A/N: Another short one.

Usual disclaimer: I don't anything Star Trek, I don't anything My Fair Lady. I just like giving the characters lives and new situation in chapters named after lyrics from show tunes.

"These are just inferior plants, of course," Sulu told the three-man sewing circle. "I wanted to save the best for the real deal, you know?"

Even made up of "inferior" blooms, Sulu's arrangement was gorgeous. The simple bouquet consisted of ten clusters of the deep orange Burning Love interspersed with five brighter colored Michigan lilies. He'd wrapped a piece of creamy-looking silk around the fuzzy stems and tied the whole thing with a green ribbon pulled from his trousers pockets.

"Because, I know she likes green, too," he explained. "And really, you don't want an all orange wedding."

Spock nodded.

"Indeed, the clothing Nyota's mother has selected for me incorporate several shades of green, as well as an off-white similar to that with which you have wrapped that most satisfactory bouquet," he told them.

Kirk paused his beading to stare at his first officer.

"Her mother chose your wedding clothes?" he asked, clearly incredulous.

McCoy sneered over the nearly-finished veil.

"The three of us have spent the last I-don't-know-how-long making a god-damned dress and you think it's weird that her mama's picked out his clothes?" he asked scathingly. "You're just not right, boy."

Then he turned to Sulu.

"And he," the doctor said, jabbing a finger at Spock, "adores the flowers. He's just not comfortable enough around you to say so. Shoulda heard him while you were gone. He was using contractions."

The three humans all laughed at this. Even Spock couldn't help a half-smile from taking over his mouth, this time.

"How did you know?" Nyota Uhura asked her future father-in-law.

She'd hoped the visit to the Uzhau would be short, but now she found herself wanting to linger in the company of this man, who seemed so coldly serene, but whom she was beginning to realize was more like her k'diwa than she'd realized.

Sarek didn't answer right away.

"It is customary, among humans, for the host to provide a guest with refreshment," he said first. "Both Spock and Amanda spoke often of your predilection for sampling teas and tinctures unfamiliar to your palate. I have with me one that we have found grows abundantly on our new homeworld. I do not believe you tried it during either of your visits there. Will you share some with me tonight?"

Unsure of what else to say, Uhura simply nodded her assent.

With a gesture she didn't quite catch, he caused a table to rise from the floor between their chairs.

"It is, of course, Vulcan custom, that a guest prepares refreshment for his or her host," he said as he rose and walked over to a hidden cabinet and pulled out tea-making implements and a tray. "During my tenure as a diplomat, and during my marriage to Amanda Grayson, I learned to do many things that are not customary to Vulcans."

Before long, he returned to Uhura's side and placed his tray on the table. A small steaming pot and two tiny cups awaited their use.

"The tea must steep four point three minutes before it reaches its optimal brewing point," Sarek said as he took his seat again. "You wanted to know how I know what my wife said to you regarding your marriage to my son."

He paused again to regard the young woman he believed meant as much to his son as his wife had meant to him.

"Another thing I learned from my time with Amanda was that sharing information within a marriage – even things that may seem to be of no consequence – can significantly increase the joy the couple shares."

He leaned over to pour tea into each of the miniature cups, then gestured for her to take one. After she had complied, he picked up his own. They both faced forward, neither looking at the other as the steam flowed up to stroke their faces.

"My mate spoke of you often," Sarek of Vulcan told her. "Over the course of your acquaintance, she grew to love you, and told me so."

Her heart full from his revelations, Uhura waited to see if he would say more, but when he took a sip of his tea, she realized he had finished his explanation.

She also sipped and wondered at the explosion of deliciously spicy flavors dancing on her tongue. Vulcans did not generally care for spices, she thought vaguely. Most of her mind, however, was occupied with repeating Sarek's words over and over.

Over the course of your acquaintance, she grew to love you.

She sipped again.

My mate spoke of you often.

She sipped and sipped.

I could not have chosen better for him.

The tea was gone when she brought the cup to her lips again. She placed it on the tray then reached into a pocket of her Vulcan robes.

"Ambassador Sarek," she said, looking at him for first time since takin her tea cup. "I have something to show you."