Happy Christmas Everyone!!!! This is not a mega present of a story, but it's the best I can do as school is kinda busy at the mo. The story is in response to a challenge by someone in this group (could they tell me who they were?), it was a while ago but I remembered having a half formed idea at the time. The thing that's got me interested in writing and completed the idea was the sale of Sarek's robe on eBay.

(Warning, it's not seen a beta and everyone here knows what I'm like LOL!)

Archivist's note: It has now been betaed.

The Letter

by Tegan
Rated: PG

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Star Trek and am just borrowing the characters for a bit of fun… again.

Summary: Set directly after The Voyage Home, the story refers to a message Sarek wrote to Amanda.*



The Letter


Amanda pulled the hood upwards until the robe completely engulfed her and then wiggled her toes against the double hem at its base. As the silken lining fell across her lips and nose, she breathed in the smell (his scent) and giggled along with the familiar rush of desire.

It wasn't fair that she should be here alone hugging his clothes, especially after he'd almost been killed. Too many times Sarek returned after days of travelling, only to be called away immediately for a council debriefing and always before she had time to 'properly' welcome him home. On this occasion he'd only managed about five minutes of showering and changing and he was gone, no doubt, for hours of questions. Only his discarded clothing remained as proof of their owner's return.

She groaned aloud with irritation, then rolling over, pushed his robe onto his pillow and scooped them both up in her arms. Another chuckle escaped her. No doubt he would return to find her like this again after several decades of lectures on the impropriety of embracing his garments. However, she would have to make do with the robe. She could not wait for him; sleep was already starting to cloud her thoughts and sleep had been a rare luxury of late.

She had barely coped with Spock's death and then she had to face his fal-tor-pan. Almost immediately after this, Sarek left for Earth to plead for leniency, followed by her son and his friends to face charges. Events turned against them again and this time all where feared dead, destroyed by an alien probe. However Kirk had managed to turn the tables back and cheat death once more.  The rollercoaster of emotions had thankfully stopped two days ago when her husband had called from Starfleet Headquarters to say he was returning on the next ship leaving for Vulcan, whenever that was. Unfortunately the next ship was an Orion ore freighter with only a three man crew. Now she had him back… well, at least his clothes.

Her hand automatically stroked the fabric, pushing between the folds in search of warmth and finding only pockets. She came awake suddenly as her fingers encountered something solid and, pushing herself up on an elbow, she called for the lights.

The object in her hand was a white square made of old-fashioned paper. The back was sealed and as she turned it over, the front had her name written in Sarek's immaculate handwriting. A letter and it was addressed to her.

Her first impulse was to open it, but she caught herself in time. She hadn't been officially given this letter and if she opened it he may consider it prying. He would certainly find it odd that she'd been exploring his pockets. However, since she was sleeping with his robe, it would only seem logical that the letter would be noticed. She considered steaming it open then thought how silly it would look. He would surely realise what she had done.

Eventually she climbed out of bed and over to the room lights. Concealed in the walls, it was difficult to find anywhere where the light was strongest. A bright ray emitted above her make-up mirror and she ran over to hold the letter against it; a folded rectangular paper could clearly be seen inside, but nothing else.

Finally she flopped herself back in bed and held the letter above her. She would wait for him to return and ask him; after all it was no use sleeping now, her curiosity was virtually killing her!


.......



"Amanda."

"Hmm." She was amongst the roses, looking for Spock.

"Amanda"

It was her husband calling, why couldn't she find Spock? Had he run to the mountains again?

"AMANDA"

"I can't see." She woke up to find her husband leaning over her. It took at moment to refocus, "Sarek, you're back!"

"Some five-point-two hours ago Amanda. You've been sleeping quite soundly."

She looked out of the bedroom window. "It's morning already and you didn't wake me."

"I have just done so."

"Oh you! How was the council?"

"Difficult, but they see logic in my actions."

"They're lucky to have you back… and so am I." She pulled herself up, wrapped her arms about his shoulders and hugged hard. "I missed you so much."

He tightened his arms as he supported her. "You always do my wife." Then pushing her back down, he pulled himself onto the bed and lay along side her. "I see you've been sleeping with my robes again."

"You gave me little choice." She pulled the robe off and then remembered the letter. "Where's it gone?" He simply stared at her as she searched amongst the sheets. "My letter, where is it?"

"You wished to read it?"

"Of course!"

"Then why not open it?"

"Don't be silly, you never gave it to me. Besides, I took it from your pocket… and I wasn't looking honest, it fell into my hand."

He pushed her back down again and then looked into her eyes. "You removed that robe from the refresher after I discarded it."

"You know why. It's lucky too, the refresher would have ruined my letter."

He tilted his head and then gently pushed a lock of white hair away from her face. "The letter has gone. I assumed that you realised its purpose and therefore considered it redundant. As it was left unopened, it went into the recycler."

"But."

"Amanda, the letter was written when I supposed my life was about to end. As I am still here, its function was superfluous."

"You wrote me your last thoughts... and then binned them!"

"They were not my last thoughts, I assure you. I've maintained my sanity since writing the letter."

"Oh for god's sake Sarek, you know what I mean. You're just avoiding the issue." She shook her head and looked upwards towards the headboard. "I expect it was all written romantically and heart-felt, a letter of love, full of poetry… and now I missed it."

His hand reached out and pulled her chin back down, then his eyes locked with hers again. "You would wish for such a letter?"

"Yes. Well…no . Oh I don't know! I suppose I'm just used to you now. If you ever go all sentimental on me, I'll think you senile." She pushed her hand through the grey curls in his hair. "It would have been nice to know you cared. Well, I know that, but to have written proof of it. At least it would be something to read when you're not here, which is most of the time lately. I'm being silly and sentimental, I know."

"You have always been that way."

She looked at his lips, they were very close. "Anyway, I guess the letter was typical you. Just a list of instructions for the division of your estate, starting with 'To Amanda Grayson' and full of facts and figures, then signed 'regards, Sarek.'" She brushed her fingertips against his lips as she laughed.

His hand moved to the pillow and he pulled himself over until he hovered above her, quickly bringing his head back down so his lips now brushed against her cheek. "I have never signed anything with the word 'regards', Amanda." She noticed his voice had changed.

"That's because you only sign those grand diplomatic documents, an ordinary letter is beneath you." She gasped as his lips moved to her ear. "Aren't you too tired after all that travelling?"

"There are some things one can never tire of."

"I know what you're up to, my husband, trying to distract me from my recycled letter," she felt his warm hand under her nightshirt move upwards, "and you're doing a good job too."

He pulled back quickly, but his eyes were dancing. "Would you prefer to talk about letters, Amanda, or shall I show you what I wrote?"

She shook her head and tugged his back down, bringing their mouths fully together.


Somewhere in a corner of her mind, locked away from their bond and only after years of training to shield, was an almost forgotten question. She had quite clearly asked the Vulcan salesman about a retrieval procedure on all her new auto-cleaners, just in case she accidentally recycled something. He had found it highly illogical, but reluctantly fitted a 24 hour limit on them all; it meant she had a day to pull things back. Of course, she never mentioned it to Sarek.

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Hope you enjoyed it,

Merry Christmas... Tegan


* 'Sarek had spent the past few hours preparing himself, permitting himself a moment to consider his successes and releasing his regrets. Only one remained: no reserve power could be spared, no communications channel remained clear enough for him to transmit a message to Vulcan, to Amanda. He had written to her, but he doubted she would ever receive his message. All he wished to tell her must remain forever unsaid.'

The Voyage Home
 by Vonda N. McIntyre.