Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thank you so much to Laura 2468, wolfen281, mintandtea, thaifighter30, DarkPrincesa, L'alchemiste de Castille, einzel and the anon reviewer for reviewing!

"Genevieve..."

I was stuck in front of a mob of reporters, holoimagers flashing in my face, questions and catcalls hurled at me from every direction. Every person in the crowd was laughing, pointing at me as if I were a clown humiliating myself for the sake of an audience. I tried to run, but my feet were glued to the concrete.

"Genevieve, you must rise..."

"Look at her! She fell in love with a cold-hearted Vulcan, and he'll never love her back!"

"What a stupid little girl! Doesn't she know Vulcans don't love like us humans do?"

"I'd take her myself, but she wants to whore herself out to a cold fish alien!"

Their insults became wilder, more obscene, and I felt a rock hit my forehead. Another rock flew and hit me in the back as I tried to flee (I was finally able to move my feet), but soon I was under a hailstorm of rocks, the crowd chanting death threats at me as they stoned me to death...

"Genevieve!"

I gasped as I awoke, my body drenched in sweat, and I felt tears on my cheeks. More bubbled to the surface, making my eyes water as they waited to be unleashed, but I dashed them away. I was so tired...

My exhausted brain finally realized that Soval was hovering over me, a look of concern on his face.

"Are you all right?" he whispered, tucking a stray lock of my unkept hair behind my ear. "You were crying in your sleep."

"I'm fine," I replied swiftly, drawing the cover up to my chest. "Bad dream." I peered over to the alarm clock with bleary eyes, and I made out 0358. "Are you ok? Do you need anything? What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong, Genevieve. We must rise to make the first meal, you and I. Once you are up, I will wake Oliver as well. Max and Emily are caring for a young child and are exempt. But the guest rite cannot be ignored."

"Guest rite?" I repeated, covering a yawn with my hand.

"We are obligated to make breakfast, are we not?"

I shook my head. "Humans don't have a guest rite in this part of the planet. Mom would really love your help with breakfast, sure, but she's not going to start until 0700 or so."

Soval frowned. "Your mother makes breakfast?"

"Yes, she really likes cooking." I yawned again and leaned back into the pillows, wiping my watering eyes.

I could feel his gaze raking over me, and he sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning down to speak so he would not have to raise his voice. "What were you dreaming about that caused you such grief?"

"An angry mob," I replied dryly. I wriggled under the covers to get comfortable and closed my eyes.

I could almost see him in my mind's eye, raising an eyebrow and shaking his head in incredulity. But then I felt a warm hand cup my cheek, and a thumb brushed away what tears remained on my skin.

"Perhaps we can discuss it more later," he whispered, and his voice seemed to come from far away. I could feel myself slipping easily back into slumber, and the notion came to me that waves of sleep and peace pulsated from Soval's hand, which he had not moved. My limbs felt heavy, my eyelids like lead, and the last thing I remember before drifting off was turning my head and nuzzling my nose into his palm. I sighed in contentment and gave myself over to the embrace of sleep...

"Yes, Genevieve, sleep now...forgive me for waking you..." His lips brushed lightly over my forehead, and I groaned.

"It's no trouble, sweetheart." I arched into his touch as his lips then traced a line from my temple to my jaw. His eyes were dark as coals as they met mine, and he leaned down, his gaze fixed on my lips, until warm petals slid sensuously over my mouth, capturing me in a deep, lustful kiss. I made a noise of enjoyment into his mouth and gripped his hair, making a fist as his tongue probed for mine. I was in heaven, his weight descending on me like a warm blanket, but all too soon he was pulling away, slipping away from me.

"Come back!"I begged. "Please."

He leaned back down.

"Later, my loveliest Genevieve," Soval said, his voice a low purr in my ear. "I will leave you be for now. I must attend to breakfast, and as much as I wish to linger here...this is only a dream."

I awoke with a start, and the room was empty. The bed still had an impression of where he had sat earlier, but the spot was cool, devoid of his heat. I sighed into the pillows, staring helplessly up at the ceiling. Would I ever be free of this torment?

…

I didn't say anything when I first saw Soval at breakfast, smirking over a pot of plomeek broth. My mother, having been relieved of duty, was relaxing at the table, sipping her morning brew and flicking through the newsfeeds. So it seemed Soval had gone through with the 'guest rite' he had spoken of at four this morning. I padded over to him.

"What are you smirking about?" I groused, but offered him a small smile when he turned to me.

"I will keep my own council on that at the moment. Did you sleep well?"

"Well, that nightmare didn't help too much, but after my rude awakening by a certain somebody, I slept like a champ."

"Oh?" he pressed, raising an eyebrow at me. I thought I saw a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Did you have pleasant dreams after you went back to sleep?"

"I don't remember," I lied. "No nightmares at least. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, quite well. The water shower relaxed me thoroughly, and I am well rested this morning."

I slipped past him to get at the fresh coffee waiting on the counter. "I'm glad to hear that. When do you want to leave today?"

He shrugged. "At your convenience. Whenever you are ready, I am prepared to depart...with your parents' leave, of course."

"Ok," I said, and I sat down at the table and sipped my drink. Soval continued supervising breakfast, but I couldn't watch him with my mom at the table. Soon Callie came running down the stairs, followed by an exhausted-looking Emily and Max. Dad was up soon afterwards, and breakfast was ready. Perhaps attracted by the foreign smell, Oliver came into the kitchen once everyone else had gotten a bowl of plomeek, and he took the last remaining seat.

After my mother took several bites of her broth, she drew Soval into a conversation on how to make this dish, and that led to a discussion on Vulcan cooking techniques. Dad and Max and Oliver tore into the morning news, and Emily was occupied with making sure Callie didn't spill broth on her pajama shirt.

I ate my breakfast in silence, eyes on my bowl, lost in my own thoughts. Last night's dreams weighed heavily on my mind, particularly the second one. I thought I was doing okay on controlling my crush on the ambassador, but this dream threw me for a loop. I couldn't help but ponder whether real Soval kissed as well as his dream counterpart, but I shoved the thought from my mind and focused on breakfast. I would be receiving my finals schedule this morning, and I had a week to study; my main priority (until the first week of December was over) had to be passing all my tests, not stressing about a crush that wouldn't go anywhere.

"Genevieve!"

I looked up at Soval, frowning, and I realized the entire table was staring at me.

"What?"

"We've been trying to get your attention," Mom said, tilting her head in concern. "Are you ok? Do you not feel well?"

"I'm fine, mom, just thinking about finals." I went back to my breakfast, finishing it off while everyone went back to their conversations, but I could still feel eyes on me as I walked to the sink and rinsed out my bowl. I could tell without looking that it was Soval, but I didn't dare look up at him, but rather slipped away to pack my bags and make my bed.

I was just putting the pillows back on the bed when I heard a knock at the door, and Soval slipped in. "Are you well, Genevieve?" he asked, taking up the other half of the covers.

"I'm fine. Just thinking about all the studying I have to get done this week, that's all."

He raised an eyebrow, then neatly tucked the cover under the pillow. "I do not believe you. Something is bothering you, something more than your final examinations. Please...I want to help you if I can. I am hear to listen if you require it. You know this."

I softened at that admission, but I still shook my head. "This isn't something you can help me with. But thank you for saying that. I appreciate it."

"It is the truth," he replied. "It displeases me to see you unhappy."

"I'm not unhappy, it's just that...well, some things don't go my way. But that's life, and neither you nor I can change that. It's ok."

He glared at me, obviously not wholly convinced, but he dropped the subject and offered to carry my things down the stairs for me.

"Thanks," I said, waving him on, and I sighed as soon as he was out of sight. He might be on to me, and if he ever found out that I had feelings for him...that would be the end of my friendship with him, the end of being close to him, and I knew in my heart of hearts that I couldn't bear that right now.

…

I nervously adjusted the hem of my dress and stepped out into the dusk of the courtyard. I paused to observe the scene before me, first stepping to the side so I wouldn't block the door.

The courtyard was dimly lit by lanterns and candlelight, the cool autumn evening warmed by the heat lamps along the walls. About twenty tables stood around the center circle, most occupied by several Vulcans each. But I spied an empty table off to the left side and I made for it, slipping into a chair, my back to the wall.

From this vantage point, I could see everyone and watch this ceremony without disturbing any of the staff. And since I doubted they could smell me from here, no one's nose would be offended by my presence.

I leaned back in my chair and stared absentmindedly at the head table and its many unoccupied seats. A few older Vulcans I didn't recognize were seated at the ends, but Sorak was sitting two seats from the middle chair. He caught my eye and I smiled, waving in greeting. The aide paled, suddenly looking worried, and he gestured blatantly to the seat to his left, a clear invitation to join him; I shook my head with a frown.

"T'Sai, may we sit here?"

I turned to the voice and saw four men standing before me, their hands clasped behind their backs, stiffer than soldiers at attention.

"Is this your table?" I asked, jumping to my feet. "I can move, it's all yours."

"No," another man said, stepping forward. "We mean to ask if we can sit with you."

That threw me off -guard, and it took me a moment to come up with an answer. "But...um...don't I smell unpleasant to you?"

The first man frowned. "Where did you receive the impression that you smell unpleasant?"

"It's a long story. You're sure you want to sit here?"

The youngest of the four looked as if he was smirking. "We would be honored to join you. Please, sit. Perhaps we can discuss this false notion you have that your scent is unpleasant."

I frowned at them all, sinking gingerly into my seat. "I thought I reeked to you."

The first one shook his head. "Not at all, Ms. Forrest. The human scent is not offensive to us, contrary to what you have heard."

"Ok," I murmured, blinking in surprise. "You're absolutely sure?"

The youngest spoke again. "Who told you that you smell offensive? I assure you, your aroma is very clean and sweet."

"It is feminine, and reminds me of your Earth spices, though which ones, I cannot say," the second man added. The one who hadn't spoken nodded in agreement, and I stared at them, dumbfounded.

"And you don't think I sound obnoxious, or that I'm talking to loud, or..." They stared at me as if I was insane, and I gave up, storing away these tidbits of information for later contemplation. According to these men, I smelled feminine and sweet, like spices, one said. But did they speak for the majority or was I just appealing to these men in particular? They probably didn't speak for the majority.

"So...I don't know your names," I began, glancing at the first one. "I'm Genevieve Forrest, but you can call me Genie."

"I am Vekan, of Shi'Kahr," the first man said to me, bowing his head in greeting.

"I am Renuk of Shi'Kahr," the second chimed.

The man who hadn't spoken yet raised the Vulcan salute to me. "I am T'Klaas, of Gol."

"And I am E'Lik," the youngest finished, "of Xir'Tan."

"A pleasure to meet all of you," I said with a genuine smile. "I'm glad I'm not offending you with my smell."

"No, not at all," Vekan said gently. "Cast the thought from your mind. Your scent is not offensive."

I smiled at him, flushing in sudden embarrassment. "May I ask you why you chose to sit with me?"

"You looked lonely," Renuk said, his expression softening marginally. "This is a day of togetherness, for gratitude. No one should be alone tonight."

I had to give him a warm smile, and he seemed to puff up a bit. "That is so sweet of you to say," I replied blithely. "Thank you so much."

"It is only truth," he said in response.

I noted Sorak had sidled up to the table, looking rather nervous as he stared at the five of us. "Ms. Forrest," he whispered, leaning over me, "the ambassador would want you to sit at the head table with him."

"Because?" I said slowly. He frowned.

"You are his exchange partner, his guest for the evening. He would want you to be at his side."

"I don't mean to argue, but why does me being his exchange partner grant me a seat up there? I assume the higher-ranking Vulcans get to sit up there at the head table, and last time I checked, I'm not a dignitary, or a senior aide, or a super senior who's been here since Solkar's time. All of these men here," I gestured to my tablemates, "deserve a seat more than I do, because I'm sure they have several years on me in terms of education and work experience. I'll be here, out of everyone's way."

"Ms. Forrest, I–"

"If the ambassador wants me up there, he can tell me himself. I'm not going up there on your assumptions, Sorak." I made sure my voice was gentle so he wouldn't think I was trying to insult him. "I'd rather give myself the benefit of the doubt and stay here, where I know I belong."

Sorak drew himself up to his full height. "You belong at the ambassador's side. I have known him longer than you. He wants you at the head table."

"Then why didn't he tell me beforehand?" I retorted, crossing my arms across my chest. "You'd think I would have received explicit instructions on where to sit if this was as big a deal as you're making it."

The aide shook his head. "Ambassador Soval presumed you would sit with him, because he thought you would realize that your place tonight is at his side. He invited you, so you will sit with him."

"I'll sit with him when he tells me to," I said, leaning back in my chair. "If I stay here, I'm either right in my belief that he meant for me to sit out here with his staff, or I'm pleasantly surprised. I'll play it safe today and stay here until I'm ordered to move."

Sorak looked as if he might protest, but then turned on his heel and rushed inside, I assumed to find the ambassador. I sighed and folded my hands on the table, my gaze fixed on the ruddy tablecloth.

"Ms. Forrest?" I looked up at Vekan and smiled.

"What were we talking about?"

"I believe we were speaking of this festival," he replied smoothly. "But we wish to know more about you."

"There's nothing really remarkable about me," I countered, leaning forward in excitement. "I'd much rather hear about you. I haven't met many aliens in my time, but I'll bet you've met dozens."

"I was stationed on Denobula for six months before being assigned to Earth," Vekan offered, and I smiled.

"What was it like?" I said, biting my enthusiasm and excitement. I didn't want to scare them.

"Their cities are very crowded, but vibrant, and the natives are agreeable. It takes quite a serious infraction to irritate a Denobulan."

"What did you do on Denobula?"

"I was a junior aide under Ambassador Tolok. I had the fortune of sitting in on several negotiations before I was reassigned here. The ambassador himself recommended me."

"You must have impressed him," I said with a grin. "Soval is lucky to have you, I'm sure."

"My time here has been most informative. Renuk served with the ambassador to Orion, did you not? I cannot recall her name."

Renuk bowed his head in acknowledgment. "The ambassador's name was T'Prin, and yes, I served under her during her negotiations. Soval read my record and asked for me."

"Another star in the ranks. What were the Orions like?"

He raised an eyebrow. "They were...violent and disagreeable to work with. I much prefer your people."

I smiled at him in gratitude, then shifted my attention to T'Klaas. "And you, sir? Did you serve somewhere else before coming here?"

"I did not," he replied, his voice low and gravelly. "But I served for many years in the Earth Embassy in Shi'Kahr, which led to the recommendation that I be transferred here."

"I see. So this is your first time off-planet?" He nodded. "How are you finding my homeworld so far?"

The man blinked. "Cold. And wet. But if you are any indication of the people one might encounter, than it is worth the disagreeable weather to be here."

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, and I thanked him for his consideration before at last setting my gaze on E'Lik. "And where were you before you came here?"

"This is also my first assignment off-world. I attended the Xir'Tan Academy of Interstellar Relations, and because I graduated at the top of my class, Soval asked for me. I have been here only five months."

"Oh, you're new!" I realized aloud. "How are you liking it so far?"

"My work is satisfactory, but I do not have as much experience interacting with your people as my colleagues do. My position and my short span of experience make it highly unlikely that I will accompany Soval to any negotiations soon."

"You'll get there one day, I'm sure," I assured him with a smile.

He bowed his head in apparent thanks, and I jumped right back into questioning them before they questioned me.

"So how big is Shi'Kahr?" I asked quickly, turning back to Vekan and Renuk.

"Shi'Kahr and its surrounding area is approximately 609.3 square kilometers. A large percentage of the workers in the capital commute from Kir, which holds a population of 5.223 million. Shi'Kahr's population is 8.403 million."

"Now, I've heard that the capital and the region are called Shi'Kahr. Is that right?"

"A remnant of ancient times," Renuk replied. "A warlord would first rule a city, then expand outward in his conquest to dominate the area."

"There weren't any female warlords?" I asked offhandedly.

Renuk smirked ruefully, but T'Klaas answered before he could. "There were only a few female warlords in Vulcan's history. They were just as ruthless as their male counterparts, perhaps more so to be feared in the same way the men were feared."

"I assume most women never cared for the warlord career path? Or did they not have the chance?"

"Most were oppressed beyond your imagination, so I would say the latter," a familiar voice said, and I turned to face Soval. "Now we revere our women, which is why you will sit with me at the head table, where you belong."

I nodded, rising slowly. "I would never presume equality with you, because that's a one-way ticket to humiliation."

He frowned at me, gently taking my upper arm to pull me away from the table. "Always assume equality with me, Genevieve. It is what you deserve."

Before he could tear me completely away from the others, I turned to the four men and thanked them for their company and for answering my questions.

"It was our pleasure, Ms. Forrest," Vekan said, and I thought he looked rather disappointed, and Soval gently pulled me along away from them.

"Why did you sit with them?" the ambassador hissed in my ear once we were out of earshot.

"First of all, they chose to sit with me, not the other way around. I would have been perfectly fine being by myself and out of everyone's way," I replied curtly. "But whether you want to recognize it or not, there is a massive power differential between you and me. I won't assume equality with you because we aren't equal. So I chose to sit alone, and I thought it would be rude to turn them away."

I may have shocked him. "Genevieve...we are equal. We have always been equal. I started my career as a simple footsoldier, and–"

"It doesn't matter what you were then. What matters is what you are now. An ambassador with way more influence than I could ever dream of having. That makes us unequal."

"I am only a man," he insisted gravely.

"Again, it doesn't matter what's between your legs, it's the level of power you have on this planet and yours. I don't have any influence on Earth or Vulcan. Do you see? We're not equal. The power dynamic between us is skewed obscenely in your favor, so no matter how much you want to claim that we're on the same playing field, we aren't. We will never be on the same field. As an ambassador, you have advantages and privileges I will never have access to."

We reached the head table, and he pulled out my chair for me. I hesitated a moment, then sat gingerly in my new seat. I could see Vekan and the others looking up at us from the back right corner, and I waved in acknowledgment.

Soval sat beside me and turned to face me, his expression hardened. "Perhaps your assertions hold weight on Earth soil, but here, in this Consulate, you are under my protection, and are on equal footing with me. You are my guest, my exchange partner, and you deserve to be up here as much as I do. You have more value and power than you give yourself credit for."

I remained silent, staring at my empty water glass, choosing not to answer him. Soval stood, holding up his hand for silence. The soft chatter that had filled the courtyard was stilled. The ambassador straightened.

"This night is our heritage," he began, his voice ringing off the stone walls. "Long ago we walked in darkness, torn by violence and hatred, but now we embrace in our souls the calming balm of logic. On this night, reason won over discord, ushering in an unprecedented age of peace.

"We remember tonight Ra'al's victory over the oppression it endured for thousands of years, and we remember to be grateful for our fortunes."

He sat down, and Timok pulled himself to his feet, clearing his throat. "As you all have seen, we have a human guest tonight. I will recite the litany in English for her benefit."

I straightened my posture, coming completely to attention as I looked down the row at Timok. The litany took almost half an hour to recite, and I was surprised to find it was actually an interesting account beneath the slightly droll language. I learned about Ra'al during Surak's time, how it was a militant city, constantly at war with both Shi'Kahr and Gol, its biggest rivals on that side of the planet. Venakur, the warlord who held the city in his ruthless grip, finally made an enemy of his people by providing food to his armies at the expense of the populace. They were starving, angry, and they had had enough of the warlord's battles and conquests. So when Surak's message of peace and unity and shared resources reached their ears, the people rallied around him, and since Venakur's armies were too far away to stop them, Ra'al was soon overthrown and given over to Surak and his followers.

When Timok ended the litany, I looked to Soval, who was silent, his eyes closed in apparent contemplation. So I guessed applause would be out of the question.

Timok sat back down, and Soval's bright brown eyes slowly opened again, and he stood up, inviting everyone to stand with him. Timok remained seated, but I stood, waiting for instruction.

Soval bowed his head, his expression reverent and reserved. It was interesting to watch him like this, and it crossed my mind that I was seeing him at his most Vulcan: quiet, composed and controlled. He looked so very alien in that moment, and I was forcefully reminded how out of my league he was, how out of place I felt at this ceremony. I suppressed a sigh.

Suddenly, he raised his head and looked out to the small crowd, and he started reciting some chant in Vulcan; his staff joined in. I remained silent, bowing my head in respect. I closed my eyes too, listening to the warm cadence of Soval's voice to my left and the deeper rumble of Sorak's voice to my right.

The chant did not last long, and I opened my eyes and looked to the ambassador. He was already seated along with everyone else, and I quickly took my seat. I thought I glimpsed a smirk on some of the faces in the crowd, and I stared resolutely at my water glass, my face burning bright red.

My embarrassment was alleviated by the arrival of dinner, and I didn't dare touch my food when it was placed in front of me. Although we followed rather laissez-faire rules when Soval and I ate together, this ceremony might require the ambassador to eat first, or maybe the eldest man or woman, and I was fairly certain I qualified as the youngest person here.

"Genevieve."

I looked up to Soval, and he glanced down at my food. "We are waiting," he said.

I frowned at him. "What?" I whispered.

"You are the only woman in attendance tonight," he replied softly, leaning in to whisper in my ear. "I told you, your sex is revered among my people. We are waiting for you to take the first bite so that we may eat as well."

I blinked and looked out to the crowd, and every eye was turned on me in anticipation. "Sorry to keep you waiting," I said, the flush on my cheeks returning, and I hastily took a bite of the first thing I laid eyes on. It looked somewhat like pak-tar, a starchy, thin root often tossed in salads, but this vegetable was sweeter, not as hearty, and I chewed enthusiastically. Everyone else dug into their meal, the silence only broken by a few murmurs here and there, perhaps commentary on my ignorance, about how I made them wait to eat. And I knew from what Soval told me that they had been fasting all day...

I blindly shoveled another bite into my mouth, but I chewed slowly, savoring the unexpected sweetness. I tried the white paste next to the root and discovered it was bland and bean-like, so I tried another paste, this one bright yellow.

The burning sensation assaulting my tongue had me reaching for my water glass. Soval glanced at me, looking concerned.

"You find the p'muk paste too spicy?" he asked, and I nodded, drinking deeply from my water glass.

"Usually, if you mix the white and yellow pastes together," Soval continued, "it isn't as hot."

I decided I would try his suggestion once my tongue stopped burning. A small bowl of light green soup sat next to the yellow paste, and the flavor surprised me. It was cold and salty, with a crisp, sour snap, and I drank it greedily.

The ambassador's gaze drew my own, and I put the bowl down, wondering if I had done something wrong.

He shook his head. "Do not stop. It is very satisfying to see you enjoying the cuisine of my homeworld."

I stared for a moment, then took up the bowl again. As I continued around my plate, I only found a few more things I enjoyed as much as the soup, one being a dough ball laden with spices and nuts. I devoured the dish with a gusto; the ambassador seemed amused for some reason, and I felt his eyes on me more than once.

At long last, the attendants whisked away my plate, and I leaned back, full and in a better mood than before the meal. Small glass of a dark blue liquid – presumably liquor – was distributed to our table and to the crowd. I noted my glass contained a lot less than Soval's or Sorak's glass, so I quietly asked my companion if there was a reason for this. He nodded.

"Vulcan port is known to be highly intoxicating to humans. It does not affect my people as much as yours, so naturally, we may consume more than you without encountering the debilitating effects of alcohol."

I blinked. "How intoxicating are we talking here?"

"What we have given you is not enough to intoxicate you, but you may feel a slight light-headed sensation after the fact."

The blue concoction bubbled as I picked it up and sniffed it, and even though I was full, my mouth watered in anticipation. The brew smelled like sugar and exotic spices with slight wheat and floral notes. I took another deep whiff, closing my eyes as the scent relaxed me. I swallowed thickly, but my mouth was immediately flooded with more saliva. Even the smell of this stuff was making me feel slightly dizzy, so I put it down; it bubbled again, the little air pockets languid as they rose slowly to the surface of the liquid.

"You have not tasted Vulcan port before?" Sorak asked me, waking me from my reverie. I shook my head.

"This is a Ra'alian blend," he added. "2075 vintage, if I remember the order correctly."

"Is that a good thing?" I asked.

"It was a plentiful year, with a good harvest. 2075 is one of the finer ports available," Soval said, joining the conversation. "Do you recall, Sorak, that we ordered this vintage last year?"

"Yes, it was quite god. I am pleased that we ordered it again for this year's celebration."

"It's very smooth, I assure you," the ambassador told me, and he took a sip as if to prove his point. I took a hold of my glass, looking out to the crowd to make sure no one was waiting on me again; each table buzzed with conversation and the Vulcans drank freely without a glance at the head table. Well, maybe two or three of them glanced at me, most notably Vekan and the others in the corner. I raised my glass to them and took a sip.

It took effort not to make a noise of appreciation as the spicy liquor trickled down my throat. It was sweeter than I expected and filled my body with warmth.

"Do you like it?" I heard Soval's voice low and seductive in my ear, and I simply sighed, closing my eyes.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes, it's extraordinary," I whispered, taking another slow sip. The rational side of me said I needed to pace myself, even though every other instinct said to guzzle the nectar in my glass and ask for more.

"At this point in the ceremony," the ambassador murmured, "it is traditional for each table to share amongst themselves those things for which they are grateful. And we toast those things in remembrance of our fortunes."

"What are you grateful for?" I asked. He stared at me for a moment before answering.

"I am grateful that I have you to care for. Even the arguments I bless. It is better than solitude."

I softened at that, my heart skipping a beat or two, and I raised my glass with him and drank to good company.

"And you, Genevieve?" he asked, holding his glass in ready. His brown eyes pierced me through, and something in them (or maybe it was the booze) pulled an answer from my lips.

"I'm grateful for my family, for the nice accommodations the Vulcan government and its ambassador have afforded me. But no matter how much of a pain you can be...I am very glad that I know you, and that you tolerate my nonsense on a daily basis."

He held my gaze for what felt like a lifetime before raising the glass to his lips and taking a sip, never taking his eyes off of me. I followed suit, the warm, spicy brew filling my veins with heat. I let my eyes roam freely over his face, lingering a little too long on his lips. He watched me all the while, silent, seemingly pensive, and my gaze slid from his lips to his ears. Oh, those ears made my mouth water all over again, and I may have wet my lips as I stared openly at him, taking in his maleness, his alien nature. And then I slowly came to the realization that I was gawking him, and I hastily lowered my gaze to my lap.

"To our future together, Genevieve," he purred, and his fingers touched my chin, raising it, forcing my gaze back up to meet his. He released me and raised his glass, and we drank together. And for just a moment, my future didn't seem quite so bleak.