Sarek went to the library, blinking when the stairs blurred halfway down. He listened closely to her as he descended, ignoring his brief lapse in sight, lingering at the doorway to hear whether Perrin had gone to sleep. It took a moment but a small squeak from the springs of her mattress reached him. He went in.

Over everything was a quiet veil of dust that parted as he crossed to the desk between the ornate, trimmed bookcases on the right side of the room. He pulled out a heavy chair tucked beneath the desk without effort and collapsed in it with an exhaustion of the mind: his consciousness seemed to view everything from the ground. Outside it was getting dark enough for the arms of the chair to seem like shadows.

Sarek lit a small lamp with an old lighter in one of the drawers to see properly. The whole library condensed to him as the muted light darkened the rest of the room.

He could not say that he had slipped back into the state he had possessed by for the two years following his wife's death, he was aware of his emotions and the waters of his mind were still as he studied the etches in the wood of the desk top. Yet he had not acted with Perrin in a purely diplomatic manner. He had conceded to a need that, it was clear to him now, would not be satisfied with her infrequent companionship alone. He brought the light closer to him and breathed deeply. Ignoring the creeks of the house, Sarek turned into himself.

Though such things are in my nature, to look to Perrin on the matter would be illogic—

There was no more rust on the chairs outside. He drew his hand along it and felt the smooth white paint under his hands with a feeling of content at the sensation. The air was cold though Perrin sat across from him playing in shorts and a loose blouse. He gathered his cloak closer around himself and listened to her; it pleased him as it always did. And the sound of her violin escaped into the wild hills, not returning for him to savor muted as an echo as in the house behind him. Sarek asked Perrin to play again. She smiled and did.

And he knew looking on this scene—captured by it, a part of it, feeling the sensations of himself in the chair though he could see over everything simultaneously—it was meant to be an extension of a life having been lived in that way for a while. A Vulcan lyre rested near his feet and a few statues of Vulcan art were scattered through the field beyond the château; he knew his books of Surak's life and teachings were in the library and a patch of Plomeek grew out along the path leading to the house, their house. He looked at Perrin and knew here she was his wife. He had given her a ring like those Amanda sometimes had looked at longingly on the human diplomats she met after marrying him. On Sarek's left hand was an identical one.

When the playing stopped he went to her and bent down to kiss her without hesitation. He lifted her slightly against him from the chair; setting her down when she became less eager, breathless. He studied her eyes and allowed her to rest until she reached back towards his lips and bit softly on them before picking up where they'd stopped.

"I love you Sarek." She spoke through the kiss. The world was shaded over with colorless gray in response. Sarek could only give one answer.

"I cannot return it."

"I know, but this is enough." Answered Amanda, now resting back against the chair instead of Perrin, no ring on her finger. Around them was her small apartment in San Fransico but her wrought iron bed, row of plants on the stills, and Alice in Wonderland figurines had been replaced with his own things entirely. They so filled up the space that Sarek could conceive of no way to fit her things in.

"This is enough."

He woke up still in the library. Snuffing the lamp, Sarek decided to meditate in his room to get away from his dream.


Picturing calming waves helped as she stood in the kitchen making coffee; that image wouldn't hold though. She went out to the patio and ignored the fields of mint her neighbor had told her was something her father had started shortly after being released. They expanded widely to cover the view just beyond the house and really only be seen at the edges of the tall grass dwarfing the sprigs if you did not walk through it as she had when she'd arrived two days ago.

But she couldn't stop her eyes from catching it while the scent wafted up to the house or her mind remembering when he'd kissed her back.

All night she twisted between wishing Sarek would come into her room again to still the waters and knowing, like the day at his villa when she'd seen the extent of his grief, he would never speak of it outside of another break down she could never wish for. Picturing that day on Vulcan when her father died and when she realized enough about herself to finally be sure she couldn't help people the way she wanted to, which vied for attention against other currents sapping her will, Perrin saw the mental tremors seeping into her hands, shaking her coffee over her thick socks. Mindlessly, she dropped the cup onto the stone and walked off, wringing her hands to keep them steady. She didn't want to focus on anything that would veer too close to those things eating away at her. I cannot think about it, ignore it, ignore it; you know you can't handle thinking about it now and the lawyers will be here in the afternoon, she reminded herself. They needed to go over her father's will and transfer Federation benefits.

Deeply focused on keeping her mind blank, Perrin realized standing over Sarek still asleep in bed that she'd wandered into the attic. She wasn't surprised she had; her father never liked the attic of their country house and she had went up here after her mother died in the evenings for a few minutes or so almost everyday. She liked the silence, the calm. Sarek's sleeping with his hands evenly at his side and his robes thin but formal fit the space well. Embarrassed she'd wandered up and even stood staring down at Sarek, Perrin backed away from the bed to leave. As she did, she saw two boxes in the corner of her eye on top of a chest. She recognized the left one.

"It was my intention to give it to you but I became uncertain after your father's death on Vulcan." Perrin heard Sarek's voice shift and looked back at him sitting on the edge of the bed, not quite meeting her eyes. He nodded to the box, gesturing a hand for her to take it. Wanting to get down stairs quickly, half-thinking of the previous night and worried he was too since his face appeared extremely guarded, Perrin lifted the lid slightly to check it's contents. She slammed it back down and picked up the box, holding a little behind herself.

"Is there something wrong?" Sarek asked, not moving and still looking beyond her.

Perrin choked on her words. "I just—simply realized I should throw them out." Opening the box away from her so Sarek could see, she hoped that would make what was inside seem less important, she showed him her old things.

"A Starfleet badge. What is the purpose of the papers?" Perrin gave a quick glance down.

"This was a fake diploma, a prank one of the other students played. The rest are some important class notes." Perrin waited for a reply when he closed his eyes after she spoke.

"I trust you will not be throwing out the box. I had noticed one of similar character in a museum in Washington D.C." Sarek stated.

"I will leave it here when we leave." Sarek's stare became more distant in response, which Perrin noticed with panic. Her thoughts from earlier were pushing ahead, her loose idea of Sarek staying falling away completely when a small Vulcan ship appeared in the field, something that did not seem affect him at all.

"I was not aware there was an expectation I would remain for an extended time. I will return to Vulcan today, I saw no reason to remain with my respects paid and the investigation satisfied."

Perrin took a while to reply. "There wasn't any expectation, but it would be only logical for you to tell me you were planning on leaving the day after the funeral."

"Why would this be logical?"

"Because, ambassador, you were married to a human and have worked among them for years. Surely you would consider staying as it would be the human way, which you logically would know." She averted her eyes. "I don't expect humanness from you but I do expect you to consider some things that would only be diplomatic."

Perrin wanted to continue to explain but she knew all that was left was her pain and unless Sarek questioned it, she had no intentions of bringing it up to him. His eyes finally looked to hers and seemed concerned but she couldn't trust her instinct to view his expression that way. It seems I cannot trust my judgment still, she mourned to herself, remembering so many things and the day, her father's trail, on which she wished she'd definitively learned that lesson so she wouldn't have to now.

"Perrin why do you refer to me as ambassador? Do you assume my leaving is a sign of deception? Honesty is a prevailing trait of the Vulcan race; I have not lied to you." Said Sarek.

"I did not assume so." Looking outside as his aides came out of the ship, she continued through the increasing coarseness of her throat. "Live long and prosper ambassador, it seems I woke up a little to early this morning." Perrin smiled and yawned. She went back to her room and stood in the middle so she wouldn't have to look directly out the window to see when the ship took off. Sarek left an hour later, and she heard him slowly pass her door before quickly meeting his aides and departing. With the house empty the past few days came crashing onto Perrin's shoulders, heaving her onto her knees with the weight of Sarek's departure added to it all.