Title: Gratified by Your Company

Author: Starfleetdream

Series: TOS (could be read as 2009 also)
Codes: Sa/Am
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't profit
Feedback: Yes, please
Summary: The year they met and married. Warning: Chapter 10 is explicit. Everything else is PG-13. There is a non-explicit version of this story posted on my author page on fanfiction.net.

Author’s notes: This is by far the longest piece of fiction I’ve written, and the longest piece I’ve written of any kind by about two times, so this feels like an accomplishment. It’s the product of nine months’ of work, a lot of inspiration from fellow fan writers, and my love of Sarek and Amanda as a pair.

My greatest thanks go to Selek for his incredible beta. He poured hours into reviewing and editing, for which I’m grateful. This story is a much better one for it, and I learned a ton as a writer.

Another big thank you goes to T’Lina for her encouragement and her excellent preview of the story. Thank you for the early feedback!

I’m also grateful for the Sa/Am group members who are inspirational as writers and encouraging as readers. The group’s warm welcome to my shorter efforts encouraged me to write this.

Some references: For all Vulcan words, phrases and translations, the outstanding Vulcan Language Dictionary, http://www.starbase-10.de/vld/. The quotation of Surak, “We have differences…” is from here (thank you again, Selek!).

Surak’s words referenced in Chapter 5 are from http://www.marketaz.co.uk/StarTrek/Vulcan/Surak.html and refer to “Cast out Fear. Cast out hate and rage. Cast out greed and envy. Cast out all emotion that speeds entropy, whether it be love or hate. Cast out these emotions by using reason to accept them, and then move past them. Use in moderation emotions that do not speed up entropy (e.g. compassion),” and “Master your passions so that they are used to slow entropy.” – Surak

Finally, the ideas to include security and staff (you’ll see) come from Anodyna over on LiveJournal. I love the way she thinks about Vulcans!

I hope you enjoy.

Gratified By Your Company

The year they met and married

by Starfleetdream

[artist?]

Chapter 1: October, 2228

Away and alone

He stood on the balcony of the embassy, a tall, brooding figure gazing out over the alien landscape. So vastly different from his home. Moisture clung to everything constantly, and a chill wind always blew. These were not new observations; he had come to this planet in service to his own people over two decades ago, and yet, the alien-ness of this place struck him anew. Perhaps his sojourn home in the last year, still too recent in his mind, caused him to desire the familiar surroundings of his world. That, however, was unproductive, so he shoved the thought away. His fate was decided for the indefinite future; he would be here.

Perhaps his elder had been correct, that it was for the best that he remain away from home for a time. Try as he might to meditate them away, too many painful memories lingered. In his entire life, he had never been denied anything; he always achieved his objectives. As first-born male heir to the most powerful family on his planet, he knew power from birth, both its privileges and its demands. Even at his relatively young age, as a prominent, successful diplomat, responsible for securing his home world’s interests with other worlds, he knew power by capability. He simply did not know failure.

So when his mate rejected him this past year, he was totally unprepared. She had chosen the way of the adepts, and so had forsaken all personal relationships – including the one with him, the one that had existed since they were children, the one that had lived in his mind since that early time, the one that would sustain his life. Now, in addition to the aching hole in his psyche that he felt but would not acknowledge, to his people his unbonded status made him a looming hazard, a ticking time bomb that needed to be defused. Though surrounded by loyal subordinates and in constant contact with extended family, he had never been more alone.

Today’s rumination was no different than any other day’s, and no more logical. It had brought him to the same conclusion that it always did: he was missing the other half of his soul. He perhaps had never had it with his former mate, but realizing he lacked what he knew to be an essential part of himself was a shock to his system nonetheless. It was not logical to expect that he would ever find it.

Devoted to a life of service as he was, he had little room for such personal concerns. He turned back inside. The bright blue, white-capped waters of the San Francisco Bay held little attraction for him. He had work to do.

S'chn T'gai Sarek of Vulcan was his planet’s ambassador to Terra, or Earth as its residents preferred to call it, and as such he was kept busy by the issues and controversies that were, it seemed, constantly generated by this world’s denizens. Public discourse here, even when it involved other worlds or the United Federation of Planets (UFP), was typically chaotic, overly emotional, and loud. The UFP was headquartered in San Francisco, and brought its own set of issues demanding Sarek’s attention.

Not an endearing public figure – for he did not expend effort in an attempt to become such – Sarek was nonetheless extremely (some complained ruthlessly) effective at his job. He consistently achieved the High Council’s bidding when they directed it, and when they did not deign to interject into matters, he did what was logical – and he succeeded. He of course adhered strictly to Vulcan’s moral code in all his endeavors, but he spared himself many of the time-wasting niceties in which those not from his world seemed to indulge.

He began another diplomatic day.

At his desk, Sarek listened while his aide briefed him on the day’s appointments and summarized the relevant news. Most important was the progress of the Centauri Accord, an agreement among member worlds of the Federation designed to bolster economic integration and economic strength that he had been charged with ushering through ratification. Vulcan favored the accord. The accord had to be ratified by each Federation member, and, of particular concern to Sarek, one of the most difficult approval battles was occurring on Earth. Sev updated his superior on the latest political maneuverings in Earth’s Parliament regarding the accord, as well as on the current tone of public opinion.

While popular sentiment was gradually turning in favor of the accord, there were still some segments vocally opposed to it, either due to economic fears or a particular nativist worldview that reviled the idea of greater integration with other planets. Sarek had seen similar dynamics before on other worlds. While not a particularly complex diplomatic problem, it nonetheless required patience and caution to resolve successfully.

His assistant also provided a news summary from Vulcan and a variety of reports for Sarek’s review. Before departing, Sev relayed one more piece of information. “And lastly, S’haile, there is a progress hearing at 1400 hours on the Universal Translator project at Federation Headquarters.”

Sarek nodded. “Your work is commendable, Sev.”

“I come to serve, S’haile.” Sev bowed his head and retreated from the office.

ooo

Otherwise engaged

She was young, but she was accomplished. Unusually intelligent, she combined her intellect with a personable nature and a drive that enabled her to get things done. Most of that drive was inborn, but some was also an attempt to re-direct energy borne of sadness.

Her youth was evident in her appearance but not in her bearing. She had always been self-possessed and strong-willed, and these assets proved crucial to her well being when she was suddenly orphaned as a teen, losing her parents in a shuttle accident. Her older brother lived off world, so she quickly became adept at self-sufficiency. Naturally friendly and self-confident, she maintained a satisfactory if, in her mind, unremarkable social life, filled as much as she wanted with friends and dates. Her focus and most of her time, however, were devoted to her work. This and her unusual brilliance were what enabled her to achieve so much so young. She loved her work, and found security in the fact that it could not be taken from her.

She did not see a reason to take another emotional risk at this stage in her young life. Further, she simply had remained uninspired by the men she had dated in college and beyond. So it made sense to protect a fragile heart, and it made equal sense to do something useful with the time that afforded her. As a result, she had earned two advanced degrees, including a doctorate, at an age when many of her contemporaries were only finishing their undergraduate work, and had already struck out on a path of teaching and research of her own.

Most recently she had agreed to take on a leading role in a very important Federation project – the development of a Universal Translator. A working translator would enable races within and without the Federation, as well as those newly contacted, to communicate with one another.

Amanda Grayson stepped off the tram and headed up the steps of the United Federation of Planets (UFP) Administration building. It was another beautiful fall day. She allowed herself to take it in for a moment before turning her thoughts to the day ahead.

As one of three lead investigators on the Universal Translator project and as its Linguistics head, she was responsible for gathering the input material essential for the system’s function: thousands, if not millions, of translations from one language to another. She and her team had labored for the past year compiling a huge, representatively-balanced database of known languages that the translator’s artificial intelligence would reference in seeking to interpret new languages. It would also serve the very useful purpose of allowing the many peoples of the Federation to communicate more readily with one another, even if they were not multilingual themselves.

The technical side of the project was proceeding surprisingly well. Her software and hardware counterparts had made amazing progress developing the algorithms and devices necessary to make a practical application out of several of the ground-breaking theories that had earned her such acclaim. At twenty, she had been the youngest appointed junior faculty member at Harvard and was recruited to the Universal Translator team as the foremost xenolinguist in her field. So she had picked up and moved again, this time from North America’s east coast to its west, to take on this new challenge.

Now a year later, testing of the system had begun as they worked in parallel to complete the database. What they needed most was more translations from Vuhlkansu. It was a difficult language and of a relatively closed society, meaning that the breadth of material that had been easy to obtain from other cultures had been a challenge to locate. Amanda recently had begun working with Soran, the chief of staff at the Vulcan Embassy, to gain access to less widely distributed works.

The immediate, most pressing issue for the Universal Translator project was another round of funding, followed by the need to secure an embassy willing to be the first beta tester for the translator. Amanda and her colleagues were to deliver a status report today to the UFP oversight committee responsible for the project. They had to get their next round of funding authorized and, as usual, doing so required dealing with a surprising number of political issues surrounding the translator.

There were a number of traditionalist groups on Earth and other worlds who feared the translator would increase alien influence in their cultures or somehow dilute their native languages. And now Starfleet was making noises about wanting a broader role in determining the system’s application and scope, possibly seeking to restrict its use as a military- or government-only technology.

The UFP members who sat on the oversight committee had been notoriously tight-fisted when it came to allocating funds for the project, which is why the team had to go back again and again for money to keep the project running, even though they had kept to an extremely austere budget. Finally, the project now required embassies from non-Standard-speaking worlds to assist with beta-testing the technology prior to it being rolled out further. As yet none had stepped up to be the first to test, probably because no one embassy wished to take on the larger time commitment of being first.

Amanda was well aware of all these issues, and, as exasperating as some of them seemed to one whose background was not politics, she felt that she and her co-leads were well prepared to deal with them at the status meeting later today.

First impressions

The meeting that afternoon was tumultuous. All of the traditionalist groups seem to be represented, and, rather than ask genuine questions about the translator, most seemed to use the opportunity for asking questions simply to grandstand about their particular issues. More frustrating were the committee representatives from the member worlds who were supposedly sponsoring the project. Each time Amanda or one of her colleagues brought up the need to reach closure on their funding proposal, the discussion was deflected away to a less germane topic. The committee chairwoman, Regina Orlofsky, the UFP administrator responsible for the project, was largely ineffective at moving the discussion along. While a capable technical administrator, she was neither a politician nor a diplomat, and she had failed to organize the necessary funding or testing support prior to this session. Admiral Sharif, the main proponent within Starfleet seeking greater control over the translator, was also quite vocal and appeared to be making some headway with the committee members.

Returning from another meeting, Ambassador Sarek and members of his delegation joined the session while it was in progress. Sarek was familiar with the project, and interested because of his own computer background, but he was not acquainted with any of the project’s lead researchers. He was reviewing the session’s distributed notes on a PADD when one of them began speaking, causing him to look up. The speaker was a Human female, and her voice was strong and confident as she answered an inquiry questioning the value of broad distribution of the translator.

“The Universal Translator obviously offers great value for exploration and first contact opportunities, and that is a primary focus of its functionality. However, it also offers great utility among peoples who are already acquainted. While a great many beings within the Federation are multilingual, the vast majority are not, and, while we can hope for this situation to change, in the meantime a translator can assist by facilitating greater commerce, education and overall cultural understanding among our many diverse worlds. Since these are some of the very reasons the Federation was formed, surely a technology which enables those goals is worthwhile to fund, test and implement.”

Sarek leaned forward, intrigued. The Human was eloquent, displaying an obvious intellect, poise and passion for her work. She continued to answer questions, a number of them hostile, speaking politely yet forcefully about how well the project team had met aggressive deadlines within budget and what the costs would be of interrupting the project if needed funding and testing were not forthcoming. Her points were logical yet passionately made, a combination Sarek found quite interesting.

The committee chair was now adjourning the meeting, announcing a closed session for Federation representatives only the following day to resolve the still-open issues. Sarek leaned toward Soran and spoke quietly to him before rising to depart with the rest of the attendees.

ooo

Following the frustrating conclusion of the oversight session, Amanda and her teammates retreated back to the large, open-plan office that housed their project. She and her co-leads would strategize about talking points to give the chairwoman for tomorrow’s session and about which committee members to try to buttonhole before then for support. In the meantime, they had an ongoing task list they needed to make sure was still being addressed by the junior team members and the many interns working on the project. Although it had been a long day already, they got to work as quickly as they could.

ooo

Amanda felt his presence before she actually saw him. A slight hush fell over the noisy room and she looked up, her eyes fixing on the Vulcan delegation that had just entered. She had worked with several Vulcans so far on the project, so their appearance was unremarkable in that respect. This group was different, however. Amanda's eyes were drawn to the figure at its center. He was tall, even for a Vulcan, dark, and imposing. His eyes swept the room commandingly, missing nothing. His hair was dark, but of a wavier texture than his colleagues'. His features, from his dramatic brows and elegant ears to his broad jaw, were sharp, angular and strong, and his presence seemed to demand attention.

She recognized him from the news feeds as the Vulcan ambassador. Frequently in the press, and often excoriated in editorials, he was a prominent, if often unpopular, figure. Vulcan seemed to dictate much of Federation policy whenever controversial issues arose, much to the irritation of many Terrans, and since Ambassador Sarek was the voice of Vulcan, he was the target of their frustration.

While she like many other Humans found Vulcans attractive as a species in general, she thought to herself he was a particularly striking individual. He was now speaking to the one she recognized as Soran, and they were looking in her direction. Amanda quelled an uncharacteristic stab of self-consciousness before returning her attention to the intern before her.

Moments later a shadow fell over her table and she looked up to see Soran and his broad-shouldered colleague. "Greetings, Chief of Staff Soran," she said in Standard, raising her hand in the ta'al, then, "Nashaut, Fei t’suyu Soran.”

"Dr. Grayson," Soran replied, "May I introduce S’chn T’gai Sarek of Vulcan, Ambassador to Earth.” At that moment piercing hazel eyes met deep blue ones and time seemed to pause for just an instant.

"Live long and prosper, Dr. Grayson," Sarek acknowledged gravely, offering the ta’al.

“Sochya eh dif, Kevet-dutar,” Amanda responded, raising her hand in the same salute.

Sarek did not outwardly react but he was impressed by her flawless delivery in Vuhlkansu. Although it was logical in her position that she possess some command of Vulcan, he had found precious few Humans who were functional in his language, and fewer still who were actually fluent. Now at closer range, he observed her appearance in more detail. Her hair was golden brown, and her slight but apparently healthy frame belied the strength of will he had observed earlier during the hearing. The most striking thing about her appearance, however, was her eyes. They were a deep, clear blue, and they seemed lit from within as her direct gaze unapologetically met his.

Her intellectual capability had been obvious from her conduct in the hearing. Now, as she returned Soran’s greeting and chatted briefly with friendly ease, still in Vuhlkansu, Sarek sensed that something in her manner was unique from other Humans he had encountered. He detected an aura from her, a moderate one, not unlike many others he encountered from Humans. Interestingly, though, hers seemed… steadier, more self-assured, than the others that frequently struck him as flighty and weak.

His curiosity piqued, he waited for a break in their conversation. “Dr. Grayson,” he asked, “how are you and your team addressing the political issues that have arisen around the Universal Translator project?”

She gave them a wry smile. “It’s been an education, Ambassador. I’m a teacher and a researcher foremost, and I think much the same can be said for most of the team. As a result, we weren’t expecting these challenges and we’ve had to learn very quickly. Lately, though, I’ve started to think it would be nice to have someone with that kind of expertise on our side.”

“Indeed. The socio-political dynamics surrounding the translator are complex. Teaching is a most honorable pursuit,” he added, thinking of his own time at the Vulcan Science Academy. He was rewarded for his comment by a warm smile that unexpectedly enhanced her aesthetic appeal.

“Yes, teaching is my first passion. This is rewarding, too, of course,” she gestured around her, “and it needs to be done.” Their eyes met again.

If Amanda found his appearance striking from across the room, she found his voice positively arresting. It was deep and pleasant, with a unique timbre that positively vibrated up and down her spine. Impressive as he sounded over the news feeds, they did not do it justice. Then there were his eyes. Dark hazel, they bored into hers; she knew it was irrational, but his piercing gaze seemed to see right through into her soul.

With a small start, Amanda realized that the conversation had paused. She broke her gaze with the ambassador and turned to Soran. “Soran, I’m almost done with that last set of documents you sent for me to translate. I’ll be ready for a new set in a day or two.” Turning back to Sarek, she added, “Soran has been most helpful providing us with documentation in Vuhlkansu for the translator database.”

Sarek inclined his head silently at the compliment to his aide, while Soran intoned, “I come to serve.”

“Your service honors us,” Amanda completed the traditional exchange, smiling again, and added, “I hope that we can be of equal service to you.”

With that, the two Vulcans took their leave, sweeping up the rest of the delegation behind them. Amanda watched them depart. It would be intriguing to engage the ambassador in a longer conversation, if only to hear that voice and look into those eyes again... Then she shook her head and returned to work; she could only imagine the Vulcan ambassador’s reaction to a flirting Human female.

ooo

“You have interacted with Dr. Grayson?” Sarek asked Soran as they left the hall.

“Yes. She is quite intelligent, and diligent. And she appears to manage her team efficiently.” This was high praise, coming from his old friend.

Sarek nodded. “I will attend the closed session on the Universal Translator tomorrow.”

Catalyst

The follow-up session on Universal Translator funding was almost as chaotic as the first one. Chairwoman Orlofsky fielded comments from the representatives of the member worlds on the funding committee but failed to obtain any kind of consensus. Commentary primarily consisted of bickering about why each of the representatives should have to provide funding or be the first to beta-test the translator. For a long time Sarek merely sat silently in the back, observing, his analysis of the situation confirmed. The amount of funding required was trifling; he did not even have to seek approval from Vulcan for this. It will be a relatively simple matter to thwart a Starfleet takeover of the project and to secure its completion in an efficient manner.

Admiral Sharif saw his opportunity in the failed consensus to press his case. “Madame Chairman, given the lack of available funding from the assigned member worlds, Starfleet is probably the best equipped at this point to provide both funding and oversight for this project. We would be glad to provide these services.”

Before the Chairman could respond, Sarek spoke. “That will be unnecessary, Madame Chairman. As you’ll note in the documents transmitted to the committee a short while ago, Vulcan has agreed to serve as the primary beta tester for the Universal Translator, and in this capacity we will also underwrite the project for the duration of the testing period. We only require that, for efficiency’s sake, the project be headquartered at the Vulcan Embassy for this phase.”

Obviously surprised but pleased to be presented with a painless solution to this situation, Chairman Orlofsky seized upon Sarek’s offer. “That is very generous of Vulcan, Ambassador Sarek. Do I hear any objections from the committee?”

The other committee members, having only succeeded in staking out why their worlds should not fund the project, and also pleased that Vulcan was stepping in to absolve them of their obligations, had little of consequence to contribute. Sarek waited patiently until the chatter died down. When Admiral Sharif tried unsuccessfully to resurrect Starfleet’s offer, Sarek calmly deflected it. Then he rose. “Madame Chairman, if these proceedings are concluded, I trust you will see to it that the Universal Translator team is transferred to the Vulcan Embassy at its earliest convenience.”

Orlofsky gave him her assurances, and adjourned the meeting. Pleased that the committee had accepted a logical solution, Sarek departed, confident that there would now be few problems in completing this phase of the translator’s development.

Reaction

The day had been an unmitigated disaster. Amanda had arrived at her office that morning only to find movers unceremoniously packing up her and her team’s materials. They were being moved to the Vulcan Embassy, of all places, and no one seemed to be available or able to provide any explanation. Her two co-lead investigators, Wei Ming and Jennreth’nu, were personally supervising the movement of the main computers and other sensitive equipment, leaving Amanda to deal with an irritated and concerned team of developers and linguists now at the embassy. Snatches of annoyed conversation followed her as she spied Soran and attempted, for what seemed like the fortieth time, to obtain an explanation from someone for the bedlam.

“S’haile Soran–” she began.

“Just how hot is it in here, anyway?” someone grumbled to no one in particular. It was hot.

“We’ve lost at least a week of work, for certain.”

“We better find out soon what the hell is going on or I swear –”

Amanda raised her voice over the din. “Soran!”

Sarek was returning from a meeting when his ears picked up unusual sounds in the embassy: raised voices. Far down the long hallway he detected a commotion and what sounded like Human voices. He turned toward the disturbance. When he arrived in the large office area, he encountered several non-Vulcans and a prodigious number of boxes, computers and other items piled on the floor. Everyone seemed to be talking at once, gesticulating at the piles, and the cacophony was loud enough that it hurt his ears. Then he saw Soran attempting to hold a conversation with an agitated Dr. Grayson.

“Soran, look,” Amanda implored, growing frustrated. “You must be able to tell me something. We find ourselves just moved here today, we don’t know why, my team is very upset, and I can’t tell them anything—”

“As I stated, Dr. Grayson, I will have to have you speak to the ambassador when he is available—”

“Oh please!” she snapped, then regretted it.

Just as she opened her mouth again to apologize, Sarek stepped in. “Dr. Grayson. Employees are expected to converse at appropriate volumes inside the embassy.”

Excuse me? Amanda thought. “Well then, it’s a good thing I’m not an embassy employee, isn’t it?” she said tightly. “In fact, Ambassador, I’m not sure why I’m even here. My team and I have just been summarily picked up and moved across town without explanation and no one seems able to tell me a damn—”

Although he gave no outward indication, Sarek was taken aback by her demeanor. She is quite emotional. Apparently she requires a more complete explanation. “I am responsible.”

"What? ” Amanda was sure she misheard. She wiped the sweat from her forehead.

"The Universal Translator requires testing by a non-Standard speaking delegation as well as funding. I have volunteered the Vulcan delegation. It is logical for developers and testers to be co-located; thus, your team has been provided space here.”

"Wait. So you're the one who moved us?”

“I believe that is what I just said.”

The grip on her temper was rapidly slipping away. We barely avoided Starfleet’s attempt to commandeer the project only to find we’ve been hijacked by the Vulcan delegation instead? “It is highly inappropriate to unilaterally enact a major change in a development project like this without involving the researchers!”

“I assumed you would be informed."

“The movers just showed up this morning and told us we were being moved this afternoon!”

“So you were informed. What is the problem?”

This is the man I found so charming two days ago? “My team’s work flow has been disrupted, I’ve got engineers concerned about possible data loss, all while we’re trying to meet deadlines for this project. It would have been much better to involve us in this process ahead of time!” His stone-faced stare in response did it for her. “It sure would be helpful if we had a working Universal Translator right now, don’t you think, Mr. Ambassador, because I do not believe we are communicating!”

Amanda’s words hung in the air for a tense moment. Soran, observing the scene with dismay, had never heard any being address his superior in such a way. He saw Sarek’s jaw tighten ever so slightly, and he dreaded what was to happen next.

The ambassador appeared to stand even taller as he looked down upon the Human linguist. When he spoke, his voice was calm but very firm. “Doctor. A review of the facts if you please. Yesterday this project was without funding and without a suitable group willing to assist in testing the translator. Today you have both. It is not my concern if your Human channels of communication are flawed. And I was not aware that the physical location of your offices would affect the competency level at which you and your team perform your designated tasks.”

Amanda controlled her fury and frustration only barely, her voice trembling with the effort. "Our work has been disrupted with an unplanned move which will take days from which to recover – hopefully no more. Also, hopefully, there has been no irreparable damage. Mr. Ambassador, sir, if you please," she inhaled through clenched teeth, “please… just leave me to sort through the wreckage here. I may be stuck in this inferno but I do not work for you!"

Sarek observed her flashing blue eyes and accelerated breathing. She is angry; not the reaction I expected but Humans are unpredictable. However, she is distressed by the apparent lack of communication prior to the move, and she is apparently physically uncomfortable due to the climate here at the embassy. He himself had assumed the logistics would be handled better than they had been on the Federation side. Yet she defends her teammates, and is primarily concerned about the adverse effects the situation will have on them and their work. While admirable, this still does not excuse such an emotional display. He coolly replied, “As Vulcan is underwriting this portion of the project, Doctor, at this point, you do.” With that, he nodded to Soran and they both turned back down the hall.

Unbelievable, Amanda thought. "That arrogant excuse for a diplomat has no idea how far his head is up his ass!" she muttered in disgust.

Several paces away, Sarek stopped and turned back toward her, arching a brow. "A curious image. But quite anatomically impossible, even for a Vulcan, Dr. Grayson." He turned again and strode away, leaving Amanda's face burning red as she contemplated kicking the file cabinet.

It had been a long time, if ever, since anyone had gotten to her like that. Great, she thought. I’ve probably short-circuited this project as well as my professional reputation by telling off the Vulcan ambassador. Well, if I’m on the next shuttle back to the East Coast, I have only myself to blame. She was roused from her glum thoughts as Rob, one of the developers, let out a low whistle. “Whoa, G, I thought you were gonna rip him a new one!”

Amanda closed her eyes. “Good thing I didn’t, huh?” Resigned, she set out to find the rest of the team to more thoroughly assess their situation.

ooo

As they returned down the hallway, Sarek turned to Soran with a quizzical look. “So this is the Human female you spoke so highly of?”

“I must ask forgiveness for my premature assessment, S’haile,” Soran replied, somewhat flustered. “I had not observed such a highly emotional aspect to Dr. Grayson’s behavior before this.”

“She is Human, after all, Soran,” Sarek responded. “And it is of no matter. I found the experience…interesting.” It seemed as though her eyes became even bluer when they flashed in anger. And although she had been overly emotional, perhaps even for a Human, she had not backed down even when he had been most intimidating toward her. Most Humans – in fact, most beings – tended to retreat rather quickly when he addressed them that way. He was… impressed.

Roses

As it turned out, Amanda wasn’t shipped out of town; in fact, no one said anything to her about her outburst, a fact she found quite curious. It also turned out that the project was not overly disrupted by the move after all. No data had been lost, despite everyone’s worst fears, and getting back on schedule did not appear difficult. The climate at their new location was another matter, however. Some of the engineers threatened to come to work in swimsuits. In the end they just opened as many windows as they could, resulting in a significant waste of energy that would no doubt annoy their Vulcan hosts when they discovered it. But it was that or sweat instead of work, so it seemed the best alternative.

It also appeared that they would be remaining here. None of her or the other investigators’ inquires back to UFP Headquarters revealed any information other than what Sarek had already told her, and it quickly became obvious that what Ambassador Sarek said, went. It also became obvious that the Universal Translator did not have any alternative sources of funding at the moment, so protesting their current (funded) situation was out of the question. Amanda was just returning from the meeting discussing all of this when she saw a deliveryman waiting for her at her desk.

“Ms. Amanda Grayson?”

“I’m Dr. Grayson, yes,” Amanda replied and then stopped when she saw her workspace.

The two dozen red roses took up her entire desk. Amanda wasn't sure who felt more awkward, her or the delivery guy wondering what he was doing inside the Vulcan embassy. After the man hastily retreated down the hushed hallway, she rang the man she knew had sent them. A nice gesture, she thought, but the right sentiment just isn’t there. Need to get the obligatory thank-you out of the way.

"Michael, I don't know what to say - they're lovely," she said when he came on-screen.

Michael smiled indulgently. "As you are, my Amanda."

I'm not yours, she thought. Instead she said, "I’m surprised the florist found me here..."

"Oh, I know where you spend most of your time!” he answered and chuckled. Amanda felt more disturbed than flattered by that, but before she could respond she saw a tall figure striding down the hall in her direction. Oh great, she thought. "Michael, I need to go. Thank you; they are lovely. ‘Bye."

By now Sarek had reached her office, and had walked straight in as she finished the call. He had undoubtedly heard most of it. Amanda looked up, slightly irritated. "It is customary to knock, you know."

"Illogical. The door was open." She just looked at him, wondering if he even noticed she was annoyed.

She is emotional again, he thought. He focused his attention on the flowers. "You have altered your workspace, Dr. Grayson."

"Um, yes. They were... a surprise."

"What practical purpose does this surprise serve?" Without waiting for an answer, Sarek leaned over to inspect the card sticking out of the bouquet.

Amanda blushed in surprise and found herself wishing she could shove the entire huge vase under her desk. Really, he’s reading the card…

"On Earth is it customary to declare one's interest in a potential mate by offering dying vegetation?"

“Yes, actually,” Amanda replied tartly. “Although he’s not a potential mate,“ she continued, shaking her head as she thought about Michael. Why did I offer that up? “Not that it's any of your business,” she added quickly. “But if they’re offensive I can certainly remove them," she concluded, a little too defensively, her chin jutting toward him. "In the meantime, you doubtless didn't come down here to ask me about the role of Terran flora in Human dating rituals, so what can I do for you?"

Again Sarek was struck by this woman’s temerity as well as her emotionalism. It seemed that she was frequently angry. He also realized that he actually would prefer that she remove the roses, but as he had no logical reason for her to do so, he filed the thought away for later examination and ignored her comment.

“I wish to inform you that I have authorized your team’s use of a block of offices on the first floor, adjacent the garden. They have been installed with a climate control system that operates separately from the rest of the embassy. If these are acceptable to you, your work materials will be transferred there.”

Amanda was momentarily speechless. What had motivated this? “Well, Ambassador, that’s … much appreciated. Thank you. I’ll contact Soran in the morning about arranging the move.”

“That will be satisfactory.” He turned to depart, but she couldn’t resist a query. “You know, you could have just had our things moved again. And you could have had an aide deliver the news.”

He turned back to her, and his intent gaze did not waver. “Yes,” was all he said, and he strode away.

She removed the roses.

Apologies

The Vulcan staff had quietly and with extreme efficiency moved the translator team into the ground floor space where the grateful Humans could adjust the temperature to something more to their liking. Amanda was pleased with the layout as well; each team member had a private space to work but there was also a common space for collaboration that was still separate from the rest of the embassy, meaning they could interact in their normal, sometimes boisterous way without disturbing anyone else.

Amanda took the lift upstairs from the new offices, heading to the ambassador’s area. As she drew near, her normally purposeful stride slowed. She owed the ambassador an apology for her behavior the other day, and she wasn’t really looking forward to it.

Sev waved her inside, and she walked into the large office. Seated behind the massive desk at the far end, Sarek looked up as she approached, fixing her with his hawk-like gaze. Oh yes, he’s handsome. Now decidedly on his turf, Amanda struggled to push away the self-consciousness she suddenly felt. The ambassador certainly had a knack for making his opponents feel off-kilter. But you’re not here to debate him, she reminded herself.

“Ambassador,” she greeted him.

“Doctor,” he responded simply.

“I came to thank you for the new office space. It is much more comfortable for us, and your staff did an outstanding job moving us so quickly.”

“Relocating your team to a work space better suited to your physiological needs was only logical. Thanks are not necessary.”

“From a Human point of view, they are, in fact, but I understand. Actually, what I really wanted to do was, ah… offer an apology for my… outburst the other day.”

He raised one of those impressive brows at her as if in question. You’re going to make me spell this out, aren’t you? she thought with some frustration. I’m not going to let you see me squirm… much, anyway. She continued, “When I… got angry… it was uncalled for, really, and unprofessional on my part, and I apologize.” There, done.

“Are you referring to when you ordered me out of your office, Dr. Grayson, or to the anatomical reference about—?”

“You don’t need to repeat it,” Amanda interrupted quickly, holding up a hand to stop him. “And I’m referring to both, actually, if we really need to specify. I don’t usually… explode at people like that.” He’s really pushing his luck.

He tilted his head. “I am unharmed, as no part of you appears to have actually detonated.”

The linguist opened her mouth to respond then stopped. Is he teasing me? “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you,” she said finally.

“I do not know what you mean.”

“Right.” Amanda crossed her arms, studying him for a moment. “I take it this means you accept my apology.”

“An apology is not necessary, Doctor. The cause was sufficient.”

“I see.” Huh. Perhaps this is his version of an apology of sorts as well. “Well, thank you anyway. And yes, I know that isn’t necessary either.”

He merely arched a brow again and began to turn back toward his work. Still emotional. Appears quite healthy. Quite healthy indeed. This thought was followed immediately by, physical attraction is not in and of itself illogical; it is simply a physiological phenomenon. What matters is how one controls that phenomenon. And my control is excellent.

Understanding that their discussion was concluded, Amanda murmured, “Good day, Ambassador,” and turned to leave. She had almost reached the door when she felt his sharp eyes on her again.

“Good day, Doctor,” he returned, the smoothness of his voice strangely complementing the calm intensity of his stare.

Soran’s suggestion

It was Thursday when Amanda was reviewing the latest round of Vulcan translations with Soran that he broached the subject with her. Over tea, Amanda had mentioned the latest press outburst over Vulcan actions, this time relating to the Universal Translator. “I was disappointed to see that editorial in today’s news feeds about the translator project – some nonsense about ‘Vulcan usurping Terran technological development.’ They seem to forget that Terra was one of the member worlds who couldn’t come up with funding.”

“It is unfortunate,” Soran responded, “but not unusual. It is typical for the Terran press to ignore Vulcan embassy statements, as it has here, and to instead focus on rumor or even fabrications.”

“That is unfortunate,” Amanda replied. “I think one factor might be that the media here have a fundamentally different motivation than Vulcan media. Here, the primary objective is not simply to report the facts, but to increase viewership. It’s a fundamental part of the economic – and social – equation. Sometimes focusing on just the facts runs counter to that goal.”

Soran’s look of utter incomprehension almost made her laugh outright.

“Earth media also has an historic role as the public skeptic and, ironically, truth-seeker, with the assumption that ‘official’ sources are not always to be trusted. The press is habitually un-trusting of authority.”

They dropped the topic for the time being and returned to the translations. A little while later, Soran spoke up. “Dr. Grayson, I recognize that you would like a broader range of materials to translate. It occurs to me that a better contact for you would be Ambassador Sarek. He is better versed in classical Vulcan literature than I; he is also able to authorize the release of restricted materials.”

Amanda was immediately intrigued. Restricted materials? Very interesting. And the idea of interpreting literature with Sarek? Also interesting. Aloud, she chuckled. “Are you a betting man, Soran? It’s been a whole week since I told the ambassador off; are you sure I’ll be able to restrain myself if I’m defending my translations with him?”

Soran pursed his lips. “I have confidence in your abilities, Doctor. In addition, I believe you could be of some assistance to the ambassador.”

Amanda raised her eyebrows at this.

Soran continued. “Sarek has obviously learned a great deal about Human culture and customs during his time on Earth. However, there is always more to be learned, and it is easier to do so outside of diplomatic circles and in the company of a native. You could provide that perspective. You also seem to have some understanding of the Terran press that could be… helpful to the embassy. The media is much more of an unpredictable factor in affairs here and we are not accustomed to this.”

Amanda looked thoughtful for a moment. She had plenty to keep her busy at the moment. Still, spending time with Sarek in this way sounded intriguing, and not altogether unpleasant. And Soran was right about the press. The embassy was frequently at a disadvantage in any public discussion of an issue and it needlessly generated negative sentiment toward Vulcan, a fact that she felt was wrong. If she could help in some way, she would. “All right Soran,” she said slowly with a grin. “I’ll take this on. Will you inform the ambassador of his good fortune, or shall I?”

ooo

Later that day, Amanda ran into Sarek outside his office. “Good afternoon, Ambassador. I understand from Soran I’m to come to you for new translation material.”

“Indeed.”

“Yes, he said you would be a better source of classical Vulcan literature.”

Sarek nodded. “That is probably true.”

“And in exchange, I’m to provide you with additional insights into Human culture.”

“Yes, he did recommend that,” he replied, now wondering what his aide had in mind, precisely. “What do you suggest?”

Amanda looked up at him, considering. A slight smile playing about her lips, she replied, “Let’s have lunch tomorrow.”

Sarek frowned at this un-novel proposal. “Lunch?”

“Yes. Let’s see if we can get through a meal without an argument.”

“That is a low standard for success.”

“See?” Amanda exclaimed triumphantly, her smile mischievous, “Here we are, arguing about how difficult it will be for us not to argue!”

Sarek merely flicked a brow. “Until tomorrow, then, Doctor.” It seems little with this Human female is predictable. Lunch should prove intriguing.

Lunch

Lunch was interesting, pleasant, and there were no arguments. Amanda had insisted they get take-out and sit in the garden. She had originally arrived at his office intending to take him to one of her favorite vegetarian cafés. However, when they prepared to depart and were suddenly joined by Stanek, Chief of Security, and Sarek’s three personal security guards, she balked. “I can see why you don’t get out much,” she commented drily, looking askance at the four silent, somewhat hulking guards. “How about I go get take-out for us instead?”

Later, as they ate (without guards), Amanda observed him. He was certainly one of the most magnetic colleagues she had ever worked with, suffused with an exotic, potent vitality of which he did not seem consciously aware. Not that it would ever be appropriate to act on it. But she could at least enjoy his good looks from an aesthetic point of view.

She was interrupted from her musings when he spoke. “A question, Dr. Grayson.”

“Of course.”

“What was your reason for changing our venue for mid-meal?”

“I didn’t realize you would need a security detail if we went out. I find it’s more difficult to get to know someone in a crowd.”

Sarek considered her words for a moment. “You consider them intrusive?”

“No; they’re not doing anything inappropriate… Well, yes, in a way, I guess; not that it’s their fault. For the kind of informational exchange we’re trying to accomplish, I think it’s best done one-on-one, but I’d feel awkward just ignoring anyone else who was with us.”

“Interesting,” he replied. It was obvious he was so used to the presence of security and other staff that it did not affect him. He continued. “I do not wish for you to be uncomfortable. Perhaps Stanek can be persuaded to loosen some of his security protocols.”

Amanda smiled. He had a reputation for being stubborn and intransigent, but that did not appear to extend to every situation. “I don’t want to put you out.”

“Put me out of where?”

Now she laughed, and he noticed how her eyes sparkled. “To ‘put you out’ means to inconvenience you.”

“It is no inconvenience to speak with Stanek.”

“That would be nice, then. If I may change the topic, Ambassador?”

He nodded, still watching her eyes with interest. There is merit to one-on-one interaction with this Human, it seems.

“I had some questions about our translations of the Pre-Reform history text that Soran gave me…”

The rest of lunch passed in animated conversation about Vulcan’s distant past. Sarek was definitely a student of history – both Vulcan’s and Earth’s – and Amanda was looking forward to discussing Vulcan literature with him if his knowledge there was even close to his grasp of history.

They quickly established a routine, meeting often daily, frequently over lunch, to discuss their recent activities. Amanda explained, commented on, and provided a Human perspective for his experiences and interactions, current events and cultural phenomena. Sarek reviewed her translations from Vulcan, provided interpretations, and compared Vulcan and Earth history. When she learned of his interest in Terran literature, especially poetry, she started to bring favorite works of hers to compare with the Vulcan ones he shared with her.

They soon began to venture outside the embassy, with Stanek’s reluctant acquiescence. Often Stell and T’Lina, of Sarek’s personal detail, would accompany them at a discreet distance, although if they stopped for lunch Amanda insisted that they join her and Sarek. At first, the two younger Vulcans sat awkwardly, clearly unsure how to interact with this Human and their superior, but gradually Amanda’s friendly bearing and perceptive questioning drew them out. Sarek preferred to observe during these interactions, learning about his staff and about this Human’s unique style of communication.

For Amanda’s part, she found herself looking forward to her meetings with the Vulcan diplomat who so recently had utterly incensed her. These sessions were indeed proving to be interesting.

Chapter 2: November, 2228

An improbable friendship

Sarek immediately found her intelligence arresting. Her academic credentials of course suggested it, but Sarek had met many of this world and others who had amassed such honors only to be lacking in any real intellectual curiosity, having become complacent and self-satisfied. In addition to her apparently sharp analytical skills, she was capable of intuitive leaps that often left Sarek behind temporarily as she reached conclusions without necessarily progressing through all the steps of logic he would have considered necessary. Nonetheless, they often reached the same conclusions, even if their methods were different.

And when they did not, their debates were spirited. As obvious as the correct answer was to him, she would refuse to back down, often surprising him with a line of argument he had not thought of. He found the intellectual give and take in her company to be more stimulating than that with any of the other Humans in his association, or his staff. He knew his staff wondered why he put up with such a highly emotional Human. He wondered as well, but he did it anyway.

Sarek found Amanda extremely perceptive of and sensitive to his culture, as well as others, a skill and an outlook that was rare in his experience. She never attempted to sublimate her own Humanity, but at the same time never allowed the lens through which she perceived the universe to be limited to a solely Human perspective. She, in fact, lived the principles of IDIC very effectively – more so than many Vulcans of his acquaintance.

At the same time he detected a hidden vulnerability about her. Her demeanor was almost always confident, but occasionally, like a curtain being raised and then lowered, he would sense a trace of fear at revealing too much of herself. Even so, she lived passionately, and this fascinated Sarek, as it was so different from his controlled existence. Outwardly calm and professional most of the time, she nonetheless possessed a mischievous sense of humor which she often employed around him, for some reason. She allowed herself to engage in life, with joy and enthusiasm for friends and her work, with burning anger for injustice, and intense compassion for those in need.

Sarek also found that she drew him out as no other could. He allowed her to broach topics, personal and otherwise, that he would have refused to discuss with any other. He found a certain peace and acceptance in her presence that enabled him to reveal aspects of himself that he had shown no one else.

Sarek noticed that she sought him out. He did not object; her company was…agreeable. He too sought her out at unscheduled times for relatively minor reasons. He imagined that she noticed this as well, but for some reason it did not bother him.

He found her company stimulating for some reasons he understood and others he did not. So he welcomed her presence, and decided to continue to gather data. It was logical to seek to understand the underlying dynamics of a particular stimulus, after all.

ooo

Amanda definitely found herself warming to the reserved Vulcan ambassador. His mind was razor sharp, and he was the most intellectually curious person she had ever met. Unlike so many of her learned colleagues or the politicians she encountered while working on the Universal Translator, he was not constantly seeking to fit new information into a preconceived worldview. She thought this was perhaps because his role required the skills and the disposition to effectively understand her world and its people. She recognized the balancing act required for him to be flexible and open enough to succeed as a diplomat while also maintaining the traditional behavior obligatory to one representing all of Vulcan. Somehow he managed to be galactically cosmopolitan while still very Vulcan.

Amanda also came to realize that his occasionally arrogant demeanor was often the result of the Vulcan habit of simply stating established facts without regard to the unintended emotional impact they might have on his listeners. Similarly, his dominant, pervasive air of command belied both deep compassion and a surprising perceptiveness.

She found that she could increasingly discern his moods – for they did exist – from the smallest of signals. His disposition was like the desert, seemingly barren to the untrained eye, but in actuality teeming with vibrant, carefully concealed, life.

One of Amanda’s most pleasing discoveries had been the dry wit hidden underneath his cool exterior. He could make her laugh at the most unexpected times, and she found his sense of humor resonated with her own. Tantalizingly, Amanda occasionally glimpsed a hint of passion, tightly chained and seen only fleetingly, such as when he read poetry aloud.

In their private conversations he slowly opened up to her, revealing these sides of himself, and she to him. His complex character fascinated her.

She further detected, still hidden behind layers of control, a solitude, a vulnerability, about him that was startling given how often he was surrounded by aides and colleagues and the furnishings of power. It was a solitude and a vulnerability she could relate to.

She found herself seeking out his company. She learned she could trust him as a friend, and trust was something she did not give easily. Though never indicated by any outward emotional sign, Amanda knew he welcomed her presence, too.

Thus began their improbable friendship, the expressive Human linguist and the reserved Vulcan diplomat. They spent more time together, titles giving way to first names over time as they explored a shared passion for literature, history and cultural analysis, over tea or walking in Golden Gate Park.

Jousting

"You did that? Well, that's ridiculous!" Amanda snorted.

Sarek turned toward his Human companion, robes swirling in the hall. He engaged his controls, ensuring that his face remained impassive as he faced her. He would not rise to the bait. He noted to himself – even as he replied, "Precisely what do you find 'ridiculous,' Dr. Grayson?" – that his response to her occasional outbursts had changed since they first met a month ago.

Whereas initially he’d had to quell actual irritation with her emotional provocations, now he found he experienced a certain... amusement. And further, almost a sort of... pleasure, if he dared admit that, in schooling his response (or lack thereof) to them. It was a kind of game between them, he realized. It was an illogical game, but an intellectually stimulating one, for him, to anticipate what was likely to trigger an opening salvo from her, and for her in turn to demonstrate logic to justify the emotion behind it. It was strangely gratifying to him that she almost unerringly did produce a valid line of reasoning, even if emotionally based, a kind of illogical logic.

She answered his question. "It's ridiculous to expect a bus load of school children to remain silent for the entire time they are touring the Embassy. It's just not realistic!"

"Vulcan children would behave thusly."

"In case you hadn't noticed, Mr. Ambassador, you are ambassador to Earth, not Vulcan."

He arched a brow. She was challenging him, in that peculiar, verbally pugnacious way of hers. He considered the fact that he would not tolerate this sort of behavior from anyone else, with the possible exception of Soran, and Soran would never behave in such a way. No one but her. Why he granted her this unique dispensation, he was not entirely sure.

Amanda continued. "It's just not normal for Human children. You can ask them to behave quietly, of course, but to expect them to be utterly silent for an hour and a half is just not going to happen. No wonder the principal withdrew her request for a tour."

She looked up at him, eyes twinkling now with mischief. "You know, for one of our outings I could take you to visit a school, so you could see Terran kids in their native environment." She waited a beat. "But I don't think you could stand it."

He did not disappoint. He drew himself up before firmly responding, "I believe I would be equal to such a challenge."

Amanda's laughter filled the hallway. She got him. "I have no doubt that you are, Ambassador." She smiled, and was rewarded a moment later with a responding light in his eyes. Light that enticingly enhanced his aquiline good looks.

She had been teasing him, he realized, and he relaxed ever so slightly. Acknowledging that the point was hers with his eyes, he held her gaze for a moment. "Perhaps I shall modify my response to the principal. I believe our delegation could withstand hosting a tour of Human school children even if their behavior is not quite up to Vulcan standards."

"Very diplomatic of you, sir. Infinite diversity in infinite combinations?" she replied, eyes still twinkling.

Sarek maintained his steady gaze. "Indeed."

The desert

It had been an exceptionally cold and rainy late fall. Chilly layers of marine fog rolled over the city day after day. During the sunnier early fall, Amanda and Sarek had walked for hours in Golden Gate Park, but now the colder temperatures and higher humidity made Amanda reluctant to suggest they continue, knowing it had to be uncomfortable for Sarek. For a time she proposed indoor venues for their weekly excursions.

Then one day when they were scheduled for a repeat visit to the New Palace of Fine Arts, she came to his office, her eyes dancing with anticipation. "I have an alternative plan for today, if you're game."

"If I am—?"

"Game. Willing to try something. It's nothing outrageous, I promise!"

"I suppose I am willing to try something that is not outrageous. Where will we be going?"

"Back over to Golden Gate Park, but I won't make you walk around in the cold." Sarek raised his brows inquiringly, but she only laughed, "You'll have to wait. It's a surprise!"

"Surprises are illogical." She merely placed a finger over her lips and smiled conspiratorially over her shoulder as he accompanied her out the door.

Once they arrived at the park, Amanda piloted the flitter to the vast complex of buildings that housed the Academy of Sciences. Parts of it were several hundred years old, but others were quite new. She led them toward a more modern cluster of tall, domed structures, "Terran Biospheres" emblazoned over the cluster entrance. Once inside, they passed underneath a large wall mural depicting the major habitats found on Earth's surface, and entered a hall ringed by airlock-like entrances to adjoining domes. There were lines of people waiting to enter some of the domes, such as "Tropical Rainforest" and "Alpine Glacier," but the one Amanda led them to had no line: "Desert."

The attendant at the door took the pass Amanda handed him and momentarily looked askance at Sarek's long robes, then shrugged. "Please stay on the marked path. It will lead you through eight different desert habitats found on Earth. Take care to remain adequately hydrated. The exhibit closes at five o'clock. Water bottle or sunscreen tablet?" he offered. Amanda accepted both; Sarek declined.

As they stepped through the second door they were greeted with a warm, dry breeze. Amanda read from the display nearest them. "Southwestern North America, high desert. Current temperature 46.1 degrees Celsius, humidity 6%." She turned to him. "It's not quite Vulcan, but it's better than what you've been experiencing lately."

Sarek was momentarily taken aback. She had been thinking of his comfort in bringing him here? Before he could think of what to say she removed the light sweater that covered her sleeveless dress. "That's better," she breathed, taking a sip from her water bottle. Sarek studiously examined a group of plants to his left rather than gaze at her bared shoulders. "Are these plants carnivorous?" he asked while engaging his controls.

"No, those are succulents. Most carnivorous plants on Earth are found in wetter, tropical areas."

"Interesting. A significant portion of Vulcan's desert flora is carnivorous."

"Really! Tell me about it," Amanda responded and Sarek obliged as they walked, describing the similarities and differences between Vulcan's arid climate and the Earth desert areas represented in the exhibit. After a time, they paused at a bench and sat. Amanda chuckled as she drank from her water bottle. "I bet this bench doesn't get many visitors."

"Are you uncomfortable?"

"No," she smiled. "I'm not accustomed to the heat, but I'm adjusting."

They sat in silence for a moment, then Sarek spoke. "Thank you."

"For what, Sarek?"

"There was no logical reason for us to come here today, yet I find it... a welcome change."

Realizing he might be embarrassed by his admission, Amanda responded, "On the contrary, Ambassador, coming here was quite logical. It is beneficial to mutual cultural understanding to compare the physical habitats of our respective worlds, and while you could no doubt arrange an expedition to see all of these areas of Earth in person, this venue allows for efficient exploration in a short period of time." And I get to do it with you, she added silently.

Sarek dipped his head toward her in acknowledgment. "Then I commend your logic."

"I am honored."

They sat for a long time in comfortable silence, until the artificial sunset signaled closing time. In the atrium, Sarek’s security detail patiently waited.

Water, sand and waves

“Dehydration.”

“Drowning.”

“Heatstroke.”

“Hypothermia.”

“Large predators.”

“Large predators.”

“Sandstorms.”

“Tsunamis and hurricanes.”

“Carnivorous plants.”

“Poisonous fauna.”

“Suffocating,” she added, “under a collapsing sand dune.”

Sarek raised a skeptical brow. “I find that implausible.”

“It could happen!” Amanda insisted. “Well, anyway, you have to admit that deserts are at least as dangerous as oceans.”

Adopting his most serious negotiating pose, Sarek responded, “I will concede that a cursory and incomplete survey of hazards may suggest such, but I further contend that an analysis of actual per capita casualties will yield a more informative result.”

“Oh, pfft.” Amanda replied dismissively.

Sarek’s brows rose into his hair. “That is hardly a valid response.”

“You’re just afraid to come out on the bay with me in an actual boat,” Amanda declared, challenging him.

“I reject such an emotional characterization. Very well. I will accompany you on said boating expedition on the condition that you agree to a comparable desert trek.”

“I’ve been out in the desert before, though – the Mojave and the Sahara!”

It was Sarek’s turn to be dismissive. “They pale in comparison to the Forge. You must experience a Vulcan desert.”

“So you’re going to whisk me off to Vulcan, then?” she asked slyly, her mouth curving in a mischievous smile.

“That can be arranged.”

She was pretty sure he was teasing.

ooo

The expedition was borne out of that debate, and now Soran was asking himself why he hadn’t insisted that Stanek accompany the Kevet-dutar and Dr. Grayson instead. He sat, huddled in the back of a speedboat with Stell and Sporn, trying to quell the rising queasiness in his mid-section. The other two were there ostensibly as security for Sarek, but Soran noted grimly that they did not look in much better shape than he.

Amanda had piloted the small craft away from the dock and was now heading out into the middle of San Francisco Bay. Sarek watched with interest as she stood at the helm, clearly enjoying the salt spray and wind in her face, while he worked to overcome his own aversion to the large body of water. Her grin widened as they sped faster over the waves.

"Hovercraft just don’t do the ocean justice. This is the best way to really experience it," she said, "aside from actually swimming in it. But I wouldn't recommend that in San Francisco Bay; it's cold even for Humans." Sarek nodded, his gaze sweeping the shore.

"If you find yourself getting sea sick – motion sickness – it helps to keep your eyes fixed on land," Amanda offered to the group, noting Soran’s tight grip on the bench and rather ashen complexion.

"Vulcans do not experience motion sickness," Sarek intoned.

Maybe you don’t, she thought, but decided not to call attention to Soran’s plight.

Suddenly a huge swell rose off the ship's port side and slammed against the hull. Amanda saw it coming and kept her grip on the helm, but lost her balance when the boat slammed into the trough. Sarek saw the wave as well, and his strong hands caught her and steadied her with ease even as the boat continued to pitch.

In the split second between almost falling and landing against him, a million thoughts raced through Amanda's mind. The initial scare averted, she could not help but notice the lean hardness that supported her, or the corded strength of the arms that gripped her. She realized with a sudden shock that Sarek registered with her not only as a colleague and a Vulcan, but undeniably as a male as well. Very definitely a male. And he's a touch telepath, you idiot, she fumed at herself, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt her face flush red.

Sarek saw Amanda start to fall, and easily caught her when she tumbled toward him. He raised his mental barriers, but not before detecting a rapid jumble of emotions from her – surprise, embarrassment, attraction – Attraction? Analyzing his own reaction, he thought, Surprisingly, this experience is not intrusive; nor is it unpleasant…

Amanda pulled herself upright, although Sarek still maintained his steadying hold. "I'm sorry, Sarek – Ambassador – I—"

Sarek's eyes were unreadable but his voice was softer than expected. "There is no offense given where none is taken." For a moment their gazes locked, each staring at the other as if searching for something. The moment ended when Soran cleared his throat, obviously confused by his S’haile holding this Human female and doubting the propriety of it. Sarek did not acknowledge his aide but released Amanda. “You are unharmed, I presume?”

“Yes, definitely, thank you.” Amanda nodded and turned back to the water. A moment and a deep breath later, re-composed and satisfied that there were no vessels too close, she looked over at Sarek again. “Want to drive?”

“Yes,” Sarek answered without hesitancy, now more confident in their watercraft. Amanda thought she saw Soran’s head jerk up at that but had to focus instead on instructing her pupil.

“I believe I understand the requisite principles,” Sarek said calmly, placing his hand on the throttle. As the engine hummed louder he added, “It is similar to driving my hover bike.”

Amanda took a moment to visualize Sarek on a hover bike. Then she noticed how quickly Angel Island was rushing toward them. “Hmm, probably ought to ease off a little there, Ambassador.”

He inclined his head toward her. “I defer to your expertise.” He backed the throttle down and, after a moment, returned the controls to her. Amanda could tell he did so reluctantly. It’s fascinating to see this side of him…

“We can always come out here again, you know,” she told him.

“An interesting possibility,” Sarek returned. He stepped back slightly and studied her while she navigated some boat traffic. He was favorably inclined toward the idea of another such experience with Amanda. Her ease around and enjoyment of the water is novel and fascinating. Such a creature of her watery world – it is logical and consistent with the principles of IDIC to learn more about one so different. And holding her when she had almost fallen had not been disagreeable…

For his part, Soran thanked logic when they returned to dry land. Later, he and Stell and Sporn would discreetly visit Healer T’Alen seeking a remedy for the unexplained gastronomic distress resulting from this most curious outing.

Missed in translation

Amanda glanced up as Sarek entered the empty office that had been set up as a testing room for the translator. “Thank you for coming, Sarek. I appreciate being able to double-check my translations against yours.”

“Thanks are not needed, Amanda. It is logical to test the system before disseminating it more widely.”

“Well then, let’s see how this thing works, hmm?” Amanda gestured Sarek toward a seat across from her and handed him an earpiece. “We’ll start with just a few simple phrases that haven’t been directly programmed in and then we’ll take it from there.”

As she took her own spot she thought quickly of a phrase to start, a safe, standard Vulcan phrase. Thanks being necessary or not, I’m glad to see him… She spoke into the mic, ”I am gratified by your company.” That should be harmless enough.

Sarek listened for a moment and then Amanda saw his brows climb as he turned toward her. “’I am attracted to you’?” he recited back, questioning.

“What!” Amanda exclaimed, her face turning red. “That’s not what I said. The statement was ‘I am gratified by your company.’” Then she laughed. “I promise!” Although both statements are true, she thought.

Sarek remained expressionless, suppressing a sense of embarrassment himself. “Indeed. That is a most interesting result.”

“I think this needs more testing than we first thought.”

“We should attempt different parameters to determine if the results are similarly skewed. Perhaps, if you would allow me to examine some of the underlying code, I might be able to assist in identifying the source of the problem.”

“You would have time to do that?” Amanda asked, surprised and pleased by his offer, and relieved that he didn’t appear to be offended.

“I am able,” Sarek said simply, sitting down beside her so they could both look at her PADD together.

Vulcan embassy reception

A few nights later, Amanda walked back into the embassy after work. The Vulcan delegation was hosting a reception, and they had graciously included the translator team on the invitation list. Amanda came mostly out of curiosity, interested to see how their Vulcan hosts interacted with their diplomatic counterparts.

She was struck, first and foremost, by how quiet it was. There was no music or other entertainment, only murmured conversation, punctuated now and then by Human laughter. Vulcan receptions were, it seemed, relatively sober, business-like affairs, not surprisingly.

Sarek was conducting business in earnest, using the venue to engage his Human counterparts on the merits of the Centauri Accord and on other matters of Vulcan interest. Efficient as always, he had accomplished all but one of his desired objectives for the evening when his attention was diverted – Dr. Grayson was at the door, glancing about the room before stepping inside. He excused himself from the group he was with and met her there.

“Dr. Grayson, I am gratified by your company this evening,” he greeted her.

“And I, yours, Mr. Ambassador,” Amanda replied, eyes twinkling at the shared reference. His gaze lingered on her and one side of her mouth quirked upward, knowing his unasked question. “I was curious to see what goes on at a Vulcan Embassy reception,” she said as explanation for her presence, looking around again before returning her eyes to his. “Is that what you were curious about?”

“Indeed,” Sarek responded. She is perceptive. Perhaps I am also more transparent than I should be, he thought. Nonetheless, rather than being disturbed by her ready analysis of his mind-set, he was oddly gratified by it. Interesting…

“Curiosity is a fundamental driver of discovery. It is an admirable trait,” he continued. His voice was smooth and deep, and his eyes animated as he focused on her. “May I assist in satisfying your curiosity by introducing you to some of our guests?”

At first Amanda demurred, not wanting to distract him from entertaining his colleagues. Sarek responded earnestly, “I have already seen to those who require such. As for the rest, they are quite capable of entertaining themselves.” At that she laughed, deciding, it will be more pleasant enjoying his company while meeting people than it would be on my own. She allowed him to escort her from group to group.

When he introduced her to a group in conversation as a chief investigator for the Universal Translator, one of the group, a middle-aged man who seemed to wear a permanent scowl, raised his eyebrows. Amanda knew Simon Petit; he was the lead envoy from an Earth colony. Petit asked, “Well, Doctor, maybe you can explain to me why this supposedly ‘universal’ translator gadget isn’t a huge waste of money.”

Amanda smiled graciously. “It’s nice to see you, Mr. Petit. As you know, the Universal Translator is designed to enable beings that do not speak each other’s languages to communicate. The most recent tests of the translator’s algorithm’s have demonstrated a 98.9% accuracy so far in translating languages whose governing linguistic rules are known – and we’re working on that last 1.1%. And,” she added, “in addition to the intrinsic benefits of greater communication, the translator has a clear role to play in facilitating the commerce that the Centauri Accord will enable.”

The other members of the group nodded at her explanation. Petit merely rolled his eyes. “Is this your idea of a ‘one-two punch,’ Sarek?” he asked grumpily. A short while before, Sarek had succeeded in gaining Petit’s agreement that the Centauri Accord would benefit the envoy’s world and hence deserved support.

“I think not. Vulcans are a non-violent people as you know, Mr. Petit,” he answered, brows peaked, causing the other guests to laugh.

The pair excused themselves. Amanda was enjoying how Sarek demonstrated casual authority with his diplomatic colleagues, never aggressive in making his points but always in control of the situation. When she glanced at her chrono, she was shocked to see that she had been at the reception well past the time she had planned to be at home in bed.

She stopped him as they passed by the entrance to the reception hall. “Sarek, this has been a fascinating evening, but it’s time for me to go. Thank you for inviting me.”

"I understand, of course,” he replied, gazing down at her. “Since it is late, may I offer you the use of the embassy transporter?"

"Oh no, that's not necessary, but thank you. I'll be fine," she reassured him. "I'm glad I came." Her smile lingered on him for a moment before she turned away toward the cloakroom.

He nodded in acknowledgement, hands behind his back, eyes following her as she crossed the hallway, carefully controlling his sense of disquiet at allowing her to walk away, unescorted. The concern was illogical and primitive; she was not his, and she went home or to other engagements every evening this way.

At that, he should have turned back himself and returned inside. Instead he remained for a moment further, unnaturally rooted to the spot. It is not entirely logical, but it is within acceptable parameters… He comm’d Soran. A minute later, confident both that Soran would conduct that final piece of business and that he himself would return within an acceptable interval, he was striding down the corridor to intercept Amanda.

He caught up to her just at the embassy entrance. “Amanda.”

She looked up, not expecting to see him again.

He cleared his throat. “If you do not object, I would like to escort you home.”

A look of pleasant surprise quickly crossed her face before she protested, ”But your guests—”

“As I indicated before, my guests are quite capable of entertaining themselves by now,” Sarek replied gravely.

Amanda laughed again. Why do I find her laughter pleasing? Now she was speaking, a teasing lilt in her voice. “Well in that case, Mr. Ambassador, I would be delighted to have you escort me home.”

It was a pleasant walk to her apartment. Sarek was back at the reception before any of the other guests noticed his absence. And they both had enjoyed the evening’s interlude. I am gratified that she came.

Chapter 3: December, 2228

The Symphony

As it happened, one pleasant evening soon spawned another. She invited him to the symphony the next week. Some of her favorite European composers were going to be featured, and she had a hunch he would enjoy the music. It was a good opportunity for more cultural exchange, and Amanda was finding she genuinely enjoyed Sarek’s company.

She met him at the embassy before the performance. “It is agreeable to see you this evening, Amanda,” he greeted her.

“And likewise.” Amanda smiled warmly at him. They walked toward the symphony hall engrossed in pleasant conversation.

Later, as Sarek watched the instrumentalists on stage, Amanda was drawn to watching him. She noted how closely attuned he was to the music, how he nodded appreciatively at certain difficult passages, things a casual listener might not notice. As the orchestra approached a series of these in one piece, she noticed he had tilted his head back slightly and closed his eyes, inwardly focusing on the performance.

It struck her just how sensual his posture was. Her eyes traced the lines from his elegant ears to his strong jaw and down the tendons of his neck. He was… beautiful. And his nearly physical appreciation of the music stirred a reaction deep within her core.

She did not know how old he was – it was difficult to tell with Vulcans – although she had heard he was quite young to have been appointed as full ambassador. That did not seem to matter at the moment. Whatever his age, she had to admit to herself that she found him…sexy. Very.

Discomfited by the strength of her own response, she tried to quietly draw a deep breath as she looked back to the stage. Evidently that small sound was enough to draw Sarek’s attention, for he turned to look at her, a question in his eyes. Amanda smiled weakly back, hoping that he hadn’t noticed her staring at him. Somehow, in that private moment, she felt almost voyeuristic watching him so deeply absorbed.

Afterward, as they walked, her curiosity made her venture, "You seemed quite familiar with the music. Had you heard those selections before?"

"I have not. However, since the foundations of music are essentially mathematical, many of the musical forms and conventions of our two worlds are similar in important respects. Although," Sarek continued, “I find the music of Earth typically more emotional in nature than the music of Vulcan.”

Amanda giggled. “Human music, emotional? So what’s your point? Although I notice with your choice of words you aren’t saying that Vulcan music is unemotional. Am I right?”

“One will occasionally encounter compositions that appear to possess emotional content. It is carefully controlled, however…”

Their banter continued all the way back to her apartment, beginning a series of regular outings to a variety of musical venues.

Golden Gate Park

Amanda and Sarek walked through Golden Gate Park the next day at lunch, discussing the latest volume of Vulcan literature that he had given her. They were on the other side of the pond from the embassy when the sky darkened with a sudden autumn squall. Very soon it would be raining steadily.

"I guess we'll have to head back inside," she said to Sarek, assuming that he would not wish to remain out in these conditions. "Although I did bring an umbrella," she added, then regretted that she had, as she imagined the two of them trying to squeeze underneath it. To her surprise and dismay, Sarek replied. "That would be acceptable. There is no need to change our plans."

Amanda groaned a little inside. Could he not have realized that we will be practically on top of one another under my umbrella? Sure, she found him attractive, and might have welcomed the situation were he a Human male, but he was Vulcan and she sincerely doubted he would find the close quarters appropriate.

Thinking quickly as the first big drops began to fall, she handed Sarek the umbrella and flipped up the hood on her jacket, maintaining the space between them. But the rain was soon falling at an angle as the wind picked up, hitting her squarely in the face.

Noting the situation immediately, Sarek stopped. “Amanda, attend.” He stood with the umbrella held out, expectantly. Her eyes widened slightly at his commanding tone but she complied; she was getting soaked.

Once underneath, Amanda decided she was the one who found their proximity inappropriate. His broad shoulders combined with the umbrella’s limited diameter put them close enough that they were practically touching. She could smell his scent, hinting of musk and sandalwood, could feel the heat radiating from his body, and could feel her own pulse hammer with her self-consciousness. What she really wanted to do was move closer, not further away. A stolen sideways glance told her that he at least did not appear perturbed (although who knew, really?). Seeing no viable alternative, she decided she might as well accept the situation, and she relaxed a bit. It’s not exactly unpleasant.

Sarek glanced down at Amanda’s head just in front of him. He had sensed her unease and now, greater calm. He, too, relaxed somewhat, his stride finding a cadence that was comfortable for them both. It is logical that I protect her from the rain.

Another hour passed before they turned back toward the embassy.

ooo

Once back inside their amiable conversation continued until they reached Sarek’s office where Soran was waiting for him. Amanda excused herself and was headed back to her own office when Sarek realized he was still holding her umbrella.

“Amanda, att—“ he began but stopped himself at once. “Dr. Grayson. Your umbrella,” he re-phrased carefully, stepping to return it to her. Soran looked at him curiously for a moment, but said nothing.

A moment later, two completely drenched guards made their way inside the embassy lobby, in search of dry attire and some understanding of why the interaction between their superior and the Human researcher required such a thorough soaking.

Security

Two nights later a brick crashed through a ground floor window at the embassy. The Vulcan Embassy was housed in an older building, and apparently not all of the original glass windows had been replaced with transglass. No one was injured and the security alarms performed as specified. Stanek and his team went on alert, however. The brick had been wrapped in a piece of paper scrawled with the words “Universal Translator” and “Centauri” inside a red circle with a diagonal line through it. It did not take the Vulcan delegation long to ascertain the symbol’s meaning, and the security team quickly outlined the logical steps to take in response.

The next morning Stanek arrived at an unexpected roadblock to the implementation of his plans.

“I do not agree that every member of the Universal Translator team needs to be trailed at all times by a security guard!” Amanda fumed.

“Dr. Grayson,” Stanek began, “it is logical. There was an attack on the embassy with hostility directed toward the Universal Translator as well as the Centauri Accord. It stands to reason that additional security for the device’s development team is a wise precaution.”

“Stanek, a single brick is not ‘an attack,’” Amanda replied in exasperation. “It was probably a stupid prank, or somebody’s drunken outburst. I certainly won’t stop anyone else on the team who wants a security escort, but I don’t think it’s necessary and I don’t want one.”

“But Doctor, you are one of the principal researchers. I must insist on it.”

“You can’t force me to—“ Amanda began, then stopped when she saw Stanek’s self-confident look. “Oh no you don’t. Come on. We’re going to settle this right now!” She strode purposefully out of her office with Stanek trailing behind, confused.

“Doctor?”

“I want to hear what Sarek has to say about this,” Amanda declared firmly.

“Doctor, we can make an appointment to see the Kevet-dutar, but I doubt he will see us immediately,” Stanek objected. One did not simply barge into Sarek’s office.

“Oh, I bet he’ll see us,” Amanda replied confidently.

Stanek was befuddled by the Human linguist. She possessed the same facts as he, yet appeared to draw completely different conclusions from the data. She did not behave logically.

Sarek was on a vid conference when he heard the voices in his outer office. He recognized Amanda and Stanek, both speaking to Sev. Amanda sounded…agitated? The voices continued until his call ended, at which point Sev immediately comm’d him. “S’haile, there is a matter that requires your attention.”

Sarek stepped into the outer office. “What is the issue?”

Stanek, appearing somewhat surprised to see his superior right away, spoke first. “S’haile, Doctor Grayson is refusing an appropriate security detail in spite of the logic of it, in light of recent events.”

“The logic of it is what I’m disputing,” came Amanda’s spirited rebuttal. “The translator team has done nothing wrong; we don’t deserve to have our movements restricted. Especially not for something as trivial as a rock through a window.”

“It was an act of aggression.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Amanda cried, throwing her hands in the air. “This is Earth, you know. I realize it’s a bit more chaotic than Vulcan, but it’s not a war zone. Thankfully, it’s not a police state, either – and I don’t want to feel like I’m working in one!”

“I believe I understand the problem,” Sarek interjected calmly, deflecting a curious impulse to go to Amanda’s side. “I am being asked to broker yet another peace agreement, correct?” he drily asked the combatants. Focusing on the security chief, he asked, “Stanek, what patterns have you and T’Vey analyzed in the most recent media scans?”

“Although local metropolitan media remain largely unchanged, in outlying areas over the past three Terran weeks there has been an increase of 23.24% in negative editorial attention being focused on the Universal Translator and Vulcan’s involvement with it,” Stanek informed him. “In addition, negative popular opinion toward the Centauri Accord, which was also identified in the attack, has remained relatively steady during this time at 35.7% of the population opposed.”

Amanda appeared ready to debate the merits of this particular point as well but Sarek held up a hand. “A moment, Doctor. Stanek, do you have any information as to the likely perpetrator of the yesterday’s incident?”

“Not at this time, S’haile. We have turned the evidence over to the local authorities; they are assisting. The known list of groups expressing opposition to either the translator or the accord will of course be considered, in addition to any new possibilities we identify.”

“Your work is commendable, Stanek.” Sarek nodded, dismissing the aide. He then turned to Amanda. “Perhaps we could have a word?” he inquired graciously.

Not long after, Amanda re-emerged from Sarek’s office fairly sure she had become the latest victim of Sarek’s silver diplomatic tongue. Although curiously, she really didn’t mind. A little added security, outside the embassy and primarily at night, wouldn’t be overly intrusive and wouldn’t hurt, especially since an untoward occurrence would reflect poorly on the translator team’s Vulcan hosts. He had asked her to meet with him over dinner later in the week to review the editorial trends that T’Vey and Stanek had been tracking. She was looking forward to the added insight. Overall, it seemed a reasonable compromise.

A few hours later, Stanek’s expression could have been called incredulous, if he were not a Vulcan of course, as he explained the outcome of his security discussion with Dr. Grayson to T’Vey. “She was adamantly opposed to any additional security. Osu Sarek merely asked her to consider the matter, and she agreed. Sarek did not present her with any additional facts, yet her opinion changed dramatically when she spoke with him. I do not understand these Humans.”

“Perhaps that is why Osu Sarek is the kevet-dutar,” T’Vey surmised.

For his part, Sarek was satisfied. Additional security would be provided to the translator team, including Amanda; Amanda was not displeased (a situation he found surprisingly unpleasant); and she would be joining him for dinner in three nights’ time… to discuss the need for additional security, of course. All very logical outcomes.

Terran Holidays I

Amanda smiled bemusedly as she looked around the Universal Translator office. It was only 1700 hours, but the departmental holiday party was already in full swing. Some joker (Rob, probably) had hung mistletoe in every doorway. As she observed the rum-and-eggnog-fueled revelry going on about her, she had no doubt that any number of regrettable incidents would occur before the evening was over – hopefully none that would disgrace their Vulcan hosts. She, however, had plans to escape; she had promised to show Sarek a variety of holiday traditions from different Earth cultures on display around the city tonight.

She grabbed her coat and was saying her good-byes when she noticed that he’d arrived, standing a bit uncertainly at the office entrance, not sure what to make of the scene within. He saw her, and took a step inside. Then she realized where he was standing – underneath one of the innocent-looking green sprigs. Worse, Charlene from reception – who had been patrolling these doorways all afternoon – was making a beeline in his direction.

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

They were walking out now, and she continued 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-18^th century in English-speaking Europe and North America.”

“I see.” Sarek contemplated the Human practice of kissing. It was not Vulcan. What would it be like to kiss her? Then, deadpan, he asked, “Are all of the traditions we are going to observe tonight of a similar theme?”

“No!” she exclaimed, instantly embarrassed. Then she caught his eye and saw he was teasing. “You!” She slapped at his arm in jest. “Would you like it if they were?” she added, now teasing him. He arched an elegant brow again and resumed walking, eyes unreadable. Something told her, though, that while it would have been un-Vulcan of him to say yes, he definitely had not said no.

They walked through the city that evening, Amanda his tour guide, his security detail following discreetly behind (a fact for which Sarek was illogically grateful). As they explored the many Human holiday celebrations on display, Sarek found them interesting, but found his guide far more so. Her mannerisms, the enthusiasm with which she recounted the history behind the various traditions they observed, the way her eyes brightened when she looked at him… He was, not for the first time, fascinated. As he had noted before, she was quite different than he, but their common interests were also many and varied. Sarek, so accustomed to leading, planning and anticipating, just followed that night, quite satisfied with simply accompanying her.

For Amanda’s part, she was once again thoroughly charmed by her companion’s gracious and elegant attention. As the evening progressed, she imagined him as some long-ago prince – and then promptly chided herself for such a ridiculous flight of fancy. Even so, she did notice that his attentiveness never wavered as they wandered, and she basked in its warm glow.

Terran Holidays II

She had gone away for the Christmas holiday. She had returned to the Boston area to spend it with a close friend from Harvard, she had told him. While in previous years Sarek had welcomed the quiet that descended for a few days in San Francisco during the frenetic winter holiday season, this year it proved a bit too subdued. As he meditated on this unexpected assessment he discovered the source of his disquiet was, in fact, her absence. He realized he looked forward to her daily presence, the sound of her laughter in the halls. This was, of course, illogical, and he meditated further on that, although not wholly successfully – an uncharacteristic result for him.

Thus, on the morning of the 28^th, still disquieted and now further irritated at his failure to eradicate the feeling, Sarek was contemplating visiting the embassy gym for a longer-than-usual session when he heard footsteps in the hall. He recognized those footfalls immediately.

He arose from his desk as soon as her face peeked around his door. “Amanda. It is agreeable to see you here.”

“Hi, and Merry Christmas.” She smiled, almost shyly. “I came back a couple days early. I had things to do and Marcia was busy with work…”

“Indeed.” He tilted his head in inquiry. “Today is one of our usual lunch days. You will join me?”

“Of course. I didn’t want to miss it.”

The disquiet was gone.

Chapter 4: January, 2229

New Year’s Dance

When Sarek invited Amanda to attend the Terran Embassy's New Year’s celebration, she wasn't sure what to expect. She had been surprised and pleased at his invitation, even given his logical rationale for it. “There will be representatives from the other embassies now testing the translator,” he had said. “This event provides an opportunity to learn of their opinions unofficially, which you might find useful.”

With warmth in her eyes, she had replied, “I appreciate that, Sarek. I would be honored to be your guest."

"It is I who am honored," he had returned, his soft voice oddly incongruous with his businesslike manner, before he strode away.

This was the first public function they had officially attended together. Reporters snapped holopics of them along with numerous other attendees, so she didn’t think anything of it. It was, of course, a festive event, and Amanda enjoyed seeing many colleagues from her Universal Translator work. Sarek also introduced her to numerous diplomats and Federation officials as he had done at the Vulcan Embassy.

Later, as she suspected might happen, the members of the Vulcan delegation stood to the side when the dance music began after dinner.

"Care to dance?" Amanda asked lightly.

"I am unfamiliar with Terran dance forms," came Sarek’s somber reply.

"And you, a diplomat!" she exclaimed. "Well, we'll have to fix that. Maybe not here and now, however," she added, as he stiffened almost imperceptibly. Since when have I learned to read his tiny tells?

“I do not understand the purpose of this practice at a diplomatic event,” he stated flatly.

“Dance exists as a social custom for many reasons. In this context, it facilitates people mixing and communicating in a new way, it’s a refreshing change after an evening of standing and sitting, and it’s fun.”

“Fun?” He quirked a sceptical brow at her.

“Yes, fun.” She met his challenging gaze with amusement. “As in entertaining, diverting, recreational. You should try it some time.”

“When I have leisure time I have numerous pursuits that are more productive than gyrating to Terran music.”

Amanda was about to retort when a Federation Linguistics colleague with whom she’d been chatting earlier appeared. “Amanda, would you like to dance?”

Amanda glanced at Sarek. “Sure, Jeff. Sarek, do you mind?”

“I do not,” he replied gravely.

As they walked to the dance floor the music changed from traditional ballroom to a more pulsing rhythm. “Now that’s more like it!” Jeff exclaimed as they began to move to the rhythmic beat.

Sarek remained with his delegation for a few minutes. He overheard Soran and T’Vey comment on the ‘uncontrolled’ nature of the current type of dance, and his eyes strayed back to Amanda. They widened ever so slightly as he watched her twist and undulate to the music’s insistent beat. She obviously possesses good muscle tone. The result was not so much uncontrolled in her case, he thought, as distracting…

He pulled his eyes away, deciding that this would be a logical time to conclude the conversations regarding the Centauri Accord that he had begun earlier with Terran Ambassador Alfonso Singh and the Federation attorney general, Arne Stewart. The Earth government had raised some issues regarding definitions of trade terms that Vulcan found objectionable, and he was in the midst of expeditiously removing those obstacles.

When he looked up again a few minutes later, Sarek saw that Amanda was dancing with someone new. He heard her laugh, and saw the beads of sweat collecting along her collarbone. He found it very hard to look away, and he did not like the fact that she was not with him.

He heard Singh’s voice next to him. “Bring a beautiful young woman like that to an event like this, and it is a constant battle to keep her attention.” His Terran counterpart nodded at him knowingly, and Sarek had the disconcerting thought that the other ambassador had been observing Amanda a bit too closely for his taste. Sarek maintained his impassive expression while he cleared his mind of the illogical thoughts that abruptly flooded in. At the next break in the music, however, he was at Amanda’s side with a drink and an offer to walk outside.

“Whew!” Amanda said, fanning herself as they walked. “It’s hot on the dance floor. Thank you for the drink,” she said gratefully, looking up at him.

Sarek was gratified to have enticed her away from the dancing. He also noticed how her slightly flushed complexion enhanced her aesthetic appeal. Driving away the disturbing thoughts yet again he re-focused on what she was saying.

“… so I imagine you have to put up with an awful lot of illogical celebrations like this as part of your diplomatic duties?”

“Attending a large number of social functions does ‘come with the territory,’ so to speak. And as to whether they are logical or illogical, it is of no matter. What to one serves no purpose is sacred to another. It is important to appreciate our differences.”

She smiled at him appreciatively. “Yes, I suppose that’s true.” She was about to say something else when movement and sound from inside caught her attention. “Oh look!” she exclaimed. “It’s almost midnight – time for the balloon drop!”

As they moved back toward the crowd inside, Amanda paused at the door, looking back up at Sarek. “Perhaps we should watch from here. It’s going to be very loud.”

“Ah, yes,” he replied, recalling previous such events. He inclined his head. “Thank you.” He also appreciated remaining in semi-privacy with her.

Sure enough, the countdown to midnight began with the crowd chanting louder and louder until the hour struck and cacophony ensued, guests cheering, noisemakers blasting and music blaring. Many people hugged or clapped one another on the back, and couples kissed.

Sarek wondered again what it would be like to kiss Amanda. Such an action would be most inappropriate in public, however. He remained still, ostensibly watching the festivities inside. Amanda stole a sideways glance at Sarek. She’d like to give him a kiss, even if only the cheek – purely to celebrate the New Year’s tradition, of course. But she thought the better of it, and remained where she was.

Metal

It was after eleven p.m. when Sarek walked down the long flight of stairs from his office. He was about to turn toward the personal quarters section when he detected a faint but persistent sound, a vibration really, coming from further below. Curious, he continued down to the ground floor. The vibration resolved itself into a regular, heavy beat; it was evidently a form of music, although one he was unfamiliar with. His ears picked out the dominant sounds of percussion, heavy stringed instruments, and harsh-sounding vocals. Following the sound took him to the Universal Translator group’s offices, and by the time he reached them, it was quite loud. He entered the work area, and saw that only the lights in Amanda’s office were lit.

As he drew closer, he could see her inside, forcefully re-arranging piles of books, PADDs and data chips, as well as larger boxes, all while jerking her head to the strident, ear-splitting music, mouthing some of the words. It was obviously not a soothing experience; her jaw was clenched and she looked both angry and sad.

Sarek did not wish to intrude upon a private moment yet he was concerned for her wellbeing. He moved into the open doorway and Amanda jumped in surprise. “Sarek!” she exclaimed, scattering a stack of data chips on the floor as she hastily attempted to turn down the music from her PADD.

Sarek stepped into her office. “I did not intend to startle you, Amanda, although you undoubtedly did not hear my approach. My apologies. Are you well?”

She took in his concerned expression and smiled wanly. “I’m physically fine, yes. I’m sorry for the loud music. I thought everyone was gone for the evening. It’s a genre that I haven’t shared with you – it tends to be best experienced when it’s almost deafening.”

Sarek merely tilted his head, waiting for more, and she relented. When had he gotten so good at reading what I don’t say? She took a deep breath and said quietly, “My parents died six years ago tonight.”

He had not known she had suffered such a loss. “You are grieving then?” he asked gently.

“I guess I am. Although,” she added, looking around, “this isn’t a typical Human grieving ritual.”

“That fact does not matter, if what you do helps you find peace.” He declared solemnly, “I grieve with thee.”

“Thank you, Sarek; I appreciate that,” Amanda responded, grateful for his words. Then she shrugged. “I’ve done something like this for the past six years. I’m not sure it’s helping me find peace, though. More likely this is how I express my anger at the universe for taking them from me.” She was silent for a long minute, struggling with unshed tears. “I’m sorry,” she finished awkwardly.

“It is I who intruded,” he answered. “Would you prefer to be alone at this time?”

“No, actually,” Amanda replied honestly. “But I don’t want to keep you—”

“Sometimes the best way we can remember those who have gone before us is to recall them to others,” Sarek offered. “Would you care to tell me about your parents?”

Amanda gave him her first real smile of the evening. For a man who could be so austere and reserved in public, he also could be astonishingly sensitive. “I’d like that very much. Can I get you some tea?”

“Tea would be acceptable.”

She talked of her parents until the early morning, when he insisted on driving her home.

ooo

Later, as she reflected on that late night, Amanda realized that he had breached a wall that no one else in recent memory had. Amanda had a history of building walls around herself for protection, as ancient cities used to do. She had a history of building walls because she also had a very sad history of people close to her leaving: her parents when she was sixteen; her grandparents before that; and her first love in high school, who left because he wasn’t able to handle her turmoil at the loss of her parents.

So she built walls, a Human Jericho, to keep enough distance to minimize getting hurt. Amanda was always very sociable with friends, colleagues and dates; she was simply very cautious about who she let in to see her true self and its vulnerabilities.

Sarek was different from everyone else she had encountered. As their friendship evolved, she came to perceive him as someone who would neither invade her privacy uninvited nor judge without understanding. And she believed he wouldn’t do so only to then leave, physically or otherwise. Perhaps this was due to his Vulcan sensibilities, or perhaps it was simply Sarek himself. But in any case, Amanda found him…safe. She allowed him in.

Chapter 5: February, 2229

Dinners and Receptions

Following the Terran Embassy New Year’s Ball, Sarek began to ask Amanda to accompany him to numerous diplomatic events. She mixed easily with other guests, was conversant in a variety of languages and topics, and was able to put others at ease in a way that Sarek often found he could not. Further, Sarek found the dinners and receptions they attended together to be much more tolerable – enjoyable, even – than he typically found such functions to be. They quickly became a regular pair on the diplomatic circuit, and if anyone raised an eyebrow at the Vulcan ambassador’s unorthodox choice of guest, they did so outside of his presence.

The press followed them; but then, many who attended such events with any regularity were followed by the press. Once they showed up in a set of gossip column holos of “couples out on Valentine’s Day.” They had been at an Andorian reception, and took no notice.

Amanda occasionally fielded the intrusive question here or there, but always deflected such inquiries firmly. “We’re colleagues and friends. That’s all.” More than once, though, she happened to refer to him as “charming,” and earned a skeptical or surprised look in return. Since when had the Vulcan ambassador become charming, or was Dr. Grayson experiencing a side of Sarek that others did not frequently see?

The Vulcan embassy staff noted that the kevet-dutar regularly brought the Terran linguist to diplomatic events now rather than attend alone, as he had in the past. While there was some logic to seeking Human accompaniment while attending these often Human-dominated events, there was an ongoing debate within the delegation as to why their superior sought to apply such reasoning only now, but had not before, when the circumstances of the events had not changed. The staff also observed that the kevet-dutar spent more time at these events when Dr. Grayson was with him. Presumably his insight into Human culture was sufficiently augmented with her assistance that it justified the additional time commitment.

Literature and Philosophy

As winter progressed, they continued to work on translations together, now including both Terran and Vulcan literature, and their session often transitioned into lively debates of interpretation. This day found them debating Surakian philosophy as they were finishing lunch. “So I understand the normative judgment that forces which increase entropy should be avoided or discouraged,” Amanda was saying, “but it seems to me that Surak’s distinction between emotions which increase entropy and those which don’t, and are therefore tolerable, is fairly arbitrary.”*

“Indeed. How so?” Sarek glanced up from his mug of tea, intrigued.

“Well, for example, Surak calls out both love and hate as emotions which could increase entropy. I certainly see the rationale for hate, but love? If compassion is acceptable, why not love? That doesn’t make sense to me.”

“First, a distinction. Surak’s precepts demand that one not allow one’s emotions to increase entropy, or chaos, and instead to master those emotions so that they can be used to slow its progress. This is quite different from demanding that one never experience those emotions. We do experience them. What is crucial is how that experience is manifested. Second, I would posit that Surak does not simply advocate against all emotion, but rather specifies that we cast out emotion that results in harm, even unintentional harm. Sometimes love does cause harm.”

Sarek continued. “Take, for example, your Romeo and Juliet, a work rife with examples of emotional excess. The entire tragedy could have been avoided if the two protagonists had not allowed their professed love to precipitate a series of unfortunate actions.”

“But it wasn’t their love that caused the tragedy,” Amanda protested, “it was the hateful behavior of their family members! Plus a lot of miscommunication. That’s what makes the story tragic.”

“That may be the case,” Sarek cautiously allowed, “but it does not eliminate the concern of Surak. Even in philosophy, one must take cultural and biological realities into account. While the Shakespearean moral of celebrating love while disavowing hate may work acceptably for Humans, Vulcans experience such emotions differently, and more intensely. If the characters in Romeo and Juliet had been ancient Vulcans, I daresay the circle of destruction would have been far wider. Similar to the Terran observation that one does not have the right to yell ‘Fire!’ in a crowded theater, so Surak admonishes against the expression of emotions which can cause volatile reactions.”

Amanda was by now quite well read in Pre-Reform Vulcan history, and she understood his point. Still, she couldn’t help but feel sad for the apparent constraints it implied for his life, even if it made sense for the lives of Vulcans in general. She couldn’t restrain herself from asking the question, “So it is improper to express emotion even to someone you love?”

Sarek considered his words before speaking, and Amanda noticed a tension in the room that had not been there before. “Surak does allow for some such… expression,” he admitted. “However, propriety must be carefully observed.” Why does it seem that I am already at the boundary of propriety when I speak of these things with her?

“I see,” she said. I wonder what Vulcan propriety looks like regarding the expression of love? But she would muse on that later. Both not willing to concede the debate to him and wanting to lighten the mood, she leaned forward with a sly grin. “But I still disagree that Shakespeare’s tragedies justify Surak’s case for the non-expression of emotion – and I’m not convinced yet that Surak was wholly in favor of the abolition of love. More importantly, though, are you in fact saying that, had the characters in Romeo and Juliet been Vulcan, they would have made more of a mess of things than the Humans did?”

Just then Soran arrived for Sarek’s next meeting.

“You fail to grasp the finer points of my argument,” Sarek countered, joining her verbal challenge.

“That,” Amanda declared smugly, “is just a diplomatic way of admitting that your argument isn’t clear!”

“And that,” he rejoined, “is simply an emotional ploy designed to deflect attention from your lack of an effective rebuttal.”

At the momentary impasse in this curious debate, Soran cleared his throat. “S’haile, the Tellarite delegation has arrived.”

“Perfect!” Amanda declared, smiling as she breezed out, “After me, the Tellarites will seem like pushovers! Á bientôt...”

Sarek watched her leave, a faint hint of amusement in his expression.

Play

They met one weekend afternoon after a week in which Sarek’s schedule of meetings away from the embassy had kept them from meeting at all. They had agreed to meet in Golden Gate Park, and when he found her, Amanda was dressed in tights and a long-sleeved running shirt and carrying a curved plastic disk with blinking lights and a small control unit.

Sarek’s curiosity came to the fore and after they exchanged greetings, he asked about the unit. “We use the flyer to play games,” she said by way of explanation. “A group of us get together here every weekend to play rugby or soccer, or games like ‘Capture the Flag’ or ‘Keep Away’ with this.”

“Indeed,” Sarek replied, wanting to examine the disk more closely. “How does it operate?”

“It’s programmed to fly back to its control unit after taking one of a variety of flight paths.” An impulse overcame Amanda and she grinned impishly. “Let me demonstrate. In ‘Keep Away,’ for example, I have it,” she waved the flyer, “and my goal is to keep you from getting it.” With that she let the disk fly into the air and began slowly jogging backward in the opposite direction with the control. She added, “Your objective, if you were to be playing, should be fairly obvious,” as she continued moving away.

Sarek stood still for a moment, considering his next action in this unfamiliar situation. The flyer was now high above the treetops, so pursuing it was not an option at the moment. So that meant he was supposed to… pursue Amanda? The logic of the activity was decidedly questionable. Still, he had not refused her obvious invitation.

As soon as she released the flyer, Amanda stifled a giggle. Just what was she thinking, trying to engage Sarek in a game like this? If she were honest with herself, she’d have to admit it was absurdly flirtatious behavior. But lo and behold – she looked behind her and saw him start in her direction, walking at first and then jogging – he’s decided to play along. Adrenaline rushing through her veins, she bolted a zigzag path through the deserted section of the park and then dodged behind a tree. Even though she was out of breath, she did her best to remain silent in her hiding place.

She was totally unprepared when a hand came down on her shoulder a second later. “Sarek!” she yelped.

“My apologies,” he replied with a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Was I seeking the wrong object?” he asked innocently. I find this Human game inexplicably stimulating.

Amanda blushed. Before she could answer, though, her eyes widened as she saw the disk hurtling down toward them, homing in on its target in her hands. She was quite amazed when, without taking his eyes off her, Sarek reached out with one hand and caught the flyer. “These,” he said, pointing to one of his ears in response to her astonished expression, “are not just for looks as I believe your Terran phrase goes.”

She laughed. “My heart is beating double-time, thanks to you!” she exclaimed as she put a hand over her heart, feeling it beat wildly. And not just because I’ve been running, she thought.

“Since my resting heartbeat is 236 beats per minute, mine is no doubt beating much faster than yours at this moment,” he said, and then, after focusing momentarily on his own heart, thrumming away near the bottom of his ribcage, he stepped much closer to Amanda and tilted his head, listening. “A difference of 64 beats per minute. Not that different after all,” he concluded quietly.

Sarek surprised himself. Their brief game had been stimulating, but… Why am I being so forward with her? She is Human; I am Vulcan. And this is improper in any case, for I am male and she is female and we are not bonded. Isn’t it? He had to admit he wasn’t sure.

Amanda blushed again, this time feeling rather naked at his ability to discern her heartbeat so easily, and wondered at the unexpectedly… playful? ambassador. They were in close proximity again, and she had to admit she liked it. Do I just imagine the magnetism that I feel from him?

Now feeling breathless for a different reason, she looked up at him teasingly again. “After chasing me around the park, do you still feel like talking about translations of ancient literature?”

“Always,” he responded simply, pulling the data chip he had planned to give her from his pocket. They began to walk.

And as they walked, Sarek thought. Such a fascinating creature, possessing such contradictory capabilities and desires – just as capable of devising brilliant linguistic theories as losing herself in pounding Terran music, as facile debating Surak’s philosophy as enticing me into a game of pursuit across a park. I find such qualities surprisingly… desirable.

Dream

The room was pitch black, but he easily homed in on the female’s familiar scent and the almost imperceptible sounds of her breathing. He slid down next to her, skimming his hands over her soft skin. Gently pulling her toward him, he buried his face at the base of her neck while his sensitive fingertips sought hers. “K’diwa,” he murmured. Their fingers joined, then hands, their bodies brushing together; he was quickly aroused. He longed for her. As he arched his body over hers, suddenly, from somewhere there was enough light that he could see her face clearly. He froze. It was Amanda.

Sarek awoke with a jolt. He had been dreaming – vividly. He consciously slowed his breathing and then lay back, methodically calming his body from its aroused state. His mind was still quite unsettled. He did not normally dream, and this, this was… disturbing. He could tell that this was not the beginning of the Fever, but he was at a loss to explain it. It was barely 0200 hours, but he swung his legs over the side of the sleeping platform. He would meditate for the rest of the night.

Across the city, Amanda tossed fitfully in her sleep. Then, softly she moaned.

Protectiveness

The meeting with Andorian Ambassador Shras would begin in thirty-eight minutes. Always impeccably on time, Sarek and Soran strode toward the front of the embassy and the awaiting hovercar. As they reached the ground floor, a faint sound of voices carried to Sarek’s discerning ears from the garden hallway. Was that –? He paused, then turned toward his aide.

“A moment, Soran. I will join you in the flitter.” Soran continued and Sarek turned toward the Universal Translator offices. He thought he had heard Amanda’s voice, raised. As he turned the corner and could see into her office, he saw an unknown male standing in front of her desk. Just then Amanda rose abruptly. It was clear from her manner that she was perturbed.

As his long strides quickly drew him near he heard Amanda say with exasperation, “Michael, I’ve already told you I don’t want to see you anymore. To come here, especially unannounced, is inappropriate—” This male is harassing her. The wave of protectiveness that surged in him at that moment was powerful – and undeniably accompanied by an equally strong wave of possessiveness. This rival must be removed. Cloaking the primal thoughts with a veneer of civilized authority, Sarek stepped just inside Amanda’s office.

“Amanda, is everything all right here?”

Amanda looked up coolly. “Of course, Ambassador. Michael was just leaving.” She gazed pointedly at the man.

Michael looked like he was about to object when Sarek interjected, “Sir, I will point out that in this embassy you stand on Vulcan soil and are subject to Vulcan law. The penalties for harassment and trespassing are harsh. Do you need to be escorted out?”

Amanda glanced at him, surprised by the edge in his voice. “That’s all right, thank you, Mr. Ambassador; I was just going to show him out.” She added, “I’m fine,” for Sarek’s benefit. I can handle this.

“I am going that way also. I will accompany you.” A statement, not an offer. What is up with him?

Amanda tried not to think that Sarek practically stalked Michael all the way to the front entrance, although she did notice that he stayed between her and the other Human the entire time. He barely hung back as she and Michael exchanged stiff farewells.

Her unwanted guest gone, Amanda turned back to Sarek. “Thank you, Sarek, but you do know I can handle this sort of thing myself, don’t you?” Before he could respond she added, “Excuse me for asking, but are you all right?” She didn’t miss that he held his body more stiffly than usual, his eyes were slightly narrowed and his nostrils ever so slightly flared.

With her question, Sarek’s dark expression immediately vanished, as if he had just realized its presence. “Of course, I am well. Have I offended you? If I have, I ask forgiveness.” He was as calm, urbane and polished as ever.

Amanda smiled, and decided to let it go. “None is taken. I’ll see you later.”

Sarek finally turned toward the waiting hovercar. They would now be five point four minutes late, he projected. He would have to collect his thoughts along the way.

Soran watched Sarek with concern. He had observed the Human male depart, and could read the agitation in Sarek’s demeanor. He also noticed the calming breath his friend took before entering the hovercar.

“S’haile,” he began, “may I be of assistance in some way?”

“Do not concern yourself, Soran. It is of no consequence.” Sarek focused his eyes on some undetermined point, thus ending the conversation. He was quite concerned himself, however. Intellectual attraction was acceptable. Physical attraction simply had to be controlled. Possessiveness was another matter entirely, for it signified more complicated things.

Distraction

If disgust were an admissible emotion, Sarek would be disgusted. His thoughts swirled as he tried to meditate. His disciplines were failing him; his impulses concerning this Human female were wholly unacceptable. Why did Amanda continuously occupy his thoughts, invading his mind unbidden, and at the most inopportune times? He could not concentrate, and meditation failed him. Her face swam in his consciousness just out of reach, and he found it both maddening and inexplicable. I do not need to mate, it is not my Time, and yet my thoughts are most inappropriate.

Sarek wondered what it was that caused him to be so drawn to this Human. He searched fruitlessly for a logical reason. Perhaps his unbonded status left him overly susceptible to female attraction. But he had reviewed the dossiers of literally dozens of eligible Vulcan females, and had met many of them in person; yet despite all of their undeniably desirable and logically positive characteristics, he had been drawn to none of them.

And now he found himself thoroughly preoccupied by the existence of an emotional, alien female. No, it was not simply the fact that he was unbonded and in need of a mate. He was attracted to something intrinsic about her.

Of course it was not love, for Sarek thought nothing of that, other than it was an illogical, Human emotion. Further, had it been described to him, he would have considered the concept of “love at first sight,” or anything of the sort, to be simply absurd, a double exercise in illogic. Nonetheless, this Human woman remained in the foreground of his thoughts. He wanted.

A realization began to dawn in Sarek’s mind, an almost forbidden thought thrusting itself past the edges of his consciousness. He felt an inexplicable tightening in his chest when he thought of Amanda. It was oddly pleasurable, and he wondered if this was what bondmates were supposed to experience with one another.

He re-centered himself for the time being. There were things he needed to learn.

Chapter 6: March, 2229

Matchmaker

It was Tuesday and Sarek had agreed to meet Amanda for lunch. However, he had been detained on a conference call so she had brought take-out to his office instead. She slipped in through the open door – it was evidently not a confidential call – and was planning to unpack their lunch on the low coffee table when she saw it was littered with a number of unique-looking data chips spilling out of a diplomatic pouch. The pouch was embossed with Vulcan symbols, so its origin was obvious. She wondered what type of information was still sent in physical form, via starship, instead of via subspace. She could see that each of the chips appeared to have a Vulcan name on it. Not wanting to pry, she left the take-out bag on the table and waited for Sarek.

He concluded his call and joined her. “I apologize for the disruption to our schedule.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Amanda said casually, then indicated the table. “I didn’t want to disturb this…”

Sarek looked down at the pouch and chips as if suddenly remembering they were there. An exasperated expression crossed his face, telling however brief. “This is of no importance,” he said quickly as he scooped the data chips back into the pouch and unceremoniously dropped it on a corner of his desk.

When he sat back down across from her, Amanda could see the tiny lines of tension around his eyes, invisible to all but those who knew him well, a very small group that now included her. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Sarek repressed a sigh. It is illogical to be untruthful, and I could simply refuse to discuss it, but that does not seem…right. “The pouch is from my clan’s matchmaker,” he said quietly. He answered her unspoken question. “I am unbonded. I am to…make a selection from the dossiers she has sent.” Even as he worked to keep his voice toneless, his lack of enthusiasm for the task was clear.

“You mean you’re supposed to just pick someone from a list?” Amanda asked, trying to keep the incredulity from her voice.

“Yes.”

“But do you know any of those women?”

“No.”

“But…what if you select someone and find you don’t get along, don’t… care for each other?”

Sarek stared out the window. “They are all logical choices for me, made by my clan. To be concerned with one’s… feelings is not the Vulcan way.” He wanted to tell her how much he did not want to participate in this process, that his thoughts were on another choice…but found he could not, yet.

“I’m sorry,” Amanda said quietly. Sarek turned to her, brows raised in question.

“I’m sorry for applying my own cultural standards to your situation, which is why I’m reacting the way I am, and I’m also sorry for the fact that your choices seem… constrained.”

Sarek’s dark eyes were unreadable. “I… appreciate your thoughts,” he said slowly. He debated internally for a split second. “And there is no one on that list whom I plan to select,” he stated flatly.

Amanda’s gaze fixed on his for an instant, and then, as if she had forgotten it was there, “Oh, lunch! Shall we eat? I went to Vishnu’s; got the Vindaloo vegetables for you and a curry for me.” She forced cheerfulness into her voice as she arranged the containers on the table.

“I will bring tea,” Sarek said and rose quickly.

Amanda was grateful for a moment alone as she stared out the window. She had been truthful when she said she was sorry for him – the idea of him being married off to an unknown stranger seemed unbearably sad. But she was also distressed for another reason: the matchmaker’s activities meant that he might soon be taken from her, and as much as she might have told herself that theirs was simply a friendship, she knew that was no longer entirely true, at least for her. She cared for him, was attracted to him, maybe even…wanted more. The realization was unnerving. And she doubted she could ever tell him; doing so would likely only make a difficult situation worse for him, and could jeopardize their friendship as well. And where could such feelings take them? He was Vulcan – the ambassador, no less – she was Human…This couldn’t go anywhere. Right?

She was drawn from her reverie when Sarek returned with tea. She smiled brightly at him, not wanting him to detect her thoughts, and he in turn seemed returned to his usual self.

Translator Take Two

Their next lunch meeting was abbreviated, as Sarek had been drawn into a lengthy series of meetings with Terran legislators. Some of them, under increasing pressure from nativist groups, demanded to voice their concerns about the Centauri Accord directly to “the Vulcan Menace himself,” as Sarek had been dubbed by one particularly strident commentator. He had merely flicked a brow at the epithet, unconcerned, but Stanek had increased his security detail nonetheless.

After they discussed the history and nature of such groups on Earth and elsewhere over their meal, Amanda turned the conversation to the Universal Translator.

“Sarek, before you go, I think the developers finally managed to fix that translation bug we found a few weeks ago. Let’s test it again, shall we?” Amanda brought up the Translator program on her PADD.

“’Bug?’”

“Sorry. Error in the program.”

“Ah.”

“Let’s try the same phrase as before, at least to begin with,” Amanda said, handing him the earpiece once more. “Here goes,” she added before leaning over her mic and reciting, “I am gratified by your presence.”

Sarek listened, and his eyebrows shot up a second time. “It translated, ‘Your presence stirs my passions.’ Indeed…”

“Oh my goodness, Sarek, I don’t know what’s wrong with this thing!” Amanda exclaimed, blushing furiously and trying not to replay in her mind the sound of his voice saying those words. “I’m going to have a word with a few of the developers.”

Mindful of his limited time and embarrassed enough that she wanted to make an expeditious exit, she quickly picked up her PADD and prepared to escape.

Crossing a Chasm

He arose as she gathered her things to leave the courtyard. “Amanda.”

She looked up. “Yes?”

“A…personal inquiry.” He paused. “Would you… care to dine with me on Friday evening?”

His face was a study of expressionlessness, yet for Amanda the air crackled. This was not a cultural exchange. Sarek was staring at her, calm as always, and yet…different. Standing before her was not Sarek the Vulcan ambassador, but Sarek the man, seeking her attention. But what about the matchmaker? He did say he wasn’t going to choose anyone from that list…

“I’d enjoy that, Sarek,” she replied, willing the unsteadiness out of her voice. This is surreal, being asked out on an actual date by the Vulcan ambassador. But no, this is still Sarek, my friend and…maybe more? The tingling in her core she had felt before with him returned with a forceful rush. Oh, my…

“Excellent,” he answered softly. “I will call for you at 1900 hours.” Amanda got the distinct impression that he had never done anything like this before and was stepping across a vast cultural chasm to do so. His eyes were riveted on her and she suddenly felt self-conscious.

“Sure, great. I’ll see you later…” She escaped to the door, feeling like she was about fifteen. A silly grin briefly lit up her features before she wiped it away, not wanting to have to explain it to the rest of the Translator team.

As soon as Amanda disappeared Sarek let out the breath he had been holding. Of all the interactions he had had with a multitude of beings – debates, negotiations, confrontations – this had been one of the most stressful. This form of courtship – and that was what he was attempting to do, to learn the things he needed to know – was literally alien to his experience. He only understood the process from research, questionably reliable research at that, in his opinion.

Millennia ago on his own world – eons ago and yet in the blink of time’s eye – he would have simply had to plan his conquest, lead his campaign and bring his prize home. A bloody and unsustainable methodology, to be sure, but one that seemed far more predictable than this. However, it would seem, at least, that his first step using this Terran method had succeeded. He squelched the pre-Reform sentiment and contemplated what he needed to do next.

Dinner

The embassy flitter arrived at exactly 1900 hours. Fortunately Amanda had expected this and she was ready to go, wearing a modest but pretty dress, leaving her hair down in a mass of loose curls. They both paused awkwardly at ‘hello’; Amanda could swear he was staring at her hair, while she was distracted by his attire – he looked dashing. He wore a long, open cloak over a dark grey suit with maroon and black accents. To Amanda he looked like some Victorian era prince.

Sarek directed her into the back of the flitter, and she was momentarily dismayed to see T’Lina and Stell in the front. As much as she liked the two security guards, she hoped they wouldn’t all be eating together. Something on her face must have revealed her thought, for a moment later Sarek leaned close to her and murmured, “We shall be dining alone.” The warmth of his breath and timbre of his voice sent a warm shiver down her spine.

The flitter wound its way through San Francisco’s ancient streets until it came to a stop near the top of Telegraph Hill. The restaurant, La Belle Étoile, looked like a small, antique residence on the outside and was tiny inside, featuring a warm fireplace and a half dozen tables, each overlooking the bay. Amanda’s eyes widened at the romantic scene; she hadn’t really expected this. Sarek, meanwhile, inspected the interior with interest. He had sent Soran around the city earlier in the week with a list of ‘appropriate’ criteria for such an establishment; judging by Amanda’s reaction, it appeared that his aide had made a satisfactory selection.

A few heads turned when they were seated, but they were otherwise given privacy. Stell and T’Lina had taken up their posts outside. It wasn’t long before any vestiges of awkwardness disappeared. Amanda found herself laughing as Sarek recounted the tale of building his first hover bike as a teenager. “So you built it from scratch, and then your father wouldn’t let you ride it? How unfair!”

“In particular he was concerned about the safety of its use after dark or in the desert. Of course, those were precisely the conditions for which I intended its use.”

“So what ultimately happened?”

“I convinced my father to have the hover bike professionally evaluated. The engineers he hired could find no operating flaw in the vehicle. However, they unfortunately did discover that the navigation, distance and rate of motion logs had been reset multiple times.”

“Sarek!”

Sarek inclined his head. “A youthful indiscretion for which I paid the consequences, I assure you.”

“I had no idea you had such a rebellious streak,” Amanda teased, amused.

“I have often been accused of such. I maintain that a… broad-minded perspective enables me to be receptive to new ideas. Quite logical in my profession.”

“I see,” Amanda replied with mock dubiousness. “Who knew, such a model of Vulcan propriety…”

Sarek drew himself up. “Indeed. Am I to suppose you have no similar examples of regrettable behavior from your youth?”

“Well,” Amanda said with studied casualness, “I was arrested once.”

“Arrested?” Sarek’s brows climbed.

“It was a student protest. The university wasn’t granting financial aid at the time to students from outside the Federation. We thought that was unjust, so… we chained ourselves to the front door of the dining hall.”

At that moment dessert arrived.

“An illogical approach.”

“Mmm! Sarek, you have to try this.”

“You are aware that chocolate is an intoxicant for Vulcans, are you not?”

“The approach might have been ‘illogical,’ but the publicity persuaded the alumni council to look into the matter, and ultimately the policy was changed.”

“Indeed. I shall be on the alert for such a tactic should we have another disagreement over the Universal Translator, then,” he deadpanned, and Amanda chuckled.

“You never know, I might chain myself to the embassy’s front doors. Oh, and I’m not trying to get you drunk,” she added, starting to pull back the spoon she had proffered.

“Quite an interesting prospect. And as my staff is quite unfamiliar with such methods, I would likely have to contend with you myself,” Sarek said slowly, eyes on her as he reached out to take the spoon. “Small quantities do not… usually… result in inappropriate behavior, I’m told,” he continued, wrapping his generous mouth around the spoon. “Indeed; most agreeable.” Amanda could not tear her eyes away.

They were the last to leave La Belle Étoile. As they prepared to depart, T’Lina comm’d Sarek, and Amanda guiltily realized the guards had been outside for three – or was it four?– hours. “S’haile, we appear to have a contingent of Terran press awaiting you,” T’Lina informed him. “Are they expecting a statement?”

Sarek repressed a sigh. “No. We shall depart forthwith.” As they exited the restaurant, they did indeed see a small group across the street, armed with holo-cameras and recorders.

“I fail to understand this Terran predilection,” he murmured as he protectively maneuvered Amanda toward the flitter.

Amanda turned and said conspiratorially, “It’s too bad we don’t have your hover bike now…”

He bent slightly toward her as she spoke, catching the aroma of her hair.

At that moment, whether due to luck or skill, a holographer hit pay dirt. The image of Amanda’s seductive smile, apparently whispering into the ambassador’s ear, his touch as he leaned close to help her into the car, would be reborn into thousands of electronic copies with the morning’s news.

The Terran Press

It wasn’t the first holopic of them to reach the news. It was the first such report to feature only the two of them, however. The next morning, a vid reporter chattered, “And in Lifestyle’s ‘Seen Together’ report for today, we uncovered this unlikely pair, Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan and Dr. Amanda Grayson…”

It was just the beginning.

Soran’s Observations

Soran knew his s'haile better than most. Inured as they both were to the path of c’thia, of non-emotion, Soran could read his longtime friend and schoolmate quite well. He knew his moods, though they both would eschew their existence. He saw Sarek's intensity in his desire to complete a set of negotiations and his satisfaction at their appropriate, and logical, conclusion; his exacting standards for himself and his staff; his impatience with the many vagaries of his non-Vulcan diplomatic counterparts; and yes, even his anger when incompetence or ill-will got in the way of an appropriate solution.

All of these affects Soran had recognized for years. There was a new one, though, that he understood much less. When the Terran linguist first came to work at the embassy, Soran frequently detected friction between her and his superior, friction of multiple types. She did not unquestioningly defer to him, nor did she make a huge effort to control the expression of her Humanity around him. They disagreed on any number of topics. They argued, and Soran sensed Sarek's irritation.

But as time went on, she teased him, and Soran detected amusement rather than impatience, and when she expressed some particularly inexplicable set of Human emotions, he could tell Sarek was not, in fact, repelled, but enthralled, drawn to try to somehow understand this delicate yet flamboyant Terran. His s'haile was fascinated and drawn in. Soran was no reader of Human emotion (beyond what was so often blatantly put on display), but he did believe he could detect similar inclinations in the Human. She seemed correspondingly drawn to Sarek's company, reaching as if to touch but daring not to.

Soran noted with some concern that the gravitational pull between the two was increasing. They were so different, yet shared enough intangible similarities, it seemed, that they were inexorably drawn closer. And the dynamics of the dance between them seemed to be slipping beyond the boundaries of a collegial relationship or even friendship.

If this were some sort of mating ritual, it was not the Vulcan way. But even so, Soran felt compassion for his friend. Having been deprived of his childhood bondmate, Sarek would inevitably need a mate at some point, and Soran could understand his reluctance to simply accept one chosen by his clan. Soran pondered the implications if Sarek’s relationship with Dr. Grayson became something more, deciding to maintain his own counsel for the time being.

Chapter 7: April, 2229

Political Sentiments

During this time public opinion regarding the Centauri Accord was slowly improving as more people came to understand the economic benefits of greater integration and how they would apply personally. Sarek had been working diligently behind the scenes with several Federation member governments and business groups to identify potential trade opportunities with Earth that would be possible with the ratification of the accord, and those efforts were slowly bearing fruit.

Significantly, however, as general opinion warmed toward Earth’s ratification of the accord, the positions of the more strident opposition groups seemed to become more hardened and extreme. The League for Human Justice declared it “yet another subjugation of Earth by Vulcan and its allies,” while several reactionary commentators asserted “statistics” which “proved Human jobs and opportunities would be lost.” Still other nativists claimed that the accord combined with the Universal Translator “would create an insidious, corrosive influence that will destroy what is unique about Human culture within a generation.”

A small group of protesters with placards soon became a regular fixture outside the Vulcan embassy. As offensive as their professed views were – one placard read “Vulcans Off of Earth” – they were thus far non-violent, so the delegation filed no complaints against them.

Knowing the disproportionate impact such vocal views could have in a pluralistic society, Sarek redoubled his efforts to work with Earth politicians who had concerns about the accord. He was aware that this was making him a greater target for those opposed to the accord, but considered that negative publicity directed at him personally to be of little consequence, especially when so much of it was completely unfounded.

Dinner and a Private Concert

A week after their first dinner, Sarek and Amanda had planned on another dinner plus the theater, only to find when they exited the embassy flitter at the restaurant that a throng of reporters had followed them, shouting questions at them about the reason for their outing, the Centauri Accord, and the Universal Translator. Faced with the prospect of dealing with the press again on the way out of the restaurant and then at the theater, Sarek turned to Amanda. “Take out?”

“Yes.”

A little while later and a meal more discreetly procured, they enjoyed a quiet dinner in the common area of the Vulcan embassy’s private quarters. Amanda had never been in the embassy’s private apartments before. She expected attendants and other embassy residents to be everywhere but they were quite alone.

After dinner Sarek cleared the dishes and containers. He returned a few minutes later with a tray of tea and kreyla biscuits, carrying a harp-like instrument under his arm. "I wish to inquire if you would be interested in listening to some Vulcan music, in exchange for the Terran music you have arranged for me to experience," he asked solemnly.

Amanda's eyes brightened with anticipation, and he was rewarded with one of her brilliant smiles. "That would be lovely, Sarek!"

Without preamble he sat and bent his head over the instrument, and in a moment their corner of the common area was filled with alien music. The ka’athyra filled the room with haunting, beautiful notes, drawn from it by his nimble fingers. Amanda could swear she recognized echoes from the violin concerto, the classical guitar, and even the electric bass they had heard together, in addition to a multitude of other strains that were altogether unearthly.

Amanda watched those elegant fingers play, mesmerized. As she listened, she thought about her relationship with Sarek. Their respective life experiences were completely different, but yet, they seemed to find beauty and meaning in the same things. She wondered if his definition of beauty included her.

She was drawn from her reverie when he finished, all too soon. "Sarek, you are more than talented. That was really beautiful,” she sighed. “What is it called?"

'Amanda,' he thought to himself, but he answered instead, "It is an improvisation."

More Terran Press

“Prince Charming for the Professor?” read the headline that scrolled under the holovid of Amanda, arm tucked into Sarek’s, as they made their way away from the throng of reporters outside of the restaurant they had abandoned.

Sarek looked away from the screen toward Amanda. “Who is this ‘Prince Charming’?” he asked, puzzled.

Amanda just waved her hand, embarrassed. “Oh, it’s silly. Must have been a slow news day, that’s all.”

On another floor, in a different office, three members of the security team observed the same holovid on T’Vey’s news screen with equal puzzlement.

“I do not understand,” said Sporn, perplexed.

“What aspect do you fail to grasp?” T’Vey asked.

“The meaning implied by the Earth media.”

“And the… activities of the kevet-dutar and Dr. Grayson that appear to prompt such media interest,” added Stell. “They have been numerous.”

“I suspect there may be some Human social customs involved with which we are unfamiliar,” T’Lina ventured cautiously. “Perhaps… even a form of mating ritual.”

All eyes turned to look at her with what would have been shock, if they hadn’t all been Vulcan.

“You are speculating,” Sporn said dismissively. Stell also appeared skeptical, while T’Vey looked thoughtful.

“Perhaps,” T’Lina rejoined, unruffled. “You are welcome to develop an alternate hypothesis that fits the data.”

Dance Lesson

Amanda surveyed her closet, biting her lip in concentration. She was to dine with Sarek again this evening, like last week. Tonight was going to be different, however.

Earlier in the week when he had asked, he had said, “Given the circumstances with the Terran press currently, we shall dine here, at the embassy, in my private quarters. I will call for you at 2000 hours.”

Normally she would have given him a hard time for his reflexive commands (“you’re supposed to ask a lady to dine with you Sarek…”), but the mention of his quarters set her stomach to fluttering and she forgot about teasing him. She had never actually been in his quarters and the thought of spending an entire evening with him there, behind closed doors, was both unnerving and tantalizing.

She finally picked a knee-length, form-fitting charcoal lace dress, nodding in satisfaction. It looked more revealing than it actually was, but it clung to her curves and screamed “feminine.”

When her door chimed at exactly 2000 hours and she opened it for him, she could swear he paused for a split second before he greeted her. His dark eyes took in her form and Amanda was sure he missed nothing. Under his gaze she felt warmth deep in her core, warmth that spread and blazed hotter when he spoke.

“It is agreeable to see you this evening, Amanda,” he declared, his arresting baritone dropping into something deep and vibrating on “agreeable.”

The air was tantalizingly taut between them as she joined him in the flitter, and remained so when they arrived at the embassy. This felt qualitatively different than any of their many working dinners, and even different from the other social dinners they had had together.

The meal was ready for them when they arrived, served to them silently by a single attendant. When Amanda admired the view of the bay from his window, Sarek concurred. “Yes. It is very different from my home world, but it is nonetheless pleasing to look at.” He realized as he said it that, a few short months ago he would not have expressed such an opinion. It was not pleasing before she came. This was not logical; the bay had not changed – although perhaps his perspective had.

Over a first course, Amanda ventured, “Sarek, I've told you some about my family; can you tell me about yours?"

He nodded. Given what she had shared about her family, it was reasonable to exchange this personal information. "My father is also in the diplomatic service. He was Vulcan’s previous ambassador to Earth. Diplomatic service runs in my family. My mother is the leader of my clan." Among other things, but he left that out for the time being. “I also have younger brother who is a language specialist much like yourself.”

Amanda recalled their earlier conversation about the matchmaker. Had he made a selection? "And you are not yet married," she said.

To her surprise, his eyes took on a hooded expression as he answered quietly, “I am no longer married. I was briefly, but my bondmate chose to follow the path of the Kohlinahru, adepts who have purged all emotion and renounced all personal relationships, and so our marriage was annulled. I am… unbonded.”

Ouch, she thought. “That must have been difficult.”

“Yes,” he said simply, momentarily gazing at nothing, and Amanda could sense a much greater pain that he did not verbalize.

After a moment’s pause, she gently asked, “Is ‘I grieve with thee’ appropriate?”

“Yes, it is.” He inclined his head in that particular Vulcan form of acknowledgement, gratified by her understanding of the situation.

They finished their meal in companionable if pensive silence. Then, after the attendant had cleared their meal and left them alone, Sarek re-initiated the conversation. “I wish to revisit a topic that we discussed at the Terran Embassy Ball three point four five months ago.”

“And what is that, Sarek?” Amanda asked, puzzled.

"It has occurred to me that a greater facility with the Terran customs of social dance would be beneficial to the conduct of my diplomatic duties."

"Oh?" she replied, not sure where he was going with this.

"Yes. Participation in culturally accepted activities facilitates the building of relationships that ultimately aids negotiation. I lack the required instruction in this case, however." Glancing at her, he hazarded his question. "You seem to possess a satisfactory grasp of the required techniques. Would you be willing to... show me?"

Amanda was charmed; he sounded almost shy. She was also surprised – and intrigued. "Well I'm certainly no ballroom dance instructor,” she replied slowly, “but I could probably show you the basics." She paused. "This Human dance form does typically involve touch between the participants, though. Will that be okay?"

"If I am able to anticipate the physical contact, it is not a problem to maintain my shields." The pleasant tension between them from earlier returned.

“All right then, let’s give it a try.” Amanda smiled and stood. “The most frequently used traditional dance at diplomatic and similar functions is the waltz. It can be made more complex, but the basic step is very simple. Can you pull up a music file called The Grand Waltz, or something similar?”

Sarek nodded, tapping on his PADD, and strains of music that he recognized from various events filled the room.

“Now, come here,” Amanda instructed, biting her lip to keep from laughing nervously. This is going to be interesting. He obliged. “This is the touching part. You place your left hand in my right, like so,” she said, slowly taking his hand, “and you place your right hand here, at my waist.” Sarek complied, raising an eyebrow at the unfamiliar position. She tried not to focus on the feel of his large, warm hands on her body.

“Next,” she continued, “we simply do the basic step, called the box step, over and over, moving to the music, one-two-three, one-two-three. You lead, meaning you take a step forward while I take a step back, then we step to the side and forward, like so, and back to the beginning again.” Amanda demonstrated by slowly leading him through the steps. “It’s your job to turn me around the floor, avoiding other dancing couples and so forth.”

They took a few hesitant turns to the music in Sarek’s living area. He found their prolonged contact to be surprisingly agreeable, although he tried to divert his attention from this fact, and from the impulse to touch her fingertips with his. She is so close, closer than Vulcan protocol would ever allow…

“Is it always performed this way?” Sarek asked, frowning slightly.

“The steps vary, but this is the basic concept for most forms of what we call ‘ballroom dance,’” Amanda confirmed.

“It is rather gender-biased, is it not?”

She gave a short laugh in acknowledgement. “Good point. These dances originated centuries ago, when Earth women were supposed to be subservient to men in most things.”

“You do not find this objectionable?” he asked.

“In theory, yes, but practically, not really, not anymore. Our whole society has changed. And now there are a lot more types of dance, including many more egalitarian forms – some which don’t require a partner at all – so it’s not like this is the only way to express oneself to music. Ballroom dance still has a role in courtship rituals; it’s considered a socially acceptable way to be physically close in public.”

A momentary, awkward silence ensued as they stood there before Amanda spoke again. “What about Vulcan gender roles, Sarek?”

“They exist, although like Earth, many are primarily vestiges of our ancient past. There are exceptions, however; it is... a complex subject.” Sarek’s voice had grown strangely husky as his eyes stared down into hers. He promptly changed the subject back to dance. “And how do dancers determine their partners?”

Amanda followed his conversational lead. There was enough tension in the room already. “Often it’s the person who accompanies you to the event. But it can be anyone you ask, really; an acquaintance, colleague, or even a perfect stranger, if you ask them to dance and they accept.”

He looked a bit shocked, impassive as he was. “Strangers… touch one another in this way?”

Amanda gave a small smile at his apparent disapprobation. “You didn’t know these diplomatic events were such licentious affairs, did you?”

Sarek stiffened a bit. “Vulcan is a conservative society. This is quite different from Vulcan customs. I am endeavoring to… appreciate the diversity.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to tease you.”

“No offense is taken.”

“Shall we try moving through it another time?” Amanda asked. Sarek nodded, and she tapped the PADD to restart the music.

The weird dichotomy was magnified for them both this time as the tension ebbed and flowed between them: the close contact was both pleasant and awkward. They moved through the steps successfully, Sarek becoming more confident, and they continued slowly dancing for several minutes. Amanda noticed his hand had migrated from her hip to the small of her back. With any Human male she would have interpreted the movement as both possessive and erotic – and she would have welcomed it from Sarek. But he couldn’t mean that, could he? He’s probably just more comfortable that way. Still, she fought to keep her own body’s response under control, not to acknowledge the tingling sensation of arousal, like she wanted to.

She pulled her eyes up to meet his just as the music ended and they were frozen for a moment, staring at one another. Amanda could smell the slight muskiness of his skin, feel the air stirred by his breath. She realized her heart was beating wildly once again and she looked down as she flushed, hoping desperately that her body wouldn't betray her any further. I want his hands to rove further, want to run my hands over his skin… She had thought before that their differences, Human and Vulcan, would inherently limit whatever attraction that arose between them, but it was suddenly very clear that this was not the case.

Sarek could feel Amanda’s pulse accelerate, and although his mental shields blocked her thoughts, he did not need any kind of telepathy to interpret her emotional state. Her flushed face and rapid breathing, her scent, so close to him, touched off a male response he worked to repress. I want to pull her even closer, inhale that scent, explore her body, her mind…

Amanda was both relieved and disappointed to hear her own voice break the silence as she pulled away from him. So we both can breathe. “Well… I think you’ve got the hang of it, Sarek. You are a good student.”

“And you are an excellent instructor, Amanda,” he replied, his voice very deep. There was another moment of silence.

Amanda smiled shyly at him. “Thank you for a lovely dinner. I’m afraid it’s getting late…”

“Of course. I will return you to your home.”

To Amanda it felt for all the world like they were two awkward teenagers in the hovercar as he drove her home. She firmly believed that raising the possibility of anything other than a platonic relationship would likely be disastrous, and she wasn’t willing to risk that. But it was undeniable that the sexual tension between them was continuing to build. Amanda watched his sure hands as he piloted the flitter, and recalling those hands on her body, she shivered. Get a grip, Grayson, she thought as she climbed into bed and into a night of fitful dreams.

Sarek was preoccupied for the rest of the evening by his own mental state. The pleasant thrum of contentment he felt in Amanda’s presence had acquired a new dimension. He now felt a… wanting, not just for her physically, but something more. It was a dull ache, punctuated by sharper pangs of physical desire. And none of it was acceptable. He was Vulcan. He meditated until late into the night, seeking to restore his equilibrium.

Realization

The PADD hit the desk a little too hard, a little too suddenly. Sarek looked at it in surprise, as if he were not who the one had who had just tossed it there in a gesture that looked all too much like irritation, even anger. He paused and looked within himself to examine the sudden inner turmoil that had not existed a few minutes before.

The missive had come from T'Pau, and for a change it was not about any issue facing the High Council or Terran-Vulcan relations. This communiqué had been meant for him personally. He had been putting off the clan matchmaker for months now, responding to each of her inquiries with a deferral or postponement. There simply had not been a good time to address the question of finding his next bondmate; his schedule was always filled with more pressing issues. At least that was what he had told the matchmaker – and himself.

Now T'Pau was forcing the situation. It was not acceptable for the scion of the House of Surak to remain unbonded as his Time approached, now less than two years away, just as it was unacceptable for Vulcan's ambassador to Earth to leave himself in such a potentially compromising position. She was demanding that he respond to the matchmaker with a rank-ordered list of potential bondmates from the dossiers he had received.

Sarek knew he must take a mate. Of that there was no doubt. The problem was he was simply not interested in any of the candidates that had been presented to him. And he did not want another meaningless union. There was only one female whose company he desired, and she was not Vulcan.

He already knew it was not his status as an unbonded male that caused him to desire Amanda’s company. No, if it were simply the need to bond he would have reacted with other than indifference to the literally dozens of eligible Vulcan women whom he had met or whose portfolios he had reviewed at his clan's increasingly frequent request. In fact, if it were only the need to bond, it would have been far more logical to seek out one of these women than Amanda. Among his people, it would be almost unheard of for a woman of his choosing to turn him down, such was were his position and his family. And yet, he compared each of his potential bondmates to Amanda and found them all wanting.

Amanda had no idea of that, only knowing that he was Vulcan's representative to Earth. And while this was an honorable position in and of itself, he could tell that this did not sway her decisions to spend time with him. There was something oddly comforting in knowing that she chose to spend time with him for who he really was, and at the same time there was something equally unsettling in the awareness that she could choose to break off their relationship at any time, for reasons utterly her own. So, no, his desire to be in her company was not driven by simple biological need.

Sarek knew his advisors and staff were well aware of the increasing amount of time he spent with Amanda, and no doubt they had also concluded that such time was in excess of that required to conduct Embassy business. No one had attempted to counsel him against this, however, not only because he could be intimidating to oppose but because, he was sure, they could not imagine the idea he held in his heart.

When he was with her, his restless soul was at peace. That knowledge was both basic and profound. Was this not what bondmates were supposed to provide for each other? It was an undeniable fact that he desired to be in her company more than anyone else’s, and it was clear to him that they possessed a rapport that transcended their vastly different heritages. The social activities he had initiated with her in recent weeks had further confirmed this.

Unlike any of the others, in fact, he could imagine Amanda as his bondmate. And as he thought more, recalling the brilliant smile she reserved only for him, he thought that she might perhaps have similar thoughts for him.

Seeking a non-Vulcan mate seemed illogical on the surface, but as he examined that hypothesis, he found it faulty. There was no logic in assuming one’s mate necessarily must be of one’s own species. Compatibility on levels beyond simple DNA was actually far more important. He and Amanda shared much: shared values, interests, intelligence and drive, even sense of humor, if he were to admit to that. She alone seemed to understand him in ways that others who had known him far longer could not. He felt at peace in her presence as with no one else. That DNA was not one of the things they shared was almost inconsequential. Procreation was important, but that could be addressed by science. Amanda was unique in the universe to him, and the only one who had ever stirred his katra in this way. It was, in fact, logical to seek her as his mate.

And there was that undeniable pull of a physical nature he felt toward her. She was aesthetically appealing to him, and more. He had felt the desire, been stimulated by her closeness; he knew he wanted her like no one else. The attraction was intense, powerful, and at times threatened his control. Why he felt this so viscerally he did not know, but he did sense from their encounters that Amanda shared his desire. The thought of that alone made his pulse accelerate.

He suddenly realized how blind he had been. He had been drawn to her from the first moment he had seen and heard her. There were terms in his language, although they were rarely used… Even though he was only consciously recognizing it now, it was shon-ha-lock, and he had been engulfed from the first. He could not attempt a bonding with any woman on his home world, he now knew: his katra had already been claimed.

Sarek was nothing if not decisive, and once decided upon something, he nearly always got what he wanted. In this case, however, the path between deciding and obtaining was more circuitous. He needed to secure Amanda’s agreement on the subject. While obtaining agreement to bond from a Vulcan female would not be difficult by virtue of who he was, some of those very same characteristics could pose insurmountable obstacles for him in Amanda’s case. He would eventually need to return to Vulcan to fulfill hereditary duties; would she accompany him there? Vulcans bonded telepathically; would she be willing? He was a Vulcan male, with the attendant biological burden of which Amanda was not even yet aware; would she reject him out of hand because of it? Even though he could see the logic in their pairing, would she?

From where he stood in time Sarek could see numerous possible futures unfolding. However, only one was acceptable to him. He had to secure Amanda as his bondmate. He would not rest until she was safely his.

Chapter 8: May, 2229

Third Time a Charm?

“All of the other usage testing we’ve done in Vulcan has been flawless. We just have this one, lingering error. But, the third time’s the charm, right?”

“’The charm?’”

She chuckled. “Just a reference to an old Human superstition.” Sarek only blinked.

“Let’s try the original test one more time,” Amanda said, turning to the translator.

“Very well,” Sarek replied as he picked up the earpiece.

Amanda spoke to the device as before, “I am gratified by your company.” Yes, I am, she thought, watching him.

When he listened to the translated phrase, Amanda could swear she saw his body freeze for an instant. “What did you hear?” she asked, concerned.

Sarek’s expression was impenetrable as he looked up at her and his rich voice repeated the words, “’I cherish thee.’”

Silence filled the small room for a moment.

Amanda looked back at him, eyes wide. “’I cherish thee’?” That means… but it’s only the device translating, not him choosing the words. Out loud, she simply said, “Damn! I think we have our work cut out for us trying to fix this…” She shook her head and bent over the PADD.

Sarek watched her intently, acutely aware of the turmoil in his center. Perhaps, he silently answered, but the device was not in error…

Art Imitating Life

Amanda had wanted to take Sarek to see some examples of Terran visual art, and decided on the spur of the moment to take him to the Memorial Art Museum for their weekly excursion. When they arrived to see that the main exhibition was entitled “Expressions of Love: Visual Art Through the Centuries,” she cursed herself for not looking it up ahead of time, but then decided it was probably only she who felt the least bit awkward. And subject matter aside, it was an excellent retrospective of the various styles and media of this art form.

They stopped in front of a large reproduction of a very old photograph. The photo, entitled “V-E Day,” showed a sailor holding a nurse in his arms, bending her over almost backwards in a passionate kiss. Amanda exclaimed, “This is an interesting selection for this exhibit!” She explained the World War II context and then added, “Even though the picture appears to show a re-uniting couple, that wasn’t the case. Apparently, the soldier was so excited by the victory announcement that he simply grabbed that woman from the crowd and kissed her to celebrate!”

“These two individuals did not even know each other, then?” Sarek’s voice, almost as even-toned as usual, had the slightest modulation to it that told her he was practically incredulous.

“Apparently not.”

“I find some Human motivations unfathomable.”

“Well, consider this: these individuals had been involved in the greatest war experienced on Earth to date, and half of it had just ended. Perhaps in the moment the sailor was merely expressing his joy and relief in the most immediate way possible. Or, as Surak would say, ‘the cause was sufficient.’”

“I see,” Sarek said, doubtfully enough that it sounded like he didn’t. “That is…plausible,” he allowed, finally.

He focused on the knowing smile she flashed him. Even though couched in emotional terms, Amanda’s logic was sound, and he appreciated it. He admired the way her mind worked, in spite (or was it because?) of the fact that he did not always understand how she reached her conclusions. He followed her into the next section of the exhibit, his eyes fixed on her.

He was struck by a sudden, urgent …yearning. I want this woman, want her deeply, want her now. Vulcan passions were fiercely felt, and Sarek was caught in the throes of one of them at this instant. He smoothly turned away for a moment, appearing to study the work in front of him while he re-composed himself. A quick internal scan revealed nothing awry. As he considered the roiling sensation more carefully, he recognized it to be an amplification and definition of his already acknowledged desire for Amanda – and he wanted her so much. To merge my consciousness with hers; to lose myself in her mind and body; to possess and protect her from all that might separate us; even… to create a family… (Was this even possible? He felt an urgent need to research this). Even in pon farr he had not experienced this complexity of desire, and it rattled him.

Completely lost in thought, he nearly walked straight into a sculpture. Amanda looked back at him curiously, but he kept his face a mask as he wrestled with the unfamiliar emotions. They are unsettling, to be sure, but there is logic in seeking to join with the one I find so compatible with myself. And I must do so soon, Sarek admonished himself. Such passions cannot be left unaddressed. He mulled over how to best achieve his objective, and, as they walked through the exhibit, he closed the distance between them, his dark eyes never leaving her.

They wandered further through the gallery with its many works in varied media, Amanda having no idea of the upheaval going on inside the mind of her companion. She came to a stop in front of a small neutrally colored drawing. “Oh, look at this! Fragonard’s Kiss is one of my favorites.”

Sarek peered at the small artwork, momentarily pushing his tumultuous thoughts aside. “What does this depict?”

“It represents the power of love to unite two souls even in the face of death. See, the two lovers in the crypt, which is broken open? Their spirits are brought back to life by the flame from Cupid’s torch.” She stared wistfully at the drawing for a moment more. “It’s a very romantic notion – definitely not a logical one,” she finished with an apologetic smile.

Sarek paused as if considering whether to say something. The room was empty save for themselves. Reaching a conclusion, he kept his gaze on the painting as he began to speak. “Actually, from a Vulcan perspective, it could be considered logical.” She turned toward him in surprise. “Vulcan mates are joined telepathically, linking one another’s katras, or life essences – analogous to what you refer to as ‘souls’ – in a bond which is said to transcend death. Our life essences can be preserved after the death of the body, and so bondmates need not be permanently separated by physical death.” He fell silent. Part of him questioned the wisdom and the logic of revealing such intimate information about his people, especially in this public place, but another part of him was very interested in her reaction. I need to know…

Amanda took a moment to absorb this surprising revelation. Had it been anyone other than Sarek telling her this, she would have been convinced they were relating a myth. “Sarek, that’s …amazing. So among your people couples – bondmates — are in constant telepathic contact?”

“In a manner of speaking. It is more an empathic awareness of one another than an active hearing of each other’s thoughts, although that is also possible. We are taught to shield our thoughts to provide one another privacy.” He continued to stare at the sketch as he spoke.

Fascinated, Amanda wanted to ask him more, but, remembering his divorce, she hesitated.

Seeming to sense her question, Sarek looked toward her and added, “The strength of the bond varies among couples.”

“Oh.” Then, unable to stifle her curiosity, she asked, “Is this something that is only experienced between Vulcans?” She instantly regretted asking the question and hoped he would somehow misinterpret it.

He did not. Instead he looked directly at her and she thought she would be lost in his liquid gaze. “It is possible for psi-capable Vulcans to share this bond with psi-blind Vulcans,” he answered softly, “therefore, if one of a pair were Vulcan, it is quite possible he or she could form such a bond with a member of another species.”

“I see,” was all she could verbalize, embarrassed by the forthrightness of her question and wondering what it would be like to feel the touch of his mind. She fully expected him to end the conversation at this point, as it was clearly straying beyond what she assumed were acceptable boundaries for him.

Sarek said nothing for a moment, not because he was put off by the subject, but rather because he was seeking to quell his own desire to touch Amanda’s mind. Quite inappropriate at this time. But desirable, intriguing, tantalizing… He pushed the thought away. I have much to meditate upon, yet again. However, this is an opportunity to begin the conversation I wish to have with her.

They had reached the end of the exhibit and were walking back out into the sunshine. Amanda had just asked him if he wanted to stop for tea when Sarek turned to her, his expression suddenly serious. He began, “Amanda, I wish to –”

His words were interrupted by Stell’s voice coming to him from the steps below where he and T’Lina had been stationed. “S’haile, we have a disturbance –” followed by T’Lina’s, directed toward someone else, “You must leave this area at once.”

A familiar voice, and an unwelcome one, replied, “So sorry. This is a public place!”

Sarek turned in the direction of the voices and protectively maneuvered Amanda behind him. A holo-camera clicked, capturing his protective stance and framing them both under the large “Expressions of Love” banner in front of the museum.

It was one of the ‘gossip column’ reporters who had holographed them before. “Gotcha!” she crowed, winking slyly, before she and her holographer disappeared down the stairs.

Sarek controlled his frustration, taking a breath. Stell made as if to pursue but Sarek stopped him with a look. T’Lina spoke. “We ask forgiveness, S’haile. Our service was inadequate.”

“We should perhaps re-think our protocols,” Sarek concluded.

Amanda was crestfallen. “Sarek, I’m sorry. As part of this ‘cultural exchange’ we’ve been doing, I was supposed to help your embassy in handling the Terran press. I think I’ve done just the opposite.” She shook her head, looking up at the banner.

Sarek turned to her, his expression solemn. “Amanda, I would not have you censor your activities due to the bizarre proclivities of the Terran press. And as for any unintended consequences of our activities, I consider them but a small price.” Amanda was touched by his chivalry. As they walked down the steps themselves, Sarek added, “I shall notify T’Vey and she will address it.”

Amanda smiled wryly at him. “She is getting quite good at it.”

Still More Terran Press

T’Vey was indeed skilled in her role, and she was able to repress publication of the museum holopic in many but not all outlets. She noted that the holos themselves were now becoming a news item, with editorial debates beginning on the propriety of the press publicizing the ambassador’s “relationship.” While she found the rampant speculation of the Terran press on the subject rather irrational, she had to concede that the increasing number of holos featuring the kevet-dutar and Dr. Grayson did invite theorizing as to the reason.

She was also aware that it was a matter of time before the embassy was asked for a statement on the matter. She already knew the statement would simply be “No Comment,” not only because that was the usual embassy policy on matters not of central diplomatic import, but also because, in this case, she had no idea what to say.

Dismissal

Amanda had come up to meet Sarek about the translator when she noticed that T’Zia’s desk, near Sev’s, had been emptied and now sat vacant. It seemed like T’Zia had only recently arrived from Vulcan and now she was gone.

The day she had arrived had stuck in Amanda’s memory: T’Zia’s predecessor at that desk, a young woman named T’Nalla whose function was also unknown to Amanda, had just returned to Vulcan. T’Zia had appeared, offering Sarek some kind of ritualistic greeting and eying him in a strangely appraising manner.

Amanda had only been mildly curious up to that point; it was Sarek’s stiff and obviously unwelcoming response that made the incident memorable. Unfortunately, the studiousness with which both Sev and Soran ignored the exchange told her she would not learn any insights from them.

Now, with T’Zia departed, she resolved to ask Sarek.

Ships Burned

“Today was a major deadline for us,” Amanda said, almost solemnly, as they sat down with the translator. “We finished testing and de-bugging. The Deltan and Tellarite testing groups have signed off, and now all we need is Soran’s concurrence for the Vulcan Embassy sign-off, which we should have after this.”

Sarek inclined his head in agreement. “That is a major milestone, and you achieved it rather quickly.”

“Yes. My co-project leaders were unhappy with me, but last month I insisted we burn our ships on the beach by committing to meet this deadline before seeking our last tranche of project funds.”

Sarek frowned slightly. “I believe you are making a reference to the Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortez, but I do not fully understand.”

“Oh yes,” Amanda acknowledged. “You are correct the reference is to Cortez, and it means to commit oneself to achieving a goal by eliminating all other options.”

“Interesting.” Sarek appeared momentarily lost in thought.

“One more time. Do you feel lucky?” Amanda asked, holding out the translator earpiece. While she was hopeful that the translation errors had finally been eradicated from the translator’s artificial intelligence, she knew she would miss the many opportunities the project had afforded her to spend time with Sarek.

“No,” Sarek stated flatly.

Surprised, Amanda drew herself up in indignation. “Oh, really?”

Sarek took the earpiece, deliberately ignoring her nonplussed expression. “Luck is illogical,” he replied, “and in this case I am sure it is not needed.”

Shaking her head but smiling, Amanda acknowledged the point as his. “You are a tease, Mr. Ambassador!”

She spoke into the device. “I am gratified by your company.”

Sarek listened and then looked up. “I am gratified by your company,” he recited back.

For a moment they were both silent. “It appears functional,” Sarek asserted.

“Yes. It’s been reworked, tested and re-tested extensively before this. It looks like there won’t be any more surprises,” Amanda replied, her voice a peculiar mix of satisfaction and regret. Then, jokingly she added, “What a relief. Who knows what it would have come up with next after the last few errors?”

There was something unreadable in Sarek’s expression as he rejoined quietly, “Indeed.”

Amanda had been about to ask him about T’Zia but something about his manner caused her to hesitate. At that moment, Sev entered.

“S’haile, T’Pau is on the comm to speak with you.”

“Please excuse me,” Sarek said to Amanda as he rose smoothly and expressionlessly to take the call.

Summons

T'Pau's face filled the screen. Without preamble, she demanded, "Sarek, thou must explain thy behavior."

He would not be perturbed by her abrupt manner. "Specify."

“T'Zia is the third eligible female thou has dismissed back to Vulcan with no explanation."

He straightened further and stared back at her. "I do not believe any explanation is required."

"Thy time grows short. It is illogical not to select a bondmate promptly, particularly in thy position.” Her use of Old High Vulcan communicated her displeasure with him.

"I have time. It is logical to seek a suitable bondmate."

T'Pau's eyes narrowed. She received news reports from Earth and although much of what the Terran press reported made no logical sense to her, she was aware of the speculation focused on Sarek and a particular Human female. "It is not logical to delay any further. I see that sending candidates to thee is not effective. Therefore I am summoning thee home to Vulcan to complete the process here."

Sarek's brows flew up. "That is unnecessary, Matriarch."

Her voice hardened. "Thou forgets thy place, Sarek. I deem it necessary; therefore thou will come."

"I ask forgiveness, Matriarch," Sarek replied automatically. At this point he just wanted to end the conversation, but he refused to be maneuvered into an unwanted choice. “I wish to review my options before returning. This is my right. I will evaluate the list of candidates and will respond either with a choice or with my itinerary for returning to Vulcan. Will that be acceptable?”

T’Pau eyed him suspiciously. He had acquiesced too quickly. She, perhaps more than most, knew his stubborn, willful side. “Thou are too important to thy people to make a poorly reasoned choice,” she warned in tacit reference to the troublesome news reports.

“Am I also ‘too important’ to know a meaningful bond, Ko-mekh?” he asked quietly.

Sarek would not express the pain of an empty, and then a broken, bond, but T’Pau already knew. Her tone softened slightly, but she did not relent. “You will not disappoint me, Sa-fu. I expect to either know your choice or your plan to return here within one tevun-krus. Live long and prosper."

“Peace and long life, Ko-mekh,” Sarek replied as she leaned forward to cut the connection. He had much to do. He would, he hoped, soon make a choice.

Chapter 9: June, 2229

Accomplished and Sacked

“Sorry I’m late,” Amanda said, a little breathlessly when she met him in the courtyard the next Monday.

“It is of no consequence,” Sarek replied simply as he stood but Amanda didn’t fail to notice the warmth in his eyes. He was glad to see her. “Is anything amiss?”

“No. It’s done finally!” she exclaimed. “We turned the code and the specs over this morning.” The Universal Translator’s Phase I development was complete.

Sarek bowed slightly. “I offer my congratulations.”

Amanda smiled. “Thank you, and thank you for your role in it. It is a big accomplishment. The team deserves to celebrate. Ironically, though, we did a great job, and now we’ve all been sacked!” She gave a short laugh.

“’Sacked?’”

Amanda chuckled again. “Yes. Fired, laid off, made redundant, terminated…”

“Terminated?” Sarek asked again, this time with some concern.

“Oh no, I don’t mean physically! ‘Sacked’ and the other words mean ‘released from one’s job’ in this context. And I’m exaggerating a bit, to be fair to the Federation committee. The arrangement from the beginning was that the development team would create a working Phase I Universal Translator, and when we were finished we would be released to return to our previous positions or find something new. Several of the team, in fact, are going to take positions on the translator maintenance team that’s being formed now.”

Sarek nodded at her explanation. “And what are your plans?” he asked.

“Undecided, as yet,” Amanda answered slowly, looking up at him. “I could go back to Harvard, but I’d like to see what they have to offer first. I’m making inquiries elsewhere as well, to Oxford, Instituto Brasiliero, University of Mombasa and a few others on Earth, plus the leading languages institute on Rigel V that my brother recommended very highly.”

“Indeed.” Sarek’s expression was blank, but he was nonplussed. Although he had known the translator team would be dispersed when the project was complete, he had not realized that Amanda would very likely leave the San Francisco area for her next position. This was not an insurmountable issue, of course, but it was an added complication.

Amanda’s face was serious as she continued, unwittingly answering his unspoken question. “Unfortunately, there just aren’t that many options here. I’ve contacted the Monterey Languages Institute, and there are a number of Federation linguistics positions, but they wouldn’t offer the teaching component that I would really like to get back into. I do like being here, though.” Then her eyes crinkled with mischief. “I’ve put up with a lot to work in this city. Take the official who had the idea that I worked for him on the last part of this project. What a terror!”

Sarek picked up her reference to their argument seven point six two months ago – it seemed so long ago – and he replied in kind. “It could be that said official’s comportment ultimately proved beneficial, would you not agree? Perhaps you should consider the Vulcan Science Academy.”

“You’re very funny,” Amanda responded sarcastically, knowing he would object to her characterization. Then she looked thoughtful. “I hadn’t considered the VSA, actually. It would be quite an honor to receive an appointment. I just don’t know if they would have need of someone with my background.”

Sarek turned serious as well. This was an alternative that would at least be acceptable in the long term. “I am certain they would.”

Amanda looked at him strangely at this pronouncement. “Really? Sarek, you wouldn’t be trying to ship me off to Vulcan again, would you?” she teased.

Sarek merely arched a brow back at her. “I wish you to have access to all of the relevant options.” And if it weren’t for five thousand years of stringent conditioning, indeed I would have long since shipped you off to Vulcan.

At the end of their lunch, Amanda paused, almost shyly. "The awards celebration for the project team and everyone who has contributed is this Saturday. The whole Vulcan embassy has been invited, but I wanted to invite you personally."

"I am honored."

Sarek wanted to broach the subject of their future, but he knew this was neither the place nor the time, sandwiched in between meetings and work for the both of them. Instead, he pulled a data chip from his pocket. “You may find this of interest,” he offered. “It is a selection of Pre-Reform poetry.”

Amanda’s eyes lit up in that special way that moved him inexplicably. “Oh Sarek, thank you! I hope you won’t get into trouble for giving me this.”

“Just do not report my actions to the ambassador,” he replied gravely, earning some more of her pleasant laughter.

Pensive, he watched her until she was out of sight.

Pre-Reform Sentiments

The collection of Pre-reform poetry that he had given her was spellbinding. Sarek had told her that very little poetry from before the Awakening had circulated outside of Vulcan, and Amanda could see why. The often-passionate verse painted a very different portrait of the Vulcan people than what was typically presented. She was pleasantly surprised, after reading some, that he had even shared it with her. Now, her curiosity piqued, Amanda felt compelled to ask him about some that truly puzzled her.

“Sarek,” she asked him, “would some of these verses of T’Kel and Sanek be considered analogous to Terran love sonnets, like those of Donne or Browning?”

He hesitated momentarily before answering. “There is no direct translation. Some of these verses do celebrate ashaya, but the translation to ‘love’ would be incorrect. The Terran concept of ‘love’ is imprecise. Humans can ‘love’ another being but also can ‘love’ a sandwich – inanimate objects, foods, ideas… In Vulcan, the concept of ashaya only applies from one being to another, and would never refer to objects, preferences, or any other thing. And it is very infrequently discussed.”

“I see,” Amanda replied, noting his somewhat stiff demeanor. Deciding to move away from such an emotionally laden topic, she asked about another verse that had her puzzled. “Sarek, this one… it’s difficult for me to decipher some of the characters and symbols. They seem to be from an even older time than many of the other works in this volume, but I believe it’s titled ‘The Seeker,’ or perhaps ‘The Hunter’…? It seems to be written for or to someone like an ashaya verse, but I don’t understand all of the surrounding references — fire, violence, and insanity. What is this one about?”

To Amanda’s surprise, Sarek actually shifted uncomfortably. He was obviously far more reluctant to discuss this. He responded cautiously, “It is indeed quite ancient. Its meaning is… rather difficult to discuss…”

As if on cue, Sev interrupted them to inform Sarek that he was needed immediately in council. Sarek apologized and excused himself, leaving Amanda with the mystery of the unexplained verse. What meaning in an ancient poem could be so hard to discuss?

Celebration

Sarek entered the large hall alone, taking a moment to survey the scene before him. He beheld an unexpected sight. Amanda stood in the middle of a group of children from the Vulcan embassy as well as several of the Terran university students who had served as interns on the Universal Translator project. Sarek had observed before that her features were aesthetically pleasing, her body healthy, and the colors of her hair and eyes made a pleasant if unusual combination, but tonight was as if he had never seen her before. While her light blue gown was decidedly more feminine than the professional clothes she usually wore, and it highlighted her slender figure, it was not that different from other gowns he had seen her wear. Her hair cascaded in soft curls down her back. Again, pleasing, but not new to him.

Nevertheless, and against all logic, Amanda was more agreeable to his eyes this night than any before. She was absolutely beautiful. He startled himself with the intensity of the thought, and more so with the impulse to claim her company immediately. He resisted, observing her for a moment as she bent down to a group of the Vulcan children, introducing them to her interns and pointing out refreshments. Sarek felt a warmth in his chest as he watched her almost maternal actions. She was a brilliant scientist, a capable leader, and skilled in caring for others. Before he could ruminate further, she noticed him, and her face lit up.

“Sarek! It is agreeable to see you,” Amanda greeted him warmly, offering the ta’al.

Sarek responded in kind, stepping closer. “It appears to be a successful celebration,” he added, looking around while quelling the riot of illogical thoughts in his mind.

“Yes, it is,” she agreed. “Although I have to apologize in advance: representatives from several of the institutions seeking to hire translator team members are here, and it’s been difficult for any of us to hold a conversation unless it involves one of them.”

“Of course, I do not wish my presence to distract you from discussions of importance,” he replied graciously.

He was not quite prepared for the reality of the situation, however. It took twenty-eight point six minutes for them to cross the room to the bar, as they were stopped six times by university and linguistic institute representatives wishing to speak to Amanda about the merits of their particular institution. It was not the delay that Sarek found bothersome, but the inescapable fact that each of these organizations was seeking to lure Amanda away, to another city, continent, or planet. Away from him.

Finally, refreshments in hand, Sarek was gratified to have Amanda’s attention to himself for a few minutes when the lights suddenly lowered and the music volume increased. A Human with a microphone announced “It’s dance time, folks!”

“Oh, no!” Amanda laughed apologetically over the suddenly very loud, pulsing beat.

Before Sarek could respond, a young Terran male practically burst upon them from out of the crowd. One of her interns. "Hey Dr. G! May I have this dance?" He made an exaggerated bow before her, and Amanda laughed again.

"Oh all right, Tyler. Just this once!” With a quick apology to Sarek she allowed herself to be led away onto the dance floor, leaving him watching.

His first thought, that he could easily best this rival male, was quickly followed by the second, concern for his explicitly possessive thoughts.

The dancing continued for some time. Sarek took refuge by politely greeting those he knew, keeping watch on Amanda as she danced all the while. He was talking with Soran when he noticed she had left the dance floor.

When his eyes found her again, Sarek saw a tall Human male, perhaps a few years older than Amanda, receive an enthusiastic greeting from her. He stiffened involuntarily as she embraced the man and held him there for a disconcertingly long moment. Who is this? They spoke animatedly to one another and Sarek felt compelled to investigate. He excused himself from Soran and strode over, taking a position at her side.

“Sarek!” Amanda exclaimed with a smile as he approached. The man had seen him coming and was already watching him. She turned to the strange male. “John, this is my friend Ambassador Sarek whom I was telling you about. Sarek, this is my brother John, here on a surprise visit from Rigel V.”

“Nice to meet you, Ambassador,” John said simply, eyeing Sarek faintly suspiciously.

Sarek nodded and stared back, conspicuously expressionless.

Amanda watched the two men in confusion with the sensation that something almost primeval was going on. She sighed in exasperation. “Sarek, you’ll have to forgive him. John is my older brother and he often forgets that he can be over-protective for no reason. Isn’t that right, John?”

Neither man spoke, but fortunately, at that moment Madeline Juarez, Federation Under-Secretary for Education and Economic Opportunity, approached. “Ambassador,” she called, oblivious to the interaction before her, “perhaps we can finish that discussion about cross-world career training under the Centauri Accord?”

With that Amanda said to John, “Let’s get you something to drink,” and steered him toward the bar. “Excuse us,” she murmured to Sarek, her eyes apologetic. The Under-Secretary looked like she was planning a long discussion.

As the pair moved away Sarek heard their conversation drift back to him.

“So he’s the one you’ve been spending all your time with?”

“John – relax! We’re friends.”

John snorted in disbelief and Amanda bristled.

“We work together. Just where do you get the idea—”

“I know what I see,” John interrupted.

“You’re ridiculous,” Amanda exclaimed defensively.

“I have a Y chromosome and I doubt his is all that different.” His tone softened. “Look, Mandy, I just want you to be okay.”

“Don’t call me that. And I’m definitely ‘okay.’”

Sarek spent the minimal amount of time necessary to conclude his business with the under-secretary. His thoughts continuously circled back to Amanda, somewhere across the room, surrounded by those who would take her away. It was a testament to his Vulcan control that neither his Federation associate nor anyone else could detect the steady rise in his blood pressure, nor his intense desire to rid the room of all rivals, male or otherwise.

He reflected that he would not be so discomfited if Amanda were already safely his. His attempts so far to broach the subject with her had failed, and he chastised himself for not pursuing it – and her — aggressively enough.

Enough. His warrior instincts roused themselves. I must act now, decisively, to secure she-who-should-be-mine.

The lights dimmed another time. The PADD-Jay announced, “Last dance, folks! This one’s gonna be traditional,” he added. There were some loud groans from the dance floor, but he silenced them. “Sorry, it was a request.”

Sarek searched for and saw that Amanda was, for the moment, alone. However, his ears detected voices of people from one of the university groups attempting to hire her away; they were approaching, and he could tell they were intent upon engaging her attention once again. Not this time. Smoothly as a prowling le-matya he moved to her side.

“Amanda,” he began, catching her attention and bowing ever so slightly, “May I have this dance?”

Surprised, and more than a little mystified, Amanda could only nod, staring up at him as she took his proffered hand and followed him onto the floor. Given how their "dance lesson" had concluded weeks ago she could not imagine his motivation at the current moment. But she had no time to inquire. Sarek turned to face her, took her right hand in his left and placed his other hand at her waist. She held her breath.

The dance began slowly. Amanda recognized the piece as a classic waltz from Earth's 19th century, something about a river, she thought. She felt Sarek's hands begin to guide her and they started to move, slowly circling around the room. One-two-three, one-two-three... His steps were smooth and sure. She had started to relax when the pace of the music accelerated, and she recognized it as more than your typical beginners' box-step; rather it was a classical Viennese waltz, demanding much greater speed in addition to complex spins across the floor. She gulped inwardly; she had never danced this type of waltz before and she doubted she could compensate if Sarek faltered. It was all she could do to simply follow his lead as somehow he twirled her effortlessly across the floor.

For Sarek, the dance was not difficult once he’d had the rudimentary instruction. He was proficient in several forms of traditional Vulcan dance, and although quite different from this, those skills served him well now. His eyes reflexively swept the room for challengers.

Even knowing how inappropriate the impulse was, he wanted to claim her at this very moment. He wanted to know her thoughts, too; was tempted to allow his shields to slip so he could sense them. But he resisted. I have not obtained her permission.

He had sensed attraction from Amanda before, but he did not yet know if attraction in Human terms could extend to encompass the full physical and emotional reality of Vulcan passion. I am but a savage in my desire for you —what would you do if you had knowledge of this? He looked down at her and held her closer still, her thoughts still a mystery to him.

When Amanda looked up at Sarek she was startled by his burning stare, as if he were consciously ignoring everything and everyone in the room around them, daring anyone to interrupt his concentration — on her. She involuntarily sucked in her breath, and that tingling in her core returned with a vengeance. Engulfed by his presence, she tried to block the erotic images her mind conjured of what she would rather be doing with him at this moment. Maybe John has a point…

Focused on these unsettling thoughts and on following him, it took Amanda a moment to realize that they were the only ones on the floor. As they spun still faster she stole a wondering glance up at him, but his impassive visage revealed nothing. The music rose to a crescendo and suddenly the dance was over as Sarek spun her to a perfect stop. He released her slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. She blushed.

Amanda heard the unexpected sound of applause and realized it was for them. Sarek led them off the floor as if waltzing with her like that had been the most logical thing in the world. Unnoticed by the pair, the members of the Vulcan delegation in attendance did not react outwardly to their leader’s surprising behavior, but they all took note. Is the kevet-dutar making a claim?

In the ensuing semi-private moment Amanda whispered, "Sarek, that was amazing. When… how—?" She trailed off.

“I found your dance instruction to be quite...inspiring," he replied simply.

She looked up at him, breathless. "Well, Ambassador, I'd say when you set your mind to something, you certainly accomplish it thoroughly!"

"Indeed," was his only reply, still watching her with those smoldering eyes.

The event wrapped up quickly after that, the Translator team gathering briefly to say their farewells. Sarek soon found himself standing with Amanda and John in the rapidly emptying hall. John’s challenging stare had intensified since the last dance, but Sarek felt little concern for the Human’s belligerence. Amanda was his sole focus.

Amanda glanced between the two men, who still regarded each other silently. “Between the two of you, I feel like I had a couple of chaperones tonight. I haven’t had that experience at a party of mine since high school!”

“I come to serve,” Sarek replied drily.

Amanda laughed. “Well at least you have a sense of humor about it, unlike my brother!” She shot an exasperated look at John, who merely shook his head.

No, actually, Sarek thought, I most definitely do not.

Normally after an event such as this Sarek would escort Amanda home. Tonight, she begged off, apologetically explaining that she and John needed to catch up after her brother’s unexpected arrival. Sarek had wanted to speak with her, alone, as he had attempted twice before, but realized he had a long evening of meditation ahead of him instead. She looked back at him regretfully when she left.

ooo

Hours later, he reflected. The evening had been atrocious; too many rivals — people and organizations threatening to take her away. Meditation had only partially cleared his mind. His emotions regarding her were overwhelming and chaotic. He felt deep tenderness and raging passion, violent protectiveness and serene peace in her presence. He had attempted to rid himself of these troublesome emotions but found at best he could keep them marginally controlled. In this situation, the philosophy of c’thia told him that he must accept the reality of their existence, and do his utmost to control his reactions to them.

He knew she would need to decide on a new position in the near future and he also knew he needed to act soon, before failure to do so threatened his control. He could no longer continue without resolving the ambiguity in their situation.

Recognition

After Amanda said goodnight to John, she reflected on the evening. The event had been a success. The Universal Translator team and their guests had enjoyed themselves with a well-deserved celebration of almost two years of hard work. Several of her team members had secured new positions by night’s end, and she herself found she had more options to consider than she would have imagined possible.

Thinking about those options, Amanda realized with a pang she didn’t want to leave San Francisco for her next position. Specifically, she didn’t want to leave because Sarek was here. Commuting to another Earth city was easily done, but it wasn’t the logistics that were at the forefront of her attention. Over the past several weeks and months, her feelings of attraction for him had undeniably grown and strengthened, and although she had never explicitly communicated any of this to him, she had definitely detected some of the same from Sarek. She didn’t want to let that go.

She also realized how unique it was that she felt strongly enough about him to influence her thoughts about her next move. It had been so long since she’d actually had any attachments significant enough to matter. She was always able to stay in touch with her friends wherever she moved. But for someone who was more than a friend —perhaps a lot more than a friend — that just wasn’t going to be sufficient.

And in addition to the emotional attachment she knew she felt for the Sarek she had come to know and care for, there was something else. Tonight she again had detected that particular undercurrent from him – dark, male and possessive, all tightly controlled, but undeniably there. Underneath his urbane, diplomatic exterior lurked a hidden side of him, very male and dominant, and she had to admit it thrilled her. It contributed to his commanding presence, but he always kept it out of sight and under wraps. Nevertheless, Amanda had glimpsed it and was mesmerized by it. She wanted to see that side of him, out in the open.

When she fell asleep that night, her thoughts still tumultuous, she dreamed she was swimming her typical work-out in her gym’s lap pool. She relaxed in her dream, into the familiarity of her body’s rhythmic movement and the feel of the cool water. Strangely, though, after a few minutes the water became warm, too warm for the pool, then hot. Then the hot water transformed itself again, becoming hot sand against her back, everything around her no longer blue but red, and the water against her front suddenly becoming a hot, solid body whose strong arms embraced her. She did not need to see his face to know whom it was that held her.

Observations and Conclusions

Back at the embassy, the discussion was succinct, logical, and certainly discrete. The staff returning from the Universal Translator event briefly analyzed their leader’s rather notable behavior that evening.

“Does he make a claim on the Human?”

“He engages a significant amount of time with her, more time than Embassy business would suggest.”

“And his behavior in her presence has been atypical. He voluntarily walks in the rain with her.”

“Indeed; he ventures out onto open bodies of water at her invitation.”

“They appear to debate for sport.”

“He tolerates her Human emotions.”

“Perhaps he attempts to bridge our two cultures by doing so.”

“He willingly touched her in public this night. They are both unbonded.”

“Indeed; he seeks to make a claim.”

“This is illogical speculation. His actions could be explained in an entirely diplomatic context.”

Silent stares of polite disagreement.

“But will the Humans understand such a claim? Does she?”

“Uncertain.”

“She knows of many of our ways.”

“But not of these matters.”

“Logic dictates that he make his intentions clear.”

“Indeed.”

And Yet Still More Terran Press

The Universal Translator celebration had clearly been enjoyed by the many diplomatic and Federation officials in attendance, and it was an excellent showcase of the outstanding technological accomplishment that was the translator. However, instead of the diplomatic sections of the news vids covering it or the event in any depth, all of them focused on one detail: a clip of the Vulcan ambassador waltzing across the floor with one of the translator team’s lead investigators.

After only a few hours, the feeds were running side-by-sides of the dancing couple and the holo outside the “Expressions of Love” exhibit, making it clear that the pair in both pictures was the same. By the end of the day, the holo of them leaving La Belle Étoile had joined the line-up. The headlines invariably made the progression of holos seem that much worse, running the gamut from the mildly clever, “Not Lost in Translation at Universal Translator Wrap-Up Event,” to the leering, “Testing the Translator, or the Translator Developer?”

Further, the discussion surrounding the coverage had broadened. The debate over the propriety of the press’ coverage continued, but now there was a new dimension: vid and text letters to the editor that commented on the apparent relationship itself. While those defending the apparent couple’s right to privacy were generally favorably inclined toward them, this new thread was generally disapproving. Like should go with like, the argument went; Humans should seek out other Humans, and Vulcans most definitely should not get involved.

ooo

Sarek was in UFP Attorney General Arne Stewart ‘s office that afternoon to discuss some recent legal questions raised about the Centauri Accord. Stewart was one of the few Human colleagues Sarek had high regard for and considered a friend; he was efficient and usually quite logical in his approach. The two had known each other for years and had worked together for as many. Stewart had been recently appointed to the Federation Judicial Council and would take his new post soon; Sarek congratulated his friend on the advancement.

They had concluded their business when Stewart happened to glance up at the newsfeed screen on his wall, which at that moment was showing the clip of Sarek and Amanda waltzing across the floor of the UFP headquarters ballroom underneath a speculative headline.

Stewart shook his head, watching the vid. “You know, Sarek, the press really seems to have it out for you.”

Sarek replied, “What the Terran press considers newsworthy is sometimes difficult to comprehend.”

“Well, of course,” his colleague acknowledged, “but in your case it seems they’re really digging for something.” He paused. “That’s Dr. Grayson, isn’t it?”

Sarek did not respond directly. “One would imagine that the press would seek targets with a higher probability of producing interesting news than myself or my colleague.”

Stewart regarded his friend with some concern. “I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, but just be careful, Sarek. I’ve seen more than a few diplomatic careers sidelined on this world by manufactured scandal.”

Discussion with Soran

Standing in the main hall, Soran eyed the members of the Universal Translator team who were moving their effects out of the embassy, transitioning on to new positions or back to the ones they had left prior to joining the project. Looking over at Sarek, he ventured, “I understand Dr. Grayson is looking for a new position following the conclusion of the Universal Translator project.”

“Yes,” Sarek replied, studiously focusing on his PADD.

“Perhaps she could be offered a position at the embassy.”

This drew Sarek’s attention. He considered his old friend for a moment, weighing what to say. “Dr. Grayson is eminently qualified in a variety of disciplines, and would no doubt be a valuable addition to the embassy staff. However, my k'war'ma'khon, I cannot extend her such an offer at this time.”

Soran was confused by that. He knew his friend was speaking of something of a personal nature by the way he had addressed him as brother-by-choice, but was momentarily at a loss to understand what it could be — until the one possibility occurred to him. Perhaps he had not misinterpreted the signs he had seen after all. His eyes locked on Sarek’s. “You seek a… personal relationship with Dr. Grayson?”

Sarek did not directly acknowledge his friend. “Human mores are quite specific in this situation, though there are frequent exceptions. However, I must respect them.”

Soran was silent for several seconds, and Sarek wondered what his reaction would be. Then Soran spoke. “What you contemplate will not be easy, my friend. However, it is a fitting example of Kol-Ut-Shan, of IDIC. Dr. Grayson is a most logical choice.”

Chapter 10: July, 2229

The Healer I

At his first open time period in the morning Sarek went in search of Healer T’Alen. He hoped to get in and out of the healer’s office quickly and without revealing the reasons behind his query, but he knew that was both illogical and unlikely. If he had to divulge personal information to T’Alen, so be it. His inquiry was necessary.

In addition to overseeing the health and well being of the embassy’s residents, the healer had also utilized her assignment on Earth to study Human physiology. Sarek was hopeful that this knowledge would prove useful.

She rose when he entered her office. “How may I be of service, S’haile?”

“I seek an answer to a question, Healer.”

T’Alen dipped her head. “Of course. And what is your question?”

He decided it was best to simply plunge ahead. “I wish to know if your research on Human physiology has revealed any indications as to whether a… Vulcan-Human marital bond might be possible.” His voice was flat, as if his interest was merely theoretical.

If T’Alen thought anything of the question she did not indicate it. “I know of no Vulcan-Human pairings,” she began. “However, Vulcan and Human brain structures are similar. While Humans in most cases lack the psi capabilities possessed by Vulcans, there do not appear to be any physiological barriers to a Vulcan forming a bond with a Human. It is, I believe, more an issue of the Human’s psychological ability to bond than any physical barrier. Assuming the Human is able, the bonding process would be essentially the same, although it would be wise to have a healer verify the integrity of the bond.”

“Understood. Thank you for sharing this knowledge, Healer.”

T’Alen paused a moment, gazing levelly at her superior. "If I am overstepping, I ask forgiveness, S'haile..."

Sarek nodded and waited.

"Dr. Grayson is strong,” T’Alen continued, watching him carefully.  “A bond has a high likelihood of success."

Sarek’s barely visible nod confirmed her assumption. Healers are always so perceptive, he thought. T’Alen is no exception.

"S’haile, if you would allow me..." The healer raised her right hand, fingers splayed.

Sarek reluctantly acquiesced to the healer's request, knowing it was necessary.

She touched his mind briefly, probing for the minimum amount of information to ascertain what she needed to know.  When she withdrew, she informed him, "You are prepared to make the bond. "

Sarek knew as much, but was gratified to have the healer's confirmation.

T’Alen continued with a warning. "If you do not bond with Dr. Grayson, you must see me again, S’haile."

"I surmised as much," he replied quietly.  She was telling him he had already begun a bond, and if he did not complete it, he would need a healer to erase its remnants, lest he be unable to bond with another when his Time came. He had been through this once before, when his bond with T’Rea was dissolved, and he did not wish to dwell on that possibility with Amanda.

Pulling his thoughts back to the present, he took his leave of the healer. “Your work is commendable, T’Alen.”

“I come to serve.”

“Your service honors us.”

Just as he turned to leave, T’Alen spoke again. “S’haile.” Sarek turned back to face her. “I would be honored to perform the Telan ceremony for you and Dr. Grayson.”

Sarek tilted his head in acknowledgement. “It is I who am honored, T’Alen.”

The Seeker

She found it on her desk the next day, the page of paper, itself sealed in a paper envelope addressed with her name, anachronistically incongruous with the kaleidoscope of data chips surrounding it. For some reason Sarek had chosen to hand write the piece rather than deliver it to her electronically. His script was elegant, beautiful even, and captivated by it, she sat down immediately to read. Amanda sucked in a breath when she realized what it was he had written for her.

Veh vi Shi’kar T’Aitlun

The Seeker of the Sought

— Ri-fainu —

— Unknown —

Shi’kar nash-veh du

I seek you

Nam-tor ri vath.

There is no other.

Fai-tor du yeht’es t’nash-veh

You know my truth

Ri wi trasha du nash-veh

Yet do not forsake me.

Stron-tor ri nash-veh bolaya-noshtralar

I cannot escape my essential nature

Ngiq’e nash-veh ainlar t’sutenivaya

Assuming vestments of civility

Nam-tor au goh pasut dirik

They are but a crude disguise

Fai’ei nam-tor nash-veh goh kei-aushfamalurh

For I am solely a brutal savage

Sai-vei-tor nash-veh svi reshan heh raullar khrashik t’ish-veh

Clad in rage and its violent implements

Pakik s’kashkau eh yeht-kash’es

Lost to mind and sense.

Fawak vashau nash-veh katra maut

I will destroy the very essence

T’fan-veh vi thraptor du

Of any who would offend you

Il palikau lam-tor au svi etek.

Or attempt to stand between us.

Lam gluder t’mal-nef svi plak t’au

Standing knee-deep in their blood

Fawak kum-tor wi nash-veh du.

I will still claim you.

Sa~pu-tor du plak

You wash the blood away

Samuyau du tau eh hayal du lakht

Cool the fever and calm the rage

Sahaisau du so-resh

Dispel the madness

Tan-tor du nash-veh ha’kiv t’nash-veh pla

You give me my life back

Tor du nash-veh yeht-kashik va’ashiv

Make me sane again

Kal-tor du nash-veh ha-tor va’ashiv.

Let me live again.

Yontau nash-veh na’du

I burn for you

Heh goh du

And only you

Nam-tor ri vath.

There is no other.

Samuyau du qsa’ksas ni’rchlar

You cool the raging fires

Ta shivau au nash-veh tash-tor

That I am helpless to control

Yontau etek teretuhr

We burn together

Abi’ herbosh nam-tor etek

Until we are spent

Heh yi kup etek ha-tor va’ashiv.

And then can live again.

Im’roi nash-veh fa-du

I walk before you

Fosh-tor heh dor-tor nash-veh du

Protect and honor you

Ti hakiv t’nash-veh na’du

Lay down my life for you

Ek’ ta ma eh nam-tor nash-veh

All that I possess and am

Katra goh t’nash-veh

My very soul

Tan-tor nash-veh du-tor.

I give to you.

Nam-tor nash-veh t’du.

I am yours.

Shi’kar nash-veh du

I seek you

Nam-tor ri vath.

There is no other.

Kup du korsau vi nash-veh

You who can save me

Nam-tor khaf-spol t’ash-veh t-du ek’wak

My heart is yours eternally

Nam-tor du t’nash-veh.

You are mine.

Even though she sat in the privacy of her office, Amanda’s face burned when she read the poem. There was something raw and elemental about it, and even though the author had lived some thousand years before Surak, the fact that the poem was written here in Sarek’s own hand made it seem very… personal. Personal and current. Even his short, terse, attached note — “Amanda, Translation as requested. – Sarek” — contributed to her impression, as if he could not explain the poem’s private meaning any further.

If she accepted what she was reading into it as true, then she was forced to acknowledge that their electric close encounters were not simply her imagination.

Amanda did not understand what was described by the mixture of raw passions that she perceived in the ancient, alien poem. But if there were, in fact, fevers and fire – and more – somewhere hidden in Sarek’s psyche, she did not feel fear. Instead, she wondered, Could I be the one to calm and cool them?

At that thought she realized: I love him. And she knew that she had loved him for some time.

That knowledge was at once familiar and freshly new, and it made her tremble. Does he have any idea he has captured my heart? And would he ever reciprocate the feeling? We are from such different worlds… But she could not deny all of those charged moments when a spark – no, a flame — had flared to life between them. Perhaps she could if there had only been one or two, but there had been too many to discount. And they had catalyzed her elemental attraction to this man, setting it ablaze.

She recalled her first “love” in high school, and various infatuations and attachments since. They were nothing compared to what she felt now; this was substantively different, far more powerful and real. I do love him, and the depth of what I feel both scares and thrills me. I’ve been hiding what I feel as though it’s some dark secret, but keeping secrets has never been my nature.

Was Sarek possibly sheltering a similar secret – and was that what the Seeker’s words were meant to tell her? With all that they had experienced together and with what her intuition now demanded she acknowledge, Amanda knew she would have to find out.

Messages home

Late that afternoon Sarek strode purposefully to his aide’s desk. “Sev!”

“S’haile?” the aide answered tentatively, seeing that Sarek was not in a mood to be trifled with.

“I need you to send two communiqués immediately to Vulcan. First, to my clan matchmaker: Her services are no longer required. Second, to T’Pau: I will not be returning to Vulcan at this time. I will update her on my status shortly.”

“It will be done immediately, S’haile,” Sev replied meekly, even now imagining the response they were going to get from the matriarch.

Sarek was already striding away.

Stargazing

Sarek sat on the hillside in the cool Terran evening, a part of him in disbelief at his own circumstances. He found himself in a position he would have thought utterly inconceivable just a few short months ago, sitting in the grass at night in a park, pointing out stars to the Human woman next to him, she leaning against his shoulder. The woman to whom I plan to propose marriage. Tonight. She relaxed against him as they surveyed the evening sky, and, in spite of his nervous system’s currently heightened state of reactivity, he found it… pleasant. Illogical, but… very pleasant nonetheless.

Though the evening had begun at his request, the venue was her idea, an outing intended to afford them privacy from the intrusive press. They had arrived on this hillside after dark, and she had acquainted him with the Terran legends associated with the constellations in the night sky, inviting him to share comparable Vulcan lore.

After awhile she had leaned back slightly, to get a better view of the overhead star he was describing, when her shoulders had brushed against his. At the unexpected contact with his thick robe Amanda had pulled away, murmuring an apology, but Sarek forestalled her.

“Your touch causes me no discomfort. Please, rest,” he had said, and she had smiled, shyly, and had settled against him, gingerly at first, then slowly relaxing. He found he… enjoyed the feel of her leaning against him, and found himself imagining again how more extensive contact with her body, her mind would feel.

From her position now at his shoulder, Amanda asked, "Which one is Alam’ak?"

He noted she used the Vulcan name, not the Terran designation and he stretched his long arm overhead toward a single distant light in the night sky. "That one, there. The sun of my world is approximately sixteen point three nine light years in that direction."

She said nothing, but settled ever so slightly closer to him.

“What do you know of Vulcan?” Sarek asked, desiring to know her impressions of his world.

“The usual, from history texts and vids to start, plus Vulcan language study as a graduate student,” Amanda replied.

“And what was your impression?” he inquired further, for he took great interest in her answer.

“From the holo-vids I’ve seen, it’s a beautiful planet, and so different from Earth. And you know of my interest in your culture. I’ve learned enough about it to know there is still a great deal I don’t know.” About Vulcan culture… and about you. Amanda paused to look at him before continuing, wondering if he would perceive the double meaning she intended. “But I believe to really understand a culture you have to live in it. I would love to live on Vulcan for a while someday.” She looked at him again. “What about you, Sarek? Would you like to go back home?”

“At some point I will have to return to Vulcan to assume hereditary duties. Although I do not anticipate my assignment taking me from Earth in the near future.” He continued, “And as for your desire to live on Vulcan, I am certain you will have the opportunity if you seek it.”

“I hope so,” Amanda laughed, amused by his certitude. “You owe me a trek through the desert, remember?”

Most definitely, I do.

They remained in comfortable silence for several minutes. Sarek looked down at Amanda’s head resting lightly on his shoulder, an act that would have been intrusive by any other, and his thoughts again turned to what had brought him here, both literally and figuratively. He knew what he wanted. He debated how to broach the subject with her. Conveying his thoughts by allowing his shields to drop was appealing but not appropriate; he would need to speak. He could not tell her; he had to ask. She was not Vulcan; her answer was not a foregone conclusion. The strange yearning tugged powerfully at him like a tide in the Terran ocean. He tried to quell the unfamiliar anxiety causing his stomach to flutter.

His thoughts were interrupted as Amanda shivered, looking up at him. “Sarek, you must be getting cold, because I’m starting to feel a little chilly. Perhaps we should go inside?" As true as this was, Amanda was reluctant to end their outing; it had been… special.

As she spoke, Amanda felt like a nervous adolescent with a crush. Trying to conceal her emotions, not to mention her physical impulses, from Sarek was becoming exhausting. I’ve never been a keeper of secrets… At some point very soon, she was going to have to risk a frank discussion with him before she did something she regretted. Tonight? But his friendship was precious to her, and she couldn’t bear the thought of damaging it, or hurting him in the process.

Sarek did not want to part from her, did not want her taken from his side for any reason. And he needed more time with her; he would not be forestalled by circumstances again. “It is not too late,” he answered easily. “May I suggest we go now for some tea?” At her nod, he stood and helped her rise.

His hands were still on her arms when their eyes locked, and Amanda found herself lost in the depths of his. Caught in their spell, she allowed a jeopardous impulse to overtake her. I’ve been guarding these feelings all night and longer, but I have to know… Forgetting her vow to hold a reasoned conversation first, she reached up, fingers touching him lightly on his jaw, and kissed him. I love you.

Amanda heard his ever-so-slight intake of breath, felt his body freeze. He just stared at her, wordlessly, and she was mortified.

Her words rushed out. "Sarek, I am so sorry! I shouldn’t have done that. I— I don't even know what to say." Had he been Human she would have touched his arm to emphasize her point, but she halted herself awkwardly in mid-motion. Why, oh why did I think it was a good idea to kiss him? Way to go, Grayson, she thought. Take a perfectly good friendship and mess it up with one impulsive act. She had been an idiot, to touch a telepath unexpectedly like that, and now she felt terrible for invading his privacy.

It had been blindingly wonderful for an instant, when he had suddenly felt her mind, and her emotions, through her touch – her warmth and great affection for him, desire, and something deeper... Sarek desperately wanted more. But instead he worked to regain his control as he searched for a response to her embarrassed apology. “Amanda, no, no apology is needed. I, I — it — it was not… unwelcome…” Vulcan’s Ambassador to Earth was stammering.

He stopped, then took a breath to start again. Amanda waited, anxious.

“Amanda,” he began solemnly once again, “I wish to –”

The spell was suddenly broken as gurgling and spitting sounds filled the air. Sarek recognized the sounds as liquid in origin but could not interpret their meaning. Amanda's eyes darted around them and she exclaimed, "Oh no!" grabbing his sleeve and pulling at him as water suddenly came at them from all directions. "Sprinklers!" she cried as they ran toward the path.

They reached the paved pathway and she was laughing now, partly at their watery predicament and partly in relief that the tension of the moment had been broken. "Well I guess now we know when they water the lawn!"

He looked down at her in question. "The purpose is irrigation—?"

"Yes, it keeps the grass green. Soaking visitors is not usually the intent. How badly did you get sprayed?"

Not quite believing that he had been interrupted yet again from initiating this most important conversation with Amanda, Sarek sought to extend their evening once more. "It is of no consequence. However, I would like to escort you to your home."

“Oh my, you’re drenched!” Amanda exclaimed, looking at him more closely in the dim light. “Let’s get you dried off at my apartment. I won’t have you catching cold!”

He did not protest further as his time with her would now be extended. They rode in silence, each preoccupied with their own thoughts, Amanda wanting to make amends for the awkward kiss, and Sarek searching for a way to explain that his reaction had not been a rejection, but in fact quite the opposite.

Once at her apartment, Amanda beckoned Sarek inside and went to get him a towel. “Here,” she said, “At least dry your hair. And I can dry your cloak in the sonic.”

Sarek removed the wet garment and handed it to her. “You are wet as well,” he observed.

“Oh, I’ll be fine,” she said, waving dismissively. “Please, dry your hair!”

Instead Sarek stepped closer to her and cupped her shoulders in his large hands. “I insist that you take care of yourself as well,” he commanded quietly. “Your well-being is… important to me.”

“All right…” she breathed, looking up at him, heart thumping. He is so close again…

Looking down into her eyes like portals into an endless blue ocean, Sarek found himself unable to stop from slowly, inexorably leaning forward to gently place his mouth over hers. What am I doing?? He was still for an instant before Amanda recovered from her surprise and moved her lips against his.

This was different than their first, abortive kiss. Amanda wondered momentarily if Vulcans kissed at all and whether he would pull away again, before Sarek responded and pulled her to him, now pressing his lips firmly down on hers. She sighed and melted into him, and he gripped her more tightly.

Until this moment he had only understood this touching of lips from observation; he had no idea it would be so pleasurable to him. And it was obviously pleasurable to her. He deepened the kiss and felt her respond again, her tongue darting between his lips. Spurred onward, he continued until Amada gasped for air. Then he pressed more heated kisses urgently along her jaw and down her throat, his fingers leaving trails of fire as they followed behind.

“Oh, Sarek…” she whispered, running her hands up his back.

As she pressed her body against his, Amanda’s vibrant emotions pulsated through his touch — desire, affection, more – and he knew she could sense those feelings from him as well. The raw, intense desire they shared for one another was shocking, provocative – and wildly uncontrolled. Sarek realized suddenly and belatedly that he had grossly misjudged his ability to engage in this behavior with Amanda and maintain an acceptable level of control.

Part of him knew that to continue was a bad idea; the risk of losing control was too great. Another part of him didn't care. He was too close now to touching that which he desired so greatly, what he knew he needed, and what had been just out of reach for so long. He didn't fully understand the depth of his feelings for Amanda, for nothing in his life bore any resemblance to it; he just knew it encompassed and so far surpassed the animal urge to mate that he had to explore it further.

Only dimly aware of his surroundings now, Sarek pushed her back toward the wall. He heard her moan, felt her cool, soft skin underneath his fingers…

He just managed to halt the male juggernaut that was his body. He broke away, his breath ragged. “I beg forgiveness! I should not be… touching you in this way,” he ground out unevenly.

“It’s okay, Sarek,” she protested, weak-kneed against the wall. Her body was on fire and she was in awe of the open floodgate of passion he had just revealed to her. What is happening here? Amanda wasn’t sure, but she knew she had never been more aroused in her life.

“No,” he continued, his eyes closed in concentration. “It is improper. We are not bonded. I must not.” In perhaps one of the greatest tests of his Vulcan discipline, he managed to reassert some control over his aroused body. He feared that if he did not, he would not be able to stop until he had bonded with Amanda – the urge was that strong — and he could not do that yet. He must know that she was willing, and that she had all the facts to make an informed decision.

Amanda was touched by his desire to honor her, even as she desperately wanted to join with him. “Sarek—” she began again, breathless.

Sarek gently touched a finger to her lips for an instant, then slowly pulled his hand away. “Now is not the proper time,” he said softly as he worked feverishly to retain the little control he had. “However, I would very much like to continue this… conversation.”

Is that what we were having? “I would like that, too,” Amanda whispered, regaining some of her own composure. “But first, Sarek,” she continued, knowing that she needed to address the issue, “I want you to know something about me. Our traditions may be quite different in this regard, but for Humans – or at least, this Human – a physical relationship is very important when two people are… more than friends.”

Sarek took in the meaning of her words. If he wished her to consider him a potential mate, he would have to accommodate this need of hers. Although he could find doing so... logical, it did mean that he would have to rely on the control that was so sorely tested just a minute ago.

“I believe I understand you,” he said slowly. “Our traditions are different. There are not even words in my language to describe ‘more than friends,’” one corner of his mouth tilted upward at the phrase, “other than those for bondmate.”

Noting with approval that she did not flinch at the word bondmate, he stepped closer again to brush a tendril of hair away from her face. “Diversity is something to be celebrated, however,” he concluded, raising a brow.

Amanda smiled. “I’m sure we can teach each other whatever we need to communicate,” she replied gently, thinking of the possible directions this discussion could take. “But I don’t want to distract you from the conversation you wanted to have.”

Sarek realized with a start that it was going to be more difficult than he had originally thought to convey all that he wished to her. Still, he must explain fully, even if doing so ultimately drove her away. He turned toward the large picture window in her living area and stared out for a moment, hands behind his back, gathering himself before he spoke.

“I must apologize in advance for my poor communication skills.”

“Your poor communication skills?” Incredulity coupled with concern tinged her voice as she noticed his newly tense bearing.

He nodded resignedly before he turned to face her. “Yes. The matters of which I must speak are… difficult.” He took a deep breath. “My clan has requested my return to Vulcan… to select a mate.”

He heard the sharp intake of Amanda’s breath. Steeling himself, he forged ahead. "Amanda, please allow me to explain. This is because, among my people, all adult males must bond. It is a biological necessity.” He paused. “What I must tell you now is something of which we do not speak, not amongst ourselves and never to outworlders.”

“Sarek, you don’t have to –”

“No! I want—I need – you to have all the facts. Please.” His sudden urgency startled her.

He gripped his hands even more tightly behind his back and continued, his voice taut. “Typically our mates are chosen for us when we are children. We are each bonded telepathically to our future mate when we are very young so that we will be drawn together for marriage… when it is necessary. I was so bonded once. My people have shrouded a great shame in ritual and tradition, in order to prevent… violence and social chaos.”

Sarek’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “We – that is, all Vulcan males – experience a… a periodic… drive which… strips our logic, our very sanity, from us. It is the pon farr.” He knew she could translate the term. “At this time we must mate, or we die. In the process we lose… all control. It is shameful. We are plagued with this approximately every seven years of our adult lives.”

There was a moment of hushed silence before he spoke again. “As you know, I am divorced. My unbonded state cannot be allowed to persist. I have forestalled my clan matchmaker for several months, and now my family simply seeks to secure my life.

“It is quite the cruel irony that a people who pride themselves on the rule of logic and peace should regularly have its members reduced to a state of animalistic insanity, threatened with death by the need to reproduce,” he concluded bitterly. “No doubt you find this repulsive.”

Amanda was silent for a long moment, taking this all in. It was not what she expected him to tell her at all. Her heart went out to him, seeing in the rigid lines of his body the toll it had taken on him to tell her this.

"Sarek, why would you think I would be repulsed? Mating is a part of life."

"Not this kind of mating,” he whispered, lowering his head.

Realization dawned. “This is what The Seeker is about,” she said quietly, recalling the vivid words, and he closed his eyes again. “Oh Sarek, every species has something about which it’s not proud, but shame isn’t really logical, is it? ‘Ma etek natyan teretuhr lau etek shetau weh-lo'uk do tum t'on. [We have differences. May we, together, become greater than the sum of both of us.]’ Then she added, “I can’t imagine ever being repulsed by you.”

Sarek did not look at her but drew in a small breath, relieved that she wasn’t utterly appalled.

Amanda wanted to go to him, touch him, somehow comfort him further, but she held herself back, settling for words instead. “I’m sorry you have to experience this. And of course I will keep your confidence. Is it… happening now, for you? Is that why you need to go to Vulcan?”

“No,” he responded hastily, leaving Amanda more confused than ever. “It is not yet imminent.” He paused again, and looked directly at her. “And I do not intend to return to Vulcan to select a mate. I have sent word as such.”

Amanda shook her head in consternation. “But Sarek, you just said –”

Sarek interrupted again. “I also want you to know... that I do not desire to bond with anyone on Vulcan.” He swallowed. This was even more difficult than discussing pon farr. As he began to speak once more, he reached for her hand, his eyes seeking silent permission to express what he could not say in words. “Amanda, it would seem I have burned my ship upon your shore.”

Moving as if in a dream, she gave him her hand, trying to parse out his intent. Surely he doesn’t mean —

The result was dramatic. The sudden connection flooded each of them with the surging emotions of the other. Amanda was rocked to her core as she experienced his incredible longing; his fierce sense of protectiveness; potent, tightly leashed passion; and a thick, powerful emotion comprised of pure devotion and primal possessiveness — for her. An incredibly powerful feeling projected toward her; he perhaps didn’t define it as love, but that was how she understood it. His were not merely feelings; they were passions, stronger and more tempestuous than any Human emotion she had ever perceived. All of this was there in him, had been there…

Sarek was overwhelmed by Amanda’s feelings – waves of deep affection, desire to be with him, desire to care for him, and something much deeper, much stronger. He sensed self-sacrifice, too: she cared for him deeply, but had not wanted to risk their friendship, and now was willing to let him go if that would secure his safety. And she wanted him, fiercely, like he wanted her. Her passionate emotions matched his own.

He was stunned to discover that her feelings for him had existed for some time. Curious and ironic, even, that they had each arrived at this same place without the other’s conscious knowledge. But it is so very welcome now.

My God… she thought, staring at him in wonder. But before she could think any further, Amanda was stunned to see him lower himself onto one knee, still holding her hand in his. He looked up at her, his intense, dark eyes searching hers. "There is no analog between our peoples for what I wish to ask, Amanda. In fact, I must confess my logic is rather... uncertain in this area. However,” he said softly, “it has occurred to me that it is illogical to search for what one has already found.” There was silence for a brief moment. “Amanda,” he continued, his voice husky, “I wish for you to become my bondmate, my aduna. If you will have me, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Taluhk nash-veh k'dular

Unable to breathe, Amanda stared at Sarek, on his knee before her. Even as she had known she was falling for him, had hoped for some portion of her feelings to be returned, she had not allowed herself to think that this impossible dream could become reality. “Oh, Sarek…” Then the tears began to fall.

He rose up quickly. “What is wrong? If this overture is unwelcome —”

"Sarek, stop," Amanda interrupted him, her smile brilliant through her tears. “I love you, too.” Then, she put her hands gently on his face and leaned up to kiss him softly on the mouth.

The soft waves of her emotions were pure heaven in his mind. Sarek returned her kiss, making it deep and long as he ran his fingertips along her jaw and throat. Amanda luxuriated in the feel of him for a moment, the electricity from his touch and the even stronger passion that emanated from him.

He pulled back to look at her again, his eyes a silent question. Amanda wrapped her arms around his neck, her face serious. “Sarek, are you sure? What about the bonding between Vulcan couples that you described to me? Can we even bond? I don’t imagine I’d make a very proper Vulcan wife, either, you know. And what about your clan’s matchmaker?” She looked up at him, slightly embarrassed by her flurry of questions.

For the first time since they left the park Sarek’s eyes held a flicker of amusement. His voice rumbled low, “The matchmaker has been… sacked.”

Amanda laughed.

“And I am aware you are Human, Amanda,” he continued, one corner of his mouth quirking upward. He added solemnly, “I can think of no one I would rather have as my wife. There is no other. It will be my duty, and my honor, to protect and provide for you. You will want for nothing. It is also… theoretically possible for us to have children, if you wish them as I do.

“Finally, yes, it is possible for us to bond, if you are willing.” He became earnest. “But you must be sure, Amanda. Between Vulcans, the bond is very difficult to break, and it is almost never done. I do not know if it could be undone in a Human. You would have to assume it would be permanent.”

Amanda felt a thrill surge through her like an electrical current. She loved him so much; this decision made perfect sense. She had never cared for anyone as deeply as she cared for him, had never been moved by anyone as much as he moved her soul. As she considered everything that had passed between them in these past short months, she knew what her answer must be.

She stepped close again, resting her hands on his chest and fixing him with her gaze. “I have never been surer of anything in my life. We can meet any challenge together.” Her mouth widened into a joyful smile. “Yes, Sarek. I will marry you!” Then she kissed him again.

Part of Sarek’s brain tipped into overload at the sound of her words and the fresh waves of her joyful emotions. She will be mine! Instinct drove him. Bending his head toward the juncture of her neck and shoulder, he gently bit down, marking her in the ancient way. Amanda gasped in surprise but he felt the surge of her arousal, too, and it urged him on. Again he marked her, more forcefully this time, and she began to pull at his robes. Passion enveloping him, he responded in kind. Fabric tore.

For the fourth time that evening their lips met. This time Amanda captured Sarek’s mouth aggressively, twining her fingers in his hair, pressing her body into his. Intensely aroused, Sarek gave himself over to the physical sensations. He pulled her more tightly against him so she could feel his desire. She moaned.

As clothing dropped from their bodies to the floor, their two progressively more naked bodies urgently clutched at one another, hastily exploring as they sought to learn one another’s contours for the first time. Human and Vulcan differences faded in importance as the urgent drives of male and female came to the fore, desperate, finally, for release. Amanda took Sarek’s hands and pulled him toward the bedroom. She had taken but two steps when he simply swept her up and carried her to her bed. The last of their clothes vanished somewhere along the way.

As he lowered them both to the mattress, Sarek knew what was about to transpire. He would possess his mate. She was not yet his wife, but she would be, and that was sufficient. He wanted her fiercely, and knew that she desired him in the same way. This joining was going to happen now.

He could feel the brush of Amanda’s mind when they touched. Craving that contact but conscious enough to avoid her katra points as yet, he ran his hands over her as though he couldn’t touch her exotic Human body enough. Her soft curves, responding to his every caress, filled him with wonder as he sought to explore every centimeter of her. His sensitive fingertips roved over her breasts, her hips, the smooth curves of her belly, her thighs. He explored her exquisite softness, her hard nipples and firm muscles – every part of her is fascinating — allowing the tactile stimulation to fan the flames of his ardor. Amanda whined and moaned, intoxicated.

Amanda’s passionate vocalizations startled Sarek momentarily, but he quickly ascertained that her cries emanated from pleasure rather than pain. And discovered, to his surprise, that he found them arousing. Very. He varied his touch, gauging her reactions. Fascinating… He was unable to suppress a quiet growl as he continued to work her body.

Amanda just let herself be carried away by the physical and emotional floodtide roaring through her. She had guessed, and now confirmed, that Sarek was an amazing physical specimen. His body was magnificent, and he used it with rare skill. Chiseled and strong, he took her breath away; feeling his bunched and rippling muscles under her fingers was like a drug to her senses. She reveled in the feel of his heated, leanly muscled presence and in the surprising sureness with which he moved over her.

That dark, male presence she had detected before in him was clearly at the forefront now. Flooding her mind were his want, need and desire, to possess and to claim, to demonstrate to her what he could not put into words. And he was going to. She was both helpless against the onslaught of his emotions and enthralled that she could engender such primal passion in him. Claim me, now, and I will claim you…

As Amanda’s gasps and cries of ecstasy increased, his hands grew bolder. One trailed down to explore her sex, slipping inside her depths. She writhed in his arms, her moaning more intense, her breath coming heavily now. He nibbled insistently at her collarbone and throat while his fingers continued to work their magic. Suddenly her whole body tensed and she cried out, shuddering against him. For an instant he was afraid he’d hurt her, until her shy smile and the pleasure emanating from her told him what had occurred. Amazing, that she reacts so to my touch…

Amanda’s chest heaved as she recovered from that first climax. Almost immediately she began to shift her hips against him again, desperate to be closer still. Unable to stand being separate from him any longer, she gripped his biceps tightly and pleaded through gritted teeth, “Sarek, I want you now. Take me…”

Sarek’s pupils flared so widely his eyes went almost black. Consumed with desire, he arched his fully aroused body over hers. He paused for the slightest moment to regain some control and their gazes locked. It had been an eternity for them both, waiting for this moment. Without breaking eye contact, he surged into her. Gently, he held her close as he slowly, insistently thrust into her moisture-laden depths, her body opening up to his.

Awash in the alien, but so intensely satisfying sensations, one of his last coherent thoughts was, Such a creature of her watery world. He felt her muscles tighten around him and he thought he would be lost.

Amanda gasped at the feel of him, then let out a long sigh that rapidly became a moan as he slid inside, filling her completely. Utterly possessed by him in that instant, she clenched her body tightly around him, her arms and thighs around his body and her inner walls around his lok. For a moment they stared at one another, breathless and transfixed as if surprised to find themselves suddenly joined.

He began to move inside her, slowly at first, almost maddeningly so, then faster. He slid back outward, teasing them both before he pushed back inward even further. Surrendering to an urge as old as life itself, they moved in tandem. He built to an intense, erotic rhythm, his upper body tensing and flexing as his hips drove into her. Amanda met his pace, clutching him and meeting him thrust for thrust, moaning with every centimeter of movement. She tightened more around him and urged him onward with her hands, fingers and legs. Truly caught in the throes of passion, he dug his hands into the bedcovers behind her, urgently pushing harder and faster to drive them both closer and closer to climax.

Sarek felt her orgasm beginning as her muscles clenched forcibly and began to spasm in a rippling cascade. Her breathing ragged, she cried out, throwing her head back and gripping his back with her fingers and nails. “Oh God, Sarek!”

The feel of her body and the sound of her ecstatic cries set his mind aflame, his body rushing toward its own climax in response. His whole body tightened, tensed, and then they both convulsed together with violent intensity as he erupted, claiming her with his seed. They jerked and pulsed in ragged unison, her soft cries echoing the low groan that forced itself from his throat.

When they finally became still, they simply held each other tightly as their breathing slowed, bodies softly trembling. The newborn intimacy between them was simultaneously sudden and yet satisfyingly right and necessary, as if they had been lovers for ages.

Amanda stared up at him above her, taking in the strong lines of his neck, the elegant tips of his ears, incredulous at what had just passed between them. They had become one, and she never wanted to let him go. “I love you, Sarek,” she whispered. Then, “This is really happening, isn’t it?”

She felt a curl of amusement swirl outward from him along with his dry response. “I am reasonably certain that neither one of us is hallucinating at this time,” he murmured, his breath on her neck, and then she felt a headier wave of his want and devotion.

“I want to know what it will be like to bond…”

Desire again rushed through him at her words. To be inside her mind… He steeled himself. Not yet. He was not aware of a Human – or any other alien, for that matter – ever bonding with one of his species. They were treading in virgin territory, and he wanted to be certain he did not bond her against her will. Soon…

She was speaking again, wide eyes searching his. “I want our minds to touch …”

Sarek forced himself to think. A logical request before bonding. He nodded slowly. “We can mind-meld,” he said, his voice ragged to his ears. “It is a sharing of thoughts, but it is not permanent. The meld is a stronger connection than what we sense from each other when we touch, different, but similar to a bond. A meld requires continuous touch, while the bond does not.” He hesitated briefly, and Amanda had the odd sense he was embarrassed.

“We will only be able to meld briefly,” he said, looking down. “My control is uncertain.” He raised his eyes to hers again. “You know I desire you.”

“Yes…?”

He took a breath. “Among Vulcans, the greatest intimacy is not physical, but mental. And the urge to bond is an instinctive one. I need to ensure that you are not… swept away against your better judgment.”

“You mean you might need to stop yourself from initiating a bonding if we meld?” She did not question him further; it was obvious he was uncomfortable as it was. But she was touched. And she trusted him.

He nodded, slowly sliding apart from her and sitting up. “Please forgive my protective nature. It is a common trait of Vulcan males and a particular hallmark of the S’chn T’gai clan.”

She eyed him with a mix of skepticism and amusement. “So you would protect me… from yourself?”

“From all who could harm you, including myself,” he responded seriously. “With my life.”

Oh. “Sarek, I trust you. Let’s do this.”

Sarek’s pupils flared again, and Amanda felt a twist of apprehension and excitement in her core. “Amanda,” he rumbled, “May I share your thoughts?” She nodded, eyes wide again. His fingers reached for the katra points on her face.

Amanda gasped in amazement at the rush of images and emotions he let go through this more powerful link. She could feel his thoughts and his passions in her mind, a torrent of mental energy.

After a moment, as if he could sense her struggling, the torrent seemed to slow down, and she could tease apart strands of thought – his childhood, his family, his interests, his dedication to his work, his strong sense of duty… his passion for her. His mind was powerful and beautiful, and it was a heady realization that that passion seemed barely contained.

//As your mind is beautiful and strong,// she heard his mellifluous voice speak in her mind, and she could sense his thoughts of admiration as he explored her consciousness. Sarek was fascinated by her brilliance, her compassion, her creativity, her sense of humor, and her strong and rapidly shifting emotions, which she seemed to handle with ease. And he was astounded by her love for him.

Amanda was amazed at how right the touch of his mind was; but before she could simply relax into it, his mind-voice grew somber. //There is more you should know. You must be sure...//

The thoughts and images she saw became startlingly dark and violent. Images of ancient Vulcans battling to the death over mates, highly ritualized ceremonies designed to contain the violence, a racial memory of lust and shame. And then – and she could sense his reluctance at sharing these – Sarek’s fractured memories of his own pon farr: thoughts of sex overlaid with more thoughts of sex and lust, interlaced with violent intent toward anyone who interfered. Finally, a glimpse of his mind-set when he had escorted Michael from her office and at the Universal Translator celebration – astounding protectiveness and possessiveness for her, and shocking, barely leashed aggression toward… everyone else? Then a thick wave of his own shame.

Amanda was astonished. I had no idea…

//You must understand that I would never consciously harm you, Amanda. You must also know that I am but a primitive animal beneath a thin veneer of logic.//

Stunned by the sudden and vast departure from the calm and refined diplomat she had come to know, but honored that he dared show her these darkest parts of himself, she thought back to him, //We are all animals. It’s what we do with ourselves that matters. I love you.//

//Vulcans control. This is why we must. I must. To not is to fail ourselves and our race, for it is always there.//

//I know. I love you.//

Somehow her thought comforted him. Love was that illogical Human emotion, but in it he perceived her utter acceptance of him in all his parts, greater acceptance than he granted himself.

//If we bond, you will be mine and I will be yours. You will be mine because in my Time I must have you and only you. I will be yours because you will hold my life in your hands. Should you reject me then, I will die.//

Amanda recognized the enormity of the commitment he was making to her, and she was awed and honored by the depth of his trust in her. She could see that the devastating cycle of pon farr, a drive she had not known of before tonight, would cast a substantial influence over their lives together. But even if Sarek were not subject to this life-or-death biorhythm, she couldn’t imagine ever leaving him, ever not being there when he needed her.

And Vulcan or Human, any marriage would face its trials. Long ago her mother and father had counseled her to seek out respect and communication as well as love. Respect and communication were necessary nourishments to love, they had said, and love provides the fire that makes the respect and communication worthwhile. Respect and communication she and Sarek had already built as friends, even in disagreement. The love, hidden for so long, was a new, precious discovery. She knew Sarek could follow her thoughts, and she was glad for it. //Sarek, I will never leave you for as long as I live. I will be there for you, and I will always be yours.//

//And I, yours.//

The emotion she felt washing over her was an amalgam of happiness and a sense of rightness at the meeting of an instinctive need.

Sarek was momentarily overwhelmed at once with gladness and anticipation that his need to bond would soon be met and with a depth of feeling for Amanda that simply staggered him.

For Amanda, she had no idea how long they had been linked, only knowing that it could not have been very long, but in that instant she could no longer imagine what it would be like to live without this connection.

A moment later, she felt something else – his growing arousal. He pulled her closer to him, and she could feel the arousal of his body on hers and in her mind. She responded – the intertwining of their minds and bodies was irresistible…

//No. We must stop before— // she heard in her mind and an instant later she found herself sitting next to him in a tangle of sheets, blinking and disoriented, his hands on her shoulders, the meld broken. Sarek was breathing heavily.

Amanda felt alone in her own mind. Shivering, she let out a whoosh of breath. “You were right.”

Sarek closed his eyes and began, “I ask forgiveness—”

She startled him by taking his face in her hands. “You don’t need to, Sarek. I want to bond.”

Sarek’s brows shot up. “You do?” He had expected she would want more time to adjust to this unfamiliar concept, although as he heard himself ask, he realized this question was not particularly logical.

“Of course, silly,” Amanda teased, “How else am I going to marry you? About that,” she continued, as she wrapped her arms around his slender waist, “what exactly does happen next? I’ve never done this before, you know.”

“Indeed, I do not believe anyone has done what we are planning,” Sarek answered. “To answer your question, first, we will bond. There is a traditional ceremony, but it is not essential for the bonding. As telsular, we will be more than engaged, in your terms, but not yet married. Then I would imagine a Terran or Federation ceremony would be appropriate, if you wish it. The Vulcan marriage ceremony will come later, when it is… my Time.” He hesitated a moment, the ghost of pon farr in his mind. “Is this still… agreeable to you?”

Amanda hugged him tightly. “Absolutely, my love.” She ran her hands across his cheeks and into his hair, tantalizingly brushing his katra points. “Sarek…” she whispered, staring into his eyes and again voicing her desire, “I want to bond.”

A rush of emotion flooded through him that he fought to control. It was not logical to delay further. He fiercely wished to secure his claim to her, and, he decided, it was also logical to please she who would be his mate. And at this moment, he desired this more than he had ever wanted anything. Yes, this was right.

His voice deep and raspy, he murmured, “Amanda. If we continue, it will be difficult for me to do other than to take our actions to their logical conclusion. Are you certain?”

She nodded with conviction. “I am.”

It is time, then. He would claim her now, for all time. His eyes aflame, he encircled her body with his free arm and pressed his lips hard onto hers once more. After a moment he drew back, eyes silently asking her the question one final time.

Amanda whispered, “I love you, Sarek. I want this. I want you.”

“And I, you.”

Sarek touched her psi points, and closed his eyes in concentration. He murmured in Vulcan, “My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts…”

Amanda again experienced him entering her mind, his presence strengthening and his consciousness intertwining with her thoughts along with his emotions as he sought to control them.

Sarek felt their minds come together. He gently but purposefully searched through her consciousness to find the points he needed to bond. Her mind was comfortable and so very welcome where it touched his, and he knew that despite their differences, this bond would be successful.

It already felt qualitatively different from what he had experienced with T’Rea. He allowed a part of himself to simply feel grateful for the improbable reality that, across the vast possibilities of space and time for them both, they had found each other.

Amanda felt the connection, at first deceptively tenuous, like spider silk, then growing stronger, binding them together. And it felt so… good. Comfortable, secure and intimate for each of them. What an incredible gift, she thought.

She heard the words in her head, heard him speaking them, and found herself joining him, reciting the ancient chant as though she’d always known it. “Parted from me and never parted, never and always touching and touched...”

Silence fell between them.

“Sarek?” she whispered.

//I am here, K’diwa. Words are not necessary, // he echoed in her mind.

//You can hear my thoughts?//

//As with the meld, the ones you project outwardly, yes, when we are touching. I will help you learn to shield the thoughts you wish to keep private. The bond also allows us to sense each other’s… presence when we are not in physical contact.// Sarek could feel her wonder, her happiness, and her love. This is indeed real.

Sarek removed his fingers from her face, his eyes bright. “It is done,” he said softly. Then he took her face in his hands again and gently kissed her.

Amanda’s eyes were bright again with happy tears. She could feel his happiness, his great relief (which was quite endearing), and that stronger feeling that she knew he would not call love. “I love you, Sarek,” she murmured again.

Before he answered, Sarek extended his first two fingers and touched them to hers.

Amanda gasped at the surprisingly intense sensation, like an electrical jolt along her fingertips and a flaring of their mental contact.

//This touch of fingers is called the oz’hesta. It is a touch between bondmates that is acceptable in public, and yet very intimate, as you can tell.//

//I’m going to have to learn to control my reactions if we’re to use it in public!//

//I suggest that would be a worthwhile effort.// His dry humor bubbled like subtle effervescence in her mind. //Taluhk nash-veh k'dular, Amanda. [I cherish thee, Amanda.”]//

He then slid his fingers over her hand and around her wrist, leaving a tingling trail of fire along her skin. He moved his fingers to her cheek, along her jaw, and down her throat to her collarbone. Amanda sighed and moaned, and as she saw him swallow while his eyes slipped closed, she knew this was intensely pleasurable to him as well. When she focused on their bond, she was thrilled that she could feel his pleasure, too. Extending her own two fingers, she traced them over the tip of one of his ears – and gasped again as his arousal surged in her mind.

Amanda realized with a jolt that the experience of intimacy, of ultimate pleasure, was different for a telepath, and that now, because of their bond, she could share that experience with him. Feeling what he felt at the same time as she experienced her own sensations created a heady feedback loop of ecstasy that took her breath away. At the same time, the sensing of each other’s thoughts yielded an intimacy, a sureness of the other, that made even the intense closeness of Human lovemaking pale in comparison.

Recognizing the sensitivity of his hands, she caught one of them and pressed her fingers into his palm and stroked, then aligned her entire palm with his, pressing their fingers together. She was rewarded with his shuddering breath.

//You learn quickly, my intended,// he thought and she felt a rush of desire that was both hers and his.

Sarek raised both of his hands to hers and slowly slid his palms over hers, causing what felt like an electric current to flow between them. Then slowly, erotically, he dragged his fingers and palms up her arms, down the length of her body and back up over her breasts to her shoulders. Amanda moaned.

Positioning himself between her taut thighs, he raised his ready body over her and locked his eyes with hers again. //Yes…// Those eyes lit with fire once more as he again thrust up and deeply inside.

Amanda gasped and then they both held still for a moment once more, in awe of the feeling as now both their minds and their bodies became one. Sarek was awash in tenderness as he held her there, relishing the feel of her thoughts, her body, what he had wished for them to experience together for so long. She is mine and I am hers. This is a kind of joy for which there are no words.

//We are k’diwa,// he thought to her, and she understood. K'hat'n'dlawa — two halves of the same soul.

//K’diwa,// Amanda confirmed, eyes closed with the intensity of the moment. She could feel him and how she felt to him. Such all-encompassing feelings of love and possession, both emotional and physical, were even more astounding when she considered that, only a few hours ago, she had been debating whether to kiss him, she knew that little about how he felt. Aware of the tremendous effort it must have taken for him to express all that he had to her, she was simply in awe of this man. Tears of tenderness welled up, and Amanda could not stop them from spilling over.

She sensed Sarek’s momentary confusion, followed by wonder, as he reached up to touch the droplets on her cheeks. //You are not unhappy… You are in fact very happy. I do not yet understand…//

//We have time to learn how to understand one another,// she answered and felt him smile in her mind.

Time and space stood still as they moved together in exquisite pleasure. They moved slowly this time, without the urgent need of their first joining; instead this time concentrating on every sensation they could both feel, sharing every thought. Sarek held her as she shuddered through each orgasm brought on by his lok, tongue and fingers; and then their bodies blazed in passionate unison as they came together.

The dam having now been breached, they could not be stopped. The night’s hours passed with them joyfully entangled together, exploring each other in every physical way possible, bodies entwined with passion and tenderness, ardor and gentleness, until they eventually collapsed in each other’s arms to sleep.

The Morning After I

Amanda woke in darkness, her head cushioned on a warm, muscular chest that gently rose and fell in the relaxed rhythm of sleep. Oh yes, not a dream. Fondly watching Sarek in the innocence and vulnerability of slumber, she took the private moment to again reflect that less than twenty-four hours ago she was debating whether or not to reveal the extent of her regard for him, and now their lives were irrevocably joined. And that joining felt incredibly… right. Comfortable, she enjoyed the pleasant hum of his presence in her mind.

She felt relief, too, that the ambiguity and tension between them had been resolved, looking forward to a much clearer and more certain future together. She knew he felt this even more so for a host of biological as well as emotional reasons, and she recognized the solid weight of responsibility on her shoulders – she now held his life in her hands. But even the gravity of that seemed but a small price to pay in return for the breathless joy her heart felt and the knowledge that this was exactly where he wanted her to be, where they both wanted to be.

She fell back asleep, dreaming of what had transpired this night.

The Morning After II

Sarek awoke as the sun was just beginning to light the morning sky. As he looked down at Amanda’s sleeping form and recalled the events of the evening before, he felt the overwhelming urge to mate with her again. I cannot believe she is mine, he thought, illogically he knew, and he turned inward to sense their new bond, thrumming with energy. They had joined multiple times during the night, but still he desired to claim her again.

He had previously regarded the urge to mate as merely a necessary if distracting physical phenomenon – like hunger pangs or fatigue, a biological reminder of behavior required to ensure the continued health of the individual or the species. He now possessed a new opinion in this regard, especially since the biological urge was accompanied by new, confusing emotions – a tenderness and desire to protect that swamped even the want and need. Fortunately such desire was acceptable between mates, for he felt it in abundance.

The strength of Amanda’s fervor for him was also a pleasant surprise. She had matched his drive all night long. The memories aroused Sarek further.

He was just attempting to calm his body when he heard the sound of his comm unit softly beeping. Climbing over a tangle of bedcovers and quickly rummaging through his discarded clothes, he answered the unit.

Soran’s concerned face filled the small screen. “Are you well, S’haile?”

Sarek relaxed his features. “Yes, quite well.” He glanced over at Amanda’s sleeping form.

“Please forgive the intrusion,” Soran continued. “I became concerned when the security records showed you did not return to the embassy last night. Do you require an escort back to the embassy this morning?”

“That will not be necessary,” Sarek replied swiftly but smoothly. Ignoring the question in his friend’s eyes, Sarek added, “Your efforts are commendable, Soran. I will join you in three point five v’hrallar.”

Ending the call, he returned to bed, gathering Amanda in his arms. She stirred slightly, but remained asleep. Gazing at her peaceful features, he contemplated his unlikely journey to this place, and knew that he had arrived at the right destination. He considered what must happen next, and while he knew the hurdles they must surmount, to his mind they had already overcome the greatest one. They had found each other. He was well pleased.

Night Watch

Outside Amanda’s apartment building, two Vulcan security personnel attempted to appear as inconspicuous in the dawning light as they had been when they dutifully followed Sarek’s flitter to this location the night before.

“It will be warmer soon, Ko-kugalsu,” Stell murmured to T’Lina.

“Yes,” his bondmate responded, “Although this is more agreeable than the rain.”

“Indeed.”

“Do you anticipate when the kevet-dutar will return to the embassy, Sa-kugalsu?”

“I must confess I do not completely follow Osu Sarek’s logic at this time,” Stell replied with some resignation.

“Agreed.”

Intercession for a Friend

It was still early morning when Soran arrived at Sarek’s office to find the ambassador’s door closed and Sev looking as distraught as possible while still retaining some control. “Is something amiss, Sev?” he inquired.

“The kevet-dutar has not yet arrived,” Sev replied, looking concerned. “I am not aware of his whereabouts and he has not answered his comm. I was considering activating his subdermal locator.”

Soran’s brow furrowed. “There is no need for that. Osu Sarek is addressing some… personal business this morning.”

Sev nodded, processing this. “S’haile, I am anticipating a call from Vulcan in three point two lirt'k for Sarek.”

“Oh? What is the nature?”

“He was to meet with the S’chn T’gai matchmaker in Shi’Kahr at T’Pau’s command. Before he departed the embassy yesterday, he canceled the trip.”

Ah. Soran pursed his lips. “When that call arrives, I will handle it.”

Three point one nine lirt'k later, T’Pau’s face filled the screen in Sarek’s office where Soran took the call.

“Where is Sarek?” she asked sharply, dispensing with preliminaries.

“He is away from his office at this time, Matriarch.”

“When is he to return?”

“Uncertain, Matriarch. He is away on… personal business.”

T’Pau’s eyebrows arched skeptically. Even though it was illogical, Soran had the distinct impression that he was once again a schoolboy under her harsh gaze, attempting to explain some youthful indiscretion of his or Sarek’s.

“This is not typical behavior for the kevet-dutar.” It was a statement, not a question.

“It is not,” Soran replied reluctantly.

T’Pau’s expression was of a le-matya eying cornered prey. “How do you explain this, then?”

“I cannot, Matriarch,” Soran answered honestly, although he did have a reasonable hypothesis. He knew Sarek had gone to see Dr. Grayson the night before. Although he could not think of why the ambassador would not have returned to the embassy, Soran suspected the linguist had something to do with his absence. He did not think he should share this supposition with T’Pau, however.

“I have spoken with him, and expect him to arrive here in one point five v'hrallar,” Soran added, hoping to appease her.

“This is most irregular,” the Matriarch replied, clearly not at all appeased. “He will contact me as soon as he arrives.”

The screen went dark before Soran could acknowledge her command.

The Morning After III

Amanda awoke in Sarek’s hot embrace. A small smile fluttered across her lips. Not a dream, still… He was staring down at her, watching her as she slept. “Mmmm,” she purred, snuggling into his chest. “Do we still need that bonding ceremony...?”

She could feel him smile in her mind. //It is rather… a formality at this point,// he replied, stroking her hair. Switching to words, he asked, “Did you sleep satisfactorily?”

Amanda could see the warmth in his eyes. “Yes, thank you, just not for as long as I usually do,” she answered, smiling mischievously.

“I ask forgiveness,” he replied, poker-faced.

“Don’t you dare,” Amanda laughed. Smiling lazily as she pulled him closer, she murmured, “Come here, my intended,” enfolding her arms around his neck.

Caressing her amazingly soft body and wrapping his hands in her wondrous hair, he did exactly that.

ooo

Some time later, as they lay contentedly, Sarek stirred, aware of the time. Before his scheduled duties began, he wanted them to see the healer. While he was confident of his own abilities, extra care in the formation of this most important of connections was justified. “My ko-kugalsu, there are arrangements we should discuss.”

Amanda stretched and turned toward him. “Let’s discuss, then,” she smiled.

Sarek nodded. “Although the bonding ceremony itself is no longer necessary, I would like us to see Healer T’Alen at the embassy as soon as possible, to ensure that our bond has been properly formed and that you will suffer no ill effects.”

“I feel fine, Sarek, but of course, certainly,” Amanda agreed, snuggling into his chest again, sleepily caressing him.

“I believe it would be logical for us to announce our betrothal,” Sarek continued. “On Vulcan such announcements are not made beyond the family. However, given the level of Terran press interest in our activities, it is my thought that a direct announcement may result in less intrusive behavior by the press than if we did not.”

Amanda nodded, wondering what kind of a media circus they were in for in any case. “That makes sense.”

“I would also like you to move into the embassy.”

Amanda’s jaw dropped. This was the last thing she expected from her self-admittedly conservative Vulcan fiancé. She pulled away to look at him. “Sarek, what?”

“For security. It is my duty to keep you safe. And,” he added quietly, “I prefer to have you close.”

A flurry of disparate emotions flooded through her. Remain calm, Amanda told herself. “First of all, Sarek, I will consider the security issue, but I don’t plan on jumping to any conclusions about whether I need to move just yet. Second,” she continued, gently but firmly, “I’m touched that you want me close. I want the same. But I can’t simply cease existing as my own person.” This she said thinking of what other requests might come in the future. Sarek looked confused. “And finally,” she concluded, “if I were to move into the embassy, we would almost certainly need to have a Federation wedding ceremony beforehand.”

Sarek took a breath. Amanda had surprised him once again. Evidently, even when a course of action appeared logical to him, it was still advisable that he ask her, and not tell her, he thought, reminded once again of their early interaction over the Universal Translator. Choosing his words carefully, he responded. “Amanda, I do not mean to suggest that I wish you to ‘cease existing’ as yourself. Logically, I do not see how this could be a concern. And as your bondmate, it is my duty to ensure your safety and your contentment. We should… discuss the options for ensuring such,” he concluded diplomatically.

“Okay,” Amanda acknowledged, a little warily. “Just don’t forget I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.”

“Of course. I am curious about your last statement, however. Why…?”

“It could be a scandal here on Earth if I were to simply move in with you before we were married. Even if I lived in another apartment at the embassy entirely, to the outside world, it would make little difference. The resulting fuss would probably make it difficult for either one of us to do our jobs.”

“We are bonded,” Sarek objected. “And it was my understanding that Humans in general were more… casual about such things.” Sarek schooled his expression as expertly as ever, but Amanda could still see his confusion.

“My beloved,” she sighed, “Humans are inconsistent. We hold vastly differing opinions as a group and often hold double standards. Many can easily justify in their personal behavior what they would severely criticize in a public figure’s. Most also won’t understand the permanence of bonding, either. Given what we’ve already seen, I think we need to have the traditional Human ceremony before either of us changes residences.”

Sarek considered. Curious. “It would seem logical to defer to your expertise in this area. What is involved in a Human marriage ceremony?”

“Well, there are many different kinds of ceremonies. Usually, though, there are two parts: a ceremony where marriage vows are exchanged followed by a separate celebration. The first rite is where the couple is actually married and the second gives the bride and groom a chance to celebrate with their families and friends.”

Sarek’s brows rose. “The couple attends the second ceremony?”

Now Amanda was puzzled. “Yes, of course. Why?”

Sarek merely shook his head slightly. “It is quite different on Vulcan.”

The Healer II

A short while later, Sarek and Amanda walked together down the long embassy corridor. They had walked this way many times, down this very hallway, but never had Amanda felt as self-conscious as this morning.

Not only were they going to see Healer T’Alen so that she could get inside their heads and examine their new bond, but Amanda had been mortified to discover that Sarek’s security guards had waited all night outside her apartment building.

Now, their new bond pulsed with energy between them, and Amanda felt sure it had to be visible in some way – in her features, in how they interacted, something. She detected Sarek’s confusion at her discomfiture.

“I assure you Amanda, there is nothing for anyone to see that would reveal we are bonded,” he murmured.  “Only if we were to use the oz'hesta would that be apparent.”

Amanda smiled to herself knowing it was her own giddy feelings of love and
nervousness that made her feel as though there were a blinking billboard floating above her head. “Never mind,” she said with a chuckle in reply to Sarek’s quizzical look.

When they arrived at Healer T’Alen's office, Amanda took a deep breath and fought the desire to take hold of Sarek's hand.  She had met T’Alen before, but never anticipated that the healer would look inside her mind. “I'm nervous,” she admitted.

“There is nothing to fear,” Sarek reassured her quietly. “Healer T’Alen is highly skilled. Healers are strong telepaths, but she will not invade your privacy. She will touch your mind, as I have done, and mine as well, to ensure the integrity of our bond.”

As they held this hushed conversation outside the healer’s office, T’Vey passed by, observing them. Her ears told her that the pair entered a moment later, the doors whooshing closed behind them. She decided to detour to Sev’s desk.

T’Alen rose smoothly at the couple’s entrance, carefully appraising the Human woman at Sarek’s side. While T’Alen could detect unease from her, the Human did not show it. Admirable.

“Healer,” Sarek was saying, “We have bonded, and we seek your appraisal of our bond.”

“I am honored to serve, S’haile,” T’Alen answered and stepped toward them.

Sarek raised his two fingers and Amanda’s joined them in the oz’hesta. “Kneel,” the healer instructed. Silently she raised a graceful hand and placed it at Amanda’s katra points, following a moment later with Sarek’s. Amanda braced for the feeling of another mind inside hers but instead was surprised to feel nothing.

T’Alen’s ageless face appeared serene as her eyes closed for a long moment. The bond she had been asked to examine, the first between a Vulcan and a non-Vulcan, was very strong – surprisingly so. And the Human’s mind was not ill-affected. Most interesting.

When her eyes opened again, T’Alen looked directly at them both, bidding them to stand. “Amanda Grayson, House of Earth, S’chn T’gai Sarek, House of Surak, I declare thee well bonded. Thy bond is strong and true. Honor thy bondmate and walk in peace, so that at the proper time you will both be drawn to Kun ut Kalifee.”

“Live long and prosper, Healer,” Sarek intoned.

“Peace and long life, S’haile Sarek and T’Sai Amanda.”

Back in the corridor, Amanda wasn’t sure she felt any more bonded than before but she could sense Sarek’s satisfaction. She was curious about one thing, however. “Sarek, what does ‘marriage or challenge’ signify?”

“In ancient times, we killed to win or retain our mates,” Sarek answered matter-of-factly. “It is rare now, however.”

Amanda’s eyes widened. Only ‘rare’ now? “I hope that’s something I never have to learn more about,” she murmured.

Before he could reply, Sarek’s comm beeped. “Greetings, S’haile,” Soran spoke as soon as he appeared on screen. “I must inform you that the matriarch wishes to speak with you immediately.”

“Thank you Soran. I will attend,” Sarek replied, turning toward his office. “She wishes to speak to me about our bonding,” he added to Amanda almost absently as he contemplated the likely tenor of the conversation.

Amanda sensed stiffening resolve in her new bondmate and turned to him as they walked, concerned. “Why is T’Pau so interested in your bonding? And how does she know already?”

“I do not know for certain that she is aware. The familial bond conveys only limited information, but a bonding is… profound. She may have sensed this in me.” At Amanda’s confused look, he clarified further. “T’Pau is my clan leader. She is also my mother.”

Amanda was speechless, but her shock rolled into Sarek through the bond.

“I will need to teach you how to shield, my intended,” he commented drily.

“Sarek,” Amanda began in exasperation, “since last evening, someone kept me awake almost all night; I’ve had more telepathic encounters, possibly, than almost any other Human alive; have discovered your security team knows you spent the night with me; and now have just learned that the leader of one of the Federation’s most powerful members is also my future mother-in-law, and I believe you are to blame for all of it. Excuse me!”

Sarek looked down at his small Human bondmate. “Indeed,” he said quietly, extending his two fingers. “I shall have to, if this is the correct Terran phrase, make it up to you,” he murmured.

Amanda’s eyes softened at his touch and she could have sworn he had been about to kiss her in the deserted hallway when Sev rounded the corner and their fingers dropped.

“S’haile! I am gratified to have found you. T’Pau calls for you…again,” the aide announced.

Amanda sighed. “I’ll see you later.”

//You are fatigued, K’diwa,// Sarek told her silently, his fingers brushing hers as his robe swirled against her. //Please, go to my quarters and rest. I will join you when I am able.// He watched her depart for a moment before squaring his shoulders resolutely and entering his office.

Discussion with T’Pau

T’Pau was concerned. She sensed a change in the tenuous maternal bond that, subtle though it was, was highly suggestive that her son had bonded. Since she also knew that none of the eligible females selected by the clan were on Terra or in its environs, his choice had to be an unorthodox one. She did not yet know how unorthodox. No one would suggest the matriarch was impatient as she punched in the call herself this time. It is logical to seek answers promptly.

The doors closed behind Sarek as he took T’Pau’s call and although Sev would never eavesdrop, and Sarek and T’Pau would never raise their voices to each other, their voices carried…

“What have you…?”

“I have bonded…”

“… shameful media reports are true…”

“…nothing shameful about…”

“…break with tradition…”

“…an example of IDIC…”

“… a Human…”

“…my bondmate…”

“…it is more logical to…”

“I will not sever this bond!”

“Thou shalt not speak in this manner…!”

“I ask forgiveness…”

“The council is within its rights to…”

“If that is their decision, so be it.”

More quietly, the conversation continued out of Sev’s earshot.

“And what if the Human cannot sustain you in your Time, Sa-fu t’nashveh?” T’Pau asked, broaching the subject.

Sarek’s face remained impassive. “That will not be an issue.”

T’Pau’s brows climbed. “Indeed? This knowledge is also somewhat unorthodox.”

Sarek’s jaw twitched, but he did not reply.

T’Pau appraised her son. It was not surprising that his rebellious and stubborn character traits would display themselves here. She was not pleased with the method of his choice, and the fact that she knew nothing of his son’s chosen bondmate, other than she was Human, concerned her greatly. Kaiidth. What is, is. She must report to the council; it would make its choice. Her son had made his.

“Thou art stubborn and rebellious, like thy father, Sarek,” she informed him. “If the council decides to remove you from your post, I cannot forestall them.”

“It will be what it will be, Mother,” Sarek responded, knowing full well from which parent he derived those characteristics.

“Live long and prosper, my son.”

“Peace and long life, Mother.”

No Surprise

Sarek drew a deep, meditative breath before opening his office door. “I have a task for you, Sev,” he informed his aide. “I would like you to draw up an internal announcement.” He paused, and then gravely pronounced, “Dr. Grayson and I have bonded. As a result, I would like to inform the delegation before a more public announcement is made.”

Sev was not surprised, although he sensed that Sarek thought he would be. Even if he had not just unintentionally heard a good deal of the ambassador’s conversation with T’Pau, he was aware of the security team’s official and unofficial reports of Sarek’s and Dr. Grayson’s many curious outings together, and he had heard from T’Vey that the pair had visited Healer T’Alen together earlier that morning. It was not logical to assume, but it was certainly reasonable to hypothesize, given the wealth of data at hand.

“I celebrate the increase to your family,” he said sincerely. Then the aide hesitated a moment before continuing, desperately hoping he wasn’t overstepping his bounds. “S’haile… such an announcement may be… unnecessary.”

“Explain,” Sarek demanded.

“I do not mean to suggest that this news is unworthy of an announcement,” Sev replied quickly, “but rather that it would be superfluous at this time.” At Sarek’s confused stare, he added, “It would be illogical to announce what has already been… logically deduced… S’haile.”

Sarek’s brows knitted together in a frown, and Sev braced himself for the coming reprimand. For his part, though, Sarek wrestled with an array of emotions, some quite unfamiliar: surprise, embarrassment, and the feeling of being caught out by his own staff. Nevertheless, as he recounted his and Amanda’s recent activities, he was forced to admit that it would be difficult not to draw the conclusion that his subordinates apparently had. He suppressed a sigh. This was a novel experience. After a moment he re-focused on Sev.

“I ask forgiveness, S’haile. I have over-stepped,” his aide was saying.

“On the contrary, Sev,” Sarek replied. “I commend you for your… insight. Your logic is sound.” A pause. “Given the circumstances, what would you recommend as an alternative?”

Sev thought for a moment. “I recommend a water gathering, S’haile.”

In ancient times clans would use the ceremony of a water gathering, the sharing of life-giving water, to come together under peaceful auspices. To maintain the peace, these events were strictly no-surprises; then, as now apparently, everyone involved knew exactly what was going on ahead of time. It would thus seem to be an appropriate venue.

Sarek leveled his gaze at his aide under a canted brow, but nodded his approval nonetheless. “Quite logical. Please organize it.” He rose, his time sense telling him he must depart for the press conference for which he was scheduled this afternoon. It was just as well; departure seemed rather appropriate at this moment anyway.

“It will be done, S’haile.”

“Your work is commendable, Sev.”

Press Conference

UFP Secretary Min Hua had insisted on a press conference to announce recent progress on the Centauri Accord. Since Sarek had led the negotiations, he and Min Hua were to lead the press conference. Sarek disliked press events such as this; they were too uncontrollable and typically wasted much time on peripheral issues. Min Hua was a politician, however, and saw this as an opportunity to showcase her contributions to current and potential future constituents.

She issued a brief prepared statement and opened the floor up to questions, looking forward to the usual banter with reporters. She was unpleasantly surprised to be ignored when all of the questions went to Sarek.

“Ambassador, has Vulcan benefitted from your decision to take over the Universal Translator project?”

“Vulcan did not ‘take over’ the Universal Translator. The project was completed in a timely manner and is under Federation control. The purpose of this press conference is to discuss the Centauri Accord.” Sarek’s response was predictably patient and on-topic.

“Does your negotiation of the Centauri Accord indicate an expansion of your responsibilities in the near future?”

“You would have to consult my superiors on this question.”

“How does Dr. Grayson benefit from her relationship with you?”

“This question is irrelevant. I have no further comment.” His voice was calm but firm. Sarek was aware of the double-edged nature of the query. To deny that a relationship existed would be dishonorable, and such a denial could easily be brought into question by previous press coverage. But to simply deny that Amanda received any “benefits” from this relationship both acknowledged its existence and opened it up to unwelcome scrutiny.

“Do your superiors condone your relationship with Dr. Grayson?”

“Also irrelevant. I will now turn the podium over to Secretary Min Hua.” Still calm, still firm.

A question called out before Min Hua could speak, “Ambassador, what do you have to say to allegations that you are sleeping with Amanda Grayson?”

Brows knitted in confusion. “I do not fully understand your phrasing, but I do not believe the question is appro—”

Another shouted interruption. “Do you have a sexual relationship with Amanda Grayson?”

Enough. “You will cease to make inquiries of this nature as they will not be tolerated. This concludes my participation in this press conference. Inquiries regarding the Centauri Accord may be directed to the press office at the Vulcan Embassy.” Sarek’s voice was cool, his demeanor calm as he nodded once to Min Hua and turned on his heel, leaving the podium. Reporters shouted questions to his back that he ignored. Chaos rapidly descended as reporters chattered into vid feeds about the “unprecedented walk-out by Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan.” The secretary, visibly displeased, hastily closed the conference.

Sarek appeared impassive in the face of the reporters’ baiting on the live feed, but to Amanda, kilometers away, his fury was palpable through the bond. She had watched on the screen in Sarek’s quarters with growing dismay as the questions had quickly turned personal and then intrusive. “Oh, Sarek…” she murmured.

Vulcans did not have “bad days.” And in any case, Sarek would not admit to one. Certain of today’s events had been… trying, however. His mother’s displeasure, the council’s potential censure, his staff’s apparent foreknowledge of his change in personal status, and the vile behavior of the Terran press held him engrossed in a light meditative state as they returned in the delegation’s hovercar, until they neared the embassy’s main gate.

The habitual protesters were still there, but they had been joined by a few more. And their placards had changed. The one that had read “Vulcans Off of Earth” now read “Vulcans Off of Earth – and Our Women!” and had been joined by a new one, “Shame on Disloyal Human Whores!”

Even Sarek was taken aback by the crudeness and the hostility of those signs. While he was not concerned for his own safety – he had handled far greater threats – he was troubled by the appearance of potentially unstable protesters threatening Amanda. This must be dealt with promptly.

He swept into the embassy, stopped to update Sev and briefly confer with Soran and Stanek, and then headed directly to his quarters where he knew Amanda waited.

Amanda could sense him coming through their bond. She put her work aside and was there to greet him as he came through the door. He said nothing, just raised his fingers to hers in the oz’hesta and dropped his forehead to hers. //K’diwa.// They stood in silence for a long moment.

Concerned, Amanda probed through their bond. She had felt his concealed fury during the press conference but now only sensed an echo of it, tightly leashed. She also sensed, though he tried to minimize it, renewed disquiet over the anti-Federation protesters, and conflict between him and his family and superiors on Vulcan. Over her? She could not tell. When it rains, it pours, she thought, and she wondered at the strength of Vulcan control.

Sarek sensed her worry, reminded himself to shield better. //I am in no distress, my ko-kugalsu. Surak teaches us to take appropriate, logical steps when faced with difficult situations, and I have done so.//

Amanda wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling herself against him. She would question him later. //Will you allow me to take some additional, logical steps as well, my love?//

Curiosity and anticipation flowed from him to her through the bond. Her words and actions suggested there was a high probability that they would mate...

“It is time for end-meal,” Sarek began, but found he had temporarily lost his appetite, and wondered if Amanda felt the same. I will meditate later, he thought. “Do you require sustenance at this time?” he asked, his voice husky.

She looked up at him through lowered lashes, teeth raking slowly across her lower lip. “If you mean am I hungry for food right now, the answer is no.”

He reached out and brushed the surface of her ear with his thumb. The heat of it, dryness and alien texture set her nerves on edge. With a breathy sigh, Amanda ran her paired fingers from the tip of Sarek’s ear down across his jaw, feeling him shudder as she lightly skimmed his body with hers. He suddenly saw only green flame.

She was starting her fingers down his throat when he caught her wrist and pushed her to the wall with a growl, kissing her urgently as he hastily began to undo her blouse. Swept up with him, she pulled at his garments until they both stood naked, staring at one another with heated hunger. Not willing to wait a moment further, he quickly pulled her down onto the couch in his living area.

Once again, Sarek was surprised by the intensity of his desire for his bondmate, and his sense of wonder at their bond, feelings he would experience for the rest of his life. The day’s events temporarily forgotten, he immersed himself in the sensations of her body and mind. There is simply something about Amanda that causes my blood to burn, he thought before he lost himself completely.

Aligning his palms with hers and shivering with the intense contact, Sarek began slowly moving his fingertips over her body Vulcan-style, sensitive pads tracing every curve. He teasingly kissed and lightly bit each surface mapped by his hands, and Amanda sighed and moaned as he progressed.

She imitated his hands’ motion, curious to see his reaction, and was rewarded to feel his breath catch as she ran her fingertips over his flat nipples and up and down his lean torso.

Sarek’s movements accelerated as they twisted together, and Amanda could feel his arousal intensifying. She ran her fingers firmly from his throat down to his upper thighs, and then grabbed his firm backside.

//Amanda…// he growled in her mind.

//Sarek, yes…//

She pushed her legs apart on the narrow couch, beckoning him. Sarek’s eyes blazed. Dissatisfied with the couch, he pulled her close and rolled, his body cushioning her as they both tumbled to the floor. He slid her down onto him, her ecstatic cries ringing out as they passionately possessed each other.

When later they finally settled in his bed, sweat cooling on their spent bodies, Amanda burrowed into his broad chest and murmured, “‘Love’s pure flame…’”

Sarek bent his head to hers. “K’diwa?”

“‘Desire,’ Samuel Coleridge,” she clarified sleepily. “‘Where true Love burns, Desire is Love’s pure flame; It is the reflex of our earthly frame, That takes its meaning from the nobler part…’” Her voice became quieter and quieter and then trailed off as she fell asleep.

Cradling her, Sarek finished for her, murmuring, “‘…And but translates the language of the heart.’” He meditated with her in his arms for several hours.

ooo

With the crescent moon peeking in the windows of his quarters in the early hours of the morning, Sarek lay awake, thinking. His experience and his instincts now told him that the controversy regarding their relationship was only going to increase when their betrothal became known, whether or not it was formally announced. And with that controversy would inevitably come greater threats from the unstable elements of Terran society of which he had already seen some unsubtle glimpses.

As a Vulcan male and, yes, a Vulcan warrior, however peaceably disciplined, he immediately recognized the potential threats to his mate; his first impulses were to protect her at all costs. However, when he tempered those impulses with reality, he knew he could neither keep her a prisoner within the embassy, nor precipitously remove her to Vulcan. The latter would likely cause an unacceptable diplomatic incident, and both would undoubtedly cause Amanda unhappiness, also unacceptable. Hence, neither represented a logical alternative. He would have to confront this challenge here, on Earth – peacefully, of course.

His ruminations were interrupted as Amanda stirred awake. She slowly sat up and said quietly, stretching, “I’m so tired, but I should probably go home.”

Sarek sat up with her. “The hour is late. You should stay.” Quickly as an afterthought he added, “Please.”

Amanda shook her head, embarrassed. “Everyone at the embassy will know I spent the night.”

“We are bonded,” Sarek responded simply. “There is no shame in this.” Then he added protectively, “My staff is discreet. Anyone who fails in the slightest in this regard will answer to me.” He pulled her to him, leaning over her shoulder to caress her neck. “However, if it is your wish I will take you to your home.”

Amanda turned to face him. “You would like me to make this my home.”

“Yes,” he replied honestly, “I have already stated as much. And I believe the security concerns are greater than I originally anticipated.” At her uncertain look, he continued. “Recent events dictate that if you are unwilling to relocate to the embassy, I must insist on assigning you a permanent security detail when you are not on the premises.”

Amanda’s eyes widened. “Sarek, that’s ridic—”

“Amanda, on this I will accept no compromise.”

Sarek’s voice had a commanding edge to it and she saw in his eyes what his many diplomatic opponents must see on a regular basis. Inwardly she sighed. At a minimum she didn’t want to be a distraction for him with everything else going on. It must have been the press conference. And even if I think this is silly, it’s clearly important to him. I trust he’ll do the same when I’m concerned about something…

To him she said, “All right, you owe me one. I guess we’ll be compromising a lot, won’t we? Can you at least tell me what is of such great concern all of a sudden?”

“Amanda, I… accept the need for compromise between us,” Sarek began, even as he acknowledged to himself how unique this admission was, “however, with regard to your safety, my flexibility is limited. I anticipate, unfortunately, that at least some of the Terran population will react negatively to the news of our bonding, with unpredictable and possibly dangerous results. I desire to remove you from proximity to such threats, but doing so hastily could also risk a greater adverse reaction.”

"Sounds like the prelude to the Trojan War,” Amanda murmured, bemused. “’The face that launched a thousand ships’...who would have thought — although I hardly consider myself any Helen of Troy."

Sarek dismissed the comparison. "The analogy is flawed. The Trojans were
not Vulcans. Had they been, in the initial effort they would have left no lingering opposition to cause the later conflict. Rather... sloppy of them."

Amanda looked at her fiancé in amazement, casually discussing a strategy of extreme bloodshed.

At her incredulous look, Sarek elaborated, "This is why we adhere so to Surak’s teachings. That against which we struggle is instinctive, and the consequences of unleashing it unconscionable." He reached out to gently caress her cheek. "I would protect thee at all costs, yet I must not destroy in doing so."

She shivered a little, understanding the truth of his words, and wondering again at the powerful forces of passion and control that lay hidden beneath her beloved’s placid exterior.

"The analogy is further flawed," Sarek continued.  "In the literature, Helen is portrayed as either an inestimable character or a helpless victim.  You are far from either.  And in my eyes you are far more beautiful," he finished softly.

As she would countless times in the future, Amanda’s breath caught at his quiet words. All she could do was smile tenderly at his gesture and offer him her two fingers. Will he ever cease to surprise me – or make my heart melt?

Growing serious again, Amanda laid a hand on his thigh, thinking of yesterday’s tumult. “What about your family, Sarek? Your conversation with your mother didn’t go well, did it?”

“Her reaction was not unexpected. It will require some time for her and the High Council to reconcile to the idea of our bonding.”

“The High Council? Why are they involved?”

“I serve in this capacity at their bidding. They may choose to rescind my appointment.”

“What? Because of me? Oh Sarek, you can’t let that happen! Maybe we should—”

“Amanda. Never.” Sarek’s voice was suddenly harsh. “You are mine and I am yours. Nothing else is of consequence.”

Amanda’s eyes widened at his intensity. She could read through the bond that he was alarmed by the thought that she might consider anything other than going forward with their marriage. //Sarek, I will never leave you,// she reassured him.

Sarek relaxed, and attempted to reassure her in turn. “It is unlikely that the Council will take precipitous action. No one has achieved Vulcan’s objectives in dealing with Terra as well as I. It would be illogical.”

Amanda regarded him archly. “You really have to stop being so modest.”

“It is fact,” he rejoined, unconcerned for appearances.

“Facts…” Amanda murmured, attention drawn to another issue. “I saw the press conference,” she said, shaking her head. “I am embarrassed for my species.”

“I am aware that a few ill-behaved individuals or organizations do not represent the entire Human race,” Sarek replied.

“They make as if we’re sneaking around, doing something wrong,” she continued, frustrated. “Perhaps the public announcement of our engagement will steal some of their thunder.”

Sarek nodded, working through the idiom. “There is some logic to this,” he agreed. “Prior to such an announcement, I would like to formally confirm our bonding to the rest of the delegation. A water gathering is a traditional event for purposes such as this.”

“You mean to announce our bonding to your staff?” Amanda asked.

“No,” Sarek replied, the tiniest touch of resignation in his voice. “An ‘announcement’ would imply that the fact was not already generally known.” As her eyes widened and her face colored with embarrassment, he continued, “I myself was equally unaware of the… deductions made by my staff. The water gathering is a reasonable accommodation for all concerned.”

“Does everybody know?” Amanda ventured to ask.

“Apparently.”

Well, then. I guess we weren’t as discreet as we thought, or perhaps the embassy staff is just more observant than we thought. Recovering, she giggled. “Well, at least it will be a fun engagement party!”

Sarek frowned. “I would not characterize it as a ‘party’…”

“Shhh, whatever, my love,” she shushed him, fingers over his mouth and pushing him over backwards as his eyebrows rose in surprise. She had some things to show him. “Let’s argue about it later.”

Informing

The list of people Sarek and Amanda wanted to inform of their engagement prior to a public announcement was lengthy, and it took them the better part of a couple of days to get through them all. Amanda’s co-worker Rob pronounced Sarek “The Man,” at the news, and her friend Marcia simply said, “Told you so.”

Her brother John was somewhat more circumspect. “He better take good care of you, Amanda – and make you happy,” he warned.

“John, he does both, more than I could imagine. You needn’t worry for me.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he groused, although his expression softened. “And congratulations. I imagine planning this wedding is going to be a zoo. Let me know how I can help.”

“Thanks, John. That means the world to me.”

For Sarek, informing his brother and father was considerably easier than the discussion with his mother. His father Skon, Vulcan’s previous ambassador to Earth, had developed a tolerance (some of his colleagues disparagingly referred to his attitude as a “fondness”) for Humans that allowed him to accept his elder son’s news with considerably more equanimity than his bondmate had.

“I am certain your choice was a most logical one, my son,” he informed Sarek. “I celebrate the increase to the family.” Even as the elder diplomat was aware of the potential pitfalls — differing life spans and procreation challenges among them — he could appreciate the advantages of this pairing as well. From his perspective, if his son could obtain with this female what he had thus far been denied, a satisfying and lasting marital bond, then her species was of much less concern.

“I am gratified, Father,” Sarek replied sincerely, knowing the attitude of the rest of his clan was not likely to be as accepting.

Silek, Sarek’s younger brother, could not resist taking a (logical) dig at his older, more serious sibling. “I must admit, Brother,” he said, “I would not have expected between the two of us that it would be you choosing such an… unconventional path. Nevertheless, I am gratified by your creativity.” Sarek just frowned at the teasing, but nonetheless accepted his brother’s well wishes.

Later that day Sarek made his way to the new office of his friend, now Justice Stewart.

“Greetings, my friend,” Stewart said warmly when Sarek entered.

“Live long and prosper, Justice Stewart,” Sarek intoned formally.

“Ah, it’s just Arne still, please,” Stewart smiled, gesturing to a chair. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“It has come to my attention that there is an inter-planetary – specifically, an inter-species – marriage in the planning stages that involves a Vulcan constituent. It is our thought that a Federation ceremony would be most appropriate, given the circumstances. I have come to inquire if you would be willing to officiate.”

Stewart gave a broad smile. “That is a duty I would be most happy to conduct, Sarek. Whose wedding will I be performing?”

Sarek merely took in his friend’s astonished expression when he replied, “My own.”

Stewart gaped at the Vulcan for a split second before he recovered, breaking into a wide grin. “Dr. Grayson?” he asked. At Sarek’s nod and without thinking, the judge clapped his friend heartily on the back. “Well, congratulations, man!” he exclaimed before he caught himself. “Oh for heaven’s sake, I’m sorry, Sarek…”

“The cause was sufficient.”

“That’s an understatement. Let’s sit down then. We have a lot to discuss!”

Water Gathering

As it turned out, the water gathering was a pretty good party, all things considered. It got off to a bit of a rocky start when, just before Amanda and Sarek entered, the waiting Vulcan guests overhead Amanda hiss, “You want me to walk where?!” Torn between the impropriety of eavesdropping and curiosity to learn what would happen next, the reception room fell silent.

A minute and some hushed conversation later, Sarek entered, followed a few steps behind by a somewhat discomfited Amanda. He took a glass of water from a waiting tray and proffered it to his bondmate. “A peace offering, my intended,” he murmured. Amanda’s expression softened as she came to his side, and the rest of the Vulcan delegation turned away to give the couple privacy. Then Sarek turned again and handed Soran a glass, as the most senior of the guests, and offered the traditional greeting. The water gathering was underway.

Amanda noticed her translator colleagues huddled off to the side, glancing around as if not quite sure how to act. When she took a moment to inquire of them, Wei Ming asked, “Uh, is there someplace we can get a drink…?”

Amanda held up her water glass. “This is it.” Her colleagues groaned. “Oh, it’s not that bad,” she admonished the small group. “I’m sure you can find a way to have fun. Let’s get you all mingling.”

Each of Sarek’s staff respectfully offered the traditional congratulations, “I celebrate the increase to your family.” With each greeting Amanda learned more about her bondmate.

“The clan of Surak gains a noteworthy member,” Soran informed her with a respectful bow of his head.

“‘Noteworthy?’” Amanda repeated, curious. Did he say clan of Surak? T’Alen had said the same thing…

Soran nodded solemnly. “You are an unusual and accomplished Human. From what I have observed, you and Osu Sarek complement each other well. And,” he paused momentarily, “his katra has not been touched by anyone until now. We are fortunate to have you.”

Her head spinning a little bit at his surprising praise, Amanda murmured, “I am honored.”

Sev continued her enlightenment. “There were many proposed bondmates for Osu Sarek. Although his house urged him, and there were many who would have been honored, he chose none who were suggested. You undoubtedly possess unique characteristics to have bonded with the heir to the House of Surak.”

Amanda’s cheeks colored with embarrassment, unsure of an appropriate response. “Thank you, Sev,” she replied quietly and resolved to ask Sarek more about his family later.

Then T’Lina, Stell and Sporn appeared. Acknowledging the trio, Amanda again felt chagrin. “I, well, wanted to thank you, and say I’m sorry, for all the extra duty you’ve had because of Sarek’s and my… outings. I know you’ve been out late, and in the cold and rain and—”

“It is of no consequence, T’Sai,” T’Lina interjected calmly.

“We come to serve,” intoned Stell.

“The cause was sufficient. The experience has been informative,” Sporn added, and Amanda’s face burned hotter.

“Your service honors us,” she managed to get out, and she could swear the three were amused.

A few minutes later she regretted the suggestion that her colleagues ‘have fun’ when she heard the sound of water glasses being tapped insistently. Vulcan eyes looked up curiously while Amanda narrowed hers at her mischievously grinning associates. Someday I’m going to kill Rob and Jennreth’nu. Honestly!

“My intended?” Sarek asked quietly.

Amanda sighed and looked up at him. “An old Earth custom, designed to embarrass the couple. We’re supposed to kiss when the glasses chime. My colleagues are incorrigible.”

A glint of amusement appeared in Sarek’s eyes. “We shall have to indulge them,” he said, holding out two fingers for her to join. Amanda bit back laughter as she saw Rob and his partners in crime first frowning in confusion at the gesture and then gaping as Sarek turned toward them, one brow raised in challenge, as the meaning of the oz’hesta became clear to them.

The gathering, with true Vulcan efficiency, wrapped up fairly quickly. Appropriate messages conveyed, there was no logical reason to hang around further. The translator crew, Human and otherwise, characteristically decided to hit the local pub.

Afterward, Sarek asked her what she thought of the gathering.

“Well,” Amanda replied, ticking off with her fingers, “I learned a great deal: First, the members of your delegation are really quite fond of you; second, there are some interesting social customs I’m going to have to get used to, it seems; and third, your family is a big deal back on Vulcan and you are considered quite a ‘catch.’”

He stared down at her, brows knitted. “I do not understand the logic of these statements. Although I regret if what you have learned about my clan causes you distress. I did not think it was relevant.”

Amanda just shook her head and smiled back up at him. “No, you’re absolutely right. It doesn’t matter. I love you anyway.”

Chapter 11: August, 2229

An Interview

Three weeks later, a lot had gone on. At this moment Sarek again found himself in a most improbable situation, this time seated across from an overly cheerful reporter from the Terran Times-Journal on a live vid feed. As a matter of course, Sarek did not give personal interviews; he never had. They were illogical; they did not focus on relevant diplomatic issues and, by definition, invited requests for personal information that were considered most impolite by Vulcan standards. He had never understood the Human fascination for such “news.”

Nevertheless, here he was, as a concession to events that had overtaken Amanda and him since their engagement was announced. The embassy’s new consultant for Terran public relations, Gerard Stein, had urged him to do this interview as a way to “be more accessible to the people of Earth.” Sarek was not certain that such an interview would accomplish this goal, but he had acquiesced.

The reporter, “Candy” Jones (why would someone wish to be named after an unhealthy food?), was announcing the “special opportunity to speak with Ambassador Sarek of Vulcan about his unexpected engagement.” She turned to him and bubbled, “Ambassador Sarek, we’re so glad to have you here this morning! Thank you for coming!”

Sarek nodded, thinking, I am merely here because circumstances require it. Diplomatically he kept that to himself.

Candy Jones continued, “First of all, congratulations! How does it feel?”

“I do not understand.”

The reporter looked nonplussed for a moment but forged ahead. “How does it feel to be engaged? Are you happy? Excited? Nervous?”

“I would not characterize my mental state in those Human terms.”

“I see… All right, well, how did you and Amanda Grayson meet?”

“We met at a meeting concerning the Universal Translator.”

“Was it love at first sight?” Candy Jones asked, leaning forward, her smile broadening.

“That would not have been logical.”

The reporter straightened back up. Persevering, she posed her next question.

“Was there any one special thing you noticed about your wife-to-be?”

“She is a unique Human.”

“Well, how did you decide that she was the one you wanted to marry? After all, she’s Human, you’re Vulcan.”

“It was logical.”

Someone throw me a bone here, she thought. “Care to elaborate on that?”

“No, I do not.”

Let’s try a different tack. “Isn’t there a rather large age difference between the two of you?”

“‘Large’ is a relative term. In our case there are no other comparative examples.”

“How old are you?”

“Sixty-four point four five seven Terran years.”

“Really? And how old is Amanda?”

“Dr. Grayson is twenty-two point seven five one years old.”

“So that’s a difference of…”

“Forty-one point seven zero six years.”

“You don’t think that’s a lot?”

“No.”

“Er — So how did you pop the question?”

“‘Pop the’…? Ah, yes. The details of that are private.”

Candy glanced at the wall chrono – how much more of this? “And how did

Amanda react?”

“She agreed to marry me.”

*Sigh.* “What about your family? Are they excited for you?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

Okay I give up, the reporter thought, exasperated. “Have you set a wedding date yet?”

“Not at this time. It will be announced.”

“Well, I’m sure we all can’t wait for that. Thank you, Ambassador. And that concludes our interview!” Jones smiled tightly at the holo-cam and at her impassive interviewee, and then quickly excused herself, on her way to have words with her producer.

When Sarek returned to where Stein and T’Vey were standing in the studio, he found the consultant with a hand on his head as he spoke to T’Vey.

“Did that accomplish your objectives?” Sarek asked, knowing the answer.

Stein shook his head ruefully. “You win some, you lose some, y’know?”

“Yes…?”

“I mean,” Stein continued, “we’ll find you some better interview spots. I’m told you can be charming. Better luck next time.”

T’Vey raised a brow but made no comment.

Headlines and Protesters

Two weeks beforehand, the event that precipitated Sarek’s participation in the Times interview and Stein’s presence at the embassy had been a simple press release.

VULCAN AMBASSADOR ANNOUNCES ENGAGEMENT

Vulcan Embassy

San Francisco, Earth

Contact: T’glf S’ayn T’Vey [contact information appended]

San Francisco, Stardate 2229.59: Ambassador S’chn T’gai Sarek of Vulcan, and Dr. Amanda Grayson of Earth, today announced their engagement to be married.

Ambassador Sarek, originally from Shi’Kahr, Shi’al Province, Vulcan, has served as Vulcan’s ambassador to Earth for the past 22.43 years. He holds advanced degrees in Astrophysics and Computer Science from the Vulcan Science Academy.

Dr. Grayson, originally from Minnesota, Earth, was most recently the Linguistics Chief Investigator for the Federation Universal Translator project, and prior to this was a member of the Linguistics faculty at Harvard University. She holds a doctorate in Linguistics from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and a Masters in Comparative History from Harvard.

A wedding date will be announced. The couple plans to reside in San Francisco.

When she issued the compact announcement, T’Vey had not expected it would achieve much notice. It was curiously structured, but the format and content were considered traditional, according to Dr. Grayson. Although such events were announced publicly here, they appeared to be formalities rather than news events.

She could not have been more wrong.

Minutes after she released the announcement, her comm was flooded with voice and text requests for additional information, interviews, and holo opportunities. Less than an hour later, there was a throng of reporters outside the embassy gates hoping to speak to Sarek or Amanda, preferably both.

The release had hit the news feeds immediately, accompanied by holos and previous coverage of the pair, plus frenzied news analysis about the “unprecedented” nature of the announcement and speculation about what it meant. Editorial and public comment input surged, creating a public relations firestorm. The headlines and editorial titles spoke volumes about the discussion: the announcement generated widespread astonishment and curiosity, a small amount of approval, and a disturbing portion of vocal, persistent disapproval.

Only a few hours into the media storm, T’Vey compiled yet another summary data feed of the response to Kevet-Dutar Sarek’s bonding.

Communications Report, Stardate 2229.60

Focus: Announcement of Kevet-Dutar’s Bonding

Report #4

Media Sampling

1) Representative Press Features (video and text; full bodies appended):

“Vulcan Ambassador and Human Professor in a First Interspecies Marriage”

“Surprise Announcement: Human to Wed Vulcan Ambassador”

“Unexpected Output of Universal Translator”

“Ambassador Sarek, Dr. Amanda Grayson to Wed”

“Boundary Crossed in Inter-Species Engagement?”

“Political Rationale for Vulcan-Human Union?”

“Diplomatic Coup or Quagmire for Vulcan Ambassador?”

“Implications for Vulcan-Earth Relations”

[Representative sample from approximately 4,236 items in Terran and allied vids and publications on Stardate 2229.59]

Trending: Negatively construed coverage up to 28% from 22% since last report, based on analysis of accepted language connotations in Federation Standard

2) Editorials (video and text; full bodies appended)

“There is Right and There is Wrong”

“Where We Don’t Need Vulcan”

“Diversity – and Free Choice – Are Good”

“New Ground That Doesn’t Need to be Broken”

“Human Men for Human Women!”

“Machiavellian Maneuvering Behind Engagement?”

“Taking Diversity Too Far”

“Nothing Off-Limits From Vulcan Domination”

“Has Sarek Finally Over-stepped?”

“She’s a Traitor in Our Midst”

“Human Values at Risk”

[Representative sample from 18,659 comment pieces posted on Stardate 2229.59]

Trending: Negatively construed coverage up to 88% from 62% since last report, based on analysis of accepted language connotations in Federation Standard

T’Vey briefed Sarek as she did on every other media topic of significance. While he was unconcerned, as usual, for the negative publicity focused on him, he was less sanguine about the critical coverage directed at Amanda. There were potential implications for her safety that he did not like.

Amanda, on the other hand, was appalled at the conflagration surrounding their engagement; first, that it was much of an issue at all, and second, that the level of vitriol directed at them was so intense. She remembered her words to Soran months ago about the underlying motivations of the press to stimulate viewership and realized their situation, and the controversy it generated, was a perfect vehicle for doing so. They were probably going to have to deal with this for a while.

Then the protesters arrived. Amanda had just resigned herself to the tsunami of negative media sentiment with the rationale that the most vocally expressed opinions were often the least representative, when Stanek comm’d her.

“Dr. Grayson,” he began in a somber tone. “I have alerted Osu Sarek, and I believe you should see this as well.” Curious and concerned, Amanda immediately headed to his office.

She was not prepared for what she saw. There on the security cams that monitored the embassy’s exterior were hundreds of protesters, if not more, on all sides of the embassy. Many carried placards, some blinking electronic ones, others hand-scrawled, voicing many of the sentiments from the editorials.

“Miscegenation. I don’t think that word has been used in public for centuries,” Amanda murmured, putting on her academic’s hat for a moment. While some of this was indeed interesting from a linguistic and sociological point of view, though, she still couldn’t suppress a shudder as she looked out on the angry crowd. Whatever happened to tolerance, individual choice?

At that moment Sarek entered the room. Amanda turned to him, distress written on her face, before she composed herself for Sarek’s and Stanek’s benefit. “I am ashamed for my people,” she said, shaking her head ruefully.

Sarek crossed to her side. “Amanda, just because Vulcans do not protest in the streets to express their displeasure does not mean that some of these very same discussions are not going on right now on my planet.”

That’s a sobering thought, she considered, even as she knew he was intending to reassure her about her own people. It occurred to Amanda that Sarek must have seen a lot of ugliness on many different worlds in his years as a diplomat; she admired his calm in the face of it, even when it became personal. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

Just then noise outside drew their attention. A small group of supporters, judging by their placards, had pushed their way to the front of the crowd by the gates and was loudly challenging the much larger opposing group. The conflict was escalating, and it was obvious it could boil out of control at any moment.

Sarek addressed his security chief dispassionately. “Stanek, summon both City and Federation security at once. Inserting our own personnel will only have counterproductive effects. Take action only if lives are threatened. Implement appropriate security protocols.”

“Immediately, S’haile.” Stanek departed to carry out his tasks.

Amanda looked down at the fulminating crowd in dismay. There’s going to be a riot. Who knows how many people will get hurt? The enormity of what they were facing struck her anew. Amanda turned to Sarek. “I just want to marry you and get away from here for a while,” she said quietly, closing her eyes.

Sarek took a step toward her, uncertain of what to do. She is expressing an emotional, rather than a practical desire, and she is attempting to maintain her control. He was honored by that, knowing that were she in a private setting her reaction would most likely be far more emotional. Distress radiated from her through their bond, a swirl of fear, guilt and frustration.

He made a decision. Though they were in a public area, they were for the moment alone. He believed he knew what she needed. Closing the remaining distance between them, he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on the top of her head. After a moment, her distress subsided somewhat, replaced by greater calm and a wave of affection for him.

“I love you,” she murmured, resting her head against his chest.

Gimme Shelter

A few days later Amanda had just finished a meeting at Federation Headquarters concerning her next paper when she was spotted by a reporter in the hallway. Amanda knew the journalist; she covered Federation issues and had written about the Universal Translator.

“Dr. Grayson,” the woman called quietly to get her attention. “Rhonda Moore, Federation Today. Can I ask you a few questions?”

Amanda hesitated a moment but then relented; she had always been fairly comfortable with the media, and hiding out wasn’t going to improve the coverage she and Sarek were getting.

Moore’s questions turned out to be innocuous enough, focusing on the Federation-related aspects of her engagement and on the future of the Universal Translator.

Unfortunately, the open hallway proved to be the wrong place to hold an interview. Two men walking by heard Amanda speaking and one exclaimed, “Hey, that’s Amanda Grayson! Looks like she’s giving a statement.” They hurried over, the second man pulling out a holocam.

Before she knew it, a dozen reporters surrounded Amanda, and they were all asking questions at once. Where did they all come from? “All right, one at a time, folks,” she admonished. “This isn’t a prepared press conference, so please give me a moment to answer each of you.” This only seemed to encourage some to shout their questions louder, as if to drown out their competition. She realized ruefully that the idea of answering just a few inquiries turned out to be quite naïve.

And then the interrogation began veering out of the zone Amanda found acceptable. Whereas the first queries she fielded consisted mostly of easily verifiable public information, this new set was clearly more personal, and in some cases, intrusive.

“Twenty-three people were arrested this week in the altercation in front of the Vulcan Embassy. Do you feel responsible?”

“Can you have children together?”

“Rumor has it the ambassador divorced his Vulcan wife to marry you. Is this true?”

“Have you dated other alien men? Are you attracted at all to Human men?”

“What’s Vulcan sex like?”

Amanda had been attempting to patiently answer each question, even if only to say “No comment,” but these were getting to be too much. Resolving not to lose her temper, she finally put up a hand to stop them. “I’m afraid that’s all, ladies and gentlemen. I have another appointment,” she announced and attempted to leave. The two Vulcan guards who were discretely accompanying her moved in closer.

Several reporters simply chose to follow, still pressing her with questions. Jerks, Amanda thought darkly. Deciding that her original plan to take a hover-bus back to the embassy would not end well with reporters dogging her, she quickly hailed a taxi and the trio escaped. To her utter amazement, they still followed.

Once back at the embassy she dodged in the front entrance and was past security before the trailing reporters could harass her further. That was not the end of the day’s troubles, however.

When she returned to her desk she had messages from two of the smaller language institutes she had been talking to about a position. When she spoke to her contacts, they each informed her that their respective institutions did not possess adequate security and crowd control that they felt would be needed should she accept an appointment there. Hence, they were withdrawing their offers.

Amanda was surprised, but she could understand their position. The next call she received was far more disturbing. The Dean of Research at Instituto Brasiliero called to inform her that his institution, too, was withdrawing their offer. “Some of our trustees are concerned by the recent publicity surrounding your, uh, personal situation, and they feel that it’s not in keeping with the image of the Institute.”

“‘Not in keeping with the image of the Institute’ – what’s that supposed to mean?” Amanda asked indignantly.

“There’s concern from some of our donors, that’s all.”

“You mean some of your donors don’t like my engagement, so you’re knuckling under to them?”

“I’m not suggesting anything, Amanda, so please don’t shoot the messenger –”

“Of course not, Ricardo. Thanks anyway.”

Shutting off the comm unit, Amanda rested her head in her hands. Things just seem out of control. What can go wrong next? She had a pounding headache. As she thought about going home to a warm bath, an idea of what could go wrong next occurred to her. Stubbornly remaining in her apartment no longer made any sense. At a minimum she was setting herself up for more harassment there; if her home address wasn’t already common knowledge, it soon would be.

Resolved to take action on something she could control, she set out for Stanek’s office. The security chief was surprised but more than willing to implement her “unexpected but logical,” as he put it, request.

ooo

Several hours later that evening, Sarek located his tired and somewhat dirty bondmate just outside an empty suite in the residence wing of the embassy, energetically sorting through and unloading several suitcases and boxes of books. “Amanda,” he greeted her.

She brushed a stray tendril of hair off of her face. “Hi.”

“Stanek informs me that you have elected to accept the embassy’s offer of residency.”

Amanda smiled wryly. “Yes, I decided to move in.”

Sarek gave a circumspect glance toward the suite that was not his own, then decided against comment. He was at least pleased that she was under the same roof as he. Instead he said, “While I am gratified that you have made this choice, I am curious as to why now.”

“I decided it was wise, given recent events.”

Sarek nodded in agreement. “And you are not concerned about adverse publicity from this?”

Her laughter had a dark edge to it. “It could hardly be worse than it has been, don’t you think?”

“Your point is a logical one.”

A dark expression suddenly crossed Amanda’s face, causing her blue eyes to flash. She slapped the stack of books she was carrying down onto the desk, whirling to face Sarek. “You know, it’s just not right!”

He was startled, but did not show it. “What is not right, Amanda?”

“We— Humanity, that is — struggled for centuries — centuries! — to eradicate hate and prejudice as justifiable reasons for doing horrible things to one another, and only recently seem to have achieved it, when this happens! One Human and one Vulcan simply want to declare themselves to each other and all of a sudden it brings these, these… people out of the woodwork who seem like they’ve been stockpiling hate and prejudice since the Eugenics Wars!”

She is emotional. Calm, rational explanation is best. “Reactions such as those we have been observing are typically borne out of fear,” Sarek offered.

Unfortunately, this only seemed to incense Amanda further. “Fear?? Fear of what? What, are these people afraid they’ll be forced to marry Vulcans as well? The notion is idiotic. What happened to tolerance? And since when is fear a legitimate reason to decide you can just go hate another group of beings? It’s not, and it sets Humanity back centuries.” She shook her head. “I get so angry at this intolerance I could just throw things!”

“Please do not.” Sarek was reasonably sure that her questions were rhetorical ones, as she was not waiting for him to answer them, but he was less certain as to how figurative or literal her last statement was meant to be. Her turbulent emotions are indeed unpredictable.

A mix of sympathy and amusement appeared on Amanda’s face. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m alarming you with all this anger, aren’t I?”

“I am not alarmed,” Sarek countered, his voice still calm. “I am attempting to enjoin you from doing further violence to your possessions. And I must point out that anger is illogical.”

“No, anger is emotional, but it can serve a very logical purpose – for Humans, anyway. Anger, a sense of injustice, can catalyze us to take action against things that just aren’t right. If we didn’t have anger to mobilize us when needed, we’d still be sitting in the mud throwing stones at one another!”

“That is… not one of your more scholarly assertions, my intended,” Sarek cautiously responded.

Amanda giggled, and he could not entirely prevent his confusion from showing as he detected her emotions rapidly shifting from anger and frustration to amusement and affection. “Oh, my love,” she began with a suddenly tender smile, “am I causing you to regret bonding with a Human? A thoroughly emotional, illogical, unpredictable Human?”

Sarek relaxed his body, realizing he had become somewhat tense under the barrage of Amanda’s emotions. Allowing that hint of a smile he permitted himself in her presence, he replied, “It is a constant learning opportunity. And a challenge which I am most capable of handling.” He extended his paired fingers.

Meeting his with hers, Amanda looked up at him teasingly. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

“Perhaps both,” he said, lifting a brow. He continued, his voice soft but with a commanding undertone, “At this point, my intended, I must see to it that your quarters are properly arranged to enable you to obtain sufficient rest.” He picked up a heavy box. “Where shall I deposit the contents of this?”

He helped her until she finally shooed him away so that she could take a shower in her new abode.

Later, as he prepared for the evening’s meditation, Sarek reflected on the captivating creature he had taken as his bondmate. Was it possible to be more fascinated with her now that she was his bondmate than he was before? Apparently it was, even if the logic of this was not obvious.

Sarek found himself anticipating when he would next see Amanda, automatically calculating the hours, minutes and seconds. He also found himself preoccupied, in and out of her presence, with everything about her: her thoughts and emotions, her appearance, her scent, her voice, her mannerisms, those inexplicable things she did.  It was fortunate that he was capable of managing multiple thought processes at once.

Tonight he had witnessed what he believed she would call “letting off steam.” An utterly alien coping method, it was like a da-eshu'a, a tornado, appearing suddenly and violently in one moment, and completely gone the next.

Experiencing episodes such as this tested his control, but also enabled him to better understand his bondmate’s inner workings, and by extension, those of her kind as well.

There would be those who would assert that having a Human bondmate weakened Sarek's control.  They could not know how much the opposite was true, how great his control needed to be to manage not only his Human bondmate's emotions, but to manage his own distractions and inclinations as well. And they also would never comprehend the benefits of doing so.

ooo

It was midnight, and Sarek had just concluded his meditation when his door chimed. It opened to reveal Amanda, clad in a robe. Although apparently fresh from a shower, her eyes looked tired, still preoccupied with the events of recent days.

“May I come in?” she asked.

“Of course.” He stood back, allowing her to enter.

Once inside, she turned to him wordlessly, and slid her arms around his waist, resting her head against him. His arms came up and held her while he waited for her to speak. After a moment, she pulled back to look at him, a worried expression on her face. “Sarek,” she began, taking a breath, “This isn’t becoming a Romeo and Juliet situation, is it?”

Sarek understood her reference to their discussion six months ago and recalled his analysis then. He responded without hesitation. “No.”

She gave him a relieved smile. “I’m glad to hear you say that, although I must admit I don’t follow your logic from our last conversation about this to now.”

Sarek looked down at her, one corner of his mouth tugging upward slightly. “I… may not have given your logic sufficient credit at the time, K’diwa,” he murmured. “It is most definitely not logical to allow the potential illogical behavior of others to inhibit actions which are logical for us.”

“Good. That means what I want to do right now is logical.” She bit her lip, looking up at him. “Let’s counterbalance the hate out there. I want to make love.”

Sarek tilted his head, not familiar with her wording. “You wish to… mate?”

Amanda nodded. “For us, I believe ‘to mate,’ katelau, does mean ‘to make love,’ fereik-tor ashaya. I am the linguist, after all,” she said softly.

He reflected that only a short time ago he would have vigorously denied that a basic physical act, even this intimate one, could be described in such emotional terms. Now, however, he had to acknowledge that, in their private realm at least, she was absolutely correct.

He raised his paired fingers to hers.

ooo

The next morning Amanda’s brother John called. “You’re a welcome surprise!” she greeted him. “Many of the other calls I’ve been getting are not nearly as pleasant.”

“About that, Mandy, I may be able to help. I’ve been getting calls from the media here on Rigel V, so I imagine it’s gotten pretty intense for you.”

“Oh, John, you don’t know the half of it,” Amanda replied, completely forgetting to correct his annoying use of her childhood nickname. “I’m pretty good with the media, but this is a whole different experience.”

“You need a professional whose sole job is to manage the media, and has been in the trenches on Earth. Remember that alleged smuggling scandal that I had to deal with a few years ago? Gerard Stein got me through that. The company actually came out of it with a better public image than what we went in with at the beginning. He’s who you need, and he’s on Earth right now. I’ve asked him to call you.”

“Thanks, John. I’ll be interested to hear what he has to say.”

“Of course; you’re my little sister. So, how is everything else?”

“Never a dull moment, it seems. I just moved into new digs. Sarek wanted me to move into the embassy for security’s sake and I finally decided it was a good idea.”

John straightened at the other end of the connection and Amanda was certain her over-protective brother was going to lecture her on moving in with Sarek. Much to her surprise, he nodded appreciatively. “He’s absolutely right. I’m glad to hear he’s got his head on straight when it comes to security. And I’m even more glad you’re listening to reason!”

“I can’t believe my brother and my future husband finally see eye-to-eye – and the subject is how to keep me supervised and out of trouble! You two are a couple of cavemen,” she teased as she leaned in to cut the connection.

“Love you too, Mandy…”

ooo

Both Sarek and T’Vey had agreed that the assistance of someone having familiarity with the rough-and-tumble Terran media was logical. And Gerard Stein turned out to be that someone. Loud, sarcastic, with a penchant for flamboyant clothing, and not afraid to speak his mind, he seemed wildly out of place in the Vulcan Embassy – but he knew his stuff.

“Look,” he said in his first meeting with them. “The Earth media is a different animal than you’ll find in almost any other place in the galaxy. There’s a portion of the media here that eat, drink, and breathe scandal, and they won’t leave you alone until something better comes along. If they can’t get the story from you, they’ll find someone else to tell it to them, or they’ll just make it up.”

“The situation is very different on Vulcan,” T’Vey acknowledged.

“Yeah? Never been there – not enough after-hours clubs. But I bet I can imagine,” he replied. Amanda bit the inside of her cheek, knowing her companions were perplexed.

“Anyway,” Stein continued, on a roll now, “I’ve seen just about everything, and I can tell you that there is pretty much only one strategy that will work with the press here when you’re in this kind of shit-storm situation. Trying to hunker down and wait it out doesn’t work – you get destroyed, come out smelling like crap. No, the only way to deal with it is,” he paused to look at the two Vulcans, “and you’re probably not gonna like it, is what I call a ‘constructive engagement strategy.’ Or, put more descriptively, we get in their face, take our fight to the media, and put stuff out there, instead of waiting to react to whatever nonsense comes up.”

There was a brief silence as Sarek and T’Vey sorted through the mass of curious idioms. Then it was Stein’s turn to be surprised when Sarek spoke. Stein’s approach resonated with his warrior roots. “Tactically, the concept has merit. Quite logical.”

Stein stretched back in his seat, hands behind his head, sticking his purple cowboy boots out in front of him. He nodded at Sarek appreciatively. “All right, man. Let’s do this!”

Chapter 12: September, 2229

Better Tactics

Following the less-than-stellar Candy Jones interview, Stein adjusted masterfully. In addition to being a talented operative, he was a skilled political observer. Correctly discerning the ties between the tensions underlying the Centauri Accord controversy and the hostility toward Sarek and Amanda’s engagement, he recommended they make the case for both with the public. “It’s all about why integration is good,” he kept repeating.

Amanda’s sincerity and warmth made her an immediate success in the interviews Stein arranged for her. She went from one interview to another, from scholarly journals where she talked as much about her work as a linguist as she did of her engagement, to more popular fare, where she offered hints of what her wedding gown would look like and earnestly conveyed her love for her fiancé, all while skillfully avoiding the disclosure of truly private details.

When it was her turn to sit across from Candy Jones, Amanda shined. T’Vey had watched the interview when it occurred and now studied a transcript in detail, teasing out the direct and indirect messages conveyed by Amanda. The dynamics of communication on Terra were so different than on Vulcan; it was quite intriguing.

CJ: “Ladies and Gentlemen, this morning we have as our guest Dr. Amanda Grayson, who is going to tell us all about what it’s like to be marrying the Vulcan Ambassador.”

AG: “Please, Candy, call me Amanda. As long as you don’t ask me to ‘kiss and tell,’ I’ll tell you everything I can.”

CJ: “Do Vulcans kiss?”

AG: “That would be kissing and telling! [Laughter] What else would you like to know?”

CJ: “Have you always been interested in aliens, that is, non-Humans? Were you looking to establish a relationship with a non-Human?”

AG: “If you mean, was I looking to marry a non-Human, it’s not something that crossed my mind. I have friends and colleagues from many other Federation planets, and my field of study concerns the languages of different species, Humans included. But I think Sarek and I found each other the way a lot of people find their spouses. We got to know each other, realized we had a lot of common interests, became friends. And from there, you know, it’s just a certain spark that happens.”

CJ: “How does the ambassador feel?”

AG: “It wouldn’t be right for me to try to put words in his mouth, Candy. But I love him very much, and I know he’s heard me tell him so.” [Points to ears; laughter from CJ]

CJ: “Do Vulcans even have feelings, emotions? How can you be close to someone who doesn’t feel like we do?”

AG: “That’s a great question, Candy, because it’s a source of understandable confusion for a lot of people. Vulcans do experience emotion – as a linguist I can tell you that every sentient species we’ve encountered uses emotion in some form as a tool for survival. Vulcans choose to control the expression of those emotions, however. It’s a vital part of their culture and history, just as expressing our emotions is such a vital part of Human culture.”

CJ: “There are those who say you’ve been indoctrinated…”

AG: [Laughs out loud] “Me? Brainwashed? Hah! I’m hardly the unexpressive type, as you can see. And I love my Humanity. It’s too much fun to give it up.” [Winks at holocam]

CJ: “Why do you think Ambassador Sarek wants you to be his wife?”

AG: “That’s a great question to ask any husband and wife – there’ll be as many answers as there are couples! As for my fiancé, I know he has his reasons. It’s not for my cooking, though, I can tell you that.”

CJ: [Double-take] What? Oh, you’re funny… Well, is there anything else you’d like to tell us, Amanda?”

AG: “Just that I think everyone deserves to find happiness. Don’t you think so, Candy?”

CJ: “I couldn’t agree more. Thanks for coming today, Amanda.”

T’Vey concluded that the interview had been a success by the way Stein had rocked back on his heels in the studio and pronounced, “Sweet and stellar!” in a satisfied tone to no one in particular. And indeed, the commentary following the interview was 88% positive, 10% neutral and only 2% negative, validating Stein’s opinion. Further study was merited.

With some better-targeted venues, Sarek also quite effectively utilized the interview forum, where he could indeed be quite charming. He had to acknowledge that there was some merit to positively engaging the Terran press. In a piece on the Centauri Accord for the Federation Times, the ambassador spoke eloquently of the needs the accord addressed and the opportunities it afforded.

“There is much need, and much opportunity, for Human ingenuity and enterprise throughout the Federation. Each of the worlds of the Federation possess relative strengths, and we strengthen each other by sharing them. The people of Earth possess a creativity and drive I have seen no where else in the galaxy, and I am certain they and their trading partners will only benefit from stronger ties.”

When the reporter posed a personal question, he was equally well armed.

“How do you feel about your upcoming nuptials?”

“Vulcans and Humans both value family and marriage. However, on my world, announcements of betrothals and weddings are not made outside of the family. I have done so on Earth in deference to the planet to which I am an envoy and out of respect for the customs of my fiancée’s people. I hope you can appreciate that to go beyond this would constitute a breach of my own cultural boundaries.”

Sarek’s answer having successfully diverted the reporter to better topics, Stein nodded at T’Vey and commented, “And it even has the benefit of being the truth!”

“Please explain your meaning,” she asked, confounded.

The Human laughed and obliged.

ooo

The next three weeks passed quickly. It seemed as though one or the other of them was constantly in front of a holocam. It was time-consuming but appeared to be gradually paying off as the statistics in T’Vey’s media analysis reports slowly but steadily improved. As unproductive as this activity had initially appeared, Sarek understood it was important for the ratification of the Centauri Accord and for the safety and emotional wellbeing of his bondmate. It was logical.

There was an unexpected benefit to the effort as well. T’Pau contacted Sarek to inform him that the High Council had elected to withhold judgment, for the time being, on his appointment. It seemed the council members were curious about the events unfolding on Earth and wished to learn their outcome.

Challenge

On a separate front in the media war, events played out largely outside of the public view. Vid commentator Wayne Floran, owning the dubious distinction of coining the “Vulcan Menace” label, attempted to further stir up his followers by bellicosely announcing, “We are mounting a legal challenge to this so-called engagement, in order to protect the women of Earth!”

Amanda snorted in dismissive indignation at the statement, and Stein recommended not giving “such a blowhard” any credence by engaging with him.

Sarek agreed with the tactical, if emotional, assessments. Familiar with Earth’s judicial system by virtue of his position, he knew that such a legal action had virtually no chance of succeeding. It was not logical to respond to a groundless provocation. Nonetheless he found himself hard-pressed to ignore an explicit challenge. In the back of his mind he searched for a logical way to deal with this one. His opportunity presented itself when he was scheduled for an interview at a studio co-located with the one where Floran recorded his commentaries.

Floran erred grievously by showing up unannounced during Sarek’s session. Chatting with one of the studio hands, he did not notice when the interview concluded, and looked up, startled, to find the Vulcan staring down at him.

The commentator covered his surprise quickly. “Well, look who’s here. I thought I’d only see you in court,” he smirked.

“Unlikely, Mr. Floran,” Sarek responded. “I am quite familiar with the Terran legal system and can tell you that the probability of achieving standing for your claim is less than one point eight percent.” He paused. “However, should you insist on pursuing a challenge I could accommodate your doing so under Vulcan jurisdiction.”

At Floran’s confounded look, Sarek’s voice dropped into a deeper register. “Among my people, a challenge in the context of a marriage is handled in a specific, traditional manner, directly between the rival parties. If it is indeed your intent to challenge, I would be gratified to acquaint you with the particulars.”

The commentator noticed the darkness in Sarek’s voice and was taken aback. Vulcans are pacifists, right? “Heh, yeah well, we’ll see,” he responded noncommittally, suddenly unsure of what he might be getting himself into. He sought to make his exit. “See you around,” he said and stuck out his right hand.

Whether the Human’s gesture was made out of ignorance or a deliberate attempt to be offensive, Sarek did not know. It did not matter. He reached out and firmly gripped the Human’s hand, not exerting enough pressure to cause injury but nevertheless leaving a clear impression of the strength —and unbendable determination— held in reserve.

Floran’s eyes widened noticeably as he nearly tripped over himself trying to back away from the unexpectedly formidable alien. Perhaps he could not provoke the ambassador with impunity after all.

Impassive as ever, Sarek silently watched the man leave.

The next week, Floran changed the subject of his commentary.

Appointment

In the midst of their frenetic schedules they did manage to find time to plan a wedding. Most of it had been turned over to Gerard, to his unconcealed satisfaction. The vows, however, Amanda wanted to discuss with Sarek. This was not his world; she wanted to be sure he was comfortable with the words he was going to be expected to say.

Taking a break from research for her paper and preparation for more interviews, she spent some time researching this much more personal and meaningful topic. Presenting her compilation to Sarek later, Amanda told him, “The words are mostly traditional, edited for brevity and,” her lips quirked, “excess emotionalism. You can change anything you’d rather not say.”

He looked over what she had given him, the words a mixture of the ancient and the modern, and returned his gaze solemnly to her. “I cannot see a thing that I would change.”

Amanda understood his double meaning. “I am honored,” she whispered.

"It is I who am honored," he said softly, holding her gaze.

She could have spent the rest of the afternoon gazing back at him, she thought, but then she started, realizing the time. "Oh no — I'm late! The dress appointment starts in fifteen minutes. I'm sorry, Sarek, I have to go."

“My intended, I regret that our lunch time is to be curtailed, but I believe I understand the purpose. I also regret that I cannot accompany you; I have meetings for the rest of the afternoon.”

Amanda smiled. “I know, Sarek. I’ll miss you. And you’re not supposed to see me in my wedding dress beforehand!” she teased.

“Most illogical… but I will observe the tradition.” He rose with her, extending his fingers in the oz’hesta. “Until you return,” he said simply.

Amanda touched his fingers with a tender smile, and then dashed away.

Sporn and T’Lina were already in the hovercar, and they made good time across the city to the dress designer’s boutique. Alain Gichot was an up-and-coming fashion designer with a growing reputation for beautiful and elegant wedding dresses. Also a shrewd marketeer, Gichot had offered Amanda one of his dresses. When the three stepped inside the boutique Alain himself enthusiastically greeted them.

“Bon jour, Mademoiselle Grayson et votre amis!” the short, wiry man exclaimed.

Knowing that it was unlikely that T’Lina nor Sporn spoke French, Amanda introduced them and guided the conversation back into Standard. Alain’s accent was heavy but understandable.

Sporn surveyed the interior of the boutique, filled wall-to-wall with gauzy fabric, ephemeral dresses and undergarments for the same, and promptly notified the two women, “I shall station myself outside the entrance.”

Amanda stifled an amused snort.

Their work began in earnest as Alain wheeled out a large cart loaded with dresses and presented each one to Amanda, along with an array of undergarments and accessories to go with each.

T’Lina’s curiosity was thoroughly piqued; Human wedding dresses were far more complex than Vulcan wedding garments. Some of these, she thought, might be hazardous to remove with any sort of haste. Surely they could be designed more efficiently? Perhaps this is not the intent, she considered, and wondered at the Human males who were apparently unconcerned about how long it would take to undress their wives.

Outside, Sporn stood watch, convinced that remaining outdoors and observing those in the vicinity was a better use of his skills than trying to do so in the midst of all those strange Terran garments.

He suddenly became aware of a child’s strident cry, his ears telling him it was coming from somewhere around the corner. He took no immediate action; logically, the child’s caregiver would attend. But as the seconds went by and the child’s cries became more and more anguished, Sporn grew concerned. He could not leave his post, yet it was not acceptable to leave a helpless being in harm’s way if he could assist.

The street was deserted. Sporn quickly comm’d T’Lina, “Checking disturbance.” At her confirmation, he verified his phaser’s stun setting, and then stepped around the corner into a dim alley. Seeing a small, prone bundle, he ran toward it. An almost imperceptible whistle alerted him and he spun, but not in time to avoid the neurotoxin-loaded dart that hit him from above.

Amanda had tried on several dresses, asking T’Lina for her opinion and engaging Alain in a spirited discussion, often in French, about the merits of each. The next one she put on, however, made her catch her breath. It was pearly white, with enough pinkish undertones to highlight her pale skin. The gown had simple, elegant lines, just a touch of pearl and lace trim in the right places, and a long but narrow train.

Coming out of the dressing room, she simply said, “Alain, this is beautiful. I think this is the one.” She noted that T’Lina was on her comm and didn’t interrupt the guard. After a brief discussion with Alain, she turned back to the dressing room wearing a satisfied smile.

She was halfway out of the dress when she heard T’Lina. “T’Sai Amanda?”

“Yes, T’Lina?”

“I cannot reach Sporn on the comm. I am concerned –”

At that moment there was a deafening explosion and everything went dark.

Abduction

The force of the explosion slammed Amanda against the wall of the dressing room. Sore, and sure she would be bruised tomorrow, she was otherwise unharmed. The power seemed to be off in the boutique, and there was an acrid smell of smoke. Her ears were ringing and she realized it must have been a sonic bomb.

“T’Lina?” Amanda shouted.

T’Lina started to answer “T’Sai—” and then, to her horror, she heard the unmistakable whine of a phaser burst. A heavy thud on the floor, and then nothing.

“T’Lina!”

Then Alain’s voice raised in alarm, “Mon Dieu! What are you doing? You cannot—” He was cut off with the sound of something dense forcibly impacting flesh and bone.

Still in pitch black, Amanda frantically pulled herself out of the dress and yanked open the dressing room door, preparing to make an escape. She pulled up short, though, when confronted by three Humanoids wearing blinding headlamps.

“Don’t move, Amanda Grayson,” a strange voice demanded. “As you probably already know, we are armed and very willing to use our weapons.”

“Who are you?” Amanda demanded angrily. “What have you done to them?” Damn, my comm is in the dressing room…

“Not your concern,” the voice replied. “The man will have a nasty headache in a few hours. The alien is not our problem.”

“Let me see her!”

“As we suspected, you are far too concerned with these aliens than your own kind. Let’s go!”

At that two pairs of hands grabbed Amanda’s arms and began to wrestle her toward a door in the back. She screamed “T’Lina!” and struggled violently, kicking one of her assailants hard enough to make him or her fall away. She turned with a vengeance on the remaining one holding her, but before she could free herself she felt a painful slam on the back of her head and the inside of her skull exploded in stars. Then everything really went black.

Trauma

Over at the Earth Parliament building, Sarek was briefing Soran on the outcome of a meeting as they walked out toward Stell and the waiting hovercar. Growing accustomed to the pleasant thrum of the bond with Amanda in the back of his mind, he was startled when, without warning, he was jolted with an abrupt surge of concern, a spike of anger, and then fear. And then he stumbled into the wall.

Intense pain and nausea washed over him in an instant. It felt as though he’d been slammed on the back of the head – and he could not sense Amanda. He was vaguely aware of Soran’s hands on his shoulders, shouting “Sarek!” as he frantically tried to focus on the bond. A painful, terrifying moment later he sensed it. There!… Very weak. She lives, but she is impaired. What has happened?!

He dragged his eyes open to focus on Soran’s concerned face. “Contact Stanek—” he began.

Soran was already handing him a comm. “Stell wishes to speak to you urgently, S’haile.”

Stell looked awful, and his voice shook even as he tried to control it. “S’haile, something of concern has happened. I cannot sense T’Lina…”

“Understood, Stell. We will be there at once.” Sarek pulled himself upright and gestured toward the front entrance. Ignoring the curious stares of the Humans they passed, both Vulcans raced to the waiting hovercar.

The pungent odor of vomit hit them as soon as they entered the vehicle. “I ask forgiveness,” Stell apologized, still looking unsteady.

“The cause was sufficient,” Sarek said quickly, working to control his own gag

reflex.

Soran quickly assessed the situation. Disrupted bonds were a serious thing, suggesting grave injury or worse for the victim’s bondmate. And in any case neither of his compatriots were in appropriate condition to operate the hovercar. Ordering Stell to the back he hopped into the driver’s seat and handed Sarek the comm. “Stanek for you, S’haile. To the embassy?”

Sarek nodded, grateful for his aide’s efficiency. “Stanek, status report,” he demanded.

“S’haile, T’Lina sent off an exception report from her comm three point seven five lirt’k ago. We are unable to raise her or Sporn, although both of their comms are operative.”

“Amanda?” Sarek tried but did not fully succeed at keeping the edge out of his voice.

“The same, S’haile,” Stanek replied gravely. “Her comm is operational, but we are unable to make contact.”

Sarek’s mouth set into a grim line. “Have you scanned their location?”

“Yes. There appears to have been some disturbance to the building, although there does not seem to be any outward damage. T’Lina and Sporn are there.” The security chief hesitated for an instant. “I cannot ascertain Dr. Grayson’s location, S’haile. She does not have a subdermal locator.”

Inwardly Sarek groaned. He knew she didn’t. Given her aversion to security in the first place, he had not forced the issue of the locator. Now was not the time to chastise himself, however. He needed to be completely focused on finding Amanda.

What to do next was an easy decision. “Send the building coordinates here. We will meet you there. Contact Federation Security on the way.”

“S’haile, I do not believe it wise for you to—” Stanek began, but Sarek had cut the connection.

Soran was already changing course to head for the boutique. They were close enough that they would be there by the time Stanek and his team beamed over.

Stell, having heard the conversation with Stanek, asked, “T’Sai Amanda is not in the same location?”

“Unknown,” Sarek replied, his voice grim. He felt nothing through the bond. Amanda had not died, for he would have experienced that, but she was not capable of responding to him in any way.

“We will find her, S’haile,” the guard asserted.

Sarek nodded in acknowledgement of his words, then turned toward the younger man. “Can you sense your bondmate?” he asked quietly.

Stell closed his eyes. “Yes, very dimly. She is not well.”

“We will recover T’Lina also, Stell.”

Captive

Amanda awakened to an intensely painful throbbing in the back of her head. It hurt to move, she felt sick, and in the darkness she couldn’t tell if she could see clearly. I must have a concussion… It took her a moment to realize that the rocking motion she felt surrounding her was not her own dizziness but the motion of waves – she was on a boat. She closed her eyes again and listened. Sure enough, the sounds of boat and hover traffic in the distance and the occasional cry of a gull – perhaps I’m on the bay? she thought hopefully.

It was almost completely dark where she was, presumably below deck somewhere, but from what she could tell she was on some type of small pleasure craft. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find out much more; her hands were cuffed behind her and around something that prevented her from sitting up.

Then she heard the sound of voices, including one she recognized as the lead abductor from the boutique. “We’ll be safe for awhile; those sand dwellers won’t think to look for us here,” said the one, followed by chuckles from two others. It sounded like they were above her on deck.

“Yeah, and won’t everyone be surprised when she calls it off,” added a second voice. “I bet his Satanic head explodes!”

Amanda froze in the darkness below, straining to hear every word.

“Are you sure you know how to work that thing?” came the first voice again. “Our backers will be pretty pissed off if your ‘surprise’ doesn’t turn out as planned.”

“I know enough. It’s just an old electroconvulsive therapy machine, retooled a bit to promote suggestion – you know, like hypnosis. So zap – she gets de-programmed from alien’s-bride-to-be back to straight-thinking Human. Or at least enough to truly screw things up for them.”

“That’s sick,” a third voice chimed in, “as in excellent.”

“I don’t know,” First Voice said dubiously. “Stanoff will have your head if this doesn’t go right. I thought the original plan of keeping her hostage long enough to cause a diplomatic meltdown with the Vulcans was good enough. Centauri will go down the tubes.”

“But not that damnable wedding, once she’s let go,” Second Voice insisted. “And that will just encourage more of the weak-minded to go and do the same thing. In no time all that’ll be left of Humanity will be half-breed alien mongrels. Disgusting! Besides, I made it through almost a year of med-aide school, and the guy who sold this to me owes me, big-time. It’ll work.”

“And even if it don’t, it’ll show those elitist know-it-alls what not to do with their alien friends!” Third Voice added viciously.

“That’s all well and good, but don’t forget, the Stanoffs care the most about protecting their interests. They may sympathize with your Human purity philosophy, but they mostly want Centauri to fail. Be careful not to mess with who’s bankrolling us.” First Voice continued, “Don’t get me wrong. I agree with you. Like should stick with like. It’s revolting what some people think is okay these days.”

Third Voice piped up again. “Like with like, you got it. And while we’re at it, no more aliens taking our jobs – or our women!” Laughter all around.

A cold fear crept through Amanda as she listened. What were they thinking? She had thought people with attitudes like this no longer existed on Earth. Obviously she was wrong. Whoever had abducted her sounded personally threatened by her bond with Sarek, and they had financial interests at stake to boot. And that device they were talking about: as if she thought her head had been knocked around enough, what they were discussing was truly frightening. Even if it didn’t work it would likely do serious damage.

More than anything else, though, what scared and angered her the most were the threats to Sarek and, by implication, any other non-Human on Earth. I have to get away from here, so no one can try to use me to hurt him.

Resolute on her goal, she needed to figure out how to accomplish it. She was below-decks on a boat somewhere, probably with a concussion, handcuffed so she couldn’t get up. And oh, great, I’m wearing nothing but a bustier and a slip. Trying not to focus on the possible implications of that, she thought some more. I have to figure out where I am, get off this boat, and avoid getting re-captured. If she were somewhere in San Francisco Bay, or any other familiar waterway, the first was easy. She could even think of a number of plausible ways to get off the boat. But as long as the boat was under power, she had little chance of remaining free. If I could somehow disable it, though…

Amanda was a strong swimmer, always had been. And she had recently upped her fitness routine. She could kiss T’Alen, she thought, for the healer had given her a set of fitness guidelines designed to make visiting – or living on – Vulcan tolerable with its higher gravity. If it comes down to a chase in the water, I can probably out-swim any of them. Assuming they don’t shoot me first.

She was interrupted from her thoughts by the sound of footsteps on a ladder. She put her head down and deliberately groaned. Act stupid, Amanda, she thought, and definitely don’t act like you know your way around a boat.

Third Voice called back upstairs. “Hey, I think she’s coming to!”

A moment later, Second Voice joined him. “Hello, Dear,” he greeted her. Both men were scruffy-looking, with a day’s growth of beard and clothing that suggested they were not used to the cool temperatures on the bay.

Amanda decided to ignore the way Second Voice greeted her even though she didn’t like his tone at all. “Oh my, what – what happened?” she asked, trying to sound groggy.

Third Voice spoke up. “You had a fight with your alien boyfriend. We gentle-Humans agreed to bring you out here with us so you could think things over.” Second Voice chuckled.

“Oh…?” Amanda wondered if she sounded at all confused like she was hoping to, for she seethed with anger. Bastards! She forged ahead. “Is there a, a … ladies’ room down here, by any chance? I’m sorry, I really need one.” She bit her lip, staring at the two men, whom she noticed were staring at her bustier. Bastards and creeps, she amended to herself.

After what seemed an eternity, Second Voice grunted and fished in his pocket before stepping toward her. She heard the jingle of keys and a click, and her hands were free. Pain shot through her arms as she moved them for the first time in hours. “Oh, thank you so much!” she gushed shamelessly. “Can you show me—?”

Third Voice, who was frankly leering at her, stepped forward. “This way, Doll,” he grinned, taking her arm and guiding her toward the front of the vessel. She managed to make it there without shaking him off in disgust.

Once inside, Amanda latched the door to the marine head and tried to think some more. How to get off the boat either unnoticed or in a way that I can’t be followed? She looked around the tiny room distractedly – and then her eyes fell on a roll of marine line sitting in one corner. Miraculous. If this boat were propelled by a low-tech rudder and propeller assembly – and it didn’t look like this was a fancier craft than that – then that rope could be very useful.

As quickly as she could, Amanda began wrapping a length of rope around one thigh. She could conceal it under her slip. Then all she would need to do was get overboard… hopefully. She had hidden several yards of the thin but wiry rope when Third Voice banged on the door.

“Hey Sweetheart! I don’t have all day!”

“I’m sorry,” Amanda quavered. “I’m so dizzy. I’m almost finished…”

“Well, hurry it up,” he groused.

The rope would be excellent for her purpose, if she could cut if off the roll. She tried cutting the many-stranded twine on a sharp metal edge by the sink, but only made slow progress. Desperate, and terrified she’d be caught, Amanda sawed the rope frantically with her teeth, finally ripping through it as she felt a sharp pain in her gums and tasted her own sticky-sweet blood. She hastily tied off the rope under her slip and rinsed her mouth in the filthy sink. Disgusting. Then she stuffed as much toilet paper as she could into the head and flushed.

She opened the door to the brooding Third Voice. “I’m sorry to make you wait,” she said. “I, I think I need some fresh air, though…”

Third Voice rolled his eyes. “Come on. Dolf wants to talk to you anyway.” He indicated the ladder to the deck.

Amanda climbed the ladder, holding her slip tightly around her, and spied a blonde-haired man who looked somewhat more put-together than the other two. This must be Dolf.

“Oh, it’s you,” the man said. “It’s about time. You gave us quite a bit of trouble back there at the bridal shop,” he added, suspicious eyes evaluating her.

Amanda lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“If you want to remain in one piece, you won’t do it again,” he said gruffly.

Amanda looked up at him and nodded, using the opportunity to glance behind him for landmarks. Sure enough, in the fading light she saw Alcatraz Island, and behind that, the old Bay Bridge. That meant the city had to be behind her and to her right, and possibly not too far away to swim…

“Can I sit down somewhere?” she asked, swallowing visibly. “I’m feeling seasick,”

Behind her, she heard Third Voice mutter, “Ah, for chrissake…!”

Dolf hastily motioned toward the rail. “Lean over there. And don’t throw up on the deck!”

Just then, Second Voice swore from down below, causing the other two to look down the ladder. “The head is clogged! That dumb—”

This was her moment. In that instant of distraction, Amanda took the deepest breath she could and propelled herself over the rail where she had been leaning and into the cold water. The shock of it made her head throb, but she knew she had only seconds before her assailants would be after her again.

She immediately swam under the boat and toward the stern. Sure enough, it had a simple propeller and rudder. Hastily unwrapping the rope from her leg, she heard shouting up above. Any moment now they could start the engine and her plan would be for naught. She could also be dead if she wasn’t careful to stay away from the lethal propeller blades.

Lungs straining as her air ran low, Amanda twined the rope first around the rudder, pushing it to the side, and then around the propeller several times. Aware of the increasing danger of the propeller starting she kicked away as fast as she could while still unwinding the length of rope behind her. Finally she freed herself. She had to surface for air.

When she gasped at the surface she heard another shout. “There!”

She was only about thirty feet from the boat. Its engine roared to life. She dove back under, in case they decided to use their weapons, and swam for shore.

Her ears straining, Amanda listened to the engine noise, but thankfully it did not grow louder. When she had to surface again, she hazarded a look back and saw that she had, indeed, succeeded. The craft’s propeller was fouled by the rope, and with its rudder jammed to one side, it now could only drift in an ineffectual circle. She heard shouts and curses, but did not stop to hear anything else. She turned back toward shore using the fastest stroke she had.

Although free of her captors, at least for the moment, what she was doing was still incredibly dangerous. The choppy water was probably about fifteen degrees Celsius, cold enough to bring on hypothermia-induced muscle failure within fifteen to twenty minutes. She estimated the beach was between one and two kilometers away; not too far to reach in that time for a fit, rested swimmer in a warmsuit. Amanda was essentially naked by comparison and injured as well. And there was a reasonable chance her attackers could repair the propeller and come after her again. I have no alternative, she thought, and knew she would keep swimming on willpower alone if she had to, until she either reached shore or drowned trying. As evening began to fall, it wasn’t clear which outcome was the more likely.

Pursuit

Soran piloted the hovercar to a stop in front of the boutique just as emergency vehicles were pulling up. Police, paramedics and disaster relief techs piled out and ran to the building to secure it, followed by the three Vulcans. Moments later Stanek, T’Alen and an assistant, and a team of embassy security personnel beamed in from the embassy.

A police sergeant brandished a weapon at the entrance, fearing that the arriving Vulcans were perpetrators. Seeing embassy IDs, she then began waving them away from the building for safety’s sake, when Sarek stepped forward authoritatively.

“Madam, your concern is noted, but there are Vulcan nationals on these premises at this moment who are likely injured. Do not cause a diplomatic incident.”

The sergeant stepped aside.

Moments later security teams found Sporn and T’Lina. T’Alen quickly examined Sporn and informed Soran, “He has been heavily dosed with a neurotoxin specific to Vulcans. He must be taken to the embassy at once for treatment.” Some rapid words with her assistant, and he quickly beamed back to the embassy with Sporn.

The healer then turned her attention to T’Lina. “T’Lina has multiple injuries,” she said. “She has been hit with near-lethal phaser fire at close range and has a head wound, apparently from a fall.” Security personnel began to prepare T’Lina’s stretcher for beam-out when T’Alen’s eyes fell on Stell. “Stell. Accompany your bondmate back to the embassy.”

Stell looked torn. I must stay with Osu Sarek—“ he began when Stanek cut him off.

“I have a full detail here to attend the kevet-dutar,” he said. “Go attend to your bondmate.”

A grateful Stell hurried to beam out with his mate.

A dazed Alain Gichot, head bloodied from being clubbed, was being tended by paramedics while he railed in French. Sarek stopped for an instant to listen – explosion, power out, T’Lina and Gichot attacked, multiple assailants. He picked up his pace, rapidly searching the premises for Amanda, until he reached the blown-out back door. It was obviously the source of entry and egress for the perpetrators. Close by was the dressing room that still held Amanda’s belongings, but she was nowhere to be found. She has been abducted.

Sarek knew he must not react to the emotions within that threatened to boil out of control into blinding fury. I must control, most of all for her. Turning deep within himself, he struggled and finally managed to impose harsh discipline on his anguished self so that he could continue to function.

As he forcibly composed himself, his expression turned deadly calm. He was aware that he was all too capable of committing unspeakable violence in her defense but knew he must not let that happen. Still, as a part of his mind reflexively reviewed the Vulcan martial art forms of 'a'sum'i, he had to consciously re-focus away from the deadly ones.

T’Alen, coming to see if Amanda had been found, saw his struggle. “S’haile —?” she began, but Sarek’s steely gaze silenced even her.

“Return to the embassy, T’Alen, and tend to the wounded there.” Sarek turned toward Soran. “Amanda has been taken. We must track the assailants.”

The police sergeant, now flanked by a Federation Security detective, overheard and objected. “Ambassador, this matter is under Earth and Federation jurisdiction–”

“Not when it concerns my wife.” Sarek did not deign to explain the subtleties of bondmate versus wife; he simply needed to make the gravity of the situation undeniably clear.

Both police officers’ eyes widened at Sarek’s tone and eyes that brooked no argument whatsoever. Vulcans were a peaceful people, they understood, but instinct was urging them not to cross this one here. If there were a jurisdictional dispute, they’d let someone else deal with it later.

Sarek turned from the Human officers, for they were inconsequential, searching anew for clues as to where Amanda had been taken. As he paused over her discarded street clothes in the dressing room, a bizarre sensation suddenly overcame him: he was swimming – swimming in very, very cold water. And he was so tired, but fearful: he dare not stop. Confusion reigned for a moment. I do not know how to swim…

His eyes flew wide. Amanda is swimming! And she is exhausted. Where?? Immediately he summoned Soran and Stanek, then turned to confront the two Human officers who had backed away from him a moment ago and were now eyeing him with caution. “Where is the nearest large body of water?” he demanded.

“Uh, the bay, I guess, about eight blocks from here,” one responded, baffled.

“My wife is there. She is in danger of drowning,” Sarek asserted. “We must assemble a rescue team at once.”

The sergeant and detective looked at one another as if the Vulcan had surely lost his mind. What is he talking about??

Sarek’s expression remained impassive but his words revealed his impatience. “We require rescue personnel at once. I will tolerate no delay!”

Seeing the doubt on the Humans’ faces, Soran interceded. “Officers, Ambassador Sarek has a valid basis for his request. It would be advisable if you acceded to it.”

The detective did a quick calculation. They as yet had no leads here, and if while they continued to search the ambassador’s spouse actually did drown… “I’ll take you,” he said. “Sergeant, you can manage things here.”

Sarek and Soran promptly climbed into the detective’s vehicle, which was followed by a paramedics’ van. Stanek and two security guards took the embassy flitter. As he turned toward the bay, the detective turned to Sarek. “I’m Detective Sanchez, sir. Do you know where on the bay?” He was dismayed to see Sarek’s eyes close for a long moment. This could turn out to be a fool’s errand, Sanchez thought grimly.

Sarek opened his eyes, but they were still focused on something distant. “Is there a location with… large rocks on a north-facing beach? There are tall trees above the water… a violent surf.”

Sanchez stared back at the Vulcan. “That would be the beach at the base of the Golden Gate Bridge,” he declared, mystified.

“Take us there at once.”

Rescue

Amanda figured she’d reached the point where she was swimming on willpower alone. The tide was pulling her out toward the entrance to the bay, almost under the Golden Gate Bridge. She couldn’t feel her fingers or her toes anymore, and her numb limbs were starting to flail clumsily. She was chilled deep in her core; hypothermia was setting in. She refused to give in, though; her only chance was to reach the shore. The choppy whitecaps were giving way to breaking waves; she must be getting close to the beach.

Sure enough, she was right about the breaking waves. In minutes they were breaking over her almost continuously, but she still seemed a long way out. She could see the beach, but it was rocky and pounded by the surf. She was being pummeled, and she knew she would not fare well against those rocks. I’m so tired, and so cold…

ooo

The hovercar pulled up to the edge of the beach nearest the Golden Gate. Sanchez could see nothing in the water; it was almost dark, anyway. The Vulcans exited the flitter immediately, however, so Sanchez followed the stone-faced aliens as they swiftly approached the water. Sarek reached the surf first. Stanek was directing the two guards, while Soran took his place next to Sarek, looking out into the churning waves. He saw nothing. “S’haile—?” he began.

Before Soran could say another word Sarek exclaimed, “There!” pointing to something in the breakers that his keen vision was able to pick out in the fading light, about a hundred yards offshore. He threw off his cloak and boots and without hesitation sprinted into the water.

Soran shouted after him in alarm, but uselessly, “Sarek! You do not swim!”

Sanchez caught up to the beach-bound Vulcans and gaped in disbelief. “What the hell?!”

Sarek had glimpsed something, and a tremor in the bond told him he was correct. Gambling that the water at that distance was not deeper than he could stand, he plunged into the surf. The water was frigid. He could tell that Amanda was fading fast. K’diwa, I am here, he thought urgently as he fought his way outward through the waves.

ooo

After being swamped for the third time in a row by a huge wave, Amanda tried treading water for a moment as she coughed out the salt water she’d swallowed. So tired… Maybe I can just float here for a minute… There was numbness in her core and she felt the weight of the ocean pulling her down…

Then she felt his thought. //K’diwa…// Sarek is here! Here?! Suddenly alert, she frantically splashed in an effort to stay afloat while she scanned the shore. She saw movement in the water. Oh my God, he’s going to drown! The shock and fear giving her one last boost of adrenaline, she frantically kicked and pulled toward land.

Thankfully, mercifully, the waves propelled Amanda toward her target. Within a minute, she washed into him, almost knocking him over. He could barely stand at that depth, and she still could not. Grabbing at his tunic and too tired to speak, she pulled at him as she kicked toward shore. Sarek understood her intent. Grabbing her around her middle, he helped push her toward the beach. He stumbled, almost fell as breakers clobbered them, but her never let her go.

Finally, they reached the beach. By this time, he was holding her head up out of the waves so she could breathe. When he stepped out of the water cradling her, Sarek looked down at his bondmate and was shocked to see how pale her skin appeared and how blue her lips were. She was essentially naked, by now wearing only a single sort of undergarment twisted haphazardly around her waist. Her breath was coming fast and shallow, and Sarek realized she was probably going into shock. He also realized that he himself was deeply chilled, and that holding her close to his body wasn’t going to warm her.

By now there was a throng of press as well as paramedics and the Vulcan team gathered near the water’s edge. Oblivious to them all, Sarek sank to his knees in front of his discarded clothes and wrapped Amanda in his cloak. He pressed his forehead to hers for a brief moment. //I will see you well, K’diwa.// Then he arose, and, searching out the Human paramedics, brought her to them. “Please, tend to her,” was all he said.

Oblivious to the bedlam that exploded all around them, Sarek’s eyes remained fixed on Amanda as paramedics rushed to and fro. The police, who had by now caught up with them on the beach, were engaged in a spirited discussion with Sanchez and Stanek, every few moments looking and pointing out to the bay. The gaggle of reporters chattered loudly into recording devices while holo-cameras captured the scene in detail. At least this once they had the good sense not to assail Sarek with questions.

The aftermath was a blur. Sarek refused to leave Amanda’s side. He may have heard some of the Human paramedics speaking to his aides in hushed tones behind him, but he gave no indication. After a short while, Soran approached the dripping ambassador with several emergency blankets and spoke quietly to his friend. Another short while and Sarek nodded numbly, acceding to the logic of getting out of his soaked garments to reduce the risk of illness. A blanket draped over his body, he shrugged out of his water-logged clothing, only for the briefest moment taking his attention from Amanda. Soran called the embassy for a new set of robes for the ambassador and a healer to attend him.

Meanwhile, inferring that Amanda’s abductors might still be out on the bay, Sanchez called for marine back-up. Minutes later, a group of law enforcement personnel, accompanied by Stanek, set off across the bay. The kidnappers were quickly found, traversing back and forth looking for their erstwhile captive. At their apprehension, the trio fell upon themselves with angry recriminations. They also willingly named the Stanoffs as the instigators of the failed plot, providing UFP Security with plenty of usable information to make arrests and to foil other such machinations. The couple of reporters who had been allowed to ride on the police hover collected enough material that the resulting coverage would likely shut down the rest of the group from the adverse publicity alone.

Back on the beach, now warmed and rehydrated, Amanda regained consciousness. Sensing her, Sarek was immediately at her side, leaning close. Looking up at him, exhausted but relieved, she murmured, “Remind me… to teach you how to swim.”

“Are you well, K’diwa?” he asked, his voice husky with emotion he could not contain.

“Mmm-hmm,” was all Amanda responded; she was already almost asleep. Still concerned, Sarek knelt down next to his bondmate, preparing for a brief meld to verify her well-being.

Soran saw his friend splay his fingers and reach for her katra points in this most intimate touch. Just as the reporters and holographers still on the beach noticed what looked like an odd embrace between the ambassador and his fiancée, Soran stepped in front of the pair, effectively blocking any image capture. “Enough,” he called out authoritatively. “Allow them privacy.”

Just descending into the meld, Sarek heard and was again grateful for his friend. As he touched Amanda’s thoughts, she told him again and he sensed to his own satisfaction that she would be all right. //I cherish thee, Amanda,// his mind voice murmured to his beloved as he allowed sleep to overcome her again.

For their part, the press contingent scored again, even without a holo of the couple’s last, somewhat strange interaction on the beach. Quickly blanketing the newsfeeds were vids and holograms of a dripping Ambassador Sarek carrying Amanda Grayson away from the water, she wrapped in his cloak and bedlam all around them. The news feeds were unable to resist publishing a holo of the notoriously stone-faced and mysterious Vulcan ambassador in such an uncharacteristic pose, giving it the tongue-in-cheek caption "Elven Lord Rescues Damsel in Distress.”

The Vulcan embassy's statement accompanying the story, of course, focused on how the ambassador had noticed a Human in danger and had logically acted quickly to rectify the situation. Nevertheless, those who had been there knew the caption was a truer characterization of what had really happened — even though anyone who knew Amanda or what had transpired also knew she was far, far from a helpless ‘damsel’.

Chapter 13: October, 2229

Prelude

One month later, Amanda and John sat in a hovercar outside UFP Headquarters. It was a beautiful October day, and San Francisco was at its best. Outside the flitter, they were flanked on all sides by Federation Security forces, some visible, and a lot more not. Inside the building, the attendees to what would be an historic occasion awaited.

ooo

The weeks following the attempted abduction had passed in a surreal blur. After some days of convalescence, both Amanda and Sarek were pronounced fit and out of danger of any lasting complications from their watery adventure. Events evolved in some surprising ways thereafter.

After the events of that day were revealed, the tide of press coverage and public opinion abruptly turned. Commentators who had been harshly critical of their engagement sought to deplore and distance themselves from the attempted kidnapping and the ugly sentiments behind it. Far many more began to speak out in favor, calling for greater tolerance.

One particularly telling comment came from a surprising source. Detective Sanchez, interviewed for his role in apprehending the extremists, when asked about the Vulcan ambassador, declared decisively, “Anyone who thinks he doesn’t love her just hasn’t looked.”

When asked for a statement on Sanchez’ assertion, the ambassador, of course, refused to comment.

At the same time, news of a series of potential trade deals between Earth and other Federation members that would be possible with the ratification of the Centauri Accord hit the feeds, reinforcing the growing sentiment in favor of the Accord. It was ratified by Earth’s Parliament two weeks later.

Amanda’s efforts to secure a new position finally paid off, as well. Her old university near Boston agreed to an unprecedented joint appointment with Berkeley on the west coast, allowing her to comfortably remain located in San Francisco as well as teach in two locations. She was also pleasantly surprised to receive a letter of welcome from the Vulcan Science Academy, requesting that she speak to the Academy’s leadership “at such time as relocating to Vulcan becomes a logical consideration.”

That time might not be that far in the future. Two more surprising pieces of news had come from Vulcan, in the form of a call from T’Pau.

“I wish to make the acquaintance this Human bondmate of yours, Sarek,” she had announced. “I found her presentations to the Terran media to be quite logical,” the matriarch had commented. “And this news of her escaping captors through the water is most interesting. Sarek, what were you doing when your bondmate was in this inhospitable situation?” Before he could reply, she forged ahead. “No matter. I wish to speak to her, this Amanda, to learn more of her. You will see to it.”

Sarek’s impressive control hid all traces of any of the myriad of expressions that could have crossed his face. “Yes, Matriarch.”

“There is one more matter, Sarek. The High Council has concluded its deliberations regarding your assignment.”

Sarek calmly raised a brow, not revealing that he was prepared for the worst.

T’Pau looked with approval at her proud, unyielding son. “You will vacate your assignment.” She paused a moment. “The High Council has deliberated at length, and has concluded that your recent satisfactory results with the Centauri Accord and in other matters makes you the logical choice to represent Vulcan as its next ambassador to the Federation.”

No evidence of a reaction, surprise or otherwise, made itself visible on Sarek’s countenance. “Indeed. I am honored by the Council’s decision,” he responded with quiet dignity.

“Live long and prosper, Sa-fu,” his mother told him.

“Peace and long life, Ko-mekh,” came his reply before the connection ended.

Stepping into the Future

Amanda was pulled from her reverie by an awareness of her brother staring at her. “You look beautiful, Amanda,” he said, his voice catching. “Mom and Dad would be very happy.”

Amanda squeezed his hand. “I think you’re right.”

“Are you ready for this?” John asked. She knew he meant not only the immediate ceremony but also the life that would commence after, the life she had chosen with a man not of her planet, who shared none of her species’ millennia of history, but who already possessed her heart.

She fingered the fiery red stone on her ring finger, recalling how Sarek had presented the rare Vulcan stone that he had had set as an engagement ring. She had been propped up in bed, still recovering from her ordeal in the bay, and he had again gotten down on one knee. This time when her tears began he was not alarmed, but instead had offered her his two fingers so he could embrace her mind.

Now Amanda’s eyes grew distant for a moment, sensing Sarek, not far away, waiting for her. She turned back to her brother. “Oh, yes,” she answered. “I might not know what the future holds for us, but we are ready.” She placed one hand on the door control, gathering her skirt and flowers in the other. “Shall we go?”

ooo

When Amanda and John entered the hall, her arm tucked in his, they heard the music softly playing. Gerard had done a beautiful job, transforming a utilitarian meeting hall into a space dedicated to a most important and sacred purpose. That purpose was clear even as the decoration was understated and managed to be pleasing to both Human and Vulcan tastes.

Pausing in the rear, Amanda looked out at the gathered guests. The entire Vulcan delegation, of course; the Universal Translator team; John’s family; colleagues and friends from Harvard, Berkeley and elsewhere; and a host of ambassadors, Federation officials and other dignitaries were joined by Detective Sanchez and many of the other first responders from that day.

A small contingent of Federation Security personnel, flanked by members of an elite Vulcan guard, stood along the walls, looking formidable. Amanda had conceded to Sarek’s desire for the security both to ease her mate’s concern for her safety as well as to ensure that Stanek and his team could attend as guests.

At the front of the room stood Justice Stewart, who waited with her dear friend Marcia to one side and Soran to the other. And then there he was. Sarek was dressed in magnificent formal robes she had never seen before, dazzling and elegant. //I am here, beloved,// she whispered in her mind voice, wondering if he could sense her from a distance.

A moment later she felt his answering call. //I await you, K’diwa,// came his thought, and she saw him turn those piercing eyes in her direction. It took her breath away.

The music changed then and it was time. John squeezed her hand reassuringly and Amanda smiled and nodded as they stepped over the threshold and down the long aisle.

It seemed to take forever to get to the front, to reach him. Amanda could feel her heart beating wildly as the faces of friends and colleagues passed in a blur, but she savored the moment, seeking to commit every second to memory.

Sarek straightened still further as his eyes fell upon Amanda slowly walking toward him. She is beautiful, he thought, in all ways, and this time he didn’t even question the logic of it. They were commencing a ceremony alien to his people, but which would bind them together much as the one to be held on his own planet a year or two hence. Amanda was his bondmate, his k’diwa, and was now about to become his wife. He was grateful that his control was equal to the task of containing the powerful emotions surging through him at this moment. What I feel for her is… profound.

Amanda had reached Sarek’s side. For a moment his eyes held such feeling she had to look down, afraid she would start to cry. She looked back up at him and their fingers brushed.

//I love you.//

//I cherish thee.//

Justice Stewart cleared his throat. He looked over the audience expectantly before he began to speak.

“Dearly beloved, we are here assembled, in the presence of these witnesses, to join together this man, S’chn T’gai Sarek cha Skon, and this woman, Amanda Rebecca Grayson, in marriage.

“Family and friends, I welcome you to this day of celebration. Amanda and Sarek have invited us here to this place to share in their declaration of lifelong commitment to each other.”

Stewart then turned to his friend. “Sarek, do you intend to take Amanda to be your wife? Do you enter into this sacred bond with a clear eye and a full heart, to pledge yourself in honor, love and trust to this woman as her companion for the journey of life?”

Sarek’s voice reverberated in the hall. “I do.”

Stewart looked to Amanda. “Amanda, do you intend to take Sarek to be your husband? Do you enter into this sacred bond with a clear eye and a full heart, to pledge yourself in honor, love and trust to this man as his companion for the journey of life?”

“I do,” came her answer, clear and confident.

The couple then joined hands to recite their vows to one another.

“I, Sarek,” he began with an orator’s stately grace, “take you, Amanda, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; in joy and in sorrow; to love and to cherish; and to be faithful to you alone, as long as we both shall live.”

Even though the words included emotions he would not choose to give voice to, and had been conditioned by his culture not to acknowledge, he had no problem doing so here. They were tradition for his wife’s people, and he would honor them. It was only logical.

“I, Amanda, take you, Sarek, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; in joy and in sorrow; to love and to cherish; and to be faithful to you alone, as long as we both shall live.” Amanda’s joy rose as she spoke the words. She meant very one of them.

She knew Sarek could feel her swelling emotion, and she could sense his controlled echo in response. Temporarily oblivious to the their surroundings, the pair just stared at one another, lost in the moment of what they had just done.

There was silence for a moment before Stewart spoke again to conclude the ceremony. “Sarek and Amanda have consented together in marriage, and have witnessed the same before you, and have pledged their faith to each other. May these two find happiness in their matrimony. May they live faithfully together, may they ever remain compassionate. May their years be rich in the joys of life, and their days be long upon the earth.

“By the power of your commitment to each other, and the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Stewart looked to Sarek. “You may kiss the bride.”

In a unique public moment, Sarek bent his head to gently kiss his wife. As he did so, his paired fingers reached for hers, and their minds hummed together in private celebration.

The outside world made itself known again as the recessional music began, signaling the couple to go forth. They proceeded back down the aisle and out into the sunlight. There was a brief pause on the steps of Federation Headquarters as dozens of holographers captured the moment – and for once it was not an intrusion. They then stepped into a waiting hovercar to take them to the reception.

Per Sarek’s request, they did not stay long.

The new couple efficiently greeted their guests, danced a first dance, and cut cake together. Shortly thereafter Amanda tossed her rose bouquet, which was inadvertently caught by a perplexed T’Lina. (Needless to say, Sarek declined to bare his wife’s leg before guests for a garter belt toss). It was rumored that Rob and Jennreth’nu had plotted to smother Sarek and Amanda’s flitter with “Just Married” paraphernalia, but they were thwarted by an alert Vulcan security detail.

The press reported an “elegant reception,” highlighting the many luminary guests in attendance but kindly and wisely leaving the bride and groom to themselves, reporting only, “the bride and groom put in a brief appearance before departing to honeymoon at an undisclosed location.”

The Honeymoon

They had planned a honeymoon in Carmel, a breathtakingly beautiful spot on the central California coast. Security was tight, and the location confidential. Nevertheless rumors brought the press, as of course they would, and when a lone couple was seen walking along the beach of an exclusive resort in that locale at sunset, those rumors appeared to have, once again, paid off.

No one thought it unusual that the couple stayed well away from the water as they walked.

ooo

Stell and T’Lina noted the similarities in texture and other characteristics between the sand underneath their feet and the sands of their home world. Of great interest, and some trepidation, was the crashing surf so close to the dry sand – so different from Vulcan. Another one of an infinite set of diversities in infinite combination.

“This is a most unusual assignment, Sa-kugalsu,” T’Lina remarked as they walked.

“Indeed,” Stell replied, “but I am certain I understood our instructions. We are to appear as a ‘honeymooning couple’ for the next eight days in this location.”

“Yes,” T’Lina acknowledged, stepping a bit closer to her bondmate. “My research into the behavior this ‘honeymooning’ entails has yielded interesting results. I am gratified that S’haile Sarek and T’Sai Amanda chose us for this work.”

Stell shyly extended his index and middle finger toward T’Lina. “Indeed,” he murmured again, “As am I, my ko-kugalsu.”

They walked along the beach until darkness fell.

ooo

At about the same time, the Surak warped out of Earth orbit. Amanda sat for a moment on the sleeping platform in the ambassador’s cabin, stretching luxuriously. They had not stopped to change but had come aboard directly from the reception.

She turned now as she heard him enter after conferring with the captain. Amanda’s face lit up when she saw him, just as it would for rest of her life. Glad to be alone with her husband at last, she could sense sultry anticipation from her mate and she was sure he could feel the same eagerness in her through their bond.

She looked out the window at the permanent starry night enveloping the starship. “I hope T’Lina and Stell are enjoying themselves,” she commented, smoothing the creases in the dress she still wore.

Across the room, Sarek raised a brow. “I doubt that is a condition that they would attribute to themselves, my wife. They are central operators in an important mission to ensure the security of a certain Vulcan diplomat… and his new mate.”

How does that voice of his make security sound so sexy? “Uh-huh,” came Amanda’s dry response as she rose and crossed the room to her husband, leaning against his chest. “I can only imagine what the press coverage will be when the decoy is discovered. And I can’t imagine the commentary when it’s learned what a ridiculous honeymoon we did choose.”

Sarek looked down at his new wife, one side of his mouth curling upward ever so slightly in amusement. “My mother wants to meet you. Hence the eight-day journey to Vulcan is logical. And,” he added, once again cupping her shoulders in his large hands, a suggestive eyebrow climbing, “as I understand the purpose of a honeymoon, a well-equipped starship on which we are the only passengers would seem to be an appropriate venue indeed.” His voice deepened as his fingers found the fastenings on the back of her dress. “Shall we test my hypothesis, my wife?”

Amanda looked up at her new husband, who definitely appeared to be in an inquisitive mood. She smiled for them both. It had been at once a long road and a rapid journey to this point. And with the soul mates’ love they held in their hearts, she knew they could handle anything together. It was time to celebrate.

“Indeed, yes, my husband and my love,” she responded with an eager purr, “I have no doubt I’ll be more than gratified by your company…”

THE END