A/N: I'm going to try for weekly updates. I doubt I can keep up the near daily ones I've been managing on the last couple stories. RL things to handle... But this was ready to start out into the world and I couldn't hold it back.

Unbetaed as of the moment.

Amanda Grayson needed sex.

She needed fucked. Impaled. Taken.

This one all consuming need was distracting her from daily life. It was making her eye the grocery clerk, and the parking attendant, and that guy in a suit on the train. It was taking over her entire life and she was tired of it.

It shouldn't be that hard for a reasonably attractive woman to accomplish a little shag now should it? The way everyone talked, men were constantly on the prowl for it. Stick your thumb out and they'd line up. That was the theory. Only how does a respectable schoolteacher let on she's horny without ruining her reputation? Amanda hadn't been able to figure that part out. Bars were a no go since the only jerks that had enough confidence to hit on her turned her stomach. Dating sites were slow and inevitably ended with her finding a stalker like puppy dog instead of a man.

And Amanda wanted a man.

No baby faced young gentlemen who didn't know what slot it went in. No measly mouthed vertically challenged wimps who couldn't hold her down while she bucked against them. And no innocent little mamma boys that only want babies and picket fences. Amanda Grayson needed sex, real sex - the kind that cuts off higher brain function and short circuits common sense, safety, and propriety. The kind of sex that makes the neighbors call the cops because it sounds like someone is getting murdered. The kind of sex you don't admit to even when you're drunk with your girlfriends.

Amanda Grayson wanted, for just a few hours, to feel like a real woman. Like a powerful, fearless, wanton, creature. Like a temptress, like a seductress, like a damn harlot.

And it wasn't going to happen.

Ben wasn't about to take her against a wall and pound into her so hard her head dented the plaster board. Ben wasn't going to flip her over the back of his couch, push her skirt up and her panties down, force her legs apart and plunge into her without even saying hello. Ben wasn't going to tie her to the bed and tease her until her mind stopped working and her muscles could only twitch from exhaustion.

No. Ben Weaver wasn't going to do any of those things because if Ben Weaver didn't shut up in the next thirty seconds she was going to kill him with her soupspoon.

They'd been dating for ages it seemed, ever since the end of grad school, and she'd known for some time it wasn't working out. But he was sweet and she considered him a friend, and how do you tell the nice guy you've been dating for five years that you not only "just want to be friends" but that you've gotten to the point that while you'd happily jump that bus boy over there if he held still long enough, you'd rather drown yourself in that crappy looking lobster tank than take him to bed.

At first it had been okay. A little hanky panky, a few fumblings. Amanda had assumed it would get better. After all, she wasn't terribly experienced herself, she'd spent all her time on schoolwork until then. They'd figure each other out. Sex got better with time. Right?

Only it seemed to get worse. Amanda hadn't thought she was odd. She had a libido. Every one did, didn't they? Apparently nobody clued Ben in on that memo. Every time she tried to talk to him about things she'd like to try or fantasies she had, he'd clam up and they'd go weeks if not months without any intimacy. And then the next time would be short and to script. Always to script. The same thing every time. Amanda knew exactly what he'd do to start it and exactly what he expected from her - which wasn't much- and that if she did anything to veer off into new territory things would wither and die. Literately.

And he seemed to think that their relationship was fine.

It wasn't fine. It was driving her crazy.

She'd tried to break it off several times but he was so nice she never could bring herself to totally end it. After all bad sex was better than no sex and since she'd never had luck in the dating department - men seemed to find her intimidating and either stayed away or wanted her to play mommy - she'd been making do. But there were not enough batteries in the world to give her what she needed and Ben wasn't even taking the edge off anymore. Christ, the ridge in her jeans was more stimulating than the lump of quivering patheticness sitting across the dinner table from her.

She was being slightly uncharitable, she knew. Ben wasn't a bad guy, but the longer this kept up the worse she was treating him and they both knew it. Amanda had reached such a point of sexual frustration that she couldn't even be pleasant to the man any more. He owned the piece of equipment she needed, damn it, and he wasn't willing to use it properly.

Her attention was obviously not on the conversation he was having with someone on the other end of his communicator, so in an attempt to drag her mind off of murder, Amanda turned her attention to rest of the restaurant. It was supposed to be a congratulatory dinner for her. She'd finally gotten the job she'd wanted teaching the accelerated students at a private academy just outside the new Federation headquarters in San Francisco. Ben and some friends were supposed to meet her at the restaurant for a fun night out. Only Ellen and David canceled because their two year old son Trevor had swallowed a laser pointer and was in the ER. Trish and Will had called at the last minute and couldn't make it because some work dinner had come up. So it was only Ben, boring old self-absorbed Ben, at the table with her. The restaurant was unusually empty too, Amanda noticed. Of course, it was a Monday night and it was early yet.

There was another couple two tables down that appeared to be sickeningly involved with each other. He kept leaning into her every word and the woman kept adjusting her blouse to show the right amount of cleavage.

Across the way was a group of what looked like business men chattering away and sharing a bunch of appetizers. It looked like some kind of pre-party and Amanda guessed whatever it was they were all laughing and congratulating each other over would probably end up with hang overs the next day.

The only interesting thing in the dinning room was a table against the back wall, half hidden by some potted plants and a waist high divider. It looked like a mix group of humans and aliens and seemed very formal. At least from what Amanda could see in the mirror. The table was directly behind her and if it hadn't been for the large over done mirror on the wall she was facing she'd never have noticed them.

Ben laughed particularly loudly into the communicator and Amanda waved at him in half-hearted agreement when he asked if she minded if he took the call outside. Sure. Whatever. It wasn't like she was alone at the table or anything.

She went back to staring into the mirror and watched as the large party behind her broke up. Several men in Star Fleet uniforms were the first to leave, taking the bill with them. Amanda snorted at the expressions on their faces. Whatever it was they'd wanted to accomplish with the meal, it was obvious it hadn't worked. The next to walk out were two well dressed civilians that Amanda vaguely recognized as the local Federation Senator and his husband –she couldn't remember either of their names. They were laughing together, the younger of the two a little red in his face from the wine. That just left the aliens and Amanda perked up as they stood. She'd been in San Francisco long enough she was used to seeing non-humans about, but having grown up in a small Massachusetts town that no one ever visited, it was still a secret thrill to be so close to people so different. Having Star Fleet Headquarters in the city, and the Federation Embassy relocating there, she was sure to see even more. Not nearly as many as she saw when she'd traveled off world with her grandfather, but anything was better than nothing.

Unfortunately, it was just a couple Vulcans and an Antaran. Nothing exciting. Amanda went back to picking at her salad. The other two couples had finished their meal and left while she'd been spying on the back table and Amanda thought she was alone in the dinning room until she felt a shadow fall over her. She looked up and found herself staring at one of the two Vulcans. He was tall with a wide face and the piercing dark eyes of his people. He was younger than Amanda had first thought; how young she couldn't tell. Vulcans were hard to age, with their longer life spans. He wore the diplomatic robes that she knew the Vulcan Embassy staff favored and from all the decoration on it, it was a safe bet he was not junior staff.

"Pardon me," he spoke softly, his voice deep and authoritative despite his words. "But I could not help but notice that your dinner companion seems to have taken his leave." His Standard was ever so slightly accented.

"Temporarily, I'm afraid." Amanda responded with a long suffering sigh. "We're meant to be celebrating, but the others canceled and Ben's…being Ben." She shrugged.

"I see." The Vulcan said, although clearly he did not. "Forgive my presumption, but I only recently arrived on Earth and I am attempting to learn the nuances of your culture. I was under the impression it was impolite to leave a female alone during a dinner one has invited her to." He tipped his head to the side as if contemplating a far greater mystery. "It was one of the few cultural similarities I have noted thus far. Was I in error?"

"No." Amanda laughed. "No, you aren't. My date is just very rude."

"Yet you stay?"

His honest question, spoken without judgment, only curiosity, was what finally spurred her to action. "You know, you're right." Amanda set down her fork with finality and stood. "What am I doing here, waiting around for that jerk?" She pulled out a credit chip and tossed it onto the table and picked up her purse. "Thank you." She smiled at the stranger. "I needed an outside perspective to see exactly how stupid this was."

The Vulcan looked even more confused. "I do not understand."

"Of course you don't, because this entire situation is completely stupid." Amanda replied evenly, moving towards the exit. He trailed behind her and she couldn't help but chuckle at his expression. "You just walked into a rather long standing angst fest, I'm afraid. I've been sitting there all night frustrated beyond belief and doing everything I could not to smack the hell out of my boyfriend - ex-boyfriend as soon as he bothers to get off that damn communicator long enough for me to end it. I realize you had no idea that asking me a simple question would spur me to finally draw a line in the sand, but thank you anyway."

"Should I apologize to him?" The Vulcan asked, his forehead wrinkling in subtle signs of distress.

"Oh hell no!" Amanda laughed. "He's not likely to miss me. I think he just enjoyed saying he had a significant other more than the actual act of having one. Lord knows he never had a clue what to do with me anyway." Amanda shook her head as they reached the sidewalk. Ben was pacing outside, still deep in his conversation and she waved at him. He waved back, no clue what was actually happening, and Amanda turned to head back towards her apartment. The Vulcan stood there, still trying to figure out exactly what had transpired and Amanda took pity on him.

"Look, I know you lot don't shake hands, so please forgive my lack of familiarity with how you introduce yourselves. I'm Amanda Grayson."

"Sarek." He replied, his hand rising into a gesture she vaguely recalled from an old documentary about First Contact.

"Well, Sarek. I'm not hanging around here and you seem to have a few more questions. Have you been to a coffee shop yet?"

"No." His eyebrow raised. "That is a drink?"

"A non-alcoholic one. There's a nice coffee shop just up the street. If you've got more questions on the insane social customs of my species I'd be happy to answer them. I can introduce you to the wonders of coffee and having you there will keep me from making good on any of my homicidal thoughts about that bastard." She gestured over her shoulder.

He looked vaguely uncomfortable. "This is not…"

Amanda realized instantly what he was concerned about and waved a hand dismissively. "No, it's not a date. That would be a pretty fast rebound even for someone as sexually frustrated as I am. No, this is the teacher in me offering to tutor the poor guy that wandered up to my table."

"I am not a 'guy'." Sarek protested but followed her anyway. "You are a teacher?"

"Yes. I've been working for the public school system teaching Galactic Standard. The San Francisco Academy just offered me a job this morning teaching the mixed species class they've started. It's a dream position, honestly."

"I am unaware of the program."

Amanda happily chatted about her new job on the way to the coffee shop and Sarek gave her his full attention. He asked questions and seemed to be generally interested in her and Amanda basked in his honest consideration. It was nice to talk to someone that seemed to actually care what she had to say.

"My son is in that age group." Sarek confessed as they found seats in the back of the coffee shop after placing their orders. Sarek had taken some time check the menu against his safe food list and Amanda had had to explain several of the ingredients to him. "Sybok has been following an independent course of study since joining me here at the Embassy. Such a program that allows for individualized instruction yet communal social interaction would benefit him."

"Well, I don't think there are any other Vulcans in the program, but I'm sure they'd welcome your interest. If you contact the Academy they can fill you in on more of the particulars. I only know what I learned in the job interview. I was told they selected me because of all the time I spent off world as a girl. I had more travel under my belt than any of the other applicants and I was the only one that could speak more than five languages."

Sarek sipped his coffee. "You have been off world? It was my understanding few Earthers traveled unless they were in Star Fleet or settling one of the colony worlds."

"It's getting better." Amanda sighed. "It's expensive to travel without a good reason and right now we have few civilian ships that aren't used for trading or colonization. There just isn't a tourist market yet, at least not beyond our own solar system. My grandfather started one of the first interplanetary shipping companies and whenever I had a break from school he'd take me with him on runs." Amanda smiled fondly as she remembered him. "I loved it. When he died I was in my second year of graduate school. Mom sold our share of the business to my uncle and I'm afraid my traveling days are over. Uncle Will is content to keep to the same tried and true shipping lanes Grandfather locked down and isn't interested in expanding. That was where Grandfather and I had the most fun, you know. Out there on the edges of human expansion – visiting places few if any human had gone." Amanda sighed in remembrance.

Sarek raised an eyebrow. "You are part of the Grayson Shipping Corp.?"

"I was." Amanda smirked. "I take it our reputation precedes us."

"Arthur Grayson managed to negotiate shipping contracts with species even my people had failed to work peaceably with." Sarek looked impressed despite himself. "Several of his early agreements were part of my training when I joined the diplomatic service."

"Which ones?" Amanda leaned forward. "I helped write the Edosians agreement when I was fourteen and we worked for weeks trying to hammer something out with the Bajorans. That was my favorite one. They are so far out we had to travel for months to get there. My mother had a fit when she found out where we were going but grandpa and I were already well outside Federation space by then so there wasn't a thing she could do about it."

Sarek's eyebrow was lost in his hairline. "You helped Arthur Grayson negotiation both the Bajoran and Edosian shipping agreements?"

"It was nothing." Amanda waved it off. "I was pretty young at the time, but grandpa was a total dunce at languages. The universal translator was still in its infancy, which is why he took me with him. I'm a wiz at picking up lingo. Drop me in with a group of native speakers and give me a couple weeks and I'm nearly fluent."

Sarek shook his head. "It is an honor to meet you, T-Grayson."he said in Vulcan.

"The honor is mine." Amanda replied and then blushed. "My accent is terrible, I know. I never had a chance to learn Vulcan from any of your people – only from record tapes. I seem to do much better with real people."

"It is not terrible." Sarek replied, his eyes glittering. "From the sound of it, you were using the entertainment tapes from our Northern region. They have a distinctive accent."

"In my defense it's rather difficult to get a hold of anything else." Amanda replied, switching back to Vulcan and enjoying the gentle twists of it on her tongue. She loved language, in all forms, and it was a special treat to practice one she'd yet to completely master.

Their conversation continued, this time in Vulcan, and Amanda did her best to ignore the stares of the other patrons. Sarek was surprisingly witty and before long she was laughing at what she knew had to have been a joke while the Vulcan in question sat stoically across from her. If it hadn't been for the lightness to his eyes she might have believed him to serious, but there was something about how they reflected the light when he said something particularly funny that made Amanda believe he knew exactly what he was doing. They eventually finished their coffee and Sarek offered to see her home.

Amanda hadn't released it was so late until they'd started down the sidewalk and saw they were the only two people out. Sarek didn't seem to mind the quiet solitude and since the neighborhood wasn't a dangerous one, she didn't either. He asked her all sorts of questions as they walked, most of them little things. What was the meaning of the short fences in the front of the homes they passed – they couldn't keep anything out so why have them? Why did they put fake gas street lamps out – was it aesthetics only? Why did all the Earth Ambassador always smell like mint?

When they finally reached her apartment Amanda was sad to see the evening end. "Thank you, Sarek." She spoke softly, her Vulcan already improving just from the evening spent with him. She looked down and away to hide the flush she felt growing in her cheeks. It hadn't been a date, but she couldn't help but wish it had.

Sarek raised his hand again and Amanda struggled to copy the movement. When she couldn't manage it, he reached out and hesitantly moved her fingers into the proper places. "The gesture is usually accompanied by the phrase dif tor heh smusma, live long and prosper. It is answered with sochya eh dif peace and long life." Sarek hesitated. "I often reverse these. It is a grammatical quirk of the village from which I hail. You may also see those of us in diplomatic service substitute 'we come to serve' and 'your service honors us' if the occasion warrants." Sarek let her hand go slowly. "It is both a greeting and a parting."

Amanda nodded. Sochya eh dif, Sarek." Her voice cracked as she spoke, her heart hammering hard in her chest.

"Dif tor heh smusma, Amanda." He answered, his eyes alight with a strange intensity.