Amanda smoothed out the blanket and fluffed the pillows, eyeing the new bedding speculatively before shaking her head ruefully. These touches would go completely unnoticed by her husband, and shortly after he got home would be a jumbled mess anyway. She checked the nightstand to ensure it was well stocked then moved downstairs to begin prepping some cheeses and fruits that could easily and quickly be eaten when time allowed.

She jumped as the chime of their front door indicated and unexpected visitor. Frowning, Amanda wiped her hands on a small towel then moved quickly toward the door wondering who could have come all the way to their small home, located well outside the city limits, during the hottest part of the day. She cracked open the large stone door. "T'nar pak sorat y'rani," she greeted warily.

"We seek water for our thirst, and shelter from the heat," Spock answered just as formally, then added, "and perhaps some iced cream, if you have any."

"What?" Amanda opened the door further, her attempts to remain stoic in the face of her husband's people forgotten as she took in the sight of her son and two of his coworkers. "Spock!" She rushed out and threw her arms around him, hugging him tight.

Spock gently patted her back, not quite returning the hug, but acknowledging her affection nonetheless.

"I had no idea- What are you doing here?" she gushed, looking him over and acknowledging his guests with a nod.

"An unexpected stop for some repairs," Spock explained. "We won't be here long, just the night, but I thought we could have end meal with you and Sarek."

Amanda's preparations ran through her mind. "Oh…"

"If you have plans…" Spock glanced at his friends apologetically.

"No…no, no. End meal would be perfect." She stepped back and gestured into the house. "Look at me, keeping you out in this heat. Please, gentlemen."

Amanda slid the casserole in the oven, then began chopping vegetables for a salad. Caught up in her chores, she startled when a pair of strong arms encircled her waist and she was pulled tight against the hard surface of her husband.

"J'aitlu du, k'diwa," Sarek muttered as he nuzzled against her neck. "J'yontau!" His hands slid up to cup her breasts.

"I know you do, dear. But you made it through a whole day of meetings-"

"Insufferable," he complained, pulling her earlobe between his lips.

"But you did it," she reminded him. "So waiting a little longer-"

"J'klee'kah," he refused, holding her against him while he began steering her out of the kitchen.

"No, Sarek, I just put dinner in-"

"Very well," he uttered, spinning her to face him then lifting her to lay her upon the dining room table. He quickly covered her with his body, ignoring her attempt to move away.

"Spock-"

Sarek covered her mouth with his, kissing her passionately. "Yes, Spock," he murmured to her lovingly. "Quite likely conceived on this very spot," he reminded her.

"Knowledge I could have lived without," Spock mumbled from the door leading in from the gardens, where he had been giving his friends a tour.

Sarek shot up, one hand resting protectively upon Amanda's abdomen while he went into a defensive stance. He stared at their guests uncomprehendingly. "Amanda?"

Amanda took his hand off her stomach and held it between hers and gently sat up. "I was trying to tell you, Sarek, Spock is here."

Sarek pulled his hand from hers, folding them tightly against his waist. He glared at his wife. "A word, my wife." He strode into the kitchen.

Amanda slid off the table and tried to smooth out her clothes. "Please make yourselves at home," she murmured as she followed her husband.

Sarek turned toward her the moment the kitchen door closed. "What have you done, Amanda?"

"Me? I didn't do anything!"

Sarek shook his head. "This cannot be. Not now," he turned away from her then quickly turned back. "Now, Amanda? Now?"

"I didn't invite them," she hissed quietly. "I was as surprised as you are."

"I cannot do this!" he hissed back.

"Stop it!" She moved past him and checked on the casserole. "You're hardly freshly Awakened, Sarek. You can manage some control."

"No Vulcan can!"

"Of course you can," she snapped at him. "You've been doing it all day, and you can manage a few more hours." She finished chopping the vegetables. "They're only staying for dinner. We'll sit, have some food, converse, and before you know it they'll be gone and we can…take care of things."

"You do not know! Humans have no understanding for what it is like-"

"Don't you give me that," she warned him, pointing with the knife in her hand. "Don't you dare."

Sarek's hands curled into tight fists. "You would humiliate me?"

Amanda placed the salad into the cooling unit then leaned up against the counter. "I would never."

Sarek relaxed his hands and slid them around her waist. "Please, k'diwa." He pressed light kisses against her cheek and neck. "I have need of thee."

"Soon," she promised, running her hands up his arms and across his shoulders.

"Immediate need," he insisted.

She laughed softly. "Oh, love..." She framed his face between her hands. "Dinner is almost done. I'm going to run upstairs to change. Why don't you take a few minutes to meditate?"

She moved away from him, gently removing his hands from her.

"Amanda…"

"It'll be okay," she promised him, then left the room.

Sarek took a few deep breaths then exited his kitchen. He paused in the dining area, noting his son and his companions were seated at the table now, studiously looking at its surface. He moved toward the living area, through which his meditation chamber lay, when a glance at the stairway revealed his wife's retreating form gliding away toward the sleeping areas. Without pause he changed direction, following her.

Amanda was just pulling her clean gown up over her shoulders when she heard her bedroom door open. "I thought you were going to mediate?" she asked, abandoning her attempts to fasten the gown's back to address her hair and makeup.

"I cannot…My concentration…"

She glanced at him in the mirror with sympathy. "I really am sorry, Sarek. You know I would never have planned anything at this time, but what could I say?"

"I…understand, Amanda." He moved to his closet and pulled out a tunic and pants more appropriate for a casual dinner. He removed his outer robe and work tunic, tossing them into the hamper for laundering. He hesitated when his wife approached him, pressing her lips against his cheek.

"I'll make it up to you," she promised, then turned her back toward him. "Fasten this for me, please?"

Sarek began fastening the gown's closure, noting the softness of her skin against his knuckles as he did so. Abandoning his task, Sarek splayed his palms against her back, pushing the gown off her shoulders.

Amanda clasped the gown to her chest, keeping her breasts covered. "Sarek, no…" She moved away, turning toward him.

"We are alone," he pointed out, pulling her against him.

"We are not!" She tried to pull away, but he held her tight. "Spock and his friends are downstairs waiting for us."

"I will not take long," he promised, his eyes alight with amusement.

"As…fulfilling as that sounds," she joked, "no."

He moved them toward the bed. "Just lay with me a moment, that is all I ask," he cajoled.

Now she laughed loudly. "And they say Vulcans can't lie."

He pressed her down until she lay on their bed and moved over her, pressing his pelvis against her suggestively.

"Yes, I feel it," she sighed patiently. "Alright, Sarek, just let me take this gown off so it doesn't wrinkle-"

Sarek grabbed the fabric at her bosom in both hands and pulled, tearing the fabric in two. Her cry of outrage was swallowed as he descended upon her.

Sarek rolled to the side, relieving his wife of his weight. He sighed contentedly, finally feeling freed of the pressure that had been building all day.

Amanda sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "We still have people waiting for us downstairs," she reminded him shortly.

Sarek glanced at her sharply, noting her tone. "I remember," he said quietly, sitting up on his side of the bed.

Amanda went into the adjoining bathroom to freshen up. She came back into the bedroom, noting her husband had yet to dress. "Please hurry," she urged him, picking her dress from the floor. "Damn it," she said crossly, eyeing the damage. "I loved this dress."

Sarek eyed the fabric with dismay. "That is unfortunate," he commiserated.

"Unfortunate?" she glared at him. "A run in one's pantyhose is unfortunate. Snagging a robe on a thorny branch is unfortunate. This," she held the dress up for him to see. "This was deliberate." She tossed the gown onto the bed and moved to her closet to find something to wear.

Sarek stood up, watching her. "I would not say deliberate."

Amanda slipped a simpler gown over her head and smoothed it out. "I need to see if our dinner is burnt."

Sarek grabbed her arm as she passed, turning her toward him. "I apologize for my behavior at this time, my wife."

Amanda sighed. "It's fine, Sarek. It's just…it was my favorite dress."

"I will buy you another," he promised.

She smiled. "Thank you."

"Are you still cross?"

Amanda shook her head. "I'm not really mad, Sarek. I think…sometimes what you're experiencing affects me too."

Sarek nodded.

"Do you think you can get through dinner now?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then go get ready while I see to our guests."

"I shall," he promised turning away to do just that.

Amanda swatted his naked bottom. "Step lively, Ambassador!" She dashed from their room, laughing at the rare look of surprise on her husband's face.

Amanda quickly descended the stairs, noting her son no longer sat with his friends. "Do you have everything you need, gentlemen?"

"Yes Ma'am," McCoy dutifully replied.

"Spock's in the kitchen," Kirk offered helpfully.

Amanda smiled as she moved past them and entered her kitchen. Spock was just taking the casserole out of the oven when she walked in.

"Why are you not at the marriage house?" Spock asked sternly.

Amanda paused. "Don't take that tone with me," she snapped back, opening cupboards to take out supplies to set the table.

"I'm not," Spock said softly. "You should not be here if he is… We should not be here."

Amanda sighed. "We haven't gone to the marriage house since you left home." Spock looked aghast. "Really, Spock, there's no reason for us to. We live here alone now."

"With no attendants to provide…no help if something happens?"

"Nothing is going to happen," she said patiently. She turned toward him, leaning her hip against the counter and crossing her arms. "Really, Spock…your father is older now, we've been married a long time…it's different."

Spock placed a serving spoon into the casserole and picked up the dish. "It did not look so different."

Amanda laughed as she placed the salad atop the pile of flatware and utensils and followed Spock from the room.

The human men stood up as they entered.

"Please, sit," Amanda suggested. "We've got this."

"Actually, Mrs. Sarek, while we appreciate all the effort you put into this dinner, we thought it might be better if we left now."

Amanda frowned at Jim Kirk. "Leave? Why would you want to leave now?"

"It's just…we figure you an' Sarek would rather be alone."

Amanda stiffened at the doctor's suggestive tone. She set her burden on the table. "Why would you think that?" She noticed the look they cast toward Spock, and when she followed it her son could not meet her gaze. "I see," she murmured, feeling a blush crawl over her. She began to set out the dishware. "Then if you know that, then you should know you can't leave."

"We can't?" Kirk asked, flummoxed.

"No, Captain," Amanda insisted. "He would be humiliated!"

"But I thought…you know...seclusion is generally preferred for this."

"Of course it is, Doctor! What Vulcan would want people to witness their loss of control?"

"Then I'm confused, Ma'am."

Amanda sighed. "Whenever possible, a Vulcan tries to seclude themselves whenever their control is imperfect. Not just at this time, but for any reason. However, you're already here, and he knows you're here, and he knows that you know that he knows you're here." Amanda shrugged at their confusion. "If you leave now he'll know it was because he made you feel unwelcomed, that his control was imperfect."

"She makes a valid point," Spock admitted.

"Then…what should we do?" Kirk asked.

"We do what the Vulcans do," she said simply.

"Which is?"

Amanda glanced toward the stairway upon hearing her bedroom door open and close. "We pretend everything is normal." She finished passing out the place settings then took her seat, gesturing for the others to do the same.

Sarek slowed his pace as he neared the bottom of the stairway, watching everyone carefully. Seeing nothing amiss, he took a deep breath and crossed the room to sit beside his wife. "Captain Kirk, Doctor," he held his hand up in the Vulcan salute. "Welcome to our home."

"Thank you, Sir." Kirk waited as the Ambassador moved his seat closer to his wife's, nearly eliminating all space between them, and took his seat. "You know, I've never really been outside of the city much. Just stuck to the tourist areas, but it's really beautiful out here."

Sarek stared at him a moment. "I built this home for my wife," he declared forcefully.

"It's a beautiful home, Ambassador," McCoy placated.

Sarek glanced toward his wife. "She is a good wife."

"I'm a lucky wife," Amanda soothed. "Please, everyone, let's eat."

Sarek took the plate before Amanda and filled it with salad and casserole then set it before her. He then filled her cup with some warm tea from a carafe Spock had filled earlier, then filled his own cup, and resumed his seat. He casually sipped his drink while everyone else ate.

"This is delicious, Mrs. Sarek," McCoy enthused as he dug into his second serving.

"Thank you, Doctor McCoy."

A huff of air escaped Sarek, causing everyone to look toward him. "Mrs. Sarek," he muttered with a shake of his head as he lifted his cup to his lips for another sip.

Amanda smiled shyly at the humans present. "Just a human naming practice, Sarek," she muttered quietly. "You know that."

Sarek glanced at his wife, the corners of his lip lifting ever so slightly in a look of amusement. "I know that, Amanda, but if you were a Vulcan woman they would not call you Mrs. Sarek, human custom or not. They would call you by your given name. And, the fact remains, even by human naming practices Mrs. Sarek is incorrect, it would be Mrs. S'chn T'gia."

"No one can pronounce that," she reminded him.

"Regardless, calling you Mrs. Sarek is akin to calling you…Mrs. Jim," he gestured toward the captain to emphasize his point.

"I do not think we need to be particular about this," Spock suggested.

"I apologize, Ambassador," McCoy looked from him to his wife. "This food is delicious, Amanda." He grinned at her, then looked back toward Sarek expecting approval for correcting his usage. Instead the Vulcan was glaring at him.

"Based on Terran naming practices a male referring to a female by her given name implies a certain…intimacy. A relationship of sorts."

"I wasn't implying-"

"I call her Amanda," he reminded the doctor. "She is my wife." He held his paired fingers out toward his wife, which she dutifully reciprocated.

McCoy clamped his mouth shut as Sarek studied the table, lost in thought. Suddenly the Vulcan glared at him again. "You will call her Mrs. Sarek," he decreed.

"Mmm'kay," McCoy mumbled.

"Who wants dessert?" Amanda jumped from her seat and scooted into the kitchen.

When she returned Spock had his father engrossed in a conversation about the latest computer operating systems that had been released.

"Here we go," she announced, placing a dish before her son. "Iced cream," she teased, knowing he continues to pronounce it the way Sarek always has.

She set one before her husband, even though he was unlikely to eat it during his Time, and took her seat. She dug into her treat eagerly.

"So this is…Vulcan…ice cream?" Kirk asked, poking at his dessert.

Amanda laughed.

"Vulcans do not make frozen dairy treats," Sarek stated.

"Or any treats that hold little to no nutritional value," Spock chimed in, enjoying his rare indulgence.

"This is real ice cream, gentlemen, shipped all the way from Earth." She took another spoonful and glanced toward her husband. "My husband spoils me."

Sarek held out his paired fingers once more, which his wife eagerly joined. They remained this way the remainder of the meal.

Sarek sat alone at the table, listening while his wife walked their guests to the door and bid their son farewell.

Amanda came into the room and slid her arms around her husband's neck, kissing his cheek.

"They are gone?" he asked quietly.

"Um-hum," she muttered, massaging his shoulders.

"Then we are alone?" he asked hopefully.

"We are."

Sarek sighed fretfully. "Did I…did dinner go well, Amanda?"

Amanda grabbed his hand and pulled; he stood up to face her. "You were perfect, my husband."

The worry creases around his eyes relaxed.

"Now, come on." She began to lead him toward the stairway. "I believe I have a promise to keep."

"You were not specific on what "making it up to me" would entail."

Amanda grinned, then stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. An olive flush infused his cheeks, then he scooped her into his arms and bounded up the stairs.

THE END