Pleasant Inconveniences
Author: Saidicam29
Characters: Sarek, Amanda
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. And Star Trek does not own me. Although for the right amount, they could.
Summary: The old "stuck in an elevator" challenge. But hey, the
idea was to write a short story, but a particularly original one. <G>
Can I have a big shout-out to beta-master Selek, archivist extraordinaire?
Pleasant Inconveniences
Ambassador Sarek and his chief advisor Soran hustled towards the turbo-lift
(with the fastest pace possible while maintaining a respectable decorum, of
course) well ahead of their security detail, who were preoccupied with holding
back a barrage of reporters. Soran depressed the button that would call a
lift car to their level then both turned to watch their guards struggle against
the tide, reporters of various alien origins shouting questions past them.
"They will not be able to hold them much longer," Sarek observed
quietly. "The security promised by
the Quivar government leaves much to be
desired."
"As does their turbo service," commented Soran as he turned back to
press the call button several more times. "I suggest when we arrive
at the suite we call a meeting with the other delegates to discuss postponing
the Loursan vote until a more suitable location can
be found."
"Agreed," Sarek said as he watched a smattering of reporters get
around the flank of his guards; then chaos ensued as more broke through and the
guards broke formation to intercede them.
Soran stepped in front of the ambassador, arms spreads to both protect Sarek
and placate the eager journalists - a last line of defense.
"The ambassador has no comment at this time," Soran shouted to be
heard over their yelling, but his words were ignored and the reporters continued
to squeeze against Soran and the guards, who had now formed a semi-circular
barrier blocking Sarek and the turbolift from the reporters.
Sarek stepped back, making no comment. His eyes scanned the crowd with
seeming casualness, but his gaze was alert, always looking for an unexpected
attack. So intent on the chaos before him, Sarek didn't hear the soft
chime of an approaching turbo-car, nor the sound of the doors
sliding apart.
"Ambassador Sarek," a soft, accented voice called from behind
him.
Sarek spun around to see a slight human female standing profile in the opened
lift doors, preventing the car from being called to another floor. He moved
into the car, and Soran moved back to better block the turbolift doors while
the guards remained in tight formation around them all.
"Excuse me," the woman asserted, attempting to squeeze past Soran,
but he was firming blocking the door, his back to her, and his attention too
focused on the throng before him to notice the woman's polite request.
The woman glanced at Sarek, biting her lower lip in agitation then lifted her
hand to tap the Vulcan on the shoulder. Sarek saw her hand pause mere centimeters from Soran, her unease clearly evident.
Taking a deep breath, the woman gave Soran a single tap on the shoulder and
tried again, this time her voice much louder, her tone more demanding.
"Excuse me!"
Soran turned around, still blocking the doorway, and firmly ushered the woman
further into the car. "I will meet you at the suite," he told
Sarek, then quickly programmed the lift to stop at each floor on the way
up. He stepped back out of the car, turning back to the crowd.
"Wait!" the woman called out, rushing forward to prevent the doors
from closing, but she was too late.
Sarek continued to observe the woman quietly as the car set into motion. Her
face was flushed, her hands fisted tightly at her sides. She took several
deep breaths then turned towards Sarek, stabbing him with a glare so furious it
caused a hitch in his own respirations. Sarek straightened, trying to
look commanding, and raised a brow in quiet inquisition. When she
provided no enlightenment, but instead turned back to the door, Sarek carefully
moved another step backwards, putting as much distance between them as
possible.
"You...intended to get off," Sarek commented, attempting to convey
apologies for what he believed was the cause of the woman's demeanor.
"No," the woman replied, her tone much lighter than it had been
earlier. "I enjoy riding in turbolifts."
She turned towards him again, meeting his gaze, her nose wrinkling
thoughtfully. "I guess you could call it a hobby."
Her sarcasm was not lost on Sarek, although he was puzzled by the ferocity of
her attitude towards him. Surely a few moments delay in leaving the
building did not warrant this much anger?
She turned her gaze back to the doorway as the car stopped and the doors opened
to allow non-existent passengers to debark. It seemed an exceedingly long
time before the doors closed again, and they continued their journey upward,
stopping at each floor as the settings demanded. The lift was silent as
the woman continually watched the indicator light roll through the panel as
they ascended to each floor, and Sarek continued to watch her speculatively.
The woman closed her eyes, tilting her head back and rolling it from side to
side, stretching. A sudden jolt to the car caught them both by surprise,
and the woman was almost knocked off her feet, but she caught herself on the
safety bar that lined the interior walls of the car. Her bag had a worse
fate, however, as it slid off her arm in the jostle and fell, spilling its
contents across the turbolift floor. She didn't seem to notice as her
gaze snapped to the indicator lights, her breathing suspended as she waited for
the next light to appear. "What happened?" she asked anxiously.
Sarek followed the woman's gaze to the light panel then returned to her.
"It would seem we have stopped between floors."
"Why? Why did we do that?"
"Unknown."
Starved for air, the woman was forced to take a deep breath, then another, the
act replenishing not just her oxygen, but also her control.
"Okay," she murmured so quietly Sarek wasn't sure if she was talking
to him or to herself. "There must be a comm
unit of some sort – something we can call for help on."
Sarek glanced quickly about the car. "I do not think so."
The woman looked his way, appalled. "No! There must be.
Maybe it's hidden behind a panel or something." She moved forward,
heedless of her belongings scattered beneath her feet, and began running her
hands along the walls beside the door.
"Why?" Sarek asked curiously.
"Why what?" she asked absently as she kneeled and continued to search
the bottom of the paneling for a hidden compartment.
"Why must there be a comm. unit in this lift?"
The woman let out an impatient sigh. "Because there must be some
means of reaching someone in case of an emergency." She sat back on
her haunches wearily, having finished her examination and found nothing.
"There's always a comm. unit in turbo lifts," she squeaked.
"Ah," Sarek said, nodding his head in understanding, then just as
quickly shook it side to side. "You are incorrect. I have been
to many places where no such feature existed." He squatted down and
began to collect the woman's things that had fallen near him. This seem
to finally draw her attention to the floor, and she also began to collect her
things, stuffing them unceremoniously back into her bag.
"So, what? We're stuck here until someone
finally notices one of the lifts isn't working?"
He placed some items into her bag then continued to help her pick up.
"Sometimes they have automatic alerting systems."
"Sometimes?" she
barked, laughing derisively. "This is your fault, you know. Why did he program it to stop so much?!"
Sarek's eyes snapped to hers upon hearing the accusation. "That is
illogical. The lift is designed to stop at each floor in the building; it
would not be the cause of a malfunction. As to why, it is so no one in
the lobby will know on which floor I debark."
"That's really some life you lead," she muttered angrily as she
grabbed more items from his hand and continued collecting her scattered
belongings.
"It has its moments," Sarek uttered back, grabbing the last item he
could reach and holding it out to her. When she grabbed for it he did not
let go, his actions causing her to stop and look at him directly.
"Worse case scenario," he said with deliberate calmness, "when
my aides arrive at the suite and see I am not there they will search for me, and
realize what has happened."
The woman stared at him for a long moment then her features softened, a slight
smile crossing her lips. "Thank you," she said humbly.
"I'm sorry. I'm not usually this…"
"Rude?" Sarek offered.
"Upset was kind of what I was going for." She smiled again,
more broadly. "I don't like being in confining places."
Sarek nodded, returning to a standing position. "I, too, prefer more
open areas."
The woman looked up at him, surprised. "Yeah...but Vulcans aren't
claustrophobic. I really start to panic in closed places."
"Are we not?" Sarek asked sardonically. "Forgive me, I did
not know."
The woman blushed furiously, again chewing at her lower lip. "I just
meant you don't seem affected by being stuck in here." She sighed,
looking down at her hands, and for the first time noticed she held a deck of
playing cards. "Do you play?" she asked, holding the cards up
for him to see.
"No."
The woman frowned. "Well, maybe I could teach you?" She
gestured for him to sit on the floor across from her.
"For what purpose?"
The woman sighed, her face contorting with some emotion Sarek could not
identify in the short time it was present. "It would give me
something to do, and...make the time pass faster, and...is it really logical to just stand there staring at the
walls?"
Sarek paused, then without a word gathered his robes around himself and
squatted, bracing his back against the wall for support.
"Okay," she uttered then began to open her cards.
"No," he said simply.
The woman looked up at him. "No?"
Sarek shook his head, confirming.
"Then what are we going to do?"
"Converse," he said simply, making himself more comfortable by
resting his elbows on his thighs and loosely clasping his hands before him.
"Conversation hasn't worked well for us so far," she pointed out, her
voice filled with doubt.
"True, but then it can do nothing but improve from here."
She smiled, nodding reluctantly, then placed her cards inside her bag and put
it aside. "Okay," she folded her hands on her lap
expectantly. "What do you want to converse about?"
Sarek took a deep breath, tilting his head as he watched the female
curiously. "Have we perhaps met before? I have the distinct
impression I have offended you in some way."
The woman smiled again. "No, we've never met."
Sarek noted she did not address the issue of offence. "I am curious
how you knew me by name. I am not generally well known among Quivarian citizens."
"I'm not a Quivarian citizen," she said
simply.
"Then you are a reporter."
The woman's mouth dropped open in surprise. "How dare you,
sir," she laughed lightly. "Now I am offended."
Sarek held his hands up defensively. "Forgive me. So, we have
never met before, you are not a Quivarian citizen,
but you are also not a reporter." He waited for several moments, expecting
her to elaborate. "And you are not particularly forthcoming."
She laughed again, a sound Sarek was beginning to be partial to. "All right. I know you because I am from
Sarek shook his head at her faulty logic. "I can generally walk
among
"No, not at all; but I do live quite near your embassy and – much like
today – there have been several occasions where you have usurped my plans and
ruined my evening." She gave a placating smile.
Sarek's eyes widened in surprise.
"Indeed? Then it seems I have caused offense."
She waved off his statement, her gaze locked demurely onto her own lap.
"I am curious…since I do know we have never been stuck in a turbo lift
together before, in what ways have I inconvenienced you?"
"Well," she said, bringing her gaze back up to meet his, "I
happen to be partial to eating at the Ambassador Hotel," understanding
dawned, and Sarek nodded knowingly, "and you must be as well, since you
seem to throw receptions there on a fairly regular basis. And when
Ambassador Sarek decides to throw a shing-dig at the
hotel, lowly school teachers like me are turned away."
"You are a teacher?"
The woman faltered in her speech, nodding hesitantly. "Oh, and just
recently I had wanted to go to the theatre," her brow creased in
concentration, "I don't recall the name of the play, but it was some
traveling company that was only here for a short time--"
"Tul'ok Varizank,"
Sarek named the play instantly, as there were very few that he bothered to
attend in the city, "performed by a company of Vulcan thespians."
"Yes, well, my boyfriend had wanted to surprise me by going there for my
birthday, and I was so excited because I really wanted to see it, but when we
arrived we learned the Vulcan embassy had bought out the entire show." She
gave him an accusing look.
"However, you did see it the following night?"
"No." She shifted her position, bending her legs to one side.
"It was such a short showing, and with no one in the city seeing it
opening night, the demand for the remaining tickets was astronomical. I
never got a chance to go."
"I see," Sarek shrugged apologetically. "I happen to know
the company is still planetside. There are
showings in various locations: .New
"Thank you, but no. I could hardly afford to travel all that way
just to see a play."
Sarek had just opened his mouth to speak when the car jolted again, hard, silencing the Vulcan while a small shriek of surprise
escaped from the woman, but the car began to move! Both of them quickly
stood, an air of relief and triumph filling the car as the next floor's
indicator light came on, and the doors open. The woman reached for her
bag and began to exit, stopping only when Sarek called to her.
"Where are you going?"
The woman stepped back into the doorway to keep them from closing.
"This is my floor," she explained. "I'm giving up on the
idea of going out tonight." She smiled at him warmly. "I'm not
sure I really believe you have claustrophobia, Ambassador, but I do want to
thank you for helping me with mine." She stepped back out of the
doorway, giving a short wave as the doors began to close.
She had just turned around when the thunk of the door
sensing an obstruction and quickly opening back up caught her attention.
She turned around to see Sarek's arm protruding from between the doors, and
they opened to reveal the Vulcan. "That's dangerous, you know."
He ignored her comment. "You never told me your name," he
reminded her, a hand against the door jamb ensuring they did not attempt to
close again.
"Amanda," she said shyly. "Amanda Grayson."
"Perhaps, Amanda Amanda Grayson," he teased
gently, "when we both return to
Amanda smiled, nodding pleasantly. "Perhaps we will," she
agreed. "I look forward to it, Ambassador."
"Sarek," he corrected her. "Actually, I will be dining
privately at the Ambassador Hotel in four days time."
"I see." Her eyes slowly roamed the length of his body, then met his eyes once more. "Thanks for the
warning." She turned again to go.
"It seems to me," Sarek said, causing her to turn to him once again,
"that I owe you a meal at that very establishment."
Amanda wrapped her arms around her waist. "Actually, by my count,
you owe me at least three."
"Is that correct?" She nodded, and the turbolift buzzed an
alarm at Sarek for obstructing it for so long. He ignored it.
"Then it seems we must take action to rectify the situation."
"Is that correct?" she parroted.
Sarek stepped back into the lift. "Fours day,
Amanda watched as the indicator panel above the doors showed he had ascended to
the next floor. Turning back to head towards her room, Amanda playfully
swung her bag back and forth, her mood light as she considered the Vulcan she'd
just met. "Fascinating!" she aloud, laughing in delight.
The End