Hundreds of voices filled the conference room. Earth standard was the most commonly spoken but there was plenty of others that originated from beyond the Milky Way system. Each language diverged into diverse dialects, and each of those into unique and specific colloquialisms. Amanda would usually have leapt at the chance to record the collective data, but tonight, her focus was glued to the Vulcan standing beside her. Sarek initially sounded cold and detached, but as she listened, she picked up on the rich warmth belying his words; like drizzled honey on a summer's day.
Sarek held his hands behind him, physically restraining his movements, slender flingers clasped around his wrists, head held high, shoulders taught as string pulled tight. He frequently censored himself, drawing out each of his replies and questions longer than seemed necessary, as though weighing up the importance and accuracy of each word. She understood where his apprehension came from. When they'd first met, she'd felt acutely worried she'd say the wrong thing, and that Sarek would disappear like a wisp in the wind, but after a while, her fear seemed unwarranted. Sarek remained by her side, as solid and steady as the mountains of his home world. She wished she could find a way of reassuring him, but even if she tried, he was unlikely to accept any attempt at alleviating his social concerns. He was Vulcan, after all.
Everyone always commented on how stuffy Vulcans were, their mono-syllabic answers, and lack of interest in topics that didn't serve a logical purpose. Sarek wasn't like that. He was considerate. Kind. He appeared engaged in their discussions. The natural flow of their conservation was interrupted by his apologies for inadvertently causing offense, even though there was none to be felt. Amanda observed his emotionalism without comment. She was certain highlighting his clear ability for empathy would cut their discussion short, so she was careful to stick to subjects she knew were safe, or at least she hoped were safe. The waters she was wading in were untested and she didn't want to risk sinking before she'd even dipped her toes in.
Vulcans and humans were incompatible on paper; as different as fire and ice. In many ways, she and Sarek were the perfect personification of that metaphor. She'd grown up in Canada. The person she was today had been shaped by snow and glaciers. Sarek was a desert dweller, forged in sandstorms, under the sweltering heat of an unforgiving sun. Amanda understood the rift between their two cultures. It wasn't a small gap. It was an immense chasm that'd been steadily growing wider since first contact. The handshake between Zefram Cochrane and Solkar might have appeared friendly from a human perspective, but she'd studied the historical event in depth. She suspected the division between their people had begun then, with that too-human gesture. She raised her suspicions with Sarek.
He tilted his head and surmised. "You are not alone in your curiosity. I once raised a similar query when I was an i'khaz'el."
"Of course, Solkar is your Sa'mekh-al." Amanda carefully enunciated the word: forefather. She hoped her human accent didn't hinder his ability to understand her. "I imagine you were naturally curious about what really took place during first contact."
Sarek's eyebrow twitched. "Indeed."
"What did he say when you asked him about it?"
"My Sa'mekh-al informed me that accepting the handshake was the only logical action to take that day." Amanda tried and failed to fight back a smile. Sarek narrowed his eyes. "You do not believe this to be the truth?"
"Do you?" She asked.
"Vulcans do not lie," he hesitated. "At least not in the same way humans do."
"I wasn't implying that he lied. Just that truth is very rarely one-dimensional. There are depths to it. I'm sure even Vulcans omit details."
"We do, on occasion," Sarek admitted, in a tone that, if he were human, might be interpreted as reluctant acceptance. "When logic calls for it."
"And emotions play no part in those omissions?"
"They do not."
Amanda wasn't sure she believed him but she knew when to let something go. She wasn't going to be able to teach Sarek about the merits of emotions. At least not in one evening. He was too entrenched in logic.
"Belonging to such an important family must present its difficulties." She mused.
"Indeed," Sarek agreed.
"T'Pau is part of your clan too, isn't she? What she did for your people was revolutionary."
"Affirmative. She played a significant role in Vulcan's political and cultural landscape. The ramifications of her actions are still present on my planet today."
"It must be hard having to live up to that kind of reputation."
"'Hard' is subjective. There are too many variables to determine whether my life would have been more difficult or easier than it currently is if T'Pau had not recovered the Ki'Shara."
"She sounds like an amazing woman."
"She possesses one of the most logical minds I have ever encountered. She is, indeed, as you say, 'amazing'. You seem to have significant knowledge about my Ma'at."
Amanda shrugged nonchalantly. "Only the basic information stored in the Starfleet databases.
"You researched me." Although it was said as a statement, Amanda could hear the subtextual question lingering in the air.
"Yes," she confirmed, evading his intense gaze. "Meeting you seemed unlikely but I like to prepare."
"Preparing for all eventualities is only logical."
"I can embrace logic." The corners of her lips curved into a soft, playful smile. "When the occasion calls for it."
Amanda's resolve to hide her emotions from the soon-to-be ambassador had failed within minutes of speaking with him. Perhaps it was because Sarek didn't seem to mind her humanity. He was Vulcan but he also embraced diversity.
"I am beginning to suspect that the Earth colloquial term 'amazing' is a fitting description for you, Miss Grayson."
Amanda flushed pink. That compliment had almost sounded human.
"You don't mean that."
"Did I speak imprecisely?"
"No. You didn't, but- "
"Then is it not logical to assume that my observation of your character is sincere?"
"You hardly know me."
"True. It is unfortunate that I had no prior knowledge of your existence. I did not have the opportunity to prepare for our encounter. However, now we are acquaintances, I have every intention of getting to know you."
"I'd like that." Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. "A lot."
Her joy roamed freely across her human features, shining in the reflective surface of her eyes, pulling at her lips, dancing across her face. Her expression didn't faze him.
Sarek's hands unclasped from behind his back and came to rest over the knot in his Osan-wun. Earnestness burned deep in his eyes. She got the distinct impression that he was smiling at her.
"I could do with a drink." She said, suddenly aware of how dry her mouth was. "Do you want one?" She nodded towards the open bar on the opposite side of the conference room.
"I do not require hydration. I will, however, accompany you."
The bar was manned by a Ferengi. Amanda recognized him as Nozig; a young entrepreneur with a keen ear for business. He could usually be found manning Amanda's favorite coffee shop; one of many that existed within the hustle and bustle of Starfleet HQ. Whilst he was driven by profit, just as many of his people were, Amanda's daily encounters with him had led her to believe he was somewhat rare amongst his species. He, unlike many other male Ferengi, didn't address her as 'female', or complain about her clothed state, and he always seemed jovial.
"Hi Nozig," she greeted. "I trust this evening has been profitable?"
"Extremely profitable, most kind of you to ask." Nozig flashed her a toothy grin. "Who is your business associate?"
Amanda turned her head toward Sarek. "He's not my associate. This is Sarek of Vulcan. He's my…" she trailed off, unsure about how to finish that sentence. Saying he was her acquaintance didn't feel right.
"I am her student." Sarek supplied, as though perceiving her struggle. "Miss Grayson has agreed to educate me about Earth and its customs."
"You couldn't ask for a better teacher," Nozig complimented.
"Indeed?" Sarek raised an eyebrow.
"The delectable Amanda taught me the ways of humans. Her advice has proven to be most profitable!"
"Delectable?" Sarek blinked, eyebrow rising even higher.
"Talking of profit." Amanda quickly intervened. "Please can I have one of your famous milkshakes?"
"Ah, profit, like music to my ears. What flavor?" Nozig asked.
"Surprise me."
"Hard or soft?"
Amanda thought about it for a moment. Sarek sensed her hesitation.
"Why are you deliberating? Does the density of your beverage hold particular significance?" He asked.
"Hard means alcoholic. Soft means no alcohol." Amanda explained.
"I see." Sarek said. "Does your hesitation relate to my presence?"
"Vulcans don't drink. I didn't want to appear rude."
"That's an understatement," Nozig scoffed. "Vulcans are terrible for business!"
"That is not strictly true." Sarek stated simply. "Vulcans do not experience the side effects of intoxication and we do not consume alcohol for leisure. However, we do drink if there is a logical cause to celebrate. It is a gesture rather than a pleasurable experience."
"And is there a cause tonight?" Amanda asked. "To celebrate?"
Sarek remained silent for an indeterminable passage of time, fixating on her with a fascinated micro-expression, the barest impression of a frown denting the space between his eyebrows. By now she knew that this was simply his way. He liked to filter his thoughts and reach a conclusion before he spoke. That knowledge made the wait no less intense.
The moment stretched around them, like a bubble she was afraid would burst if she so much as breathed too loudly. Nozig thankfully didn't interrupt or supply a quick-witted remark. He busied himself behind the bar, cleaning glasses, or at least pretending to, whilst she waited for Sarek to respond.
Sarek ended the moment with a nod. "Yes," he said. "There is reasonable cause. I have changed my mind. I would like to join you."
Amanda exhaled, relief leaving her chest like a lead weight lifting. "Make that two surprise flavour milkshakes, both hard please."
"Bourbon or baileys?" Nozig asked.
Amanda glanced at Sarek.
"As I have no experience with Earth beverages, I defer to your expertise."
Amanda nodded. "Baileys it is then."
"Two Nozig surprise specialties coming your way!"
The enthusiastic Ferengi set about mixing their drinks the old-fashioned way. There were no replicated refreshments tonight. Amanda appreciated the authenticity. Technology was revolutionary but there were some tastes that simply couldn't be replicated. Like chocolate, for instance.
Nozig placed two beige iced drinks on the bar. "This may be my finest work yet!" He proudly proclaimed.
"Thank you, Nozig," Amanda said. "May your path to profit bring you joy, and may your joy be profitable."
Nozig bowed in appreciation and Amanda picked up both drinks. Turning to Sarek, she said, "shall we find somewhere to sit?"
Sarek nodded and they walked together, towards the designated seating area.
"Your knowledge of Ferengi culture is remarkable. Have you considered a diplomatic career path?"
"I don't think that would be a good idea."
"Clarify."
"It might not seem like it now, but I can be quite passionate when it comes to political topics. I'm not sure I'd be able to separate my head from my heart."
"I understand."
"Because humans find it difficult to suppress emotional outbursts?"
"No. Because Vulcans find it difficult."
"They do?"
"Yes, learning to suppress emotions is a life-long task. Some Vulcans struggle with it more than others."
Do you struggle? She wondered silently as they reached their destination. Most of the spaces were already occupied but there was a two-seater settee available. It overlooked an ornate set of French doors connected to a balcony.
"Is this OK?" She asked.
"This is adequate." He sat down, perching himself on the edge to create a comfortable amount of space for her to join him. Whilst most people might have appeared awkward, he seemed at ease; as elegant as a canary resting on a tree branch.
"Here. This one's yours." She offered him one of the drinks. He blinked and didn't take it. "What's wrong? Don't you want it now?"
Amanda trawled through her knowledge of Vulcans, mentally searching for any source of offense or cultural meaning behind serving drinks to others, but she came up blank. That didn't mean there wasn't something amiss. Vulcans were such naturally private people that it left a lot of room for potential misunderstanding. It felt as though she'd inadvertently crossed a personal boundary.
Before she could apologize for her error, he said, "I accept your offer."
As the glass transferred from her hand to his, their fingertips brushed together. The symbiotic connection was instantaneous. Amanda gasped. An electric feeling passed between them. It was mind, emotion, togetherness, and self. She was still Amanda, a teacher from Earth. He was Sarek of Vulcan, an important figure in the diplomatic landscape of Starfleet. But she could feel his mind delicately reaching for her. His lingering touch didn't feel diplomatic in any way.
When he pulled away, she felt untethered and more unsure of herself than she'd ever felt in her life.
"What was that?" She breathed out, her voice trembling.
Sarek looked unsettled. "Apologies, Miss Grayson. I assumed you were aware of Vulcan tradition."
"I definitely would have remembered reading about that."
"I acted irresponsibly. It won't happen again."
"You didn't answer my question. What was that?"
"On Vulcan, it is seen as improper for a woman to serve a man who doesn't belong to her."
Understanding dawned on Amanda. "So, when I offered you the drink, you thought I was asking if you were interested in…belonging to me?"
"Affirmative," Sarek confirmed.
"And you accepted?" Amanda laughed. She couldn't help herself.
"I may have misjudged the situation," Sarek said with self-reproach.
"Just a little," Amanda agreed, although not unkindly. "And the connection we experienced?"
"That was the prelude to the Vulcan version of a 'kiss'."
"Oh." Amanda flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I should have made myself clearer."
"The mistake was mine and mine alone. I accept full responsibility. It is unfortunate our arrangement has to come to an end so soon."
"Why does it have to end?" Amanda asked, panic pulling at her heart.
"I have inconvenienced you and have made an unforgivable error. Continuing to interact with you would not be logical."
"There's more to life than logic, Sarek. You'll need to learn that if you're going to be spending time on Earth." Sarek inclined his head, his gaze questioning. He was Vulcan, so reading in between the lines didn't come naturally to him. She'd have to spell it out. "Stay. Please. You're not an inconvenience."
Sarek nodded and relief washed over her anew. She raised her glass and clinked it against his. "This," she said, "is known as a toast. Humans use it to commemorate people and things."
"What are we commemorating?"
She thought about it. "An unlikely friendship?"
Sarek blinked. "We are friends?"
Amanda hid her bemused smile by sipping her drink. Flavour danced across her tastebuds; rich, sweet chocolate mixed with coconut milk and baileys. The cold refreshment brought relief to her warmed cheeks.
Sarek followed her lead. She watched his reaction carefully but he gave nothing away. He was so graceful and kind that she suspected he would have behaved no differently had he been handed the foulest substance on Earth.
"What do you think?"
"It is cold."
"It's meant to be. That's the whole point of a milkshake."
"It is much sweeter than the beverages that can be found on Vulcan."
"You don't have to finish it if you don't like it. I won't be offended."
"The combination of taste and texture is quite appealing."
To Amanda's awe, Sarek took another generous gulp.
"Careful, you don't want to get brain freeze."
"The probability of my brain freezing from liquid consumption is minimal."
"Don't say I didn't warn you."
Amanda gingerly sipped at her own drink, whilst Sarek, ignoring her warning, continued to consume his milkshake with more enthusiasm than seemed reasonable for a Vulcan. It took less than a minute to prove that Vulcan's weren't exempt from the side effects of iced-drinks, but by then he'd drained the glass.
Sarek winced and shut his eyes. "I am experiencing physical discomfort."
"That's what happens when you don't listen to your teacher." Amanda teased but concern kicked in quickly when his discomfort didn't ease.
"This phenomenon is intolerable."
"It'll pass." She reassured him.
"When?"
"It usually only lasts a few seconds."
"Seconds have transpired. The sensation is not dissipating."
"Maybe it has something to do with you being Vulcan?" Amanda said, worry wrapping around her torso.
"Highly probable." He managed to grind out, jaw clenched.
"Okay, we can fix this." Amanda said, acting as quickly and as practically as she could manage, given her rising panic, and genuine worry that she'd managed to poison him. "Sit back."
She placed her glass and his on a nearby table, stood, and gently grabbed him by the shoulders, guiding him into a more comfortable position. "That's it. Lean your head on the backrest." He did what she said without question. "I'll be right back, OK?"
"Affirmative." He nodded, eyes still shut, usually passive face twisted with torment.
She left Sarek, returned to the bar, and ordered the quickest hot chocolate Nozig could whip up. Then, walking as fast as she could (she didn't want to raise any alarm bells with other guests), she made her way back.
"Here," she placed the mug on the table beside him, so not to give the wrong impression for a second time. "This should help."
Sarek opened his eyes and leaned forwards with a wince, picking up the mug.
"Small sips this time."
He heeded her warning and tentatively sipped the liquid.
"Better?"
"A significant improvement." He confirmed, relaxing further against the backrest. "Thank you for your assistance, Miss Grayson."
"I think we've both just learned a lesson."
"Indeed. That is not an experience I wish to repeat."
"Perhaps steer clear of cold drinks in the future."
"That is the logical conclusion."
"Are you sure you're OK?" Amanda queried, taking her seat next to him.
He nodded but she remained unconvinced. His olive skin had taken on a green tint, his copper-based blood rushing to his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears. A human might blush with embarrassment, but a Vulcan wouldn't, and therefore she concluded the change in his appearance was unrelated to emotion.
"You've gone quite flushed." She frowned.
"A likely side-effect of the contrasting temperatures I have experienced."
"That makes sense." Amanda mused. "A bit like how your fingers feel like they're burning when you go inside after being out in the snow."
"I do not know. I am unfamiliar with snow."
"It's my favourite weather."
"I do not see the appeal."
"You're definitely not alone with that opinion." Amanda said, amused by Sarek's honesty. "But it reminds me of home."
"Do you miss your home?" He asked.
"Yes, more than anything."
"Why do you not return?"
"I'm needed here. Sometimes, when a human believes in a cause, they sacrifice the people and things they love."
"Sacrifice is not alien to me." Sarek's voice was tinged with a faint trace of melancholy.
"You're pretty homesick already, aren't you?"
"Vulcans do not get 'homesick'."
"You're not longing for some familiar surroundings and faces?"
"Longing is experienced by emotional beings. I do not have the capacity to feel longing."
"OK," she said, unconvinced, "but if you ever do gain the capacity, you can always talk to me about it. I won't judge you."
"That is unlikely… but I will consider it. Thank you." He looked down at his now empty mug. "May I ask for another hot beverage?"
"You finished that one fast. I thought you weren't thirsty?"
"It was most agreeable." Sarek's lips quirked. He seemed oddly sated; the slope of his shoulders more relaxed. His face, a mask made from marble, was softer now. Whilst the change in behavior was intriguing, she was satisfied to see that he finally felt at ease.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it after the first drink almost killed you." She joked and took his mug from him.
When she returned a few moments later with another cup of steaming hot chocolate, Sarek appeared asleep. Amanda's breath caught in her throat as she stared in shock at the sight before her. He'd sprawled out across the two-seater like a dozing feline. His head dipped into his chest; body slumped, arms and legs dangling awkwardly. The poor dear looked absolutely shattered.
"Sarek?" She whispered, gently nudging him with her shoe. He didn't stir. She nudged him again. Still, nothing.
He refused to rouse. Perhaps he hadn't fallen asleep. Maybe he'd had a heart attack? He looked fit and young but surely even Vulcans, as untouchable as they appeared, weren't completely invulnerable from developing health issues.
Discarding the mug, she promptly took hold of Sarek and shook him by the shoulders. His complexion was still marred with green splotches and a worrying amount of heat rolled off of him in waves.
"Sarek, please wake up." She begged and her pleas were answered.
He jolted into life. Disorientated. Flailing. He almost hit her. She ducked and his fist missed her cheek by inches. He stared at her, breathing hard, aghast at his own actions.
"Breathe. It's alright, Sarek." She reassured him, gently helping him back into a sitting position. "Do you need a doctor?"
He shook his head.
"Are you sure?"
He nodded.
"I think I should get one anyway. They'll check you over. It shouldn't take long."
She went to leave but he grabbed her arm, silently imploring her not to.
"You're warm and flushed and you're clearly not yourself."
"Please," he murmured. "Do not."
"Okay," she said softly and sat next to him instead. "But if you get any worse you won't leave me with any choice. I won't be known as the woman who killed off the Vulcan ambassador."
He spotted the discarded hot chocolate and picked it up, humming with visible satisfaction as he drank. She shook her head, bemused at her strange new friend. Who knew Vulcans had a sweet tooth? At least this particular Vulcan did.
They fell into companionable quiet, comfortable to just relax by one another's sides. It felt right. Amanda couldn't explain it. It just did.
When Sarek finished his third drink of the night, he turned to her. There was a glassiness to his eyes that hadn't been present hours earlier.
"Miss Grayson," he said, his voice very low and very soft, and to Amanda, he suddenly sounded very vulnerable.
"You can call me Amanda. It's alright, you know."
"A-man-da?" He said slowly, desperately, his annunciation poorer than usual.
"Yes Sarek?" She whispered back.
"I am glad you are my friend."
His confession warmed her and she returned the sentiment. "I'm glad you're my friend too."
His hand gradually slid toward her, asking for permission. Heart racing at the sight, she found she couldn't deny him. She hooked her pinky around his. They were barely touching but she could sense a part of him calling out to a part of her.
"Is this inappropriate?" She asked quietly, checking his face for any sign of uneasiness. She found none.
"Deeply," he replied.
"We should probably stop."
"Negative."
He gingerly nudged her hand, seeking consent to bring their palms together. She allowed him to manipulate the positions of their hands, until her fingers slid between the gaps of his, and the bridge between their two identities caressed.
Together, they felt the intense well of loneliness pooling in his iliac region. How alien he felt amongst humans. Out of place, distant, and lost. Trapped. Existing not living. On a path he had not chosen for himself. His uncertainty about himself, his culture, his diplomatic career. They experienced pain he was neither allowed to admit or express. His mental walls were evaporating like water beneath the Vulcan sun. He felt unbalanced. Illogical. Overwhelmed. Amanda was simultaneously a catalyst that allowed him to feel and a filter. His emotions passed through her mental walls and the dam broke.
Tears slid down Amanda's cheeks. Sarek severed their connection. "Why do you cry?" He asked, confused.
"They're not mine." She furiously wiped the tears from her eyes and looked at the Vulcan, seeing him through an entirely different light. "I'm so sorry, Sarek."
"It is fine."
Amanda scoffed in disbelief. "No, it's not. No one should have to feel that way."
"How I feel is irrelevant!" Sarek sighed. His whole chest heaved. That was it. She could no longer standby and do nothing.
"Don't give me irrelevant." She all but leapt from her seat. He blinked at her. Stunned. "Come on, let's go somewhere more private."
Amanda turned and exited through the French doors in front of them. The creak and rustle of material indicated that he was following her.
When the door shut, and Amanda was certain they were alone on the balcony, she wrapped her arms tight around Sarek. He swayed unsteadily and leaned into her embrace, albeit awkwardly. Words failed her. So, she said nothing, simply held Sarek close, squeezing him as tightly to her as possible, as though her firm hold could abolish his suffering.
Sarek was Vulcan, so he could not express his inner conflict. But Amanda was human. His heartache was her heartache. She wept for him. Her tears soaked deep into the material of his Opelal, surely ruining the official robes beyond repair, but she didn't care, and he didn't stop her.
Being held was so obviously alien to Sarek, but he permitted the invasion of his personal space. He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried the crook of his nose against her neck. His breaths were short, barely controlled puffs against her ear, and she knew that he was doing everything in his power to maintain in control of his emotions. He clung to logic even when it had deserted him.
Eventually, her crying reached physical limitations. Amanda could produce no more tears. Sarek also seemed to have spent his energy, his rapid breathing slowing. Her grip loosened but his arms remained looped around her, as if she were his anchor and he was afraid to let go. She moved and he followed her, lifting his head away from her neck to inspect her face.
The Vulcan mask was back on, his features schooled and indifferent, as though nothing of significance had transpired. A mask was all it was. She knew that now. Below it, Sarek was raw feeling. He longed for belonging, for friendship, and for understanding. Wordlessly, he took his sleeve up to her cheeks and wiped the damp away. She supposed, in his own way, he was reassuring her that everything was going to be alright.
"Hayal," she intoned. Calm.
"Lesek." He thanked her.
Translations for this chapter:
i'khaz'el - boy
Sa'mekh-al - forefather
Ki'Shara - a Vulcan artifact
Ma'at - clan
Hayal - calm
Lesek - thank you