Sarek folded his hands behind his back—a gesture widely considered to be neutral among most Federation members—and resisted the urge to crane his neck in the direction of the building's entrance. Watching the door would not make her emerge from it any sooner. He considered confirming the address and his hand journeyed toward the interior pocket of his cloak to extract his tablet, but the sound of a creaking door gave him pause.
"Sorry I'm late." She was clad in a short yellow skirt and a cream-colored blouse with long, billowing sleeves. He had never noticed what a delicate form she possessed until now and it was all his eyes could do to avoid staring at her.
"You are not late," he corrected, stealing a glance at the time on his PADD. "You are precisely on time."
"Have you been waiting long?" she asked.
"Nineteen minutes."
"Why so early?"
"It was logical to arrive early to ensure I could locate your dwelling."
"You look like a lost puppy, standing out here by yourself."
Sarek was unsure what facet of his being reminded her of a young canid creature but he chose not to remark upon it, since she often said things he didn't understand. He led her to the self-driving vehicle he'd requisitioned for the day and opened the door for her. "Will your friend be joining us?"
"Mara?" Amanda asked with a noticeable wince as she slid onto the wide, forward-facing seat. Sarek was relieved to discover her skirt was not truly a skirt at all, but was instead a form of short-cropped trousers. Not that he had been looking. "I didn't want to mention it to her and she hasn't said anything about it. I'm not sure Vedek invited her. If he had, she would have spent hours dissecting her closet for the best thing to wear. Speaking of which, I hope this is okay."
He took a seat opposite her, closed the door behind him, and answered more quickly than he probably ought, "Your attire is acceptable."
"Good," Amanda said, tossing her smooth, brown hair over her shoulders. "Anyway, I can't guarantee Mara won't be there, but it doesn't seem likely. And I can't stress enough how lucky that makes us."
"Explain."
"Mara has a talent for sniffing out social situations," Amanda replied with a grim smile. "She would probably figure out we weren't really dating if she spent more than five minutes with us."
"Are all humans so intuitive?" Sarek asked, wondering if this charade was doomed to fail.
"No. I would say most aren't and besides, Mara knows me really well. Based on everything you've said, you don't seem all that chummy with your co-workers so as long as we keep conversations about our relationship to a minimum and look reasonably happy with each other, I bet most people will buy it."
"Many of the people I work with are very inquisitive," Sarek said.
"You know the best way to keep people from asking too many questions?"
"No."
"Ask them questions first. Ask people about their lives, what they like, where they went to school, what they do for fun, their kids. People love to gush about their kids. And really listen to their answers and ask follow up questions. It keeps the attention off of you and people will walk away from the interaction feeling like they know you."
"Is such manipulation really so common in human discourse?" Sarek asked, stifling a feeling of discomfort at the idea of making deliberate inquiries of a personal nature.
"I don't know," she laughed. "I'm sure some people would just call it social skills. But if someone does ask you a question you can't really avoid, just give an answer as short and as close to the truth as possible. If someone asks where we met, tell them we met at a bar."
Sarek nodded. "Logical."
They sat in relative silence for the rest of the journey to Garrett's home. The house was situated at the rear of a circle of houses overlooking a lake. As they exited the car, Amanda turned and asked, "I know you're not into hand holding, but did you mind linking arms the other day when we ran into Petra?"
Her touch that day had been surprising, not only because he hadn't expected it, but also because he had enjoyed her willingness to openly express her affection for him. Not that he would ever tell her so. "That was acceptable."
"What's your boss' name again?" she asked, wandering toward the portico.
"Garrett Fischer," he answered. "And his wife's name is Tracy."
"Garret and Tracy," she repeated to herself, stopping and turning at the front door. "You ready?"
"I am."
Amanda took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and pressed a small button by the door. She conjured up a wide smile and turned just in time to be greeted by a woman with pale golden hair.
"You must be Sarek!" she proclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Garrett's told me all about you!"
Sarek was surprised to learn he was a topic of conversation in his employer's private residence. He was about to inquire what she'd been told but the woman was already hugging Amanda.
"Are you acquainted with one another?" he asked as they pulled apart.
"Oh, I'm just a hugger!" Mrs. Fischer claimed.
Amanda flashed him a smile that looked like it contained a considerable amount of information beyond simple joy or amusement. "Some people are just huggers."
This greatly alarmed Sarek.
"But I won't hug you," Mrs. Fischer continued. "Garrett says you're not the hugging type and he's been reminding me all week to leave you alone."
"I see. Thank you, Mrs. Fischer. I will thank him for his courtesy regarding my comfort."
Mrs. Fischer laughed again and demanded to be called Tracy. Amanda gave him a sidelong glance, a thin smile forming on her lips and her eyes glowing with obvious emotion.
"Well, everyone's out back if you want to follow me," said the lady of the house, stepping aside to allow them into a grand entrance hall.
The Fischers' home reminded him quite a bit of his own family estate in Shi'Khar. The style was decidedly Terran, but the openness and minimal décor felt familiar, as did the sound bouncing off exposed hard surfaces. Before he could properly reflect on his nostalgia, his thoughts were interrupted by Amanda's arm linking with his. Another touch, unsolicited, but not altogether unwelcome.
"You okay?" she asked quietly.
"Yes," he replied, following Tracy out into a large yard.
A handful of his colleagues were already present, along with three children throwing a thin disc to each other, or in the case of the pudgy boy, at each other. Garrett was standing with Shannon from IT but waved exuberantly when his wife heralded his and Amanda's arrival from the deck.
"You two go ahead," Tracy said, stepping back inside. "Sounds like more people are at the door."
Sarek led Amanda down the wooden stairs and onto the lawn. "I had believed there would be more people in attendance."
"What time was this supposed to start?" she asked.
"Noon, which I believe is synonymous with 1200 hours."
Amanda glanced down at the device on her wrist. "It's exactly noon. It's common for people to be fashionably late to things like this." Before he could ask her to clarify, she added, "People don't usually show up right on time. I'm sure more will come."
"I see."
When they were within several paces of Garrett and Shannon, Sarek stopped and delivered introductions. Shannon carefully observed Amanda before shaking her hand and acknowledging her in a tone that was somewhat shriller usual. More introductions followed and continued periodically as more people joined the festivities. Amanda had been right: humans had so little regard for punctuality that it was considered appropriate or even encouraged to arrive late.
Her presence made conversing with his colleagues easier, particularly because he tried following her advice and asking personal questions of them, even if it went against every instinct. People were friendly to her, even if a lot of the women were casting sidelong looks at her when they thought she wasn't paying attention. It appeared he had chosen a perfectly acceptable mate, even if his relationship with her was purely contractual in nature.
She naturally gravitated toward the children and soon was talking with a woman holding a rather rotund baby. Sarek hung back and considered finding some refreshment when a hard slap on his shoulder startled him.
"How's it going?" asked Vedek.
Sarek had seen him arrive half an hour earlier but had made no effort to introduce Amanda to him since they were acquainted through her roommate.
"I am well," he replied. "How are you?" He honestly did not care how Vedek was faring, but he'd spent the afternoon inquiring after other people and it slipped out of his mouth as a matter of habit more than genuine interest.
"Good, good," Vedek nodded, taking a sip from an amber-colored bottle labeled chocolate stout. "Isn't this much better than a stiff, conservative Vulcan party?"
"I would disagree," Sarek responded, glancing in the direction of raucous laughter emanating from the direction of the barbecue grill. "It is simply different."
"Very different," Vedek said darkly. "Don't guess you saw the news this morning?"
"I have not," he admitted, privately acknowledging his disappointment with himself over his negligence in keeping up with current events.
"Ask'era Ozhikersa raided three temples in Gol and killed a priest."
Despite six decades of logic training, it was difficult to rein in his shock. Vedek must have noticed Sarek's expression because he offered a thin smile and added, "Yeah, just barged right in, took the priests hostage, and declared the temples heretical."
"Gol has been plagued by partisan politics for many years," Sarek said, quickly composing himself.
"True," Vedek agreed. "Though it makes you wonder how anyone could argue killing a priest is logical."
Sarek turned to look Vedek directly in the eye. "This murder is abhorrent and their actions do not speak for all Vulcans."
"No, not even most Vulcans," Vedek conceded. "But there are people who believe Chief Minister Sendak is a viable candidate for First Minister."
"Sendak may be popular in Gol, but he lacks planet-wide appeal. He will never win the general election."
"Not all people come to power through elections."
"Do you mean to imply Vulcan is at risk of falling victim to a revolution intent on installing a totalitarian regime?" Sarek asked.
"It wouldn't be the first time."
"It would be the first time in more than six centuries."
"Political movements go in cycles," Vedek shrugged, taking another drink of his beer. "I'd say we're about due for some upheaval. Don't underestimate these logic extremists."
"I do not," Sarek insisted, thinking of the advertisement he'd seen on the community board in the park the other day. "I merely assert they are members of an extremely small minority."
"True, it is small. For now. But movements rarely start off big. And even small movements can make big impacts."
Sarek could not deny this and prepared to extricate himself from the conversation when Vedek quickly switched subjects. "I hear Ambassador Skon is considering a candidacy for the position."
"Speculation is illogical," Sarek replied, bristling inwardly.
"There is logic in it when Ambassador Skon is widely believed by many to be the logical choice."
"I am not certain Ambassador Skon would prefer planetary administration to interstellar diplomacy."
"Many people would say 'my father' when speaking about their dad, rather than use formal titles."
"It is perfectly acceptable for anyone to refer to a person by their formal title, even those who are related to them," Sarek retorted. "Perhaps you have been on Earth too long."
"Maybe," Vedek grinned. "And maybe your father would prefer interstellar diplomacy to running a planet, but since when has Vulcan culture ever been about what anyone wants? Doesn't Surak himself say the needs of the many—"
"Must outweigh the needs of the few," Sarek finished.
"You know, there are a lot of people who would feel better if your father were to become First Minister."
"I cannot say what he will or will not do."
"You could set a lot of minds at ease if you just asked him."
"I am not inclined to."
Vedek took another long swig of his drink and said, "I heard you were disowned by your family for some very shady business involving a Vulcan princess."
It took everything Sarek had to maintain his outward calm, even if his mind was reeling in horror at just how pervasive the story of his scandal had become. He glanced at the remnants of the chocolate drink in Vedek's hands and said, "I believe you are drunk."
"You're probably right," he laughed, tipping the last of the bottle's contents into his mouth. "And don't worry, I won't tell anyone about your dirty little secret, though I wonder if any of them would really care. All the women in the office swoon over you because of who you are."
"Explain."
"You come from one of Vulcan's most powerful political families."
"I find it difficult to believe our colleagues would have any knowledge or interest in Vulcan politics," Sarek replied. "And I have never spoken of my family to any of them. What could possibly cause them to swoon, as you say?"
"I might have mentioned something to a few people," Vedek drawled, laughing to himself as he tossed his empty bottle into a portable reclaimator and headed toward the beverage table in pursuit of a replacement.
"What is there to mention?" Sarek demanded to know, following him. He lowered his voice and added, "I come from a prominent family, but I live on Earth now."
"You come from the S'chn T'gai family," Vedek said, cracking the top off another bottle of chocolate stout. He held it out to Sarek, "Want one?"
"I do not consume chocolate," he replied. "There is no logic in inebriation."
"Oh, right." Vedek took a sip of the drink for himself. "You just drink tea and mochas."
"Yes," Sarek replied, quenching his exasperation and feeling eager to finish their previous conversation despite Vedek's attempts to derail it. "What have you told the employees of Cary Cartographic about me or my family?"
"Look, I did you a favor," Vedek sighed. "I was trying to help you find some bedroom company when you first got here. Not that human women really seem to need any excuse to find you attractive, but coming from a wealthy and powerful family doesn't hurt. I'm pretty sure I overheard Giannina telling someone you were the Vulcan equivalent of a duke."
"You have made me the subject of rumors," he said slowly, taking care to control his tone. "And for what purpose? I can think of none but that you did it for your own amusement."
"Every wild story usually has a kernel of truth to it." Vedek shrugged with a mischievous smile and glanced over at Amanda, who was now holding the woman's baby and making strange faces at it. "Does she know who you are?"
"What she knows is none of your business," Sarek said, taking a step back. "I would prefer it if you would refrain from speaking of my private matters to others in the future, particularly since you are not well informed on the subject."
Sarek turned to leave but immediately encountered Petra. She wore a tight-fitting bronze-colored shirt that displayed much of the top half of her breasts. Sarek wasn't trying to look at them, but they were impossible to miss.
"Sarek! Are you having fun?" she squealed, taking a long drink of a bright blue liquid in a clear bottle.
"This gathering is enjoyable," he said, even if it had become less pleasant after his conversation with Vedek.
"Garrett's barbecue is like an opening act for my birthday party tonight," she grinned.
"Is it customary to hold parties to venerate the anniversary of one's birth?" he asked, suddenly intrigued.
"You don't celebrate birthdays on Vulcan?" she asked.
"Being born is hardly an achievement worth honoring and if it were, the honor should be my mother's due to birth being such an arduous process."
This made Petra laugh candidly enough that he could see the teeth at the very back of her mouth. "Well, we celebrate birthdays here on Earth. Today is my birthday."
"I see."
"Most people usually say 'Happy birthday.'"
"Forgive my ignorance," Sarek replied. "Happy birthday."
"My friends are having a party for me tonight over at the Gallery if you want to come."
"I am unable to attend." He was perfectly able, he merely did not want to. He had not lived on Earth very long, but he had already learned that being so frank as to admit he had no desire to attend Petra's party would be considered rude. Humans made such an extraordinary effort on behalf of illogical pretenses.
"Why? You have plans with your girlfriend?"
"Yes." It was a lie but it felt like a necessary one to avoid further unwanted social interaction with Petra.
"Oh right, Amanda," Petra sighed, scanning the crowded yard.
"Her birthday is approaching," Sarek admitted. "What other human traditions surround this occasion besides a customary greeting?"
Petra shrugged. "Cake, balloons, presents?"
"You mean a gift?"
"Yes, at the very least, you have to get her a gift."
"What form of gift is appropriate?"
Petra put a finger to her lips and smiled, clearly pleased that Sarek thought of her highly enough to consult her on such matters. "Not sure. How long have you been dating?"
"Not long."
"What does she like?"
Sarek wasn't entirely sure. "She is fond of coffee."
"Don't you dare get that girl a boring coffee mug," Petra insisted, observing Amanda cheering on the children in their game with the peculiar plastic disc with the baby still attached to her hip. "She clearly loves kids."
"I do not feel a child is an appropriate gift."
Petra howled with laughter once again. "No, I guess not. Why don't you get her jewelry and flowers? That's always a safe bet."
"Flowers?"
"Yeah, flowers."
"Is it common to give the reproductive parts of plants as gifts?"
Petra's ability to laugh at such simple things was boundless. "Yes, very common."
"I see. I will ask what kind she prefers."
"You can't ask," Petra scolded. "It has to be a surprise."
"How can it be a surprise if it is common to honor human birth anniversaries with gifts? She will surely anticipate receiving a gift and if I do not ask, how can I ensure she will like what I select?"
"That's the whole point of gift giving, isn't it? To show you care about a person so much that you know them well enough to buy them something they would like without needing to ask what they want?"
"Highly illogical."
"If you say so."
"What flowers are common to give on birthdays?" Sarek asked.
Petra's eyes flicked in Amanda's direction and upon noticing she'd handed the infant back to its mother and was approaching their position, she grinned and said, "I can't give you all the answers. You're her boyfriend. Put a little thought into it."
She quickly darted away and ten seconds later, Amanda was at his side. "How are you holding up?"
"I am well. You?"
"Good. What were you talking to Petra about?"
He thought to himself for a moment. The question regarding her preference of jewelry and flowers was on the tip of his tongue, but he chose to keep it there. "Nothing of consequence."
Hours had flown by but Amanda was genuinely having too much fun to notice, much to her surprise. Sarek's coworkers were like any other set of young and middle-aged working professionals, but they were all likeable enough and their kids were adorable. Added to that, the food was good and plentiful, the weather was unseasonably pleasant, and Sarek was actually trying to be sociable and not stilted and awkward.
When he got caught up in a discussion with a woman about geospatial engineering, she politely excused herself and wandered to the outer yard to find the kids had once again taken up the frisbee and were playing a game they called cups.
The object was simple enough: two players had staked two sticks into the ground, set plastic cups atop them, and endeavored to knock the opposing player's cups off with the frisbee. She shouted encouragement to Jenna, the awkwardly tall eight-year-old with the glasses, then eventually joined her to give her pointers on turning out her wrist to get the most accurate throw.
They played several rounds and eventually the children convinced Amanda to face off against Tommy, a freckled boy who was the exact right age to still be the apple of his mommy's eye but a real turd to everyone else. She planned to be a good sport, but decided she wasn't going to go easy on him like she did the others. The kid deserved to be knocked down a peg.
She was in the middle of re-staking her poles when a voice behind her murmured, "Why do you seem to prefer the company of children?"
Her cheeks grew hot and she turned to find Sarek watching her, an almost bemused look on his typically neutral face. She was supposed to be here posing as his girlfriend, not playing frisbee with his colleague's kids.
"I've always loved kids," she replied with a dismissive shrug. "Even when I was a little kid. Care to join us?"
He took several cautious steps forward. The children were watching him with interest but said nothing.
"What are the rules?" he asked.
"They're easy enough. These are our cups," she said, perching a cup face down on the end of one of the reedy poles. "Our job is to defend them from the other team, who will try and knock them off with the frisbee. We take turns throwing it."
"The premise is simple," Sarek agreed, accepting her offer of the frisbee.
Amanda turned to Tommy and said, "Wanna play teams?"
Tommy gave her a thumbs up, called his younger brother Jake to his side, cupped his hands to his mouth and cried, "You're gonna lose!"
Amanda shot Sarek a lopsided grin, suddenly feeling embarrassed that a couple of adults were watching in the inner yard. He was turning the frisbee over in his hands, running his long fingers over the bottom plastic lip. "Do you want to let me throw first so you can see how it's done?"
"It seems evident," he remarked. "It's merely a matter of achieving the proper velocity, angle of attack, and angular momentum."
"Are you going to turn this into a physics lesson?" she teased.
"Do you want me to?"
"No," she laughed. "If you want to throw it first, go ahead. You ready, Tommy? Jake?"
"Ready!" the boys cried.
She gently touched Sarek's elbow. "Don't go too easy them. They're pretty good."
"I see," Sarek said, twisting his arm back in preparation to aim.
His form seemed a bit unusual, but the moment his forearm and wrist flicked forward and the frisbee left his hand, she knew he had the right idea. The plastic disc flew from his fingers with such speed that it took her brain time to catch up. The children all whooped and laughed and Amanda turned to see that Sarek had struck the boys' left pole so hard that it was no longer rooted upright in the ground. The cup had obviously flown off and struck the neighboring pole, knocking that cup off too. In one fell swoop, Sarek had won the game.
She laughed and stammered, "That was…okay. Wow."
"Shall we play again?" he asked, looking between her and the boys with mild expectation.
They let the boys go first in the next game and when they missed, Sarek picked up the frisbee and crushed them a second time, then a third. The children who were watching seemed to find Sarek's skill equal parts amazing and hilarious, but Tommy's beet red face told her their opponents didn't find it all that funny.
"Okay, maybe we can cut them a little slack," Amanda muttered in a low tone.
"Slack?"
"You don't have to destroy them in a single throw. Let them get a few throws in."
"You imply I should not play to my full potential."
"They're kids," she said, looking around at the half dozen young faces observing them.
"There is value in losing," he countered. "Failure is a great educator."
"But mercilessly dominating them every single time will make them not want to play the game anymore," she said gently. "Kids learn best when they're having fun and it's no fun being slaughtered."
"I sense you speak hyperbolically," he remarked, cocking his head slightly and offering her the frisbee. "I would not seek to cause physical harm, let alone slaughter them."
"Just try it," she insisted.
Sarek carefully studied the frisbee for a moment and then threw it hard at the boys' poles, this time, missing the right one by centimeters.
"Ha!" Tommy squealed, chasing after it.
Amanda gave Sarek a wry look. "You missed on purpose?"
"I thought it would be strange if I suddenly threw it slower," he confessed, deftly catching the frisbee Jake hurled at him without even looking in the direction it had traveled from.
"How are you so good at this?" she marveled.
"It is simple physics."
Despite the fourth game being closer than the first three had been, she and Sarek were declared the victors. Apparently Sarek didn't have it in him to actually lose. They turned the frisbee over to the kids and followed the steps back up to the inner yard.
"It has been six hours and forty-nine minutes since our arrival," he announced, opening the gate for her to walk through.
She paused and observed the sun hanging low over the lake. It would be setting within the hour. "Are you saying we should go?"
"I am merely acknowledging you are free to leave, since I have only spent four hours and fifty-two minutes tutoring you."
"I thought we agreed to call it an even five hours?" she reminded him.
"And you have still exceeded that requirement."
"I don't mind staying if you don't," she said, turning to face him. "I'm actually having a lot of fun and I bet the view of the fireworks will be spectacular from here. I won't charge you the tutoring."
"We made an agreement and I will honor it," Sarek said. "If you elect to stay, I will tutor you in exchange for your time."
"Okay," she said. Something in his matter-of-fact tone mildly wounded her. She was actually beginning to consider Sarek a friend, but did he really prefer to keep their interactions purely transactional?
They strolled back into the inner yard and took a seat at a picnic table at the outer edges of a very lively gathering. Vedek was regaling the group with a story about a time his parents took him camping in Vulcan's Forge and how he had to fight off some kind fanged animal with his bare hands. Amanda found it more interesting to watch Sarek watch Vedek. If she didn't know better, she would suppose Sarek didn't like him.
Amanda leaned back and turned so her mouth was only a few centimeters from Sarek's ear. He startled, but she spoke in a soft and reassuring voice, asking, "That tattoo in Vulcan writing on his arm—what does it say?"
"It says 'live long and die young.'"
Amanda unsuccessfully stifled a smile and very soon was laughing. Thankfully, everyone else was already laughing at something Vedek said and her mirth blended well with theirs.
Sarek turned his head to speak more directly into Amanda's ear. "Why are we speaking so conspiratorially? And what do you find amusing?"
"He and Mara deserve each other. That's all. Are there really fanged bears on Vulcan?"
"I believe a sehlat is similar in size to a Terran bear. I'm not sure what other similarities they may share."
"Do you ever miss your home planet?"
"No." His answer was swift and she wasn't sure she believed him.
Sensing it wasn't a subject he wanted to discuss further, they sat and listened to Vedek's stories and jokes about Vulcan, with Sarek quietly providing private commentary as to the truthfulness or feasibility of his claims. Amanda ignored the continued glances of the women as best she could. She was certain most of them thought she was too young for him, among other catty things, but she focused on playing the best, most attentive girlfriend she could without being saccharinely disgusting.
As the light began to fade and people meandered down to the lower yard to view the fireworks, Amanda found herself regretting she hadn't brought a jacket. The day had been warm, but the night promised to be cool. She shivered. Sarek noticed.
"Are you well?"
"A little chilly," she explained. "I'll live."
He removed his light, ankle-length outer garment, revealing a sensible black tailored shirt beneath, and offered the vestment to her. She wavered, biting her lower lip.
"You may take it," he encouraged.
She inched closer and spoke quietly, just in case anyone was listening and said, "I want to, not only because I'm cold but also because offering your coat to a lady when she's cold is extremely chivalrous and very boyfriend-like."
"Then why do you hesitate?"
She scowled. "Because I have too much pride."
"Illogical."
"I know," she sighed, accepting the garment. "You won't be cold?"
"I will endure. Please, put it on."
It was heavier than she expected and impossibly soft. The high collar tickled the bottom of her jaw and every so often she caught the soft scent of something that smelled faintly like smoky cedar. Did Sarek really smell so delicious and if so, how had she never noticed?
They took a seat on the grass near the back of the large group and turned their gaze up to the night sky. A few wisps of clouds blocked the sliver of moon rising in the east.
"May I ask, what do humans find so appealing about deliberate displays of pyrotechnics?"
"They're beautiful. I'm guessing you don't watch fireworks on Vulcan?"
"No."
"Do Vulcans find anything beautiful?"
"I cannot speak for all Vulcans, but I acknowledge the universe is full of many beautiful things."
"What's something you find beautiful?"
He thought to himself for a moment. "It is currently the season of Silkar on my homeworld. Humans would call it spring. Geomagnetic storms are quite common during this time of year due to our local star's increased activity, and when the charged particles emitted by the star collide with Vulcan's magnetic field, and they illuminate the night sky with many remarkable colors. I believe Terrans call the phenomenon the aurora borealis."
She smiled. "The northern lights, yeah. We see them back home sometimes."
Before he could respond, the first whistle of fireworks rang through her ears and the purple-gray sky lit up with cherry red starbursts. She pointed upward and said, "It's not the northern lights, but it's the best they can do in this part of the planet."
They both leaned back to observe but as the show went on, Amanda sensed Sarek was watching her more than he was watching the fireworks, which made her very self-conscious. She tried to lean back and act casual, but her hand slid over his on the cold grass. A jolt of tingling warmth drifted through her fingers and up her wrist and she pulled her hand away.
She shot Sarek a look of confusion and apology, but the moment her eyes met his face, he quickly turned his head to look away.
"S-sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I'm not trying to hold your hand or anything."
The glow of the fireworks lit his face well enough for her to see him swallow hard. "I believe the colors of the explosives come from metal salts."
Had he not heard her apology? Or was he not accepting it?
"Barium chloride and barium nitrate burns green," he explained quickly. "Copper chloride burns blue."
"Oh," she replied, sitting up. "Okay."
"And calcium chloride is orange," he added, refusing to peel his eyes away from the dazzling display.
Amanda gave him a wan smile and placed her hands in her lap. He had heard her; she was sure of it. Maybe science was just easier for him. She put on her best smile and asked, "So what chemical makes the red ones?"