Holography 3

As a Reminder and a Promise

by

Pat Foley

Chapter 4

When Sarek woke the next morning, the first thing that came to him, beyond the utter joy of feeling her against him, was the sensuous feel of the velvet against his skin. He didn't wait for her to awaken naturally, but kissed her awake, and before she was even fully awake, had drawn her under him and made love to her. Defiantly human style. At times like these, he didn't care one whit for Vulcan traditions, or Vulcan necessities and he banished, at least for the moment, the specter of Pon Far to some distant, far distant, and irrelevant future.

"Wow," Amanda said, when he had finished both of them, and she was catching her breath. "To what do I owe that, after my fiasco last night?"

"To you." Sarek kissed her again, then drew back reluctantly. "I have meetings today," he half growled, and went to shower and dress.

She laughed. "Maybe we should have taken a real honeymoon." She called to him, and lay back lazily.

He came back from his shower, studying her curiously. "I remind you that you have not married a human. A month of such mornings would not still my passion."

"Lucky me," she sat up. "So you liked my gift?" she flung aside the sheet.

"Very much."

"So do I. I prefer not to see my husband a lime popsicle in the morning." She laughed again as if at some private joke, and shook her head. "I am wicked. Well, I'll put the fleece ones on for tonight. You might like those even better. Seeing as how we were both behaving rather like five year olds at one point last night, fleece is definitely what we need."

"I had no idea humans had developed such a variety of bed coverings," Sarek said, watching her change the sheets. He came over and ran a hand, eyes widening, over the replacement. And looked down at her, her limbs still bare, skin flushed, from his recent attentions. "If I had not meetings, I would not wait for tonight. We still have some …unfinished business in that regard."

"Humans are ingenious." She eyed him. "But I think Vulcans aren't far behind us. I can't wait."

"Indeed." Sarek tore his eyes from her, and lowered them to the sheet under his fingertips. "Which do you prefer, my wife?"

"Which-" For a moment she was flabbergasted and then she connected their two disparate conversations. "Oh, you meant the sheets." she blinked, "At home, I mostly have jacquard."

"This is your home," Sarek said, frowning slightly. "Now."

"I meant," she shook her head. "You know what I meant."

"Yes." He put her disquieting remark down to the imprecision of the language. "What is jacquard?"

"A weaving process, where patterns are woven into a damask-like fabric. Heavy cotton, silk or satin. Floral, geometric, stripe. They're very soft, but you can feel the patterns against your skin."

"Indeed." Sarek considered this, brows rising, intrigued. "Interesting. I would like to try your choice as well. Your first was certainly …warmer. Much warmer."

She turned to him, astonished at his play on words, something he was not known to do. He raised an eyebrow archly.

"You are very wicked, my husband."

"Indeed." He kissed her again, then put her from him reluctantly. "Go shopping. Get one of each."

Her laugh was cut short by a summons at the outer door of their suite. Sarek went to answer it, and Amanda went to shower and dress.

With another shopping trip in mind, and mindful of fact she might need to outrun a few paparazzi, she'd dressed in jeans and sneakers again, was brushing her hair, trying to think of a good way to disguise herself, and thinking with some amusement, the best disguise would be as a Vulcan, when Sarek came back in. He glanced at her, and said, "Amanda, can you come with me? This concerns you."

She followed him, to discover two Federation Security officers out there. They rose when she entered. One appeared brash and direct, complete with military swagger. The other gray and silent, thin and nondescript, had the appearance of a clerk.

After they were introduced, she asked, "What can I do for you gentlemen?"

"I understand you went out of the Embassy compound yesterday."

She stared at him, not mistaking the touch of hostility in his manner. And she thought she understood its cause. She'd discovered very few people were…neutral to what she had done. Some regarded her marriage to Sarek as if it were some sort of ultimate Cinderella story. Those people could at times be tiresome, but were not really a problem. Some regarded her with shock and disdain, as if there were something wrong with her. And some human men regarded her as if her choosing a Vulcan was an affront to all human men, a sort of cultural traitor. She'd developed a kind of radar for these attitudes, and she sensed he was one of those. "I hardly think that is any of your concern."

"Actually, it is. Very much so. We've gone through quite a crush assembling your security detail, but it isn't quite ready yet. We'd appreciate it if you stayed in the compound until it is. And never again pull any of the kind of tricks you did yesterday."

"What do you mean, tricks?" her eyes narrowed.

"Evading Federation Security is a serious matter. We understand you're …young," his eyes roved over her jean clad figure, and gave Sarek a look as if it confirmed him a cradle robber while she bridled, "and this is all very new to you. But believe me, it is best if you cooperate and work with us in the future. Your team has been handpicked, the lead comes highly recommended, pulled off the detail for the Federation president's daughter. But we can't help you if you deliberately circumvent us."

"Now wait just a minute. With all due respect to the President's daughter, you can give her favorite guard back to her. I don't want him."

"Her. Carry Phillips. She's in some final training, but should be here tomorrow afternoon. She's fully qualified, trained in twelve different martial arts-"

"Good for her. I won't be needing them. Or her."

The officer frowned. "I'm afraid I disagree."

"I think you must be confused. I'm not a diplomat. I'm just a teacher."

"And now also the wife of a Federation Ambassador."

She drew up a little. It came to her, to everyone in the room that she hadn't quite looked at herself in that light.

"Surely you must have been aware that would be a benefit of your decision. The attention, the clamor, those are the positives."

"You consider the media frenzy that's surrounded me any sort of benefit? I consider it far rather the reverse."

"If you really don't like it, then you should welcome our assistance. And you will need it for the true negative side of all this, you are also now a target."

"If I needed help with the press, it would have been before I got married, when they were camped out forty deep outside my door. And as for scaring me with words like target, all I can say, is that I've been dealing with all this for months. It is a little late to pop up now and start playing the heavy."

"Technically, we're only responsible for providing security for Federation level dignitaries and their dependents. We have no legal responsibility for …fiancés."

She bristled at that. "Thank heavens for red tape. I managed just fine dealing with the press who hounded me night and day, the calls and messages from sickos who wanted to tie me down and kill me slowly, to make me appreciate the error of my ways-"

Giletti flinched. "If you ever get any more messages like that, you need to let us know."

"It's sweet of you to care," she shot back. "Now. But as I said, a little late." She rose. "I'm sure, being so highly placed in Federation Security, you can find your own way out."

"Amanda."

Sarek had been so quiet, she had forgotten he was there. She started as her put a hand on her shoulder, the other on her wrist, drawing her back down into a chair. Then stood behind her, placing the other hand on her shoulder, and left both of them there, casually and effectively trapping her under his hands. He so rarely touched her in public, his gentle restraint now was as effective as a force field. "I think we should listen to this further."

"Thank you, Ambassador." Giletti drew a deep breath. "I'm afraid this is not negotiable. Federation Security is now responsible for your safety. And you will need to-"

The overbearing manner short-circuited her temper. "Are you not hearing what I am saying? Are we not speaking English?" She looked from Giletti to Sarek. "I'll say it in whatever language I need to. And it's non-negotiable to me too. The answer is no. No overbearing phaser-toting Federation G-man is going to follow me around and tell me what I can and can't do!"

"Look, you can cooperate or you can't, but we are dealing with credible threats, here." Giletti was exasperated. "Credible threats. Your-" he swallowed whatever word he'd almost used, "situation has created a whole new security issue for us, one we've yet to completely evaluate. We're used to dealing with anti-Federation humanists, but not with this new anti-miscegenistic element. And it's taking us a little time to get up to speed. And sneaking out of the compound-"

"Sneaking!"

"My officers will still be responsible for you no matter how you behave. Even if you don't give a damn for your own life, I resent it if your behavior gets one or more of them killed."

She drew a sharp breath. "What do you mean?"

"I said credible threats."

"What sort of threats?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

"It's my life they're threatening and you can't tell me?"

"You don't have the security clearance."

She shook her head, exasperated. "Oh, for - Is this Alice in Wonderland or are we in the real world?"

"Believe me, this is real."

She stared at him, and shook her head. "You expect me, without any evidence, without knowing a thing about you, to let you dictate to me how I'm going to live? That's not my nature."

He looked, just briefly, from her to Sarek. "It would seem that it is."

She rose, shrugging off Sarek's hands on her shoulders, furious. "That's enough. This interview is over."

"Damn it-"

The other security guard suddenly rose. Giletti flushed and abruptly subsided, while the other looked at her straightforwardly. "Dr. Grayson. Forgive my colleague. Please. Sit down."

She had at first taken this silent man for a clerk, a subordinate, but now he'd changed his aura from a cipher to one of command. Now it was the colleague who subsided, flushed and embarrassed, while the other dominated the room, from dark to light, like a flaring star. That he could switch modes so quickly, and so absolutely marked him as an experienced, high level security analyst. An agent. And his attitude was professionally reserved – he might have shared his colleague's disdain of her, but if he did no one would know of it. Perhaps not even himself. A consummate security agent, soldier, spy. She didn't find that reassuring, in fact, she was less comfortable in his presence than in his colleague's, whom she could despise. She was well aware she was out of her element here.

"Amanda."

Sarek's voice. She flinched, having almost forgotten him, glanced from him to the agent, saw he was in agreement on this. A look passed between Sarek and this man, once of meaning, and she realized they were acquainted, indeed in league on this. She found herself letting Sarek draw her back down to her seat, his hands once again firmly on her shoulders. She looked up, feeling suddenly beleaguered. Surrounded on all sides. And she wasn't just out of her element, she was out of her league.

"I don't want a guard." She'd meant to sound firm, and was shocked at how that it came out half plaintive. She looked up at the men standing over her, none of whom she'd known three months before, and now who were all telling her how to live her life. Perhaps Giletti had a point. She shifted slightly under her husband's hands. As if recognizing her unease, Sarek moved to sit beside her, taking her hand. He almost never did that in public. She looked down at her hand in his, looked at him, and then back up, as the other agent almost moved to sit across from her.

"Dr. Grayson. My colleague misspoke. Federation level protection isn't meant to restrict your freedom. Not at all. Merely to ensure your safety."

She swallowed hard and tried to ease her hand out from Sarek's, well aware his culture didn't approve of such in public. He didn't let go. She drew a breath and tried to calm herself, deal with the situation rationally. "Perhaps that's the intent. I suspect the reality is quite different."

Revierre continued. "Certainly, there will be some…new considerations. Concessions. You have been dealing with some of that already, and it's admirable how well you have dealt with it, given you have no training and no experience. And while so far your….efforts…have been largely successful, some of the groups we are dealing with are not amateurs. And I am sure you appreciate – certainly your husband would – that your safety deserves more than your sole amateur efforts. Eventually you will get caught. You were almost caught yesterday, and in a manner that …deeply concerned some of our security staff. You were …fortunate."

Sarek's fingers tightened on hers and he gave her a sharp, accusing look. She flushed.

"To be caught even by the paparazzi press can be a frightening and dangerous experience. Yet bad as that could be for you, we are concerned with far more than that."

She looked down, feeling mulish. "As I said, it's a little late. The press has been after me for months. And for weeks, it has been pretty intense. I've managed." She looked up. "I don't need Federation Security riding in on a white horse now."

"We owe you an apology for our late response to your situation. It hasn't come up before, and unfortunately we answer to a bureaucracy, and that can be slow to respond to new circumstances. However, we now have appropriate measures ready to implement. And as a dependent to a Federation Ambassador you now do come under our jurisdiction."

"I'm not a dependent."

"I apologize if you find the wording offensive. Anything but the principle," he glanced at Sarek, "is categorized as such. Regardless of the wording, as the spouse of a Federation level ambassador, you are covered by such protection, whenever you are not on your home world, or on assignment."

"I am on my home world."

"In this case, that means Vulcan."

She flushed at that, so taken aback she almost missed his next words.

"Your security detail is required to protect you, regardless of the choices you make."

"You're saying you have to protect me, even if I tell you that I don't want that protection?"

"Yes."

She stared at him in disbelief. "I'm still a Federation citizen. Don't I have any civil rights in this?"

"Your civil rights aren't being violated by having Federation protection. It isn't meant to compromise your freedom.."

"As far as I'm concerned, it does."

"Your protection detail isn't meant to prevent you from living your normal life."

"What kind of a normal life can I live, surrounded by guards?"

"What kind of a normal life are you living now?" He asked, and when she drew up at that, he said, "Tagged by fifty, a hundred, paparazzi? Even though those are the least of our concerns, you will need help having any freedom of movement now. They are on to your tricks. They've staked out all the entrances to the embassy, and at least for now, they aren't going away."

Amanda took back her hand from Sarek, lowering her head.

"Dr. Grayson. Your detail will deal with the paparazzi. You don't need to worry about that any longer. And in general, you won't find your movements too constrained by the necessities of Federation level protection. However, we are professionals," he glanced briefly at his associate, "most of us, and there are times when we will… make recommendations that we strongly urge you to take into consideration. Such as when we receive credible threats. I can assure you, Dr. Grayson, that this is one of those times." He hesitated, watching her struggle with this unwelcome news. "Probably as you say, one of those rare times. Right now you are in the media's eye, and such attention attracts all types of notice, some unwelcome. But you're well aware that the media's attention – and probably these other unwelcome interests – probably will move on. Consider taking a little precaution now, knowing that it hopefully won't be required at this level in the future." He studied her a moment. "I'm afraid if you choose to disregard those recommendations, we're required to protect you regardless."

"You mean I can't say no?"

"You can, certainly. But it will just make our jobs more difficult. You will get the protection, regardless."

"Oh," Amanda closed her eyes a moment, daunted by the prospect. How had her love, her marriage, come to this – being shadowed by guards where ever she went.

"Amanda?"

She looked up at Sarek and saw concern in his eyes. She'd forgotten he could sense something of what she was feeling through the bond, particularly when he'd had her hand in his. Not even her thoughts were her own anymore. She lowered her gaze, unhappy and resentful, and not willing to go into this with him before these guards. She looked over at them. "I need some time to consider this."

"Of course." Revierre rose. "However, I would request," he stressed the last word, "that if you intend to leave the compound today, you obtain an escort." He held up a hand as she drew a sharp breath. "I assure you the inconvenience will be slight." Seeing her subside, he added, "And tomorrow, if you would allow it, we could introduce you to your team. Once you've met them -"

"Whoa." She put up a hand. "I never said-"

"I'm sure you wouldn't want to make a final decision without having all the facts."

"You are railroading me."

"I don't think anyone could do that." He glanced at Sarek, and then back to her. "As you say, you need time to consider." He rose. "A great pleasure meeting you, Dr. Grayson. Ambassador, I'll see you this afternoon to go over those reports." They walked out of the room together.

"What reports?" she asked, when Sarek returned.

"My wife?"

"What reports is he going to go over with you?"

"Amanda-"

"Is it something about me? What do you know that you are not telling me?"

"Amanda, you do not, yet, have the security clearance for what you are asking."

She sighed. "This is a nightmare." She looked at him. "Did you know about this?"

"Until this morning? No. But I have found Revierre to be a thoughtful and intelligent associate and am willing to accept his assessment."

"What about his friend?"

"Him I have not met before. Nor do I much care to continue the acquaintance. He seems ineffective at his position as well. Perhaps I shall have him removed." He considered it briefly, then flicked an eyebrow. "Yes, I see I must arrange it. His behavior and attitude appear at odds with the importance of his position."

She glanced up at that, startled. Sarek looked thoughtful, he didn't seem to find his statement amiss as she did.

"The importance of his position?"

He looked down at her, and though his look was calm, even affectionate there was something in his gaze that chilled her. "Guarding you."

"I don't need to be guarded, Sarek."

"Apparently, there are violent factions on your world that make that necessary, my wife. I am sure every effort will be made to lessen the onerous nature of the requirement. But guarded you shall be."

She drew a breath at that. Her husband was so kind and gentle, in general, that she always found the casual authority he could and did summon to be something of a shock. She eyed him, newly reminded of it. And him. "I didn't mean to leave you out of the decision in there, to ignore you. Their attitude just," she swallowed the words she would have chosen, "upset me. But I'm not willing to be left out of this decision either."

"Giletti's arguments were poorly and insultingly put. However, the situation does seem to require an appropriate response."

She looked at him, her heart sinking. "I don't need this. I can be careful. I will be careful. I promise."

"Indeed you shall."

"That's not what I meant." Her brows knitted together. "Look, I thought you told me you weren't going to dictate how I behaved on Earth."

He raised an eyebrow, looking at her. "We were then discussing behavior. Not safety."

"I don't think it's fair you suddenly putting conditions on that statement after the fact."

He merely looked amused. "Do you consider that statement a treaty of sorts?"

"Well, who better to have one with?"

Sarek considered her a moment. "I will review the relevant reports, and let you know of my conclusions."

"What about my conclusions? Don't I have a say in this?"

"In this case, a limited one."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"As some of the information is classified, you will not have the relevant facts on which to base an appropriate conclusion."

"But that's not fair!"

"Perhaps not, but it seems unavoidable at the moment. Amanda, no one is saying that your freedom will be restricted. You will merely have attendant security."

"To me that is a restriction."

"You will have to get used to it."

She looked mulish. "I'm not sure I can."

"You will have practice, then, to learn such acceptance."

She stared at him, and he looked back, no compromise in his manner. It was her first experience on the receiving end of the indomitable will she knew her husband possessed. He might as well have given her an order. It certainly felt like one. Part of her told herself she should fight this battle now, or she'd set an uncomfortable precedent. She'd agreed to his right to make certain…inviolate…demands in their marriage, but this wasn't one of them. She shouldn't let him think he could order her about whenever he chose.

But part of her shied away from the thought of their first real argument. Fight. She was strong-willed, stubborn, perhaps, but she didn't think of herself as contentious. She hated the very idea of a big row, so soon into their marriage. And certainly none of this was Sarek's fault. It was her own people, humans, who were creating this problem for her, not Sarek. She pushed the thought of a fight away as too painful. If she was setting an uncomfortable precedent, so be it. "Maybe, when you review the reports, they won't be so bad."

He raised an eyebrow, then hesitated and said, "I doubt that irrelevant concerns will be brought to my attention, but I suppose there is some slight chance of that."

She sighed. At least nothing had been decided yet. "He was right about one thing. I wasn't really thinking any of this would apply to me. I mean, the press, yes, and the attendant crazies, but not," she looked puzzled. "Not the political ramifications. I mean," she looked at Sarek, for confirmation from him at least of this truth, "I'm not a diplomat. What can any of this have to do with me?"

"You are my wife."

"Mmm." She thought about that, unhappily. "I suppose I am tarred with the same vile brush. No don't ask, it's an old colloquialism. I have to stop using those around you. I confess it never occurred to me that marrying a diplomat would make me part of the club. That it would have political ramifications for me. I suppose that was," she shook her head, "singularly stupid of me. Particularly of me." She looked up at him. "They say doctors make the worst patients. And I am not thrilled at the notion that my personal life is going to start having political and …social…overtones."

Sarek frowned. "Amanda, this issue of security is a minor one. Provided the agents do their jobs, it should merely be an annoyance. Not a serious constraint."

"It doesn't seem minor to me. You're used to living with security. I'm not. Nor does the rest of it." She sighed. "I certainly wasn't expecting it."

He merely looked at her. "I share your belief in one respect, Amanda. It is, as you say, a little late to impose conditions."

Amanda colored. "I not saying I regret our marriage. I'm just frustrated with myself for not thinking of all the ramifications. When we married we concentrated so much on the personal issues, we, or maybe I, never considered there would be others. As I said, singularly stupid, particularly of me. I'm just not used to considering myself in the equation. Being so …close…to the situation requires a certain change in perspective."

Sarek studied her a moment, non-plussed. "I find myself somewhat…disquieted, Amanda, that you would have such a violent emotional reaction to such a minor consideration."

"You think this is a violent emotional reaction? Sarek, you've seen me in a temper."

"Indeed. I am not referring to external expressions of temper. I refer to your internal distress."

She colored again. Through the marriage bond, he was now more aware of her emotions, could sense at least something of what she was feeling. It was a violation of privacy that she also hadn't quite gotten used to. Was not sure she ever would. Frankly the healers who'd instructed her on Vulcan marriage had emphasized so much the physical requirements of marriage to a Vulcan, Pon Far and everything that went with it, they'd overlooked what to a human was even more daunting, the telepathic and emotional bond. Perhaps they assumed being relatively psi-null compared to a Vulcan, it would not matter to her. Or perhaps they thought humans were so blatant in their emotions and expressions that they had no privacy to violate. She could have told them far otherwise.

Sarek had told her he wasn't a very strong telepath, by Vulcan standards, and the few mind touches they'd tried before their marriage hadn't seemed so daunting. It wasn't the aspect of telepathy that bothered her, the kind that was clear and definite, that started with his hands on her and ended with when he took them off her. It was that now, he didn't have to touch her. That after their bonding, there was no clear cut boundary between them anymore. Merely by concentrating he could get, not actual thoughts, per se, that seemed to require touch, but her emotions, and some gist of her thoughts.

Sarek spoke of it easily to her, after they were bonded, as if it were nothing special and she tried not to dwell on it. Losing even that privacy of mind, losing control over that aspect of herself was not something she was sanguine about. But Sarek didn't dwell on it either. It wasn't as if she heard his voice in her head all the time, felt possessed or anything of the sort. Sarek had long ago told her that Vulcans revered privacy, that even between bondmates, privacy was not to be violated. That had eased some of her fears about the bond. But that also meant she had to keep her own barriers up to ensure her privacy, and she wasn't facile at such shielding yet. Though she'd been assured it would soon be reflexive and she'd learn to lower her barriers only at will. Sarek's occasional …perceptions of her emotions and her thoughts were relatively rare occurrences, ones she chose not to call him on. If Sarek noted she had any unease at that, he gave no sign. They were still so tentative with each other in many areas. Both of them knew they had so much to learn in this marriage.

Proving he sensed something of what she was thinking, Sarek continued, "Amanda, there will be…many issues in our marriage that will require some compromise. Including unequal compromise. It is not something of which you were unaware and I am …disheartened that a point of contention has arisen so soon."

"It's the idea of guards that bothers me, not compromising."

"We are compromising about guards."

"I didn't think we were compromising at all."

A ghost of a smile touched Sarek's mouth. "Do you think me a tyrant, to impose my will arbitrarily?"

Her eyes narrowed, a little upset by his tacit betrayal. "I thought you and your Federation security pals were getting very chummy there."

"Chummy?"

"Giving each other the secret handshake. Ready to take a house by the sea together."

He fought harder to control that hint of a smile, and only partially succeeded. Shaking his head slightly in amusement. "I believe I am beginning to understand some of your colloquialisms. I am relieved you find some humor in the situation. Your conclusions, however, are inaccurate. As I think you do know. I am not in league with them against you. Further, this issue and the relevant security requirements should only be a temporary situation, while are on Terra. It should quickly pass." Then he flicked an eyebrow. "However, we will not always be on Terra. And elsewhere, there may be other issues you will have to deal with."

"I realize that." She was still coming to terms with it, with committing herself, not just to marriage, but to life on a world she had never seen, and within a society she did not know. A life of perhaps more unequal compromises, however couched they were for her own good. There were times she almost understood the incredulity with which people like Giletti regarded her. She looked up at Sarek, seeing him not as Sarek but as a Vulcan, an alien. It was harder and harder to cast aside the veil of her familiar husband to see that he was also that, too. And one who had no qualms about issuing orders, even politely couched. And all that could be …daunting. She drew an unhappy breath. "As long as I'm not the sole person making the compromises and dealing with the issues."

"Do you believe I am sanguine that my attentions to you have antagonized those on your world to the extent that they threaten your life?"

She lowered her eyes. "No." She admitted that probably frightened him more than it did her – being Vulcan he was less used to violent crazies.

"Apart from my regard for you, your life is as important to me as my own. You are my bondmate. Our lives are now …inextricably tied."

She looked up at him. "Sarek, if something …happened to me, you'd be all right. Wouldn't you?"

"It is possible to survive a bondmate's death. Not always. And sometimes hardly desirable."

She drew a breath at that. "I didn't know that. Sarek -"

He reached out and touched her face with his hand, tracing her cheekbone, palm warm against her cheek, before drawing it away. "There is much for you to learn."

"I'm beginning to fully appreciate that." She had yet to even begin to understand him, and she wondered at his choice, to caress her cheek now. He rarely touched her during the day, outside of the two fingered touch. Or holding her hand – unVulcan as it was, she'd found it hard not to take his hand or arm at times, and he allowed it. Though she felt his surprise when she did so, and she tried to curb that impulse. It wasn't so much that he resisted her touching him, as he seemed to hold himself in check against touching her, except in private. It wasn't that he didn't want to, it was that he didn't let himself. She was still trying to reconcile the two Sareks in her mind, the formal Sarek of the day who kept to Vulcan conventions, and the Sarek of their private quarters who couldn't keep his hands off her. Both were Sarek, and both seemed a contradiction in terms, if you didn't understand them. And she knew so little of him, or he of her. If she were Vulcan, and had just tied her life, as she understood Sarek had tied his, to a quixotically emotional human female, she'd be terrified. Knowing his biology, she was still amazed at the level of trust he had in her, to so willingly put his very life in her hands.

He dropped his hand. "Now however, is not the time. I still have meetings. Amanda…you will heed the directives of Federation security detail? I do not say you cannot leave the compound. But you will take the protection they offer." It was and was not a question. It was and was not a demand. He looked at her expectantly.

Trust was the coin they had to pay in, both of them, for this marriage to succeed. For a last moment she resisted the tacit demand in his voice, his tone, his manner, his eyes that expected her acquiescence. And then she lowered her gaze, uncomfortable still, but slowly nodded.

For a moment he regarded her, non-plussed. Then he reached out, and briefly caressed her cheek. "Yes means yes, Amanda."

She looked up, astonished. He slid fingers under her chin, raising her face a little more, his eyes meeting hers. Not expectation in his eyes, but a demand. "Yes …means yes."

There was nothing tacit about that demand.

"I agreed, didn't I?"

Sarek frowned, not at her, but in frustration. "You have not said so." He shook his head a little, "English is a most imprecise language. It has no emphatic mode. Amanda. This is important to me. I would think to you as well. Therefore, I would hear you say it."

"All right then. Yes. I agree." She eyed him, a trifle resentfully. "Happy now?"

"I am pleased." He seemed completely sanguine, not at all put out by her resentment.

Alarmed that he might take this as an unconditional surrender, she shook her head, sliding free of his possessive hand. "I agreed, for today only. Then I want to discuss it further. After you've reviewed the reports. And…" she sighed and relented, "After I meet the agents."

He seemed merely amused at her conditions. "Logical, my wife. But given that this may not happen entirely in a day, you will agree to protection until such a discussion and decision has been reached to our mutual agreement."

She looked at him. He waited for her reply, confident that she'd accept these new conditions, as if he'd never had any doubts she would acquiesce.

It struck her anew, standing across from her very Vulcan husband, that now she was a Vulcan citizen herself. On an Earth which even her unwanted Federation security guards no longer considered her home planet.

Only a few weeks ago, she'd been single, had never met a Vulcan, never known one. And now she was one half of an unlikely alliance that had infuriated enough humans that they were willing to kill her for her daring to marry outside of her species. She not only had the Vulcan husband, she had the Federation security guards to prove it.

And a virtual command from her husband that she agree to that protection, until he agreed otherwise. "You're saying I have to do this until you agree that I don't."

"Do you think I would continue this, past need?"

"You tell me. I'm not sure my definition and your definition are going to be entirely in synch here. And I have a feeling I'm not going to come out ahead."

He merely looked at her, brows raised in innocent astonishment. "A feeling, my wife?"

"Oh," She debated whether to argue with him about this, and then suddenly tired of a disagreement she hadn't even started. That was making her feel shrewish and unreasonable, in the face of his apparent innocent concern. Not that she didn't have her suspicions about that. She wasn't entirely psi-null. Most humans weren't. And a bond worked two ways. He certainly didn't like the idea of her being the focus of animosity, and he didn't much care for Federation Security, but there was something about this whole issue of her being guarded she felt he was relieved about. And in no hurry to see end. But looking at his innocent countenance, she felt suddenly unsure again. Who was she kidding, trying to pierce through her husband's shields. She didn't know anything, for sure, she was totally out of her depth in all of this. And as much as she resisted the necessity, she acceded to that fact, however unpleasant. "All right. I'll do it. Yes." She emphasized the word he'd previously demanded. "I give in. Capitulate. Throw in the towel. You win this one. Unconditionally. Whatever you and they want. I'll do it."

"This is hardly something I want, my wife."

"Oh, don't tell me you don't approve. You know you do. I know you do. If you hadn't, you would have chucked that pair right out of here before even calling me."

Sarek just looked at her, neither confirming nor denying it. She wondered at his ability to help her make his choices – the decisions he wanted her to make, the choices for her that favored his own views - seemingly without saying a word to her. He was getting frighteningly good at that. And she found it a little daunting that he never argued with her, that as a diplomat, whose sole tool was words, he never wore her down with them. He could just look at her and somehow, uncannily, his unspoken arguments overcame hers, and she'd fold. And he was right about one thing. It was hard to argue with someone who didn't argue back.

"Some day you'll have to tell me how you manage that."

"My wife?"

"Get me to agree with you without saying a word."

Sarek half smiled as if she amused him. "I am doing nothing my wife, but giving you time to reach your own logical conclusions."

"Uh-huh," she said, unconvinced. "Just one thing."

"Yes?" Teasing her in turn with the very word he'd demanded from her. She could tell it from his arch tone, from the expression, however faint on his face. She would have smiled, but she was in no mood, no temper, for humor

"Please tell me that at least there are no guards on Vulcan."

Sarek drew a breath at that, hesitated. Then, unknown to her at the time, he settled for the emphatic rather than the literal truth. "My wife, such hostilities as you are experiencing here are entirely unknown on my world. Vulcan has been at peace for 5000 years."

She sighed in relief. "I guess that's something."

To be continued...