- because they are right about the sentiment even if they are wrong about the exact words that came out of his mouth.

She had intended to throw a shoe at the door after he left the first time, and she still wants to a little bit. But she supposes she can repay her husband's patience with a bit of her own, so she picks up a padd instead. Suitable Gifts for Wives Who Care about Love More Than Logic, she writes at the top of the screen. If he does not understand, she will explain. And she will do it over and over again, because no matter how many hundreds or thousands of things Sarek does not understand about humanity, love is the one thing he gets. Even if he will never say the word.

Day 16 of Advent

Solstice Tradition

By Saidicam

Amanda pulled the collar of her down jacket tighter around her neck, smiling inconspicuously into her gloved hand as she did so.  Clearing her throat, she judiciously stared through the falling flakes at the tree-filled field down below.  "Are you wearing that get-up for looks, or are you actually planning to come outside?"

The French-style patio poor behind her cracked open.  "Neither.  I am perpetually cold in this…tundra, and my room's climate control is dysfunctioning, therefore my attire is quite logical."

Amanda sighed as she heard the determined click of the door reclosing.  "It's not, Sarek," she said quietly, perfectly aware that his sensitive alien hearing would detect her words.  "I checked the thermostat when I got here.  It's precisely 21.1 degrees Celsius in your suite."  She turned to watch the dark figure behind the frosted glass.  "And this isn't a tundra.  It's a continental climate."

The door inched open slightly.  "I am aware.  I was attempting to employ the human metaphor."  He frowned slightly.  "And it is malfunctioning, Amanda.  It read 18.3 degrees initially upon my arrival, but despite my repeated attempts to increase the heat to a more reasonable 30 degrees it will not rise above 22.2."  The door clicked shut.

"It probably has a governor on it."  She didn't need Vulcan ears to know by the haughty tilt of his head what word passed his lips.  She leaned forward and pulled the door wide open, ignoring his indignant glare.  "Come on.  You're going to miss it."

"There are no activities occurring this evening for which my presence is required."  He reached out and grasped the door handle.  "And I do not want to," he said peevishly, closing the door firmly.

She opened the door again, stepping forward to prevent it from closing.  "You are here to promote Vulcan culture and tolerance between our worlds, Ambassador.  How dare you preach acceptance for your traditions but turn your nose at the revered human tradition of the Christmas tree lighting?"

"At least my nose still remains its natural color, Ms. Grayson."  He pulled his hood over his wool-capped head.  "Besides, you are my assistant.  Attend yourself since you deem it so important, and then supply me with the pertinent information."

She shook her head.  "It's something that needs to be experienced, first hand."  She turned away and went back to the balcony railing.  Expecting the door to click shut, she glanced back in surprise at the hesitant crunch of the Vulcan's first foray onto the snow covered balcony.

"You are certain?" he asked.

"Absolutely."

He closed the door and stepped up to the railing to peer down at the scene below.  "What is the significance of illuminating vegetation during the winter festivals?  To assist travelers in finding their way home for the religious celebrations?"

"No.  Cutting down a tree to bring into the home, or decorating the home with boughs of a tree, was a tradition for several cultures long before Christianity started doing it.  The tradition of bringing in a tree and decorating it with lights is credited to early 17th century Germans, who began to decorate trees with fruits and papers to celebrate Christmas, and eventually lighted candles.  It slowly began to spread across Europe as a Christmas tradition rather than the original winter solstice tradition, and eventually into America, but not for a couple more centuries."

A gust of wind tossed the loose snow around them.  Amanda grimaced in empathy when Sarek stiffened and covered his face as best he could against the onslaught.

"Fire on dead wood, with no intention to ignite said wood, is rather--"

"Yes," she cut him off.  "It sure is.  It wasn't until about the late 1800's that electric lights began to replace candles."

"You still have not stated the purpose of putting lights on trees."

"Purpose?" Amanda's nose scrunched in consideration.  "There's no real purpose.  It appeals to us...it's pretty."  She opened the balcony door and slipped in just enough to turn all the lights off then returned to his side to wait.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"It's better this way," she assured him.  "They'll be doing it soon; it's dark now."

"One would hope."  He rubbed his gloved hand briskly across his nose to warm it.

"Bet you'll be glad to be back on Vulcan in a few weeks, especially after this."

"Indeed," he murmured thoughtfully.  "You still intend to accompany us to Vulcan while we attend council sessions?"

"Yes, Sarek," she droned bemusedly.

"You are certain?" he asked, turning toward her.

"Absolutely.  You know…you've asked me that at least three times this month alone.  If you were human I might think you're hoping I won't go."

"On the contrary, I simply was checking whether you've employed the inherit right of all Y chromosome-deficit beings on this planet to 'change her mind'."

"I have not," she laughed.  "I'm looking forward to seeing your planet."

"I am…anticipating your...perception of Vulcan, Amanda.  I--"  Sarek turned away as the field became flooded with thousands of tiny lights outlining each tree below.  He heard Amanda's excited gasp and the applause and cries of approval from neighboring rooms.  He eyed the spectacle objectively.  "Seems an extravagant waste of resources, does it not?"

"It's beautiful," Amanda crooned breathlessly, drawing Sarek's attention.

He stared, mesmerized by the child-like pleasure that adorned her face.  So unlike anything any of his people over the age of two would express.  Something that should offend, should disgust…and yet he was enchanted by her ways.  He turned toward her and pulled her toward him, looking into the virtual star-field that seemed to reflect back from her eyes.  "Indeed," he murmured, falling into deep space until his lips fell softly upon hers.

She pulled back slightly, her confusion clouding her optic sky.  "Sarek?"

"Mistletoe," he rasped.  "Lining the eave above us.  You explained the tradition to me earlier, if you recall."

Amanda glanced up briefly.  "Oh…that's not mistletoe, just garland."

Sarek leaned closer, gently brushing his gloved finger across her cheek.  "You are certain?"

Amanda hesitated, mouth open in mid-response.  She closed it promptly.  "Well... I'm not a botanist..."  She smiled at Sarek's approving nod.

Day 17 of Advent

No Problem

Author:  mzsnaz
Rated:  G
Characters:  Sarek, Amanda, young Spock
Summary:  Young Spock's disobedience is not quite what it appears.


    "It is time."

    Amanda watched, impatiently tapping her foot, as her toddler son slowly pushed himself up from where he'd been intently examining the cobblestone pavement.  He frowned, bottom lip protruding slightly, gazing at her with a wide-eyed stare.

    "No," he plainly said, one chubby index finger pointing up.

    Amanda started, surprised at her son's negative reply.  An incredibly polite child, she found it hard to believe that he would take this opportunity – in front of their estate – in fact, in front of several Vulcans – to argue with her.  She could sense the Vulcans not quite turn in her direction as she squatted down to eye level with Spock.

    "You must not have heard me," she quietly said, barely above a whisper, "I said it is time."

    "No."  Again, the child pointed up.  She looked up at the darkening sky, but did not see anything out of the ordinary.  This is not the time, she thought, hoping her dismay would transfer to her son; however, he now seemed completely focused at something directly over her shoulder.  Cutting her eyes to the side, she immediately recognized the  blue material that barely missed brushing against her arm.

    "My wife, why are you and our son in the street?" Sarek asked, his deep baritone echoing slightly against the high walls of their estate.

    "We were returning from visiting your brother and his wife," Amanda replied, rising to address her husband better.  She winced, her knees protesting her sudden movement.  "Your son decided he wanted to examine the color inconsistencies in the stones."

    "Indeed."  Sarek motioned for Spock.  "Let us enter the estate, sa-fu.  The stones are as dissimilar inside our gates as on the street.  You may examine them there."

    "No."

    Amanda gasped, her disbelief palpable.  Sarek's left eyebrow slowly ascended even as his eyes widening slightly at the defiant reply.  Before Sarek could speak, the child rose and ran to the gate.  He again pointed up at the sky.

    "No!" Spock screamed, frustration evident in his terse tone.

    "Sarek, I'm certain that…" Amanda began, but her husband's curt shake of his head ended her justification.

    "We shall enter the gates.  Now."

    Surprisingly, Spock appeared unfazed by his father's obvious displeasure.  He toddled into the courtyard, and despite Amanda's silent prayer, turned to his father, a wide grin on his elfin face.

    "No," he cheerfully stated, again pointing up to an invisible answer.  Amanda searched the sky, hoping for an explanation while Sarek frowned at his suddenly elated son.

    "We shall speak of this lack of deference inside," he slowly intoned, watching his son attempt to skip to the door.  Spock nearly toppled to the ground several times, but then turned back to his parents, his pleasure still evident.

    "No, no, no," the boy sang, both hands raised in the air.  Something in his motion caused Amanda to force back a smile.  He seemed absolutely jubilant, but it just wasn't proper.

    "I really don't think he knows what he's saying," Amanda softly said, entering the darkened foyer, knowing Sarek would accuse her of defending their unruly son.  She was in for another surprise when her husband slowly nodded.

    "You are correct," Sarek said.  He knelt down and drew Spock to him.  The boy bit his bottom lip to end the errant grin, instead settling for a look of smug satisfaction that caused Amanda to bite her own bottom lip to hold back a laugh.

    "Sa-fu, what are you saying?" Sarek calmly asked the child.  Spock's look changed to a quite serious frown.

    "No."  Again, he raised his hand.  Sarek quickly, but gently, grasped the child's arm.

    "What is this?" the father asked.  Spock's frown deepened.  With an exaggerated sigh, the boy stood on his toes, reaching as high as he could.

    "No!" he said, frustrated and on the verge of tears.  Amanda willed herself not to interfere, knowing that Sarek only wanted to comprehend what they both wanted to know – what was their child saying?

    "No," Spock repeated, his voice a mere whimper.  Sarek released his arm and the child stood in the foyer, glaring at the floor.  For several minutes, nothing was said.  Finally, Sarek cleared his throat, causing Spock to look up.

    "Glow?" Sarek asked.  "Are you noticing the glow of the stars?"  Amanda immediately understood what her husband was doing.

    "Blow?" she asked.  Spock wrinkled his nose, shaking his head at what he thought was an implied request to clear his nasal passages.

    "Show?  Flow?"  Again, nothing.

    Amanda and Sarek ushered their son into the main room of the estate.  Suddenly, Spock ran over to the comm unit and pointed.

    "No!" he shouted, scowling at his seemingly dim-witted parents.

    "My wife," Sarek said, ignoring the increasingly comical facial expressions of his son, "Did you receive any correspondence today that might shed light on our son's preoccupation with the word `no'?"

    "I don't believe so," she replied, thinking back on the day.  "I only received a quick message from Matt telling me that he would be…"  She stopped.  Her brother, Matt, wasn't the joker of the family – that honor belonged to Dan.  Still, he had said something rather innocuous that now struck her like a lightning bolt.

    "Spock," Amanda said, motioning for the child to join her.  He stood in front of her, his bright eyes carefully watching her every move.  "Spock, did you hear Uncle Matt say that he would send us snow?"  Early that morning, Amanda had just entered the house from the garden with Spock when the call had come.  Matt had teased her about looking rather wilted from the Vulcan heat and he'd said that he would send some relief in the form of snow.

    "No," Spock said, nodding his head in such an enthusiastic way that his hair seemed to stand on end.  "No."

    "Oh, Spock," Amanda said, hoping to quell his disappointment, "Uncle Matt was only joking.  It isn't going to snow here.  This isn't Earth."

    "Amanda?"

    She looked over at Sarek, who had moved to one of the front windows.  The heat shields had lowered and the outside was only blocked by a thin veil of sheer curtains.  In the warm glow of the evening light, a light veil of tiny specks appeared to be dancing high in the sky, barely visible from their window.  It could have been fireflies or another type of insect, Amanda thought, if there were such types on Vulcan.

    "What is that, my husband?" she murmured, not quite trusting her first instinct.  Spock forced his way in between his parents and gawked at the sight.

    "No!" the child squealed, running to the front entrance.  He opened the door (something his mother didn't know he could do so easily) and reentered the courtyard, his parents close behind.

    "Sarek, is that really…"  Amanda couldn't quite believe what she was seeing.  Nothing was hitting the ground, but just a few meters above their heads, something that appeared to be snow fell silently toward the trio.  Spock stretched his arms as far as he could toward the sky and began to chortle.

    "No, no, no," he said, stifling a giggle as he spied his father.  "No?" Spock solemnly intoned, his dark eyes brightly lit with excitement.

    Amanda watched Sarek open his mouth to say something, but then, much to her surprise, he reconsidered.  "The effect does appear to be like snow," he stated, and Spock spun around, nearly giddy from excitement.

    "NO!  NO!  NO!" he shouted.  Amanda smiled at his enthusiasm even as she realized that the `snow' was most likely ash from recent volcanic activity some distance from their estate.

    "Uncle Matt did send snow after all," she said, her smile growing at Sarek's disquiet and Spock's delighted nod.  Amanda tried to get her excited son to correctly pronounce the word, and finally he managed a respectable `sa - na –oh'.

    "It would be best not to humor the child with a lie," her husband stated softly, just out of earshot of their son who was attempting to jump up and greet the distant `snow'.  Amanda shrugged.

    "Of course not; but does it really hurt to keep the illusion alive until our son is older?  What are the odds of another eruption at just this time of year?"

    Sarek said nothing.  Amanda had insisted that Spock learn about both Vulcan and Human traditions, and as illogical as some of the Human ones were, Sarek had agreed.  "The Holiday Season", as Amanda had referred to it, was upon them, and he had allowed the estate to be decorated in a fashion that Amanda deemed `festive'.  It wasn't disruptive to the household, it was temporary, and it pleased his wife.  Still, Sarek considered the pretense of snow on Vulcan, or more particularly in their region of Vulcan, to be illogical.  What was currently falling simply wasn't snow.

    "Spock, let's go into the house and prepare a message for Uncle Matt.  We'll thank him for the snow," Amanda said, smiling back at her dismayed husband while she led their son into the house.  Sarek allowed an exasperated sigh.  Before entering the estate, he noticed the ash was just beginning to reach the ground.  While he expected the fine particles to ingrain themselves into every crevasse and become nearly impossible to remove, the ash instead disappeared into the cobblestone walkway.  Frowning, the Vulcan reached out his hand to catch some of the errant ash.  As it hit his hand, his eyes widened.

    The `ash' melted away, leaving a trace of cool water against his skin.  Blinking back his surprise, Sarek momentarily thought to retrieve his wife and child from the house; however, Spock already knew that he'd seen snow.  A myriad of possible meteorological explanations filled his mind – certainly it wasn't out of the realm of possibility for snow on Vulcan; however, it wasn't even the coolest part of the year and their location wasn't one used to such an event.  Perhaps, while their child slept, he and Amanda would return to the courtyard to take pleasure in the implausible occurrence.  It might be years - or never - before the phenomenon happened again.  As he considered his life with Amanda and Spock, Sarek thought it wise to celebrate the rare and cherished events that had presented themselves to him.

    It would be a most memorable evening.

Day 18 of Advent

Reflections on Memories

Author: T'Sia
Rating: G (K)
Summary: Sad and happy Christmas for Amanda.
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine.
Author's note: Written for the Sarek & Amanda Advent Calendar 2011, Entry: December, 18th. This story ties in with my earlier story 'Reflections'(can be found in the Sarek & Amanda archives), but you don't have to read 'Reflections' to understand this story.

~*~

The wind howled outside, causing the branches of the tall pine tree to scratch against the walls and roof of the small house. She went over to the window and held the curtain aside to watch the impressive tree sway in the wind. When she had been here the last time this tree had not been more than a sapling, ready to grow tall. Like her son... A wave of grief threatened to overcome her and her thoughts moved on quickly so as not to be pulled down into the abyss of pain so well known to her by now.

Had it really been over fifty hears? Yes, it had. Her memory was not as good as that of her husband and his people, but it was good enough to make her remember. She and Spock had been here for a Christmas visit. His first – and last Christmas celebration, because shortly after her parents had died in a flitter accident. Her brother had never understood her love for Sarek or her moving away from Earth. They had barely spoken over the last five decades and when he had moved into the house with his family she knew it was probably the last she would see of it. Probably... Were it not for the tragic circumstances that had re-united her family this year.

She watched the thick snowflakes fall for a while longer, then she returned to the couch where she had been sitting before. It was the middle of the night and the house was quiet. She liked it like that and she couldn't sleep anyway. Not with so much at stake... her thoughts wandered dangerously close to the events of the last weeks. It seemed unfair to her to remain on Earth while Sarek exhausted the last of his mental and, yes, emotional resources to give their son his life back, but due to the fragile control on her emotions she was not permitted near either of them at this time. It was difficult for her to grasp that she could possibly do anything to endanger the success of the ritual, but she'd do anything they asked to make it work. So she stayed on Earth while Sarek returned to Vulcan alone, even though she felt like breaking apart under the emotional pressure of having her son ripped from her, just to be faced with the opportunity to get him back.

A low clicking sound disturbed her thoughts and she looked up from where she had been nervously kneading her hands in her lap to see the room was alight with the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights. She smiled softly, just like back then, so long ago, when she had gotten up in the middle of the night to find four year old Spock watching the tree in awe. The ornaments had not changed much during the years, although she spotted a new item here and there, certainly the craftsmanship of her brother's children and grandchildren. The most significant difference was the rotating socket the tree was resting in. Even though the technical upgrade set the image apart from her memories she had to admit the sight of the slowly turning tree was pleasant, the sparkle of the ornaments increased by the gentle motion. The couch she sat on was not the same, but it stood in the same place as the old one, so she had a good view on the tree. She reached for the blanket beside her and lifted her legs onto the couch, making herself comfortable. Just as she had settled in to watch the tree, a small sound startled her. She turned her head and saw two big brown eyes peering at her through the wooden posts of the stair rail. She almost gasped in sudden recognition, but in the blink of an eye she realized her error. It was not Spock, crouching on the stairs with a teddy bear clutched in his arm, but her brother's youngest grandchild. She wiped the shock from her face and smiled at the boy. “Hi Nathan. What are you doing up so late?“

The little boy got up and padded down the last steps and reluctantly approached the open doorway, then he hesitated just beyond the threshold. “Aunt Amanda, is Santa there?“ he whispered.

Amanda looked pointedly around the room. “No, Nathan. I think he's running a little late because of the storm.“

The boy's expression fell. “I thought I heard noises.“

'Ah, the pine branches scratching on the roof', she thought. “So you came down to surprise him?“ she asked aloud and received a nod.

“Do you think he can make it through the storm?“

Amanda nodded. “I have no doubt.“

“But what if the reindeer can't see through the snow? My dad says you have to wear goggles in a snow storm so you can see.“

Amanda turned her head away slightly and suppressed a chuckle when the image of snow blind reindeer with goggles fluttered through her mind. “I'm sure they can manage,“ she said softly. “But just to make sure we could open the curtains so they can see the light in the house. What do you think?“

Nathan nodded enthusiastically and she got up – not as easily as she would have liked – and pulled the curtains from the window. Outside the wind still blew snow against the windows and the old wood sighed softly under the pressure. “There, now they can't miss us,“ she said.

“Can I wait up until he comes?“ Nathan asked.

Amanda hesitated, but her decision was made quickly when she saw the boy was already rubbing his eyes. He would not withstand the pull for sleep for long now – enough time for Arthur to get up early in the morning and place the presents. She nodded and led the boy to the couch where she reseated herself and Nathan settled beside her under the blanket. She stroked softly over the boy's hair that was as dark a shade of black-brown as Spock's had been. It was not as straight, but close enough to be a painful reminder of the time she had sat here with her son and watched the tree. Just like the boy could not resist the pull of sleep she could not withstand the pull of her memories and when his head got heavy and he leaned against her she succumbed to her own feelings and let her mind wander.

When they sat here all these years ago she had marveled about Spock's future. She had been concerned that his character would be subdued under the Vulcan controls. Part of it had, yes, but nevertheless he remained more her son than she could have imagined. His eyes, so dark and sad sometimes, were as much windows to her soul as they were to his.

Today she should be much more afraid for his soul than she had been back then. Who would he be? What would he remember? Would she still see herself reflected in his eyes? Back then she found comfort in the thought that no matter how strict he'd apply the Vulcan controls she'd always have that moment with him. He would always remember, always until.... death. A painful twinge caused her chest to tighten.

He had died.

The fact was as unreal to her now as it had been the day Sarek told her. She had refused to believe it, refused to accept it. How could she? She did not even have his body to mourn and bury. She was devastated when Sarek went to claim Spock's body and they learned he had been buried in space. As much as she understood why Kirk gave him a grave in space she hated the thought. Maybe she was selfish. Spock had been at home in space. It was there that he found the respect and friendships he deserved. It was a fitting resting place. Considering the way he had died it was probably the best she did not have to lay eyes on the destruction the high radiation had caused. But she was his mother. The thought of never again seeing her beloved child, even in that devastated state, drove a knife of pain through her so forcefully that she could not breathe.

Yet, there had been hope for Spock's katra, to preserve the essence of his mind, even though most of his personality would probably be lost forever. She would not be able to communicate with him, but it gave her a measure of comfort that he would not be lost completely.

Then everything had happened in a rush, almost too fast for her to grasp. Sarek had gone to see Kirk in order to retrieve Spock's katra and learned that not Kirk carried it, but Dr. McCoy who was suffering from the ill effects of a merging attempt of his mind with a Vulcan katra. Simultaneously a federation science vessel that was sent out to examine the new planet Genesis had found Spock's body – alive!

She did not know much about the events that transpired thereafter, but she understood that the crew sacrificed their careers to retrieve the body from Genesis. All of this was secret knowledge that she gained from Sarek. She felt the mental pressure of another personal tragedy behind the scenes, but she did not press Sarek for information. Now they were all on Vulcan, performing the ancient ritual of fal-tor-pan – an attempt to refuse Spock's mind with his body. She ached to attend, but her failing emotional control would be disturbing to those closest to her. She had to take a backseat and wait – torn between hope, dread and doubt. Hope that the ritual would be a success, dread that it wouldn't and she would lose Spock all over and doubt that he would still be her son even if the refusion was successful.

The creaking on the stairs alerted her to another presence. Her eyes focused and she noticed with surprise that pale morning light shone through the window. She must have been sitting here for a long time, Nathan sleeping peacefully against her side. She turned her head and spotted her brother. He was wearing slippers and his old morning robe. A small mountain of colorfully wrapped gifts balanced haphazardly on his arms. She smiled softly while watching him making his way to the tree, oblivious to her presence. It pained her to realize how wrong it was that they did not speak to each other for so long. They were twins, they had always been so incredibly close. She had always regretted that her marriage and his refusal to accept her style of living had driven a wedge between them, but neither seemed to be able to convince the other to budge. Maybe, beside all the pain, there was also some good in the tragedy that had befallen her family after all. He had not hesitated for a second to take her in and support her during the time she could not support her son and husband.

He stopped in front of the tree and bend slightly to place the gifts on the floor and the bones in his back gave an audible crack.

“Ho ho ho, Santa. Getting old, hm?“ she whispered.

Arthur turned to her, startled, and one of the packages slid from his arms and hit the carpet with a soft thud. Both adults held their breath and waited to see if they had woken Nathan. But like all children he was blessed with deep and peaceful slumber. He did not even stir.

~*~

Three hours later, the gifts all unwrapped they went to church. Amanda had been reluctant to join them. She had not lived a religious life and she could not even remember the number of years that had gone by since she last set foot in a church to pray rather than sight seeing. Arthur had been adamant about not leaving her alone at home, though, and she had relented. It had been the better decision, she mused now that she sat in one of the front rows. The atmosphere of candles and the muted sounds of soft organ play soothed her in ways she had not thought possible. Perhaps it was the pleasant childhood memories of a time devoid of pain, fear and responsibility that the place evoked. She felt more at peace and the nervous kneading of her hands ceased for a while.

She looked up when motion at the entrance to the row caught her attention. It was Arthur who had excused himself a couple of minutes ago. She wanted to go with him, but he just shook his head and left. She felt for the link to Sarek, but knew he would not contact her until he knew she was in company of kin to support her physically and emotionally, whatever the news would be. Arthur held his eyes downcast as he approached and took his seat beside her. She tensed upon seeing this behavior, it did not bode well. She held her breath when he looked up at her and a wave of hope swept through her so strong that she was glad she was seated. Her brother's eyes shone with unshed tears, but his smile told her it were not tears of grief. He was happy for her. He took her hand gently and squeezed.

Then he leaned closely to her ear and whispered, “Sarek just called.“ He gave her a kiss on the cheek and looked at her, the old deep affection between them blooming back to life. “Merry Christmas, Amanda.“

It was all he needed to say.

THE END

Day 19 of Advent

Day 20 of Advent

Day 21 of Advent

Solstice Shok

Author: Mara (GratefullyDead on ff.net)
Fandom: Classic Trek
Characters Sarek / Amanda
Summary: Advent Calendar story – a story of the winter solstice.
Disclaimer: The characters are Paramount’s, not might. While the Solstice falls on 12/21 or 12/22, I don’t know the actual time this year and just made up the time in this story.  Second ever Sarek/Amanda story.
Pure fluff.

Solstice

During the eight months that she had been acquainted with Sarek, Vulcan’s ambassador to Earth, Amanda Grayson had attended a number of diplomatic functions revolving around some celebration or another. Some were Earth holidays, others marked important events for the Federation, and others observed alien holidays; religious and secular. All provided the host with the opportunity to one-up the other diplomats and species. While generally convivial, there was always jockeying for position in the latest debate, trade agreement, or covert operation.

Sarek, like all of the Vulcan delegation, attended because it was part of his job. He saw no logic in small talk, but often used an event to his advantage if he could place Vulcan in a superior bargaining position or further Vulcan’s agenda.

Amanda knew that what Vulcans found sociable was far different from what Humans or other species did. The social aspects of the events placed Sarek, to her eye, in an uncomfortable position; especially at events celebrating another species’ religious holiday. As Christmas was quickly approaching, she knew there would be at least two such events hosted by the Earth ambassador to the Federation and the Federation president. Sarek would attend because it was his duty to do so. He would ask Amanda to attend with him. She could provide valuable assistance to him and his aides in interacting with other Federation members.

 Amanda was actually looking forward to the holiday season for the first time in a couple of years; she had the chance to attend something other than a drunk-fest in someone’s cramped campus apartment, she had an excuse to buy a few new outfits, and she had a “date” she liked – a lot. She liked Sarek more than she thought she would, considering most humans found him to be aloof and dismissive in attitude. She knew they had connected on another level. There had been an almost immediate meeting of the minds between them and, for her part, a lot of it was because she found him especially handsome. She also found they shared the same high expectation of those they worked with. Amanda worked hard and expected her staff and students to do the same.

Sarek also expected his staff to keep pace with his schedule. Amanda found Sarek’s straightforwardness to be refreshing – she always knew what to expect from him. He expected quality work and so did she. Eventually, an excellent working relationship lead the way to a more personal one. It had started with a few working dinners, then to a few private meals, and Sarek asked her to attend the Andorian ambassador’s annual Kumari celebration. He must have been impressed by her abilities because she had been invited to every diplomatic event since.

It was during these social events that she and Sarek had begun to establish a more personal relationship. They began spending more and more time alone and Amanda found that Sarek was witty and affable when he was not acting in his official capacity. She began to see him as a friend. When he had shown her the ozh’esta she knew their relationship had changed forever. Amanda delighted in showing Sarek how humans kissed. He was a quick learner. Their relationship, she felt comfortable using that word to describe the situation, was taking a more romantic twist, especially since the way Sarek had kissed her after dinner last night. It had been a wonderful, lingering kiss that sent tingles down her spine. When he had finally said good night, his eyes held a wistful look she had never seen before.

Her communications unit chimed drawing her out of her reverie. It was, as she suspected, Sarek. “Good morning, Sarek,” she said when she saw his face appear on the screen.

“Good morning, Amanda. I have received invitations to the Christmas celebrations of President Darshan and Ambassador Foley. I would be honored if you would attend with me. I have sent you the relevant information.”

“Of course, Sarek, I would be happy to attend with you,” she replied while checking her e-mail for the forwarded invitations. She uploaded the dates to her calendar.

“I thank you.”

“I have an invitation to extend to you,” she said.

“Indeed? What is that?”

“Would you come to a small celebration at my home on December 21?” Amanda asked. She saw Sarek’s eyes move as he checked his own calendar.

“I am free that evening. I accept your invitation.”

“I will send you the relevant information,” she said with a smile.

“I will speak with you later,” Sarek said, “Senn has reminded me that I have a meeting with the Trill Pro-counsel. Long life, Dr. Grayson.” His sudden formality meant that Senn had entered his office.

“Good bye, Mr. Ambassador.”

******

It was late in the evening when Sarek was able to review the e-communications he had received while in conference with the Trill Pro-counsel. Many related to the commissioning of a new Oberth class science vessel. Special interest groups always wanted to have their projects researched on the Federation’s credits and the list for the yet-to-be-commissioned starship was long. As he whittled down the contents of his in-box he finally found the invitation from Amanda.

Amanda Grayson requests the pleasure of your company for cocktails and dinner on December 21, 2229, beginning at eight o’clock p.m.

Casual Dress.

960 Geary Boulevard, San Francisco.

Sarek input the comm. code for Amanda’s house. “Good evening, Amanda,” he said when she answered.

“Hello, Sarek. How was your day?”

“I think the word you would use is tedious,” he said.

Amanda could tell that he was alone, and based on the time she was pretty sure nearly all the staff was gone for the day. “Tedious…sorry to hear that.” She made a frowny face at him.

“Indeed. And, was your day productive?”

“Very. The Kepler test went remarkably well. I only wish all the other languages were as easy to upload to the Translator.” She smiled.

“I believe congratulations are in order.” Sarek replied, with the barest hint of a smile. “I am anticipating your dinner party.”

“Me, too. It will be very small, not many people. Very casual. Although I know you will come more formally attired than necessary.”

“Perhaps,” Sarek admitted.

“It’s still early, if you haven’t eaten, you could drop by.”

“Unfortunately, I must review the annual budget for the embassy and reply to the Vulcan High Council. It has been put off for too long.”  Budgets and finance were the worst part of Sarek’s job. “Could we meet for the morning meal?”

Amanda smiled, “I would love to. Mocha Joe’s Café – 06:30?”

“Precisely the time and place I had in mind.”

******

By the 21st Amanda was worn out and looking forward to the having the next two weeks off. The Federation Council was on its annual winter recess, the Academy was on break, and many other associated entities took the time around the traditional Christmas holiday and the Terran New Year off. She might do some work from home on the Universal Translator, but she wouldn’t go into the office. She could finally catch up on some mundane chores and get to bed early and sleep late! Last night’s gala at President Darshan’s home had been the final diplomatic chore of the season. Off world ambassadors spent the recess travelling to their home planets if they could, and calm descended on the city.

She was making the final preparations for her dinner with Sarek and he still didn’t know he was the only guest. She hoped to have an evening of his undivided attention. To that end, she had asked Senn to please refrain from contacting Sarek unless it was an absolute emergency; “like someone’s arm is cut off or the embassy is on fire,” she’d told him. Senn had agreed and she hoped her definition of emergent was the same as his.

Precisely at eight o’clock her door chime rang. Vulcans if nothing else were punctual. Amanda opened the door and admitted Sarek. “Right on time, as always,” she said.

“It would be illogical to arrive late when the invitation specified eight o’clock,” he replied.

“I can’t argue with that,” she said. “You look very handsome this evening.”

“I have been described as handsome on prior occasions, as well.”

‘Who said Vulcans didn’t have a sense of humor or were modest?’  she thought. “Yes, you have.”

“Who else have you invited?”

“No one. I told you it was a small party.” She walked to the kitchen and Sarek followed. She handed him a glass of wine. “After the last couple of weeks, I hoped we could have a quiet evening together.”

Sarek accepted the glass, “A quiet evening would be acceptable.” He took a sip of the wine and continued, “the winter recess is always welcome.”

“It certainly is.” Amanda stepped closer to him, “and it would be a shame to let today pass without a celebration.”

“What are we celebrating?” Sarek asked.

“The Winter Solstice, of course. After all the Christmas celebrations I thought it would be nice to celebrate a real astronomical event.”

“A very short astronomical event.”

“It doesn’t matter. Besides, it marks the start of longer days and the approach of warmer weather. Which we both like more than these cold dreary days.”

“I admit that I prefer more sunlight and warmer temperatures.”

Amanda placed her hand on his chest and said, “Happy Solstice.” She placed a soft kiss on his lips.

Sarek cocked an eyebrow at her, “Interesting. My research of this astronomical event never revealed that it was celebrated by such actions.”

“Your research has been sorely lacking then, Sarek,” Amanda said. “We can investigate that further, but dinner is ready. Shall we eat?”

They enjoyed a leisurely dinner. Year end was always busy for them both and the stress was beginning to take a toll. It was nice to have time to actually take one’s time. They discussed their end-of-year work – Amanda updated Sarek on the Universal Translator project; he gave her a rundown of all the proposed experiments that awaited the new science vessel when it was commissioned. They agreed that it was a good time for a break. The New Year, however, would be upon them soon and it would be back to the grind.

“Oh, it’s nearly time.” Amanda set the dishes in the washing unit.

“Time?”

“For the solstice.” She checked the clock on the microwave unit, “the Earth’s northern axis will be furthest from the sun at exactly 9:42p.m.”

“I see. How did you determine this?”

“I thought everyone knew,” Amanda joked. “I looked it up on the Federation astronomy site. I thought that you, as an old astrophysicist, would have known.”

“I am forced to admit that I have become lax with regard to celestial happenings of late.” A slight smirk play across his lips, one that Amanda had come to know he used only when alone with her.

“Thankfully, I have not.” She refilled their wine glasses and they moved to the sofa. “Perfect viewing spot for the big event.” The picture window looked out on the city, the stars clearly visible since the moratorium on outdoor lighting began.

Sarek sipped on the wine, his eyes not cast on the skies but on the countenance of his companion. She was beautiful, smart, and alluring. As un-Vulcan as it was, he was drawn to her and no matter how he tried to restrain his emotional response to her, he never completely succeeded.

“There, it just happened,” Amanda said as the time arrived and passed in a second.

“Interesting,” Sarek said, his voice low. His hand went to hers and he pulled her closer to him.  

Their lips met in a soft but stirring kiss, then another. Emboldened by his forthrightness, Amanda took it a step further and gently teased his lips apart. When Sarek felt her tongue against his he had to concentrate on increasing his biocontrols to stop his body from reacting, and reacting with intensity. He moved to lean away from her, but she pulled him against her. Amanda slid her arms around his neck, letting her fingers smooth through the hair at the back of his neck. When her thumbs caressed the edges of his ears, Sarek’s control crumbled and his body did react.  He knew Amanda could feel his lapse, yet he did not engage his strict controls immediately, but let the moment take him and they stayed surrounded in their haze a bit longer. It was only by mutual will power that the kiss ended.

“That’s nice,” Amanda said, both hands pressed against his chest.

“Quite,” was all Sarek replied.

She rested her head against his shoulder, kept one hand on his chest, and gazed out the widow. “The stars are so beautiful tonight. The sky is so clear.”

“Indeed, one can pinpoint 40 Eridani with the naked eye,” Sarek said.

They were silent for several moments. “Do you miss Vulcan?” Amanda asked, her voice soft, her question almost hesitant.

Sarek’s arm curled around Amanda’s shoulder pulling her ever so slightly closer to his body. “I find that Earth has many benefits not currently available on Vulcan.” He felt Amanda relax against his chest. “I am content to be here.”

“Me, too,” Amanda said.

They sat in companionable silence enjoying the view and the evening. Amanda’s thoughts were drawn to the words of Antoine de Saint-Exupery, ‘love does not consist of gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction.’ To her, it summed up this perfect evening and her heart knew that this was the start of something special.  She was tempted to say something, but she was too happy and comfortable to do so. She simply enjoyed the moment.

Day 22 of Advent

Author’s Note: This is adult story based on the words "snow" and "hesitant" requested by ejectthecore. For those who do not know me, English is not my native language, so the story probably has A FEW errors. Oh, and I've never written an adult story before...


A Helping Hand

by Vicky (VickyFromGreece at ff)


The scenery seemed so... insufferably white.

Yet, there was nothing else to do. Sarek suppressed a sigh and... continued to look outside the hovercar’s window.

And to think that two weeks ago this seemed such a logical idea, a visit to Amanda’s parents, to spent the Christmas festive season with them.

Next year they would be married and who knows in which part of the galaxy his job would take them. This year would probably be the last chance his ko-kugalsu had to spend the holidays with her family.

Leaving Amanda’s home five hours ago to return to San Francisco still seemed like a logical idea.

Now, sitting for 3.54 hours inside the immobile hovercar, trapped in the middle of a blizzard and waiting for a rescue team to arrive, the visit seemed like a completely illogical idea. And Sarek made a mental note to never, ever repeat it in case the weather forecast predicted such a violent snowstorm.

Beside him Amanda stirred and awoken; she had fallen asleep two hours ago.

“Did they find us yet?” she asked, yawning and stretching her arms.

“Not yet,” he replied. “And no vehicles have passed either. However based on our estimated arrival at the Embassy, I calculate that a rescue team will arrive within the next four hours, once the storm ends. Do not worry Amanda, soon we shall be rescued.”

“I’m not worried about me Sarek, I’m worried about you! I’m afraid that being trapped in all this snow is way out of your comfort zone. I’m sorry... this was my idea,” she said giving him a pleading look.

“Do not apologize. It is not your fault the vehicle’s engine broke down.”

“Yea, but... these are my places; I was born here so I kinda feel responsible if anything happens, you know?” She looked at him and smiled. Then she looked out of the car and said one of the most illogical things Sarek had ever heard in his entire life.

“Well, I have to go.”

“I do not understand. Where do you wish to go?”

“I have to go. Outside.”

“You are being illogical Amanda. You can not leave the vehicle.”

“Sarek,” she insisted, “I have to go!”

“You have to go where?” he asked again utterly confused.

“Nature’s calling. I really have to go.”

“Amanda, nobody is calling us. Whose voice-”

“I have to pee.”

Realization at last.

“I... see. Of course.” He looked at her uncertain as she exited the car in a hurry. “Return as quickly as you can!”

And she did, 47 seconds later. Sarek watched her in relief as she entered the vehicle. The fierce breeze of air that followed her chilled the blood in his veins, and he was unable to suppress a shiver.

“That must be one of the meanest storms I’ve ever seen!” Amanda exclaimed. “Burr, my butt froze.” Then she looked at him timidly.

“Sarek, we left my home hours ago.”

“Yes, Amanda, I am quite aware of that. My internal clock-”

“What I mean is...” she gave him a meaningful look and nodded.

“I am not certain what you mean,” he replied puzzled.

“Don’t you... have to go?” she asked, hesitant.

Lying of course was illogical. “I... have to go,” he admitted quite reluctantly. “But I can wait until they find us.”

“Err, why?”

“They are the rescue team. Surely they will have a facility-”

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Sarek this is Earth, not Vulcan! They’ll probably send you behind a bush.” She sighed. “Look, I understand that leaving the car will probably freeze you to death. Hmmm, I think I might have something with me...” she said, searching her bag.

“There it is!” Triumphantly Amanda held high a small plastic cup. “Here,” she said, offering it to Sarek.

“Why do you give me this cup?”

She coughed. “Well, you could... you know... pee in it and then throw it out of the window. All’s well that ends well,” she smiled.

He straightened his shoulders. “Absolutely not,” he replied in a cold voice.

“Sarek it’s not that I haven’t seen you naked! We’re engaged, we’ve had sex. You can pee in front of me. It’s something natural, I’m not offended.”

“Amanda, we might be engaged to marry, but there are some things I shall never, ever perform in your presence. The merely thought of that is... undignified.”

“But Sarek-”

“I am trained to control, Amanda. I can and shall wait.”

She puffed and rolled her eyes. This was heading for another major fight and she chose not to go any further. Two fights in less than a week were too much. “Suit yourself,” she growled, looking out of her window.

(After fifty-eight minutes the couple still awaits alone in the middle of a snowy nothingness.)

“The worst part of the storm seems to have passed,” Sarek observed, looking outside hesitantly. “I shall exit the car for a brief amount of time,” he announced in a formal way and put on his coat.

Amanda bit her lips so as not to laugh. “Okay. Please be careful, not to slip!”

Sarek nodded, took a deep breath, opened the door and exited quickly.

After twenty-nine seconds he opened the door and sat on the driver’s seat utterly unable to speak. His entire body was trembling.

“Oh, my poor dear!” Amanda exclaimed. “Are you okay?”

Trying to prevent the hostile cold from freezing his body to death, he merely nodded.

“Give me your hands! Your hands!” Amanda yelled and Sarek offered his trembling hands to her. They were so green!

“Rub them, rub them!” Amanda said and begun rubbing their hands together. This seemed to work and in a few minutes Sarek’s hands lost their greenish appearance.

“Better?” she smiled.

“Yes... Thank you,” he whispered not quite relieved yet.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he said in a way that did not convince her for a single second. He was such a lousy liar.

“Sarek, what is it?”

“Nothing I can not control, Amanda. Please do not ask me any further.”

“Oh, my God!” she yelled, realizing - exactly - what was wrong. “Your penis!”

“Amanda!”

“Take it out!” she demanded, reaching between his legs.

“Absolutely-Amanda, stop it!” Sarek sternly ordered and caught both her hands.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Her hands were so warm, that made their touch a pure delight. But this was wrong.

“We are not bonded yet. It is... undignified for a woman to serve a man that doesn’t belong to her.”

Amanda gave him her driest look. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“And as we are not bonded yet-”

“Right... After all we’ve only had sex in your office once. Every other time was in the bedroom. Oh! And let’s not forget that time in the shower where you took me right on-”

“My point is that we are not bonded yet,” Sarek replied coldly. “And I do not appreciate your irony. Now, please! Let me meditate and return my lok’s temperature back to normal.”

“Sarek, it’s chilly in here! And you’re already shaken by all this freezing cold!”

“I can control my body’s temperature. I only need a few minutes-”

“Which we don’t have! Sarek your lok’s well-being is of my utmost importance! Now, stop being such an illogical stubborn and give it to me!” Amanda almost barked. Forcefully her hands pushed his aside, found his fly and unzipped his pants.

“For Pete's sake!” Amanda said terrified. “You are frozen!” Gently she took him in her hands and begun stroking rhythmically.

Sarek closed his eyes and concentrated on her touch. Her hands on his lok were so soft... felt so warm... so right. He sighed with profound relief.

“Poor thing... It’s almost grayish!” Amanda murmured, commenting on his lok’s change of color and Sarek looked down. His lok, which usually had a light greenish appearance, now looked bottle green. Truth, it was an alarming sight. Even its size appeared shrunk.

But her hands... oh, her soft, delicate, warm hands... they ran up and down his shaft, bringing him back to life, transmitting warmth... and oh, such pleasure...

He sighed again. And this time his entire body’s temperature began to return back to normal.

“How’re your balls?” Amanda asked, caressing his testicles with one hand while the other continued stroking his lok.

“Cold,” he replied with a small tone of lament in his voice.

“Cold? Oh, poor baby,” she purred. Her left hand cradled his testicles while the other was running up and down, up and down...

“Still cold?” she asked with an innocent look. He nodded, not really caring much about his dignity.

“Here, maybe this will help,” Amanda smiled, bent between his legs and... exhaled. Again... and again... and again.

Her warm breath made his lok stir and his erection begun to form. Small drops of pre-cum appeared at his edge.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Oh, yes...” he sighed perfectly relaxed.

“Warmer?”

“Yes... Much warmer.”

“Good,” Amanda smiled and... removed her hands from his testicles.

Then she put his lok back in his pants, zipped him up - with a considerable difficulty as his erection was already hard - and patted his leg in a comforting gesture.

“I’m glad you are feeling better,” she said with a small smile while he watched her in disbelief... Why did she stop? Why? Why? Why?

Amanda hummed a cheerful tune as she took a handkerchief from her bag, cleaned her hands, and threw it in the garbage disposer. Then she searched her bag, found a magazine and started browsing the pages.

Sarek tried not to appear as miserable as he felt, but the bulb between his legs was not the only hard thing to ignore.

Amanda’s reaction was not usual... Normally in a situation like this, there would be 99.5 percent possibility she would initiate copulation. Why did she remove her hands? Sarek wondered.

Well, he wasn’t going to plead. He coughed to clear his voice. “Thank you for your service, Amanda. My temperature is greatly improved,” he said and bowed his head.

“Oh, you’re most welcome Sarek,” Amanda nodded with a subtle smile and focused on her reading.

Trying not to express unhappiness, Sarek took off his coat and concentrated his attention on trying to calm his hard lok. But at the same time he couldn’t stop wondering... Then he recalled the last time they argued, five days ago. And then terrified he recalled... her threat.

He looked at his ko-kugalsu, who sat quietly in her seat, reading.

“Amanda,” he asked “are you still angry with me?”

“Why Sarek,” she replied in a totally innocent tone “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Five days ago we had a disagreement.”

She narrowed her eyes, as if trying to recall. “Hmmm... did we?”

“I am pretty sure you remember.”

“A, yea! We did. You’re right, I’ve forgotten. Silly me!” This time she gave him a fake smile which he had learned to recognize. “Human memory can be so weak... Tsk tsk tsk.”

“Amanda, I have genuine reason to believe that you are still angry with me.”

“Now Sarek, be reasonable. Why would I still be angry with you?” she asked, browsing the magazine’s pages in an entirely indifferent manner.

“Because I refused to engage in copulation while we lived with your parents.”

Amanda put the magazine aside. “Well my dear, you don’t need to worry anymore. I told you, I will not harass you again. Your chastity is safe,” she said and while her mouth smiled, her smile was cold and her eyes were angry.

“You are being illogical, Amanda. I remind you that we are not bonded yet. Your parents did the right thing by placing us into separate bedrooms.”

“Only because you asked them to!” Amanda hissed.

“Certainly you can understand how disrespectful it is, enjoying the hospitality of your parents and at the same time engage in sexual intercourse with their daughter under their roof! We are not bonded yet!”

“So it is okay to fuck me on your desk, but not in my old bedroom?”

“May I remind you that it happened only once and I was intoxicated?”

“Well, you shouldn’t drink what people give you!”

“It was you who brought the chocolate liqueur! And quite conveniently forgot to mention its most important ingredient!”

“Whoa! Wait a minute! Are you accusing me of seducing you? I was sore for two days!”

“Actually, yes Amanda. I believe that you offered me the liqueur in the hope of taking advantage of me.”

Of course and she had. And she was prepared to admit it, the day the universe turned upside down. So for now she changed the subject - after all, she had learned from the best.

“Well, I didn’t see you complain!”

“You are missing the point here, Amanda. I am not saying I do not wish to engage in sexual intercourse with you. Nor I am saying that I am not getting any pleasure from it. I cannot lie. You give me great pleasure, I admit that. But we cannot copulate everywhere, anytime. There is a proper time and place for everything. The bedroom is for sleeping and mating, the kitchen is for cooking, the library is for studying and the bathroom is for bathing. My office is for working. And we came to your parents’ home for a visit. Soon we shall bond. But as we are not bonded yet, it is not proper to fornicate under your parents’ roof. Can’t you see how disrespectful it is?”

“Sarek, my parents know we are together! And they really do like you, even if - let’s face it - you weren’t their first choice for son-in-law. But they respect me, my choices and my fiancé. And you’re working so much; I barely manage to see you on weekdays! This holiday season was an ideal opportunity for us to relax and spend some time with each other. But no! You had to screw things up, with your twisted sense of ¡respect’!

“You know,” she continued “this may come as a big surprise for you, but my parents know I’m not a virgin any more. And they know whose fault it is. So if your little scheme was coming here and play ¡Mr. Virtuous and Nice’, it didn’t work! And excuse me if - for just ten days - I wanted you all for myself. My mom actually asked me if anything was wrong between us because we seemed distant to her. I had to lie and told her we’re fine.”

He remained silent for a few moments. “I apologize you had to lie to your mother.”

“If I had known that coming here meant we wouldn’t stay together, this visit would last two hours,” she muttered under her breath, looking out of the window.

“Amanda?”

“What?!”

“I apologize I rejected your sexual proposals while we were in your parents house.”

She nodded sharply.

“And in the barn. And in the forest. And in our car. And-”

“Yea, I get it! You’re sorry!”

“Amanda?”

“What?”

“Are you still angry with me?”

“Well, what do you think?”

“I think that you are... Amanda?”

“What?”

“Considering the fact that I too missed our physical proximity, regardless if I believe it was the proper thing to do, I would like to highlight the fact that there is too much snow outside.”

“So?”

“So, as all this cold, snowy weather is the Vulcan equivalent of hell, and considering the fact that it is freezing outside, could you please reconsider your statement that you will mate with me again ¡when hell freezes over’?”

Amanda bit her lips so as not to laugh. “I shall consider it,” she replied trying to keep a serious face.

“I’ve missed you.”

“Hmmm... you certainly didn’t show it.”

“When we are bonded, we won’t need to speak of such things. You will know,” he said with warmth in his voice.

“Hmmm... we’ll see,” she said, trying to sound indifferent. God only knew how much she awaited their marriage.

“Amanda?”

“What?”

“Are you still angry with me now?”

She tried not to smile. “Maybe I am... a little less. But you’ll need to make up Sarek! I mean it! I’ll require lots and lots of make up sex.”

“Which I shall be pleased to provide,” he said relieved. Their argument had ended. He extended his right hand and offered her his index and middle fingers to form the ozh'esta.

Amanda sighed. Then she offered her index and middle fingers and met his. “You better.”

“Very well,” he said calmly and placed his hands around her waist. Then as if she weighted almost nothing he raised her from her seat and placed her in his lap.

“Wow! What are you doing?” she yelled. His superior strength, although always controlled, never ceased to amaze her.

“I am fulfilling my promise. We shall engage in make-up sex,” he replied casually.

“Now? In the car? Somebody might come!”

He simply raised a challenging eyebrow. “Comfort zone, my foot!” Amanda said, eyeing him warily. Determined, she straddled him and he removed her sweater and started unbuttoning her blouse.

Seeing his serious face, she chuckled. He was always silent during sex, only his breath quickened and on rare occasions he moaned. Yet he had quirks, like everybody else. Knowing how much he loved it, she caressed his ears. Then she unzipped his pants. He was still hard as she took him in her hands.

“Well, hallo there! Oh, I’ve missed you!” she said fondling his lok. Quickly he removed her boots, unzipped her pants and started pulling them down to her knees.

“I am pleased that you and my lok are in such good terms,” he whispered harshly as he threw her pants aside. Then he started licking and biting her ears before moving down her throat.

One more item remained.

Sarek considered all the logical alternative choices and... ripped Amanda’s panties.

“Oh, no!” She moaned. “Not another! Sarek! This relationship will cost me a fortune in underwear!”

“I will buy you another,” he whispered in a heated voice while nibbling her throat. His hands cupped her breasts as his lok stood hard and erect at her entrance. “I will buy you every intimate secret Victoria has.”

Amanda moaned once more. “Oh! Sa-Sarek, I am not ready yet...”

He placed his hand between her legs. Indeed she was not adequately wet, he realized, caressing her folds. But that was about to change very soon. After all this was a game two could play.

“Do not worry ashayam,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes. “I too can provide a helping hand,” he murmured while his slender fingers started rubbing her clitoris.

Amanda gasped. Is that a smirk on his face? she wondered and due to multiple clitoral orgasms that was her last coherent thought for a considerable amount of time.


The End.

Day 23 of Advent

The Twelve Days of Sarek and Amanda’s Very Special Christmas

Author: Ster Julie

Codes: Sa/Am, Baby Spock (implied); written for the Sa/Am Advent Calendar 2011

Rating: G

Part 1/1

Summary: I think you get the idea.

--ooOoo--

On the first day of Christmas, my wife gave to me

an aesthetically pleasing baby boy.

On the second day of Christmas, my wife gave to me

2 rockers rocking,

And an aesthetically pleasing baby boy.

On the third day of Christmas, my good wife gave to me

3 sehlats guarding,

2 rockers rocking,

And an aesthetically pleasing baby boy.

On the fourth day of Christmas, my good wife gave to me

4 sets of onsies,

3 sehlats guarding,

2 rockers rocking,

And an aesthetically pleasing baby boy.

On the fifth day of Christmas, my dear wife gave to me

5 teething rings,

4 sets of onsies,

3 sehlats guarding,

2 rockers rocking,

And an aesthetically pleasing baby boy.

On the sixth day of Christmas, my dear wife gave to me

6 baby monitors,

5 teething rings,

4 sets of onsies,

3 sehlats guarding,

2 rockers rocking,

And an aesthetically pleasing baby boy.

On the seventh day of Christmas, my aduna gave to me

7 little bonnets,

6 baby monitors,

5 teething rings,

4 sets of onsies,

3 sehlats guarding,

2 rockers rocking,

And an aesthetically pleasing baby boy.

On the eighth day of Christmas, my aduna gave to me

8 baby bottles,

7 little bonnets,

6 baby monitors,

5 teething rings,

4 sets of onsies,

3 sehlats guarding,

2 rockers rocking,

And an aesthetically pleasing baby boy.

On the ninth day of Christmas, my aduna gave to me

9 folded nappies

8 baby bottles,

7 little bonnets,

6 baby monitors,

5 teething rings,

4 sets of onsies,

3 sehlats guarding,

2 rockers rocking,

And an aesthetically pleasing baby boy.

On the tenth day of Christmas, my k’diwa gave to me

10 little sleepers,

9 folded nappies

8 baby bottles,

7 little bonnets,

6 baby monitors,

5 teething rings,

4 sets of onsies,

3 sehlats guarding,

2 rockers rocking,

And an aesthetically pleasing baby boy.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my k'hat'n'dlawa gave to me

11 receiving blankets,

10 little sleepers,

9 folded nappies

8 baby bottles,

7 little bonnets,

6 baby monitors,

5 teething rings,

4 sets of onsies,

3 sehlats guarding,

2 rockers rocking,

And an aesthetically pleasing baby boy.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my Amanda gave to me

12 knitted booties,

11 receiving blankets,

10 little sleepers,

9 folded nappies

8 baby bottles,

7 little bonnets,

6 baby monitors,

5 teething rings,

4 sets of onsies,

3 sehlats guarding,

2 rockers rocking,

And…

… an aesthetically pleasing … beautiful … baby boy.

Day 24 of Advent

Almost Time (a picture)

By Karracaz

http://karracaz.deviantart.com/#/d4jyobz

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE.