The crowd dispersed after the rememberence ceremony was completed. Sarek's view of the Earth woman was obscured. When he next looked, he could not see her, although, quite illogically, he continued to scan for any sign of her. He saw none and this caused a peculiar, hollow ache to build inside him. He found this emotion easier to place than the fluttering that preceded it; disappointment. Most Terrans assumed that Vulcans were ignorant of what emotions were but that was a misconception. Sarek was a man of deep feeling. His own father had accused him of carrying his emotions too close to the surface on many occasions. It was for this reason that Sarek sought frequent meditation. He was often conflicted and now was no different.

He did not understand why the forbidden emotion was present within him. Nor was he able to correlate the feeling with the woman's absent presence. He was quick to correct himself, as he felt his disappointment opening a potentially destructive door to other emotions such as confusion and self-doubt. He could not allow that to happen. He needed to remain in full control of his faculties. His logic was being tested by this planet and its people. He'd barely been on the surface for one Terran day and he was already straying from Surak's teachings. He needed to do better if he was to fulfil his responsibilities as the future ambassador. If Sakkath noticed Sarek's strange demeanour, he did not mention anything.

As Admiral Archer approached, Sarek forced composure.

"What did you think of the speech?" Henry asked.

"It certainly seemed to… illicit an impassioned response."

"Humans are an impassioned sort of people."

"Indeed, it would seem so." Sarek agreed bluntly.

"Will you be joining us for the reception? I know that socializing isn't technically part of your duties yet but it might be good for you to mingle. There's going to be a lot of Starfleet personnel there. Plenty of opportunity for you to familiarise yourself with some of the faces you'll be seeing."

"Vulcans do not 'mingle'."

"I meant no offense." Henry frowned and looked perturbed. It was possible that he'd taken Sarek's words as a personal attack but they were not. Sarek thought it best to correct the Admiral's error before the misunderstanding could escalate.

"None is taken. I was merely making an observation about the differences between our cultures. You are correct that socialising is not technically part of my duties, as my position is not yet official. However, if I am to become the Vulcan ambassador to Earth, perhaps I need to 'embrace' technicalities."

Henry visibly relaxed. "That's great! Then you'll join us?"

"I believe that is what I just said." Sarek did not understand why Admiral Archer needed clarification.

"Perfect. It would have been a shame for you to miss it."

"Shame? What does shame have to do with the reception event?" Why did humans have to bring emotion into every discussion?

"I just meant that it would have been unfortunate. I know at least one person who would be ecstatic to meet you."

"Specify. Who is this person?"

"Amanda Grayson. She's a teacher on Earth and an old friend."

"A Starfleet academy educator?" Sarek inquired.

"Not officially. However, she's a talented linguist and she's been working with us to improve the universal translator programme."

"From my understanding the reception is supposed to be for Starfleet personnel only. I do not see why a civilian's presence is necessary." Sarek raised his eyebrow as he questioned the Admiral's logic. Whilst volunteer work was admirable, it hardly merited an invite to such a high-profile event.

"That's true but Amanda specialises in language and culture and she's helped us make a number of significant breakthroughs. The least I could do was invite her. And plus, she's an old friend."

"Yes, you have already stated that fact." Sarek narrowed his eyes slightly. He was beginning to understand that humans both repeated themselves and required others to do the same. This unusual behaviour could not possibly be productive but he took note of it anyway. He would need to learn how to communicate effectively with these people, even if they themselves did not speak in a rational manner.

Sakkath chose that moment to intervene. "Can you guarantee that your associate is not a security threat?"

Henry laughed, loud and boisterously.

"You find my inquiry amusing?" Sakkath raised a slanted eyebrow.

"A little." Henry said, struggling to reign in his laughter and regain composure. "Amanda wouldn't hurt a fly!"

"The safety of an insectoid is irrelevant. Protecting Sarek is of prime importance."

"We've arranged extra security, given the importance of the function, but Amanda isn't a threat to Sarek or otherwise." Henry smiled reassuringly but the gesture was lost on the young Vulcan. "She's a gentle soul and she's pretty passionate about Vulcans."

That intrigued Sarek; a human expressing passion about Vulcans, a society of people who rejected such an emotion. It was a paradox that he wished to witness in person.

"Surak teaches us that passion can be dangerous." Sakkath quoted, face deadpan.

"I am certain the Admiral would not purposely endanger us, Sakkath." Sarek said, playing the role of mediator as he had been trained to do. This earned him a sharp, questioning look from his assistant but he chose to ignore it.

The Admiral left and Sakkath glanced over to Sarek. "You are certain you would not rather retreat to your assigned quarters and meditate?" He asked. "I sense that today has placed a great strain on you."

It was a well-known fact that Sakkath was a descendant of particularly powerful telepath, and that he too possessed such abilities. It was part of the reason Sarek appointed him as his assistant. If Sarek were to falter from Surak's true path, then Sakkath would intervene before his emotions had the chance to best him. This time, however, Sarek decided that his assistants caution wasn't warranted. He would be able to maintain his control for a few hours longer. His own meditation could wait.

"It is logical that I attend. You, however, may return to the assigned quarters." Sarek said simply and Sakkath did not offer any further remark. One simply did not argue with logic.

"You did what?!" Amanda stared at Henry, mouth agape, incredulous.

"You've always wanted to meet a Vulcan in person. Isn't that what tonight is all about? Or are you just here for the free champagne?" Henry teased.

"I didn't think I'd actually get to meet one. There are so many people here." Amanda glanced around the glamorous reception space and saw so many people that were more important than her; Captains, Admirals, Ambassadors. She held no rank, special title or position of power. Whilst everyone else was clad in either ceremonial clothing or Starfleet uniform, she wore an elegant silver ballgown that glittered beneath the rooms' artificial lighting.

"You belong here." Henry affirmed. "It takes more than a uniform to be part of the Starfleet family."

"I don't know about this, Henry." Amanda's anxiety was through the roof. She didn't know what she'd expected to come from attending the reception but it definitely wasn't this. She'd been ecstatic when she'd caught the attention of a Vulcan earlier but saying hello from afar, whilst she was standing in a crowd of hundreds, was very different from holding an in-person conversation with one. She would have settled for another glimpse, observing the culture and mannerisms from a distance but her meddlesome friend had arranged a one-to-one meeting. "What if he doesn't like me?" She asked. "I could accidentally cause a political crisis."

"You couldn't do a worse job than me." Henry remarked. "I'm fairly sure Porthos licking his hand broke at least a dozen regulations."

Amanda stifled a giggle. "Oh dear, did you put him in time out to reflect on his poor behaviour?"

"I sent him back to my quarters. I had a strong suspicion Grak was serious about eating him. Now don't change the subject, Mandy." He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently, offering her encouragement. "You've got this."

Amanda bit her lip and shook her head. "What am I even going to talk to him about?" She nervously fiddled with the strap of her sequin shoulder strap bag.

"You're the cultural and language expert. I'm sure you'll think of something. You better think of something fast though. He's coming this way."

As Amanda looked up, her breath caught in her throat. The Ambassador walked towards her at a conscientious but purposeful pace. She recognised his clothing from her extensive studies of Vulcan culture. He wore an honourable robe; an Opelal. The stiff, dark grey material accentuated the broadness of his shoulders, but the sleeves draped loosely over his arms, and the hood was wide yet no less splendid. Beneath the outer layer she observed a contrasting Si'pelal, made from a heavy yet elegant fabric. An Osan-wun completed his attire; the three-band sash kept flat and neat with stylised knots. He was perfectly put together, not a thread nor a hair out of place. She felt entirely underdressed in comparison. She wore a floor length dress but her arms and shoulders were exposed and whilst her hair was styled into a formal up-do, there were a few stubborn strands that had broken loose at the front, their errent curls falling across her cheeks.

She couldn't understand how anyone could move so freely whilst wrapped in so many layers but he made it seem easy. She honed in on the quiet yet audible sound of the material brushing against the floor. Each swoosh brought him a step closer. He looked positively ethereal, standing apart from human men as angels would from mortals. Amanda both envied and admired the calmness he emitted. Her own inner peace was non-existent but she tried her hardest to conceal that. She knew he would not appreciate emotionalism. He might be a man, but above all else, he was Vulcan, and she did not want to accidentally cause offense. Could Vulcans feel offense? It was difficult to decipher whether he felt anything. Up close, his features were cold, sharp, and impossible to read.

His stride faltered slightly as he reached her, and his dark eyes seemed to fixate on her, but it was such a small disruption to his fluid movements that she convinced herself she was imagining things. He didn't say anything, just stared at her with an expression that gave away nothing. There was a slight tilt to his head, which made him look as though he was assessing her. It was unnerving. He gazed at her so intently, it felt as though he was trying to touch the very essence of her being. In that moment, if he were to reach out to brush his fingertips against her soul, she wasn't sure she would have the strength or the inclination to stop him.

Amanda didn't know what to say. Her tongue had gone numb and useless in her mouth and the knowledge she had of Vulcans and their beautifully complex language deserted her. So, she tilted her chin upwards and looked back at him. He was quite a bit taller than her and she couldn't help feel intimidated by his imposing figure. She willed her face to remain still, despite her nerves.

"Admiral," The Vulcan acknowledged Henry but didn't look away from Amanda. The intensity of his gaze burned, even if his eyes were cold and void of any noticeable feeling. He was yet to greet her or even acknowledge her existence apart from the way he was looking at her.

"Ambassador, this is who I mentioned earlier. Amanda Grayson. I'll let you two get acquainted."

Amanda whipped around to protest but it was too late. Henry was already attending to the other guests. She was alone with The Ambassador.

Sarek had not connected the Earth woman he'd seen in the crowd and the teacher Admiral Archer had mentioned. Although, now that he knew that they were the same person, he realised she logically couldn't have been anyone else. She was even more aesthetically pleasing up close than she was from a distance. Her attire was intriguing. He had not had the chance to evaluate human clothing before. At least, not this close up. The databases he'd reviewed hardly did reality justice. He wondered if the sparkling effect on her dress served a purpose, but suspected it may have more to do with beauty than function. Many outworlders think that Vulcans cannot understand beautiful things, but that could not be further from the truth, and was yet another misconception that most of his people had not bothered correcting. Sarek could appreciate beauty and he was looking directly at it.

Shon-ha'lock

The whisper rose from the depths of his Katra. He could not recall the meaning behind the expression, but it stirred up an emotion that burned as hot as Vulcan's molten core; one that was very old and very dangerous for his people. Logically, he knew that he could not physically combust, but it almost felt as though he would spontaneously burst into flames at any moment. He did not have time to contemplate what had caused him to experience such an irrational phenomenon. Somehow, he mustered the strength to extinguish the heat flooding his entire system.

Yet, as the flames died, the restless fluttering in his heart started up again. It was a curious physiological effect. It took everything in his power to remain in a calm, neutral state. He stayed silent, trying to restrain himself from any emotional display that might give away the fact his pulse was thrumming uncontrollably. After a few moments of stretched quiet he realised she was waiting for him to speak, and that he had perhaps committed a faux pas. If she were a Vulcan female his silence would be acceptable but she was not. Her golden-brown eyes shone with vibrancy and liveliness; her humanity clearly on display, even if she didn't act like anyone he'd met before. She did not rush to shake his hand as many humans erroneously did. She did not act overly emotional. She instead patiently waited for him to greet her. That was a refreshing change.

"Miss Grayson," he said at last, his voice strong and steady, despite his heart betraying him. "It is agreeable to meet you. I am Sarek of Vulcan." He offered her the Ta'al. "I did not get the opportunity to return your earlier greeting so allow me to do so now."

Intriguingly, her cheeks turned a pinkish-red. "I wasn't sure you'd noticed me."

"Your existence was difficult to miss. I did not respond as it would have been inappropriate to draw attention to myself at the time."

The blush spread further and her ears turned a matching pink. He allowed himself to indulge in the enjoyment he got from watching her blush. The colour reminded him of the sun from his home world and he could almost imagine the immense warmth he'd feel if he reached out and touched his fingertips to her cheeks. That thought was deeply inappropriate even by human standards. For Surak's Sake, where was his self-control and propriety tonight? He accessed his biometric controls and concentrated on preventing his own skin from flushing green with embarrassment. Perhaps he should have left with Sakkath earlier. Then none of this would be happening.

"Oh, really? Was there something in particular about me?" Her question interrupted his line of thinking.

She looked at him, one of her eyebrows raised in inquiry. He was able to detect a hint of surprise but there was another emotion underlying her question; an almost playful quality to her voice. He found it harder to place. It was becoming clear that learning the nuances of human behaviour was not going to be a quick process. They sometimes expressed one emotion, whilst feeling another, and just when he'd thought he knew what they were trying to convey, he would be proven incorrect. Interacting with Miss Grayson was therefore the logical thing to do if he were to be an efficient Ambassador.

"I noted that you did not use standard. You were speaking in Vulcan. Most humans do not bother to learn our language. Are you able to converse fluently in it?"

"Ri maut." She said in Vulcan, not very. Her pronunciation was almost faultless but he could tell she lacked confidence in her ability to speak it or to use it in every day conversation. Still, he found himself impressed. She'd clearly memorised and practised key phrases and words which was more than most humans bothered doing.

"I'm afraid I'm unable to hold a lengthy conversation. I'm able to understand your language but I'm nowhere near a native level." She went on to say. "You're the first Vulcan I've met. I haven't had much opportunity to practice."

"There is no need to feel fear." He watched as she chewed her lower lip. He assumed that it was a sign of apprehension and he aimed to put her at ease. "Your species did not evolve on my planet. Your tongue is therefore not adequately built for the Vulcan language. I would not expect you to achieve such a feat."

"You think my tongue is inadequate?" She asked.

His lips parted and closed as he struggled to find an appropriate answer. He had not intended on insulting her. Nirak, he reprimanded himself for such foolishness.

He however had failed to pick up the humour in her tone of voice and her sudden grin surprised him. When her chest started to move up and down, he realised he hadn't insulted her at all. He had amused her. Her laughter filled his ears like a melody played on a Vulcan lyre, each note a soft plucked string. As music was wont to do, it touched a part of him, deep, deep, below his disciplined exterior.

"I believe you are teasing me." He remarked, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly. This time he could not stop the slight green tint from rising to the point of his ears. Pleasure pulsed pleasantly beneath his skin as he listened to her, and it threatened to overspill into genuine joy if she did not cease laughing soon, but very quickly Sarek came to learn that there was only one thing worse than the effect Amanda's laughing had on him, and that was Amanda not laughing. The absence of it made him ache with loss. Curious. Yet another experience he would need to mediate about.

"Oh. I'm sorry, Ambassador. That was cruel of me." She composed herself quickly and once again he found himself impressed. She showed a level of control that he hadn't been aware humans could possess and it seemed she had no issue reigning in her emotions when the occasion called for it.

"I do not believe your intentions were malicious." In fact, he did not think Miss Grayson was capable of any form of unkindness. "Perhaps it is I who should apologise. My words came out much harsher than intended."

"It's OK." Her words did very little to reassure him. His earlier reference had made her sound inferior and lesser than him and that was simply not the case.

"No," he insisted. "It is not. There are some people on my home world who believe that Vulcans are superior to humans in every way."

"Oh." He observed her face carefully, taking note of the way her eyebrows pinched and her forehead furrowed. The muscles in her shoulders also seemed to have stiffened in response to his statement, and there was a darkness clouding her eyes that hadn't existed before. He did not know exactly what the change in her behaviour meant, but insinuated that there was a high probability he'd insulted her, and this time she did not seem humoured.

"You misunderstand me. I am not one of those people. I follow IDIC teachings and therefore do not believe that to be true."

The dark cloud cleared and she lit up with understanding. He was pleased to see her shoulders relax. "Infinite diversity in infinite combinations."

"You are familiar with the concept?"

She nodded and smiled so automatically that he wondered if she was even aware she was doing it. That is not to say that he did not enjoy the way it accentuated her features. "So, is this your way of saying you think we're equals?"

"It is my way of saying that we are different and that we must learn to accept that in order to better both our worlds."

"I agree completely. We have a lot to learn from one another."

"Indeed." He agreed.

"Perhaps we could teach each other? If you'd be interested, that is?"

"An intriguing proposal." He mused. "Please elaborate."

"I could educate you about humans, our way of life, our customs, and in turn you could assist me with my efforts to improve my understanding of the Vulcan language?" She blushed and blurted. "Probably a silly suggestion. Sorry. Ignore me."

But he could not ignore her. Her suggestion was compelling and not at all as ludicrous as she was making it out to be. He would be Vulcan's ambassador to Earth within the next six Terran months. He needed to be fully prepared and his experience so far had proven he was not.

"I accept."

"You do?" She asked, her eyes wide and unbelieving. "I wouldn't want to overstep. You probably have a whole list of official people who would be willing to teach you."

"Yes, but none quite like you."

Sarek was surprised by the force of his own honesty. He was usually careful not to be so forthcoming, but for unknown reasons he was finding it difficult to contain himself around Miss Grayson. It was true that there was a long list of people who he could observe and learn about the intricacies of human behaviour from, but most Starfleet personnel did not know what to speak to him about, and conversation would quickly drift into topics that bored him. He could not imagine ever finding conversations with Miss Grayson dull. She was rare as she was beautiful.

It was clear that she did not know what to make of his words. Once again, they stared at one another, and he found himself contemplating the unique connection he was beginning to forge with her. He was Vulcan. She was human. They could not be more different. And yet… they seemed to have reached a silent understanding. He could feel warm tendrils of friendship stretching across the space between them, not quite touching, and his psi points ached to reach out and connect them on a permanent basis. That thought was extremely reckless. Telepathic bonds were not something to be taken lightly. He suppressed the primal urge and moved to clasp his hands behind him, restraining himself, as he did not trust himself to not touch her.

"When do you want to begin?" Miss Grayson was the one to break the lull in conversation this time.

"Would now be agreeable?"

She smiled enthusiastically in response and the fires within threatened to consume him again. He could not ever remember experiencing such a sensation, even during his last Time, when he'd been lost to the blood fever.

Shon-ha'lock, his Katra chanted with increasing urgency but the meaning was still unclear.