Author's Note: Thanks to SpockLikesCats who did the work for Chapter 10 and 11. This may be the last chapter for a few weeks. I have hit a bout of writer's block. And while I have the end result mapped out...I have no idea how to get there. So, in order to bridge the gap of where my protagonists are now, to where they need to go...I need to work. So, if you have ideas, drop me a line. For those who are reading faithfully, thank you. I originally planned for 20 chapters, so I am about halfway through. I would love to hear from everyone whose reading, so please feel free to drop a line through either review or PM.

Alekhine's Gun

Chapter 10

In the weeks following the formal at the embassy, Sarek had been extremely busy. His brother's idea of the assembly had, proven quite fruitful, and after a series of tri-lateral talks with Vulcan, the Andorians as a neutral party and the Humans, Earth was finally ready to resume direct talks.

He was greatly relieved. It had been a most intense time. His staff had worked diligently-Sakketh especially. The young Vulcan had proven his worth in gathering all the financial information as well as conferring with the Andorians to bring Earth back to the negotiating table.

Part of him also acknowledged that Dr. Grayson's presence that night had been an added bonus. He had under-estimated the impact of having her at the embassy, never fully convinced that her presence carried much weight, and yet, during the event, many a dignitary had spoken with her-most notably, those of Earth who had expressed surprise at her attendance, and her position within the embassy.

Again, his brother had proven to be correct. The event had been what was needed in order to bring Earth back to the negotiating table.

It was not too soon; the latest correspondence from Vulcan showed the high council was growing increasingly tense over the situation. From the weekly communiqué with T'Pau, he knew the situation was fractious at best and rapidly deteriorating. Still, he felt confident the situation would soon be resolved.

There was also a pang of guilt that ebbed at his consciousness: in the previous weeks, he had not spoken with Silek at all. He had been shut out of the familial bond, and there was currently a piece of Sarek that was not quite right without it. However, what had transpired between them had been building. They were not children and therefore, he would bear his portion of the responsibility for it.

Still, there was the issue of what Doctor Grayson had seen. She was uneasy around him. And he, around her.

The embassy itself was strangely still. As if it was suspended in a place of waiting….

Sarek rose from his desk and proceeded to his meditation corner. He needed to center his mind. He needed to calm his soul. There were important events coming up. He needed to focus in order to ensure the best possible outcomes.

.

.

"My adun, this is not like you. It is not logical to remain angry for such an extended period of time. It is not good for your mental health, nor is it logical to feud with your blood."

T'Nerual stood directly inside the Embassy director's office and slightly to the left of the closed doors. Silek looked upon her face, taking note of the thin line of her normally full lips. He did not need the marital bond to know that she was displeased. Although always Vulcan in her restraint, he could read his wife like no other.

"I came to Earth because you requested my presence. I did not come to manage a domestic dispute. Your staff is highly agitated."

"I am aware of the situation, T'Nerual. You are also aware the situation between Sarek and I has not changed."

"I cannot govern your personal affairs, Silek. However, as your mate, I tell you I do not agree with the position you have taken on this."

She was met with silence, and, acknowledging it, moved closer to her mate. Leaning down, she allowed her nose to gently nuzzle his. Silek rose from his seat as she moved close and tilted his head down so that their foreheads touched. He nuzzled back.

Eventually, she broke the embrace, to his lament.

"I will be sharing a meal with Dr. Grayson before traveling to San Francisco Hospital. A new neural regeneration device is being tested there. I am going to observe the beta phase."

Silek nodded in agreement as he watched her retreating back, and then moved to make his rounds of the Embassy departments.

II

T'Nerual walked into the afternoon sunlight and headed down the Embassy stairs. She waved away the orderly who asked her if she would have preferred a ride. She preferred to walk. Whenever she came to San Francisco, she took in the natural beauty of the city. She was well aware her kinsmen tended to lament the lack of order and slight haphazardness of the city's planning and structure; however, she had often found enjoyment in the seeming randomness of it all. It was a mental vacation from the rules of absolute logic, and, in a way, it too was very logical— the physical manifestation of the minds that had constructed it.

She had never been a utilitarian adherent to the logical strictures, preferring to use the teachings of Surak to the betterment of herself and Vulcan as a whole. She had been chosen for Silek as a child, and only later had she realized what an ideal match they were. Her parents had worried for their only daughter, who, unlike other females her age at the time, still had lapses in control. Her parents had been honored to have been called for a private audience with the sa-te-kru and his ko-et-te-kru-su, and she had been dressed and primped to perfection.

She could remember walking the vast halls of Na'nam-Kir, the gentle rumble of Mount Tarhana as she slept beneath the structure... It was there, in those halls, she was to meet he who would be her mate, one who was just as undisciplined as herself. And they would grow and support each other.

T'Nerual rounded the corner to the restaurant where she would meet Dr. Grayson. They had kept up a rapport for weeks, and she had been impressed by the Doctor's knowledge of the anthropological sciences. She was also sensitive enough to know the human female desired information from her. She, along with Sa'taan had both seen what had transpired at the reception weeks before. T'Nerual had seen Dr. Grayson watching Sarek follow the Argellian woman out. Later, Sa'taan had informed her of the doctor's witness to Sarek and Silek's sparring, and T'Nerual was a part of her mate's mind-she knew his thoughts, as if they were her own. Today, she would do an independent study.

.

.

Amanda sat at a back booth of the Bayview Fiesta. She had chosen this restaurant because it featured an expansive vegetarian menu as well as the fact that it was away from the embassy. For the past few weeks, she'd felt as if she had been walking on eggshells. There was noticeable tension in the halls of the facility and she knew she was not imagining it.

To add to her misery, her mind had been obsessed with the image of the Vulcan ambassador, and the way his eyes looked—like a cat's in the night, they were wide as orbs, full and dark, as he stared into hers.

It was torture. And not in the nauseatingly romantic type of way. She knew now without a doubt what was happening, no matter how hard she tried to fight it. She couldn't deny the Vulcan Ambassador had managed to stir something in her she honestly hadn't felt in three years.

Has it really been that long? She counted back. Yes. It HAD been that long.

So, who was to say that what her body and her mind were telling her were not the physical symptoms of a woman's …need?

Hell, if she had learned anything in the almost two months she'd been at the embassy, it was that all creatures, all humanoids—male and female, had…needs.

Yes, Amanda told herself as she waited. That is what this was, a need. A temporary itch. That's all.

She cut her musings short when she saw T'Nerual approaching the table. She stood up and waved as the Vulcan female spotted her.

Amanda couldn't help but observe the restaurant patrons as heads turned in the wake of the Vulcan female's passing.

After getting over her initial shock that Silek was married, she'd had a chance to really look at his wife during the planning conference. Now, with the Vulcan seated directly in front of her, Amanda had a rare moment of low-self-esteem.

T'Nerual was beautiful. Her brown skin radiated with an almost coppery undertone, her thick black hair was done up in one of the elaborate coifs Vulcan women tended to wear, and her fitted dress was a muted brown color with a high neck and fell right below the knee. She had donned a lovely short-sleeved shrug, revealing toned, slender arms. Across her waist was a thin gold belt that accented the curve of her hips.

She walked such natural, graceful elegance that Amanda couldn't help but feel like a frump, though she knew she was no slouch. It was really, that T'Nerual was just that gorgeous.

As soon as she had settled herself they began to converse.

"T'Nerual, may I ask you a question? I hope you will not take offense," Amanda said as she poured a glass of water from the crystal decanter on the table.

"There is no offense where none is intended."

"Please pardon my human ignorance, but I have never seen any Vulcans who look like you."

Amanda mentally kicked herself as T'Nerual tilted her head in the way Amanda had learned Vulcans tended to do when confused or pondering a question.

"You are referring to the color of my skin, no doubt."

"Yes."

"I am from the equatorial region of Vulcan. Our region receives the majority of 40 Eridani's rays. It is a natural evolutionary adaptation for our skin to be darker than the desert-dwellers of the north so that we can survive. As is true for your race, not all Vulcans are homogeneous."

The two women sat in silence as they sipped their waters, and then T'Nerual spoke.

"How has your experience been at the embassy thus far? Silek says you are a leading researcher in your field. Would you discuss your touch theory with me …?

The two females lost themselves in conversation and over an hour later, as T'Nerual finished relaying to Amanda the latest in neural psychology, they found themselves calling for their checks and rising to walk back to the embassy.

The sun was bright and it was cool, crisp day.

As they waited to cross the intersection, she watched T'Nerual raise her face to the sun and close her eyes briefly as they stood on a busy corner waiting to cross. Amanda had finally worked up the nerve to ask the Vulcan about what had happened between Sarek and Silek.

"T'Nerual, I wanted to ask you about something I witnessed a few weeks ago. Ambassador Sarek and Director Silek were…fighting…with lirpas...at least it seemed they were fighting..."

Inwardly she cringed. Today was certainly not her finest example of eloquence or tact. Still, her companion did not seem to mind, and their conversation had flowed freely. T'Nerual, like Silek, was much more open and she had put Amanda at ease.

They were once again walking and T'Nerual spoke.

"They were sparring, Dr. Grayson. All young Vulcans receive a basic education in the ancient defensive arts. Silek and Sarek have had extensive training. It is a common thing for Vulcan males to do."

Her voice did not change tempo and they walked in companionable silence for a while before Amanda spoke up.

"Did you receive training too?"

"Yes. I achieved a basic certification. It was required."

"It looks quite similar to our style of ballet—without the deadly weapons of course. When I was a child I took several classes. I was decent at it. But swimming is my exercise of choice."

"Ah yes. The submerging of oneself in a body of water. As you are probably aware…there are no such luxuries on Vulcan."

Amanda chuckled as they entered the embassy. Then she was struck by an idea.

.

.

The afternoon's brunch had proven quite fruitful, and T'Nerual now had a much better understanding of her mate's position. The doctor was curious. She was strong. Through their conversation T'Nerual sensed a sincerity and honesty in the human that was rare amongst academicians. Her interest in their culture was genuine, not contrived, as seen through her increased presence at the embassy. She had born witness to the violence of the Vulcan male, and T'Nerual knew the human still did not quite understand what she had seen, but soon, she would.

She had not exactly lied to Dr. Grayson when the human had asked about the sparring—that would have been un-Vulcan. Still, she knew the human was not ready for the truth of the matter. She was still learning, and certain knowledge was come to gradually.

She had not been blind to the fact that the doctor and her brother-in-law tended to avoid each other. It was like an unspoken line that neither dared cross. However…in this too…she saw great potential. They were kindred in loneliness. It was something neither would ever admit to, but was all too clear to her.

As she rose from her place in the living suite belonging to Silek, T'Nerual's mind brushed against his. He knew her thoughts. He always did. He agreed.

III

The evening found Amanda sitting at her desk in her apartment staring at a blank view screen. She'd been there for about an hour, pondering on what to put in her notes. She sighed, and ran a hand through her hair, then sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms.

Every week she was spending more time in the embassy, and less and less at home. She was…engrossed with everything she'd been absorbing and had not written down a single thing in over a week.

Her files were getting longer and longer; her thoughts, once orderly on the subject of Vulcan cultural habits, was were now a mass of conflicting ideas. What she thought she knew, she now realized…was truly off-base. With a sigh, she sat back up, and began to key in her entry:

Today I had lunch with T'Nerual, the wife of Silek. It came as a true surprise to learn that he was married, though their affinity for one another is so clear one would have to be blind not to see it. She is a brain-surgeon to boot, but despite her high standing and professional credentials, she, like her mate, is very open. Though her face is expressionless, she has natural warmth about her person which is comforting. I daresay I have made a friend. According to T'Nerual, the "fighting" match between the two brothers was "sparring," and not an anomaly…if that is indeed the case…I would NEVER dare to do anything to land me on the sharp end of a lirpa.

I feel I have been let into a secret club of sorts…seeing the faces and spaces of a group of people normally so closed off culturally from the rest of the federation. It's like I am becoming an "adopted" member…and therefore, being granted access to things not normally given to humans. The experiences I've had have been enlightening, and in the two and a half months I've been here…I admit to a certain human bias. The Ambassador's initial observation of my work, though I was loath to admit it before, in hindsight, is spot-on. It is one thing to be an outsider looking in. It's something else entirely to be in the middle.

I started this road intending to write an academic work on touch theory. However, I've long been off that road. I do not think limiting myself to just that for a 100-page document is enough. For what I have learned and the experiences I've had and what I have to say is far greater than a 100-word limitation.

At first, I was guarded, defensive of my work. Now, I can admit to a sense of self-righteousness and arrogance that was not becoming. To be frank about the situation, I am in awe. Vulcan, though rocky in its surface, is a molten flow of life and energy underneath, undulating, ever changing. I've come to realize her people are too. The more I discover, the more I want to learn. It's no longer learning about Vulcans…but learning what it means to be Vulcan.

About to save her entry, Amanda looked at her files. There was one for her professional studies, and one for her personal journal. With a quick flick of her finger, she placed the note in her personal files…

The next day saw her back at the embassy and searching for Sa'taan. She knew where to find him and sure enough, he was where she thought he would be, in the garden. Removing her shoes quickly, she rolled up the hems of her pant legs and began walking in his direction. He spotted her and nodded in acknowledgement. Beside him, T'Nerual stood from where she had been pruning the small tufts in the ground.

"Sa'taan -T'Nerual - I would like to learn a Vulcan martial-art."