Sarek's eyes scanned the rows of pastries, pies, and cakes and wondered which of these would be most suitable for a birthday. Petra had said a birthday cake, but there appeared to be so many categories and subcategories of cakes available in a wide variety of flavors. He was particularly intrigued by the concept of cheesecake, which appeared to be a hybrid between the fudge contained in the case at the other end of the shop and the pies in the adjacent display rather than a cake made of cheese.
He was currently engaged in a visual détente with the shop attendant, a young human man whose pustule-covered face was trained on a small handheld PADD. Every so often he would laugh at something he read, steal a glance at Sarek, and then return his attention to the device.
Sarek stood in front of the case of cakes and cleared his throat. His signal was sufficient.
"Help you?" asked the young man, sliding his PADD into his pocket. Sarek noticed a small rectangular tag on his shirt, identifying him as Sam.
"I require a birthday cake."
"Okay," murmured Sam. "What kind?"
"I was hoping you would be able to advise me," he explained.
"What kind of advice do you need?"
"What sort of cake is customary for a birthday?"
Sam's eyes narrowed and he chewed his bottom lip. He gestured to the case and replied, "Uh, most of these? Who's it for?"
Sarek was tempted to explain his situation with Amanda, but decided he would receive the most appropriate advice if he told the truth. The limited truth.
"An acquaintance."
"Is it just for them or are you taking it to a party?"
"It is for her only."
"Okay, what flavor does she like?"
"I do not know," he confessed. "Are some flavors more common for birthday cakes than others?"
Sam's face twisted into a mildly pained expression and he shrugged. "Most people go with chocolate or vanilla. Both are pretty safe flavors."
Sarek pondered this. He had been intrigued by the idea of carrot cake. He liked the fibrous Terran vegetable and believed he would prefer a more savory offering to the more indulgent options, but reminded himself this cake was intended for Amanda. Which would she prefer? Chocolate or vanilla?
"Which of those two is more commonly chosen?"
Sam sighed heavily and leaned over the counter. "They're both pretty popular but if I were to guess…vanilla? It's probably the least offensive flavor for a cake. Not everyone loves vanilla, but I don't know anyone who really hates it either."
"Then I would like a vanilla cake."
"What kind of frosting do you want?"
Sarek hesitated. "What kinds of frosting are available?"
Sam scowled and glanced at his baked wares. "You don't order a lot of cakes, do you?"
"No."
"Don't they have cakes—well, do they have cakes where you're from?"
"We do occasionally indulge in sweet desserts but none so decadent as these. And we do not celebrate birthdays."
"Alright. How about I just make you a vanilla sponge cake with vanilla buttercream frosting? It's a very standard birthday cake. And if it's just for…you said an acquaintance?"
"Yes."
"A fifteen-centimeter cake is about six servings, but it's the smallest cake we make short of a cupcake."
"Then a fifteen-centimeter cake will suffice."
Sam cleared his throat and delivered a thin smile. "I'll probably regret asking but do you want any writing or decorations on it?"
"Decoration?"
"Yeah, people usually decorate birthday cakes." He motioned toward a duotronic display at the end of the display case. "Those are some examples of what the replicator can do."
Sarek tapped the display and began to feel more uncertain than ever at the sheer scale of options. Flowers, dots, stripes, balloons, and bows of all colors were available. He scanned, wondering what sort of thing she would prefer when he stopped at a simple image of a cake with black frosting and multicolored starbursts. The label read fireworks. Amanda liked fireworks.
"This one will be acceptable."
Sam turned the screen to see it and said in a flat tone, "Great choice. Do you want writing on it?"
"Writing?"
"Do you want a birthday message written on it?"
"Are messages very common?"
"I mean…it's a birthday cake? A lot of people just put 'Happy Birthday.'"
More questions and exasperated answers followed and thirty minutes later, he left the shop with a replicated vanilla birthday cake and a small package of candles. Despite Sarek's intense trepidation, Sam had convinced him that humans really were in the habit of putting incendiary objects on celebratory baked goods and lighting them on fire when the cakes were intended in honor of a birth anniversary.
He walked slowly with the cake box balanced in the crook of his left arm and the red flavinit pot in the palm of his right hand. He arrived at Amanda's quarters at 1140 hours, checked in with the young woman at the front desk, and found Amanda's room on the third floor of the building.
He flinched when she opened the door. Her face was exactly as he remembered it in his dreams and the pace of his heart quickened. While he fought to suppress several bewildering emotions, she reflexively uttered, "Hey Sarek." Then her eyes caught sight of the cake box and the plant and she balked. "What's this?"
He briefly reconsidered his decision to surprise her with a cake. "It is your birthday and I was informed a cake would be appropriate. If it is not, please forgive—"
"You got me a cake?" she asked, her voice not rising above a whisper. Her eyes darted from the cake to his face and a wide smile broke on her lips. "That's the sweetest thing anyone's done for me in a long time."
This greatly pleased him. "I also wish to present you with this flavinit plant. I was informed a gift of flowers would be appropriate, but it seemed more logical to offer the entire plant so that you may periodically experience the enjoyment of flowers if the plant is properly maintained."
Her smile deepened and her eyes began to shine. They were quite lovely when they were like that. "It's so pretty. I've never seen anything like it."
"It is a flavinit plant native to my home world," he replied, offering it to her. "It is yours."
"If it's from Vulcan, that just makes it all the more special," she said, still grinning widely. "Thank you. This is so nice of you. You really didn't have to do this."
"I was told it was the appropriate tradition."
She seemed at a loss for words for a few moments but eventually she shook her head and asked, "Do you want to come in?"
He followed her over the threshold and asked, "Where shall I set this cake?"
"The kitchen counter is fine," she said, escorting him across the cramped space to the smallest kitchen he'd ever seen.
"The man at the bakery said it is customary to set candles in the frosting of the cake, sing a short song which the attendant at the bakery was kind enough to teach me, and wait for you to blow the candles out. This all seems very illogical but I will honor this tradition if you choose."
She hid a laugh behind her hand and cocked her head in wonderment at the cake box. "You don't have to sing or light candles if you don't want to. Really, it was so nice of you to do anything at all."
She flipped open the lid of the cake box and took stock of his offering, laughed aloud, then clapped her hand back over her mouth. He instantly questioned his final decision of decoration. After much debate with Sam over the excessive familiarity of the phrase "Happy Birthday," not to mention his argument that such a greeting would seem disingenuous coming from a Vulcan, Sarek had settled on the slightly longer and more formal message, "You were born on this day nineteen years ago."
"Is something the matter?" he asked.
Moisture dotted Amanda's lower lashes and her hand dropped from her mouth to her chest. He had upset her to the point of tears and he was in the middle of mentally composing an apology when she quickly wiped her eyes and whispered, "This is so…so sweet. And so Vulcan. I would give you a hug if I didn't know how much you'd hate it."
Would he hate it? He wasn't so sure. "You appear distressed."
She sniffed and drew in a sharp breath. "They're happy tears, I promise."
"Humans cry when they are happy?" This perplexed him. Vulcans frequently cried as children in response to pain or distress until they reached sufficient age to learn to control such effusions, but he had never heard of anyone crying out of delight.
"Sometimes," she said, turning to face him. The broad smile on her face suggested she was genuinely happy, but the narrow streams of liquid glistening on her cheeks was disconcerting. "Thank you, Sarek. Really. I don't think anyone's ever gone so far for a fake girlfriend."
More tears brimmed in her eyes. Desperate to avoid an outpouring of more emotion, he considered presenting her with the vokaya pendant, but before he could, the door burst open.
"Mara?" Amanda sputtered, closing the lid of the cake box. "What are you doing here?"
"Hey!" called a female voice. "Oh, you cleaned!"
"I have company over," Amanda spat.
"Me too," Mara said, poking her head into the kitchen. "Oh hey, Sarek."
He nodded in reply toward Amanda's companion and spied Vedek right behind her. "Hello."
"Hey, Sarek," Vedek said, shooting him a wink.
"Hello, Vedek," Sarek replied, refusing to offer him anything beyond the most neutral of greetings.
"Great, now that that's over, why don't you find somewhere else to go for a while?" Amanda said to Mara, her lips barely moving over her clenched jaw.
"We spent the night at Vedek's place but his roommate was supposed to come back this morning and that's kind of an awkward situation," Mara yawned, wrapping her arms around Vedek's neck.
"Then go somewhere else," Amanda said, waving toward the door. "It's a big city. There's lots to do."
"Honestly, we fancied a cuddle," Vedek said with a shrug.
"Then go somewhere else and cuddle there," Amanda groaned. "Sarek is here to help me study for a physics exam."
"You do know that when we say cuddle, we really mean we're here to have sex, right?" Mara laughed.
This revelation greatly surprised Sarek. Perhaps he should revisit his understanding of the word, or perhaps it was just another human euphemism.
"I know exactly what you meant by cuddling," Amanda countered. "If you literally can't go a few hours without having sex, go get a hotel room."
"But our dorm room is free."
"But it's not free of other people," Amanda said, gesturing between herself and Sarek.
"But Vedek is leaving for some space station later tonight and it's our last chance to be together for a whole week."
Amanda rolled her eyes. "Oh no, a whole week."
"You don't get to tell me I'm not allowed to miss my boyfriend," Mara retorted.
"Oh sure, play the victim."
Mara's mouth grinned but her eyes remained cold. "You know what? We don't mind an audience. Go ahead and stay."
Sarek was accustomed to Vedek saying shocking things, but someone declaring their indifference to having witnesses to their sexual activities was among the most scandalous things he'd ever heard.
"I have no desire to watch you mate," he professed.
"Amanda," Mara whined, drawing out the vowels of her name. "You can study anywhere."
"Yeah, but I shouldn't have to," she said, her face growing red. "This is my room too and you don't respect the fact that we share this space. I had to shove piles of your clothes under your bed. You're a slob and it's embarrassing."
"I'll try to be cleaner," Mara said, adopting an obviously contrite tone. "Can we please just have an hour?"
"It's my birthday!" Amanda said, raising her voice.
Mara's eyes widened. "Oh my stars! I forgot!"
"Yeah, I know! Everyone forgot!" Amanda's hands were shaking and it appeared tears threatened to reemerge. "Everyone except Sarek."
She stole a glance at him and her expression softened. Not wishing to see Amanda become further provoked and certainly desperate to leave before Vedek and Mara began their coital activities, he seized the brief pause to suggest another option. "It seems clear your fellow tenant has no intention of vacating, so perhaps we could adjourn to my apartment."
"See?" Mara began, but Amanda cut her off.
"We shouldn't have to! I invited you over here. I shouldn't get run out of my own room on my birthday because of my horny, inconsiderate roommate!"
"No, but I also have no desire to watch her mate with my colleague."
The rage in Amanda's face split into a sharp laugh. She took a deep breath, snatched the cake box from the counter, and said, "You're right. Let's go, Sarek."
Mara and Vedek began arguing between themselves, but Sarek didn't stay to hear their deliberations. He had to trot to catch up with Amanda as she fled from the tiny dwelling. The speed with which her short legs could carry her was remarkable, particularly because she appeared to be trembling. As he fell in beside her at a brisk walk she muttered, "I'm so sorry."
"Why should you apologize?" he replied.
"Because I invited you to my room to study and my dysfunctional roommate made things weird. Sorry you had to witness that."
"I still fail to see how you are at fault."
"I'm not, I guess, but I'm still mortified." She stopped at the elevator and gave him a woeful look.
"Embarrassment is illogical."
She gave him a wan smile. "Do you really never feel embarrassed?"
His mind instantly snapped back to his sensual dreams about her and the many emotions those images elicited and replied, "Not in the way I believe you do."
"Are you sure you're okay with going to your place?"
"I would not have invited you if I were not," he explained.
She offered a tiny nod. "Well then. Lead the way."
The walk to Sarek's apartment was familiar because he lived directly across from the learning center. As they approached the stoop of his building, she made out the figure of Adam sitting behind the front desk on weekend duty. She expected the butterflies to erupt in her stomach as they always did when she saw him, but all she felt was a strange sense of generalized anxiety.
When she looked back at Sarek, she noticed he was holding the front door open for her. It was then the butterflies emerged. Brushing them aside as best she could, she silently followed him into the main lobby, back out into a beautiful courtyard, and then up two flights of stairs to an apartment overlooking the swimming pool.
She tried hard to think of some compliment but before one came to mind, he opened the front door and revealed his living space and piqued her curiosity. It was both nothing and everything like she'd imagined. It was ruinously tidy, organized, and minimalist. She was certain most of the furniture came standard with the apartment, but there were still a few colorful, personal touches.
A purple flower similar to the one he'd given her sat in the window sill overlooking the balcony on the opposite side of the main room. A three-tiered chess set sat on a side table and a hexagonal piece of wall art with bells hung on the wall behind the sleek black sofa.
"Your apartment is really nice," she muttered.
Sarek glanced around the room. Evidently, he hadn't been anticipating remarks on his living space. "Thank you."
"Where should I set the cake you got me?"
He showed her to the kitchen and she set the box down on a shiny black countertop. Mara's distraction had taken away some of the awkwardness of Sarek going out of his way to celebrate her birthday, but now they were alone with no threat of interruption and once again, her cheeks began to feel warm. She was about to ask if he'd like to have a piece of cake to break the ice when he produced a slender box from the inner pocket of his jacket.
"I have another gift I wish to give you."
She caught herself before she could blurt out a dismissive comment telling him he shouldn't have. Of course he really shouldn't have—she was only his fake girlfriend, after all—but since he wasn't used to celebrating birthdays, he'd clearly gone out of his comfort zone in doing all this. Her heart swelled with gratitude and yet, she wasn't sure what any of this meant.
He handed her the box and she held her breath as she opened it to reveal an impossibly bright turquoise-colored stone encircled in a brass-colored triangular setting. It almost seemed to glow. She was so mesmerized by its luster that for a moment, she forgot it was being given to her to keep rather than shown to her to observe.
"I was informed jewelry was a suitable gift and—"
"This is the most beautiful stone I've ever seen," she interrupted. And she meant it.
When she finally managed to tear her eyes away from the necklace and look at him, she was pleasantly surprised to see him looking pleasantly surprised. "You really mean to give this to me?"
"Yes," he replied. "And it is more correctly identified as a mineral than a stone."
She closed her eyes and laughed. "I didn't know there was a difference."
"A mineral describes a naturally occurring inorganic element with a well-defined chemical composition, crystalline form, and physical properties, whereas a stone is an aggregate of minerals."
She smiled. "I thought you were an astrophysicist, not a geologist."
"Correct, though as part of my studies at the Vulcan Science Academy, I was required to take coursework in every major discipline of science."
She looked back at the necklace and began to brim with anxiety. Had it been very expensive? Had he put serious thought into selecting it? Her mouth went dry and she felt very conscious of his eyes on her. "Uhm, what-what kind of mineral is it?"
"It is known as vokaya, a rare radioactive mineral found in Vulcan's Go'an region."
Amanda flinched. "It's radioactive?"
"It is a form of alpha radiation, unable to penetrate skin or clothing. It is quite safe."
She ran an index finger over the vivid amulet and smiled. "This is such a lovely present. I really wasn't expecting anything half so extravagant. Honestly, I wasn't expecting anything at all, but thank you so much."
"I was uncertain what specific protocols would apply to our situation, so I thought it prudent to acquire appropriate gifts. You are free to reject them."
She couldn't help but laugh. "Why would I reject them?"
"It is logical to reject a gift that is inappropriate."
"I would argue that it would be incredibly rude," she insisted. "People should always accept a gift given in good faith."
"Even if they do not approve of it?"
"If someone takes time to pick out a gift, part of what they're giving you along with that gift is a tiny piece of themselves. Even if you don't like or want it, it's the thought that counts."
"So you would accept my gifts even if you did not want or like them?"
Amanda dared herself to look him directly in the eye. "I would, but the truth is, I actually like the things you got me. The cake showed so much thought, the flower is very nice, and this necklace is…"
Her words failed. How could she best explain how she felt about the prospect of receiving such a unique and probably expensive Vulcan necklace from someone she was pretending to date in exchange for physics lessons? If he were anyone else, she would wonder if he wanted something more serious.
"You do not approve of the necklace?"
"I do. It's so pretty, I just worry that it's too much. It's almost the kind of thing a real boyfriend would buy for his real girlfriend." She held her breath. Where had she found the nerve to say such a thing?
"I did not intend to imply anything by offering it to you. I merely saw it in a shop window and thought of you."
"You did?"
"Yes."
"Then of course I'll accept it. Happily." She gave him a nervous smile, pulled on the chain to lift it from the box, and asked, "Will you help me put it on?"
He stiffened and Amanda wondered if she crossed a line. She added, "Is that…appropriate in your culture? To put on a gift that someone just gave you?"
"Is it considered appropriate for humans?" he asked.
"It shows that you like what someone gave you."
"I see. Then I will assist you, if you wish."
She dropped the pendant into his palm, noting that he seemed to take great care in avoiding touching her. She lifted the hair off her neck and turned, surprised to detect a faint shaking in the chain as he worked to fasten it in place. She touched the stone again to admire its shine and turned to show him, but he was quickly backing away.
"Thank you so much, Sarek."
"You are welcome."
"Will you eat some of this cake with me?"
He cocked an eyebrow. "Is that customary?"
"What do you mean?"
"Isn't the cake for you?"
"Birthday cakes were definitely made for sharing," she insisted.
He pulled two plates from a cupboard and Amanda was about to ask where he kept forks when there was a knock at the door. Sarek straightened and flicked his eyes in the direction of the entry hall.
"Were you expecting someone?" she asked.
"I have never received visitors here," he replied. "Excuse me."
Sensing it would be weird to follow him to the door to greet his unexpected guest, she leaned against the counter and studied the cake, smiling at the neat green frosting that declared, "You were born on this day nineteen years ago." What a perfectly Vulcan thing to say. What she wouldn't have given to see the baker's face when Sarek asked for that on a cake.
From the next room she heard the creak of hinges, a long pause, and then Sarek utter, "Silek."
Another voice, a man's, replied, "Sarek."
They spoke in Vulcan, their words flowing at awkward angles, often breathy and sinuous, with some words that stood out as clipped and stuttered. What a strange language it was. Dying of curiosity about this Vulcan speaker on Sarek's doorstep, she peeked her head around the corner to catch a glimpse. Unfortunately, the stranger happened to be casually looking in the direction of the kitchen and from the fleeting look of shock on his face, he certainly hadn't expected to encounter the left half of a human woman's head.
Sarek must have sensed his visitor's momentary distraction and they exchanged a quick few words while Amanda silently pleaded with the universe to open up a vortex in the floor and allow her to disappear.
"She is Amanda," Sarek said in Standard.
It seemed like the best cue he could give to lure her out of the kitchen and into a very awkward introduction. Amanda slinked out from behind the corner. Instinct demanded she sport a welcoming smile, but her brain reminded her that the very Vulcan man with his very Vulcan haircut standing in the threshold probably wouldn't appreciate it.
"Amanda, this is Ambassador Silek," Sarek said, making a small gesture with his hand toward the man. "Ambassador Silek, this is Amanda Grayson."
Amanda gulped. An ambassador? She worked to twist her hand into the shape of the Vulcan greeting gesture but her fingers suddenly seemed too stupid to form a simple V-shape. "H-hello."
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Grayson," the ambassador replied dismissively.
Amanda had so many questions, each probably more impolite and inappropriate than the next. As she waited for one of them to explain what was going on, the man said, "I would like to speak with Sarek privately, if I may."
"Whatever you have come to say, you can say in front of her," Sarek insisted.
Ambassador Silek's eyes scanned Amanda, noticeably pausing at the vokaya pendant around her neck. He gave a small nod and began to speak in the Vulcan language again, but Sarek held up a hand to stop him. "Miss Grayson is not fluent in Vuhlkansu. It would be rude to hold a conversation in front of her that she cannot understand."
"Would it not also be rude to force your guest to witness our conversation, brother?"
Were her ears tricking her or had this man just referred to Sarek as his brother? Did he mean that in a more general way, like in the way monks or close friends might refer to each other? She took stock of his face and decided he really did look a lot like Sarek, with a slightly rounder face and stockier build.
"She is not my guest, she is my asha'kan."
Ambassador Silek's left eyebrow shot sky high and he returned his attention to Amanda. "I see."
"Uhm, m-maybe I should go," Amanda muttered, inching toward the door.
"Please stay," Sarek said, his tone noticeably softening. "You have been invited here. Ambassador Silek has not."
"I will not stay where I am not welcome," the ambassador responded. "I did not come here to create discord. I came to extend an invitation. Ambassador Skon and I depart for Vulcan in two weeks' time and you are welcome to join us."
"I have already told our mother I do not plan to be in attendance this year," Sarek replied. "And I never said you were not welcome in my home, merely that you have not been invited on this particular occasion."
"Very well. It was nice to meet you, Miss Grayson," said the ambassador.
She began to mumble the same thing in reply but both men raised their hands and exchanged the Vulcan salute with such speed and grace that it almost seemed choreographed and in the blink of an eye, the door was closing behind him.
Her eyes met Sarek's almost on instinct. "What was that about?"
"Clarify."
"How do you know an ambassador? What's he the ambassador of?"
"He is the Vulcan ambassador to Earth."
Amanda's eyes bulged. That kind of title sounded important. "And he's your brother?"
"That is correct."
"Your brother is the Vulcan ambassador to Earth?"
"If Silek is my brother and Silek is also the Vulcan ambassador to Earth, then by the simplest of logical deductions, you could conclude the Vulcan ambassador to Earth is my brother," Sarek replied, turning on his heel to make his way back to the kitchen.
She dismissed his sarcasm and followed him to the kitchen. "You don't seem happy to see him."
"He was not invited here."
"But he's your brother. Does he need an invitation?"
"Yes."
Both his tone and his answers were growing shorter, but Amanda couldn't help herself. "But it sounds like he came here to ask you to go home. Don't you want to go home?"
"I do not wish to discuss this with you."
The words were so sharp they almost cut. Amanda swallowed hard and knew the conversation was over, but one question remained. "What does asha—ashakan mean?"
"It does not translate well."
His eyes were dark and almost glowing with a ferocious emotion just beneath the surface. Vulcans insisted they didn't experience feelings, but Amanda was beginning to suspect this was a universal lie. Perhaps it was a lie so pervasive Vulcans even told it to themselves. So she sensed she was pressing her luck when she asked, "Can you try?"
He gave her a pointed look, took a slow breath, and eventually replied, "The closest approximation is lover."
Amanda chewed the inside of her cheek. "So I guess this means our fake relationship has moved on to telling our real families?"
"I wish to change the subject."
"And I don't. You just lied to your brother about us and you seem upset. I want to know if there's anything I can do to help."
"You can be of no help in these matters," he insisted. "And it is not your place to help."
That stung, but it also emboldened her. "You might be my fake boyfriend but that doesn't mean I can't have real concern about your feelings."
"Feelings are illogical," he countered, almost before the words had left her mouth. And there it was—the man who didn't feel feelings was clearly feeling feelings.
As tactfully as she could manage, she replied, "And lying about having a relationship to put off lusty coworkers and stir up family drama doesn't seem all that logical either."
"I encourage you to concern yourself with your own matters and leave me to mine," he said, turning his back to her as he began to prepare two pieces of cake.
This was rapidly descending into a disaster. He was fuming and she was boiling with frustration and anxiety. Why were Vulcans so closeted about everything? A minute ago he was giving her a fancy necklace for her birthday but the moment she started asking personal questions, his tune changed to a repetitive chorus of urging her to mind her own business.
She absentmindedly touched the vokaya pendant at her throat, suddenly moved by a shocking revelation. He was fast becoming a good friend and the fact that he was pushing her away was hurting her more than she wanted to admit. She doubted she would ever have romantic feelings for him, but she didn't like the idea that he might one day drop her from his life without warning. The last thing she wanted to do was end up like Adam, who presently seemed doomed to mope himself into an early grave.
"Can I just ask one more question? Then I promise I'll leave you alone," she said, careful to modulate her voice to sound as placid and neutral as possible.
"I will not speak of my family with you."
"You don't have to. It's not really about that so much as it's more of a generic question."
He turned to look at her. His face once again bore its typical impassive expression, which felt right and comforting. "What is your query?"
"What do you think about someone who meets another person and starts a romantic relationship with them even though they know they're already engaged to be married to someone else?"
His deadpan face shifted into evident surprise. "Why would you ask such a thing?"
"My friend was dating this Vulcan woman. They seemed really happy and he was completely in love with her and she went home to Vulcan and married some other guy without any warning. She had an arranged marriage. Is that something Vulcans really do? Arranged marriages?"
"Many Vulcans practice that custom, yes."
"Did you?"
"Yes."
Her cheeks grew even hotter. "Oh."
"But as I have previously stated, I am currently unattached to anyone for reasons I do not care to discuss. I presume discovering this common Vulcan practice was the reason for your line of questioning last night?"
She blushed. "Well, yes. But more than that, T'Vara knew she was engaged to someone else but she still came here and started a relationship with him, not because she unexpectedly fell in love but because she deliberately wanted to. She wanted to blow off logic for a while and see if she had the discipline to go back to it."
Sarek's brow rose as he took a moment to consider what he'd just heard. "I do not know this woman, but what she did to your friend was exceptionally cruel."
Amanda let out a slow breath. "So that's not something Vulcans would normally do?"
"It is certainly not something I would ever consider doing."
"Really?"
"Perhaps you will permit me to ask a question."
"Sure?"
"Why are you so concerned with the interpersonal struggles of other people?"
That was a good question. Why was she? "I don't know."
"Maybe it would be wise for you to reflect upon it. Would you like to consume some of your cake?"
She gripped her necklace again and nodded. She accepted the small piece of cake he'd cut for her and took a seat at his dining room table. "I'm sorry if I overstepped by asking about your family."
"You are human," he replied. "You are naturally inclined to ask incredibly personal questions."
"I hate that I feel like I started the first real fight of our fake relationship."
"Perhaps we might finish our cake and turn our attention to physics. What topics do you wish to review?"
Amanda sensed this sudden shift in conversation was going to be her only chance to duck out of their awkward conflict with any grace. She chose to seize it. She daintily licked icing off her fork and replied, "I'm trying to understand how magnetic fields and electric fields work."
They finished their cake and dove headlong into a discussion about field lines, charges, and poles. The harder she focused on physics, the more relaxed she became as all the awkwardness from the early afternoon turned into a distant memory. When the day faded into evening and city lights began to flicker through his window, he proposed preparing dinner, or as he called it, end meal.
Eager to maintain their steady and renewed rapport, she agreed. Much to her surprise, he actually prepared ingredients to cook rather than make use of his replicator. She offered to help but he insisted she consider why positrons and electrons couldn't exist in a magnetic field.
She sat on the couch and made a show of reviewing her notes, but she couldn't help but sneak glances at him every so often. If someone had asked her a month ago how she planned to spend her birthday, she certainly wouldn't have said she'd be curled up on the sofa of a sixty-four-year-old Vulcan man's apartment reviewing physics homework while he made a delicious-smelling casserole the old-fashioned way.
They ate a quiet meal together and she insisted on helping him clean up. When they returned to the couch, Amanda picked up her PADD and mentioned, "You've been tutoring me for seven hours."
"And your grasp on electromagnetism has markedly improved."
"Thank you," she beamed. "I was just wondering if you wanted me to go."
"Do you wish to leave?"
"No, I'm grateful for your help and I'm pretty sure if I go back to my dorm, Vedek and Mara will still be there. It's just that it's getting late and seven hours is a long time to pretend to be your girlfriend in public."
"One hour of our time this evening was devoted to preparing and consuming end meal and I do not believe it should be considered as tutoring. Additionally, I already owe you three hours and twelve minutes from the barbecue."
"I told you that you didn't owe me for that."
"And I told you I would honor our agreement."
"I don't like our agreement," she blurted.
"You wish to terminate it?"
"No, I just don't like feeling that we're literally trading our time back and forth. I feel like you're my friend and I would spend time with you, whether in public or private, even if you didn't tutor me. And don't mind pretending to be your girlfriend when you need me to be."
"So you propose a change to the arrangement?"
"Would that be okay if we just helped each other out when the other one needed it? I promise I won't take advantage of you, I—"
"That is acceptable," he interrupted. "Now that we are agreed, let us continue our review of absolute permittivity."
Amanda bit back a wry smile and nodded. She wasn't sure how much longer they studied, but when she woke up in the pre-dawn hours the next morning, her PADD and study materials were neatly stacked on the coffee table and there was a pillow under her head and a light blanket covering her body.