Chapter 12: Gratitude and Guilt
Sarek placed his call to Vulcan and obtained the information he required. By the time he had done that and finished up several reports that were due it was time for the evening meal.
During his absence T'Shan had shown Amanda to her room and given her a Vulcan gown to wear while her clothes were drying. He found it both odd and pleasing to see her wear such different attire; she usually wore button-down blouses and pants or knee-length skirts to work. The full-length pale-blue gown that somehow managed to be modest even while clinging to her every curve made her look...mesmerizing.
A Vulcan should not be mesmerized. But how could he not be when her hair fell down around her shoulders, framing her lovely face, and the gown accentuated her physical features?
Dinner was pleasant; Amanda was an excellent conversationalist and always seemed able to find something to discuss. It was one of the traits he admired greatly about her- he himself was not very adept at "small talk". It was soothing to eat while listening to her voice.
It was amazing that she was able to pretend she was not in jeopardy. There were small signs that she had not completely forgotten it, however. Since becoming acquainted with her he'd learned to pay attention to the small details of human facial expressions and body language. He still did not understand many of them, but he was learning.
Such as now; even while talking animatedly about a class of hers, her hands were clenched on the table, knuckles white. They were usually relaxed, her long fingers curving gracefully. She sat up straighter in her chair than was normal, her back stiff. These appeared to be signs of distress.
He watched her mouth as she spoke...her lips had a pleasing shape to them. And they were so soft...much softer than he had ever imagined. Not that he had imagined...
Sarek found that he wished to experiment with this "kissing" more. The physiological response to this form of stimuli was fascinating. When they kissed earlier it had triggered a series of chemical reactions within him- most significantly the release of endorphins. He wished to see if different intensities of such contact produced different levels of endorphins.
For scientific purposes only, of course.
Before he could experiment further, however, he must eradicate their current problem. He had already overcome the first obstacle- but he could not continue until the next day when the embassy opened. He looked forward to telling Amanda he had fulfilled his promise to her; he had no doubt he would succeed. It would be over by the following evening, he was sure of it.
What disturbed him the most was that Karen could not have acted alone. She must have had an accomplice- or perhaps multiple accomplices. The idea that so many people would conspire against someone like Amanda astonished him. Humans were the most duplicitous creatures he had ever seen.
Except for his Amanda, of course.
"Sarek?" she said, breaking into his reverie. He looked up at her.
"Yes, Amanda?" he asked.
"You seem...distracted," Amanda said. Her brows were furrowed slightly, the corners of her lips downturned. This expression could mean many things; anger, disappointment, confusion. This time he was sure it was "concern".
"My thought patterns are more erratic than is normal. I must meditate longer tonight," he replied.
"Is that because of...you know..." Her voice lowered. "The kiss?"
"I do not believe so," Sarek assured her. It was a possibility, but he dismissed it. "It is nothing for you to be concerned about, Amanda. I am only planning for tomorrow."
She did not reply to that. Looking down at her empty plate, she bit her lips. He had no idea what this action meant.
Dinner was soon over and their dishes cleared away, and then they simply sat looking at each other.
"Have you ever played three-dimensional chess, Amanda?" he asked.
"A few times. I'm not very good at it," she admitted.
"I could teach you," he offered. She smiled.
"Sure," she said. And so they moved back into the living room, where Sarek set up the board. They started their game and he began to teach her. They did not speak of anything but chess for the next thirty minutes.
"Sarek..." she said, and he knew she was going to talk about something other than chess as she leaned back in her chair. "If I don't get through this..."
"You will. It is only logical that you do," Sarek replied automatically. She leaned forward to look at him.
"But if I don't somehow, then...I want to thank you. For everything."
Her eyes and voice were gentle as she looked up at him. He wondered if now was an appropriate time to conduct his experiment.
"Humans place much importance on conveying their gratitude. There is no need to," Sarek replied. "I know you are grateful."
She smiled and shook her head at him. He interpreted this as amusement rather than disapproval.
"To think this could be the last time we sit and talk like this..." she murmured.
"It is not." His tone was sharper than either of them expected, and she blinked in surprise. "There will be many more of these conversations in the future. You are being irrational by suggesting otherwise."
She was silent, still looking up at him. He regretted being harsh, although she did not appear to be offended by it. Her hand rested on the table between them and he was seized by a strange compulsion to lay his hand over hers. He resisted it but his hand twitched.
"Forgive me," he said quietly as he sat back. "I must meditate. And you should retire to your room for the night."
She nodded mutely and they stood at the same time. He led her wordlessly up the staircase and down the corridor to her room. They stood outside of it for several silent seconds.
"It is likely that I will be gone when you awake in the morning," Sarek said. "You may roam the house as freely as you please."
"Thank you," she whispered, but he sensed she was thanking him for more than that. He said nothing and was pleasantly surprised when she once more stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. He returned it as tenderly as she did, and then she pulled away. Much too soon. It had not been a sufficient amount of time to test the chemical reactions...
She was smiling again. "Good night, Sarek," she said, opening the door to her room.
"Good night," Sarek replied, and then she was gone. He turned away and began to walk down the corridor with his hands clasped behind his back.
He could become accustomed to this kissing- as long as he kept his mental shields up at all times. He did not wish to transmit his feelings into her unknowingly. Kissing was not a Vulcan thing to do...but he was, after all, courting a human.
It was strange how something so unsanitary and primitive could evoke such...feelings. Perhaps kissing and the subsequent chemical reactions were a bonding process? Nothing like a telepathic bond, of course, but perhaps a biological one. If that were the case, kissing was not illogical at all- even though it was still a not-quite-unwelcome invasion of one's private space. It was a way to assess one another's compatibility. He must research osculation in his spare time. It was interesting.
He had more important things to worry about, however. He must meditate and tomorrow...he would make sure he had an opportunity to continue kissing her.
Karen stood with her arms folded over her chest, staring out the window. She hadn't wanted to come in to the embassy this ridiculously early, especially on a Saturday...but after Frank Nolan reviewed the security vids the night before, her presence was required so the police could take her statement when they came. So here she was.
She had to admit at least to herself that when she first began to plan her revenge, she had not meant for it to go this far. Her intention had been to get Little Miss Perfect in trouble with administration- she'd wanted her fired. She hadn't stopped to think that Amanda would get thrown in prison to boot.
Even she, with her dubious morals, was a little uncomfortable with that. But it was too late now...they had dove in too far. If she copped to it now she would be in prison. And she would be taking others with her. It would be better for her to just suck it up.
"Ren?"
Frank Nolan's nervous voice came from behind her. She turned around to glare at him. "Ren" was his nickname for her and she didn't mind it- but only as long as they were in bed.
"What is it, Frank?" she asked.
"Are you sure about this? I mean, I know it's too late..."
"Exactly, Frank- it's too late. This is deeper than we thought- but there's nothing we can do about it. So just go with it, okay? Did you fix all the vids?"
"Yeah, they're done." He sighed. "I'm no computer genius, though. If someone knows what they're doing..."
"Don't worry about that, it's not an issue," Karen said, waving her hand at him. "Just don't act suspiciously and we'll be fine."
She turned back to the window, arms still crossed.
"Linette and the director will be here soon," Frank said, moving towards the door. She didn't reply as he left.
She continued to stare out at the courtyard as it gradually lightened with early-morning sunshine. The rain of the day before was a distant memory already.
Was she actually feeling guilty? What was wrong with her? Sure, she hadn't been trying to get Amanda Grayson thrown in jail...but she didn't like the girl and never had. She was too...pristine. And now she was in trouble as well. She couldn't afford to feel bad about the situation. It was a dog-eat-dog world and it was either her, or Amanda. It was no contest.
Karen watched as a hover car pulled up and parked in front of the embassy. Her heart stopped when she saw who climbed out...he was tall, wearing black clothing, and had pointed ears.
Considering that no one was supposed to be here today other than those involved in the Grayson debacle, she was suddenly very nervous. She hadn't taken into consideration the fact that the ambassador would get involved. It made sense- he was Amanda's boyfriend, after all- but she hadn't thought about it.
And if a Vulcan got involved...surely he could figure it out?
Karen could feel her world crashing down around her shoulders. Suddenly she couldn't breathe- her mouth felt dry. She backed away from the window as if afraid he might see her there as he made his way down the cement walkway towards the entrance.
But they had covered all their tracks, hadn't they? Frank had helped her take care of all evidence of her involvement...and the guy from Filing was scared shitless of Frank, who was practically bulging with muscle. He wasn't even about to speak up.
So then why was she so afraid as she saw the Vulcan disappear into the building?