The Symphony

As it happened, one pleasant evening soon spawned another. She invited him to the symphony the next week. Some of her favorite European composers were going to be featured, and she had a hunch he would enjoy the music. It was a good opportunity for more cultural exchange, and Amanda was finding she genuinely enjoyed Sarek's company.

She met him at the embassy before the performance. "It is agreeable to see you this evening, Amanda," he greeted her.

"And likewise." Amanda smiled warmly at him. They walked toward the symphony hall engrossed in pleasant conversation.

Later, as Sarek watched the instrumentalists on stage, Amanda was drawn to watching him. She noted how closely attuned he was to the music, how he nodded appreciatively at certain difficult passages, things a casual listener might not notice. As the orchestra approached a series of these in one piece, she noticed he had tilted his head back slightly and closed his eyes, inwardly focusing on the performance.

Amanda was fascinated. Sarek was a quintessentially logical being; she saw that regularly as he conducted his ambassadorial duties efficiently and without the needless clutter of emotion. Yet it was clear that he also intimately understood at least one form of art that could be considered deeply emotional, and that his understanding was quite probably deeper than her own.

It struck her just how sensual his posture was. Her eyes traced the lines from his elegant ears to his strong jaw and down the tendons of his neck. He was… beautiful. And his nearly physical appreciation of the music stirred a reaction deep within her core.

She did not know how old he was – it was difficult to tell with Vulcans – although she had heard he was quite young to have been appointed as full ambassador. That did not seem to matter at the moment. Whatever his age, she had to admit to herself that she found him more than just attractive, but… provocative, in a heady, sensuous way. Very.

Discomfited by the strength of her own response, she tried to quietly draw a deep breath as she looked back to the stage. Evidently that small sound was enough to draw Sarek's attention, for he turned to look at her, a question in his eyes. Amanda smiled weakly back, hoping that he hadn't noticed her staring at him. Somehow, in that private moment, she felt almost voyeuristic watching him so deeply absorbed.

Afterward, as they walked, her curiosity made her venture, "You seemed quite familiar with the music. Had you heard those selections before?"

"I have not. However, since the foundations of music are essentially mathematical, many of the musical forms and conventions of our two worlds are similar in important respects. Although," Sarek continued, "I find the music of Earth typically more emotional in nature than the music of Vulcan."

Amanda giggled. "Human music, emotional? So what's your point? Although I notice with your choice of words you aren't saying that Vulcan music is unemotional. Am I right?"

"One will occasionally encounter compositions that appear to possess emotional content. It is carefully controlled, however…"

Their banter continued all the way back to her apartment, beginning a series of regular outings to a variety of musical venues.

Golden Gate Park

Amanda and Sarek walked through Golden Gate Park the next day at lunch, discussing the latest volume of Vulcan literature that he had given her. They were on the other side of the pond from the embassy when the sky darkened with a sudden autumn squall. Very soon it would be raining steadily.

"I guess we'll have to head back inside," she said to Sarek, assuming that he would not wish to remain out in these conditions. "Although I did bring an umbrella," she added, then regretted that she had, as she imagined the two of them trying to squeeze underneath it. To her surprise and dismay, Sarek replied. "That would be acceptable. There is no need to change our plans."

Amanda groaned a little inside. Could he not have realized that we will be practically on top of one another under my umbrella? Sure, she found him attractive, and might have welcomed the situation were he a Human male, but he was Vulcan and she sincerely doubted he would find the close quarters appropriate.

Thinking quickly as the first big drops began to fall, she handed Sarek the umbrella and flipped up the hood on her jacket, maintaining the space between them. But the rain was soon falling at an angle as the wind picked up, hitting her squarely in the face.

Noting the situation immediately, Sarek stopped. "Amanda, attend." He stood with the umbrella held out, expectantly. Her eyes widened slightly at his commanding tone but she complied; she was getting soaked.

Once underneath, Amanda decided she was the one who found their proximity inappropriate. His broad shoulders combined with the umbrella's limited diameter put them close enough that they were practically touching. She could smell his scent, hinting of musk and sandalwood, could feel the heat radiating from his body, and could feel her own pulse hammer with her self-consciousness. What she really wanted to do was move closer, not further away. A stolen sideways glance told her that he at least did not appear perturbed (although who knew, really?). Seeing no viable alternative, she decided she might as well accept the situation, and she relaxed a bit. It's not exactly unpleasant.

Sarek glanced down at Amanda's head just in front of him. He had sensed her unease and now, greater calm. He, too, relaxed somewhat, his stride finding a cadence that was comfortable for them both. It is logical that I protect her from the rain.

Another hour passed before they turned back toward the embassy.

ooo

Once back inside their amiable conversation continued until they reached Sarek's office where Soran was waiting for him. Amanda excused herself and was headed back to her own office when Sarek realized he was still holding her umbrella.

"Amanda, att—" he began but stopped himself at once. "Dr. Grayson. Your umbrella," he re-phrased carefully, stepping to return it to her. Soran looked at him curiously for a moment, but said nothing.

A moment later, two completely drenched guards made their way inside the embassy lobby, in search of dry attire and some understanding of why the interaction between their superior and the Human researcher required such a thorough soaking.

Security

Two nights later a brick crashed through a ground floor window at the embassy. The Vulcan Embassy was housed in an older building, and apparently not all of the original glass windows had been replaced with transglass. No one was injured and the security alarms performed as specified. Stanek and his team went on alert, however. The brick had been wrapped in a piece of paper scrawled with the words "Universal Translator" and "Centauri" inside a red circle with a diagonal line through it. It did not take the Vulcan delegation long to ascertain the symbol's meaning, and the security team quickly outlined the logical steps to take in response.

The next morning Stanek arrived at an unexpected roadblock to the implementation of his plans.

"I do not agree that every member of the Universal Translator team needs to be trailed at all times by a security guard!" Amanda fumed.

"Dr. Grayson," Stanek began, "it is logical. There was an attack on the embassy with hostility directed toward the Universal Translator as well as the Centauri Accord. It stands to reason that additional security for the device's development team is a wise precaution."

"Stanek, a single brick is not 'an attack,'" Amanda replied in exasperation. "It was probably a stupid prank, or somebody's drunken outburst. I certainly won't stop anyone else on the team who wants a security escort, but I don't think it's necessary and I don't want one."

"But Doctor, you are one of the principal researchers. I must insist on it."

"You can't force me to—" Amanda began, then stopped when she saw Stanek's self-confident look. "Oh no you don't. Come on. We're going to settle this right now!" She strode purposefully out of her office with Stanek trailing behind, confused.

"Doctor?"

"I want to hear what Sarek has to say about this," Amanda declared firmly.

"Doctor, we can make an appointment to see the Kevet-dutar, but I doubt he will see us immediately," Stanek objected. One did not simply barge into Sarek's office.

"Oh, I bet he'll see us," Amanda replied confidently.

Stanek was befuddled by the Human linguist. She possessed the same facts as he, yet appeared to draw completely different conclusions from the data. She did not behave logically.

Sarek was on a vid conference when he heard the voices in his outer office. He recognized Amanda and Stanek, both speaking to Sev. Amanda sounded…agitated? The voices continued until his call ended, at which point Sev immediately comm'd him. "S'haile, there is a matter that requires your attention."

Sarek stepped into the outer office. "What is the issue?"

Stanek, appearing somewhat surprised to see his superior right away, spoke first. "S'haile, Doctor Grayson is refusing an appropriate security detail in spite of the logic of it, in light of recent events."

"The logic of it is what I'm disputing," came Amanda's spirited rebuttal. "The translator team has done nothing wrong; we don't deserve to have our movements restricted. Especially not for something as trivial as a rock through a window."

"It was an act of aggression."

"Oh, for Pete's sake," Amanda cried, throwing her hands in the air. "This is Earth, you know. I realize it's a bit more chaotic than Vulcan, but it's not a war zone. Thankfully, it's not a police state, either – and I don't want to feel like I'm working in one!"

"I believe I understand the problem," Sarek interjected calmly, deflecting a curious impulse to go to Amanda's side. "I am being asked to broker yet another peace agreement, correct?" he drily asked the combatants. Focusing on the security chief, he asked, "Stanek, what patterns have you and T'Vey analyzed in the most recent media scans?"

"Although local metropolitan media remain largely unchanged, in outlying areas over the past three Terran weeks there has been an increase of 23.24% in negative editorial attention being focused on the Universal Translator and Vulcan's involvement with it," Stanek informed him. "In addition, negative popular opinion toward the Centauri Accord, which was also identified in the attack, has remained relatively steady during this time at 35.7% of the population opposed."

Amanda appeared ready to debate the merits of this particular point as well but Sarek held up a hand. "A moment, Doctor. Stanek, do you have any information as to the likely perpetrator of the yesterday's incident?"

"Not at this time, S'haile. We have turned the evidence over to the local authorities; they are assisting. The known list of groups expressing opposition to either the translator or the accord will of course be considered, in addition to any new possibilities we identify."

"Your work is commendable, Stanek." Sarek nodded, dismissing the aide. He then turned to Amanda. "Perhaps we could have a word?" he inquired graciously.

Not long after, Amanda re-emerged from Sarek's office fairly sure she had become the latest victim of Sarek's silver diplomatic tongue. Although curiously, she really didn't mind. A little added security, outside the embassy and primarily at night, wouldn't be overly intrusive and wouldn't hurt, especially since an untoward occurrence would reflect poorly on the translator team's Vulcan hosts. He had asked her to meet with him over dinner later in the week to review the editorial trends that T'Vey and Stanek had been tracking. She was looking forward to the added insight. Overall, it seemed a reasonable compromise.

A few hours later, Stanek's expression could have been called incredulous, if he were not a Vulcan of course, as he explained the outcome of his security discussion with Dr. Grayson to T'Vey. "She was adamantly opposed to any additional security. Osu Sarek merely asked her to consider the matter, and she agreed. Sarek did not present her with any additional facts, yet her opinion changed dramatically when she spoke with him. I do not understand these Humans."

"Perhaps that is why Osu Sarek is the kevet-dutar," T'Vey surmised.

For his part, Sarek was satisfied. Additional security would be provided to the translator team, including Amanda; Amanda was not displeased (a situation he found surprisingly unpleasant); and she would be joining him for dinner in three nights' time… to discuss the need for additional security, of course. All very logical outcomes.

Terran Holidays I

Amanda smiled bemusedly as she looked around the Universal Translator office. It was only 1700 hours, but the departmental holiday party was already in full swing. Some joker (Rob, probably) had hung mistletoe in every doorway. As she observed the rum-and-eggnog-fueled revelry going on about her, she had no doubt that any number of regrettable incidents would occur before the evening was over – hopefully none that would disgrace their Vulcan hosts. She, however, had plans to escape; she had promised to show Sarek a variety of holiday traditions from different Earth cultures on display around the city tonight.

She grabbed her coat and was saying her good-byes when she noticed that he'd arrived, standing a bit uncertainly at the office entrance, not sure what to make of the scene within. He saw her, and took a step inside. Then she realized where he was standing – underneath one of the innocent-looking green sprigs. Worse, Charlene from reception – who had been patrolling these doorways all afternoon – was making a beeline in his direction.

Amanda didn't quite run, but she moved quickly enough to head off the predatory Charlene and gently pushed Sarek out the doorway, hands on his chest. He looked down at her, perplexed, suppressing the odd burst of pleasure he felt at her touch. "Sorry," she said, a little breathlessly. "I didn't want you to be accosted without warning." She pointed to the mistletoe. "First winter holiday tradition to be explained: Any couple finding themselves underneath a hanging mistletoe is supposed to kiss." He merely lifted a brow.

They were walking out now, and she continued to elaborate. "A kiss underneath the mistletoe is supposed to signify either deep romance or lasting friendship. We think the tradition originated with the ancient Greeks or in Scandinavia. In any case, it was popularized in the mid-18th century in English-speaking Europe and North America."

"I see." Sarek contemplated the Human practice of kissing. It was not Vulcan. What would it be like to kiss her? Then, deadpan, he asked, "Are all of the traditions we are going to observe tonight of a similar theme?"

"No!" she exclaimed, instantly embarrassed. Then she caught his eye and saw he was teasing. "You!" She slapped at his arm in jest. "Would you like it if they were?" she added, now teasing him. He arched an elegant brow again and resumed walking, eyes unreadable. Something told her, though, that while it would have been un-Vulcan of him to say yes, he definitely had not said no.

They walked through the city that evening, Amanda his tour guide, his security detail following discreetly behind (a fact for which Sarek was illogically grateful). As they explored the many Human holiday celebrations on display, Sarek found them interesting, but found his guide far more so. Her mannerisms, the enthusiasm with which she recounted the history behind the various traditions they observed, the way her eyes brightened when she looked at him… He was, not for the first time, fascinated. As he had noted before, she was quite different than he, but their common interests were also many and varied. Sarek, so accustomed to leading, planning and anticipating, just followed that night, quite satisfied with simply accompanying her.

For Amanda's part, she was once again thoroughly charmed by her companion's gracious and elegant attention. As the evening progressed, she imagined him as some long-ago prince – and then promptly chided herself for such a ridiculous flight of fancy. Even so, she did notice that his attentiveness never wavered as they wandered, and she basked in its warm glow.

Terran Holidays II

She had gone away for the Christmas holiday. She had returned to the Boston area to spend it with a close friend from Harvard, she had told him. While in previous years Sarek had welcomed the quiet that descended for a few days in San Francisco during the frenetic winter holiday season, this year it proved a bit too subdued. As he meditated on this unexpected assessment he discovered the source of his disquiet was, in fact, her absence. He realized he looked forward to her daily presence, the sound of her laughter in the halls. This was, of course, illogical, and he meditated further on that, although not wholly successfully – an uncharacteristic result for him.

Thus, on the morning of the 28th, still disquieted and now further irritated at his failure to eradicate the feeling, Sarek was contemplating visiting the embassy gym for a longer-than-usual session when he heard footsteps in the hall. He recognized those footfalls immediately.

He arose from his desk as soon as her face peeked around his door. "Amanda. It is agreeable to see you here."

"Hi, and Merry Christmas." She smiled, almost shyly. "I came back a couple days early. I had things to do and Marcia was busy with work…"

"Indeed." He tilted his head in inquiry. "Today is one of our usual lunch days. You will join me?"

"Of course. I didn't want to miss it."

The disquiet was gone.