1. Prologue

**A/N: So, anyone who has read my other ST story, The Hand We're Dealt, might remember that in one of the chapters, Sarek told his son how he bonded Amanda against her will and took her to Vulcan when she ran off. I had fully intended to just leave it at that, as I actually never originally planned to include them at all, but then this popped into my head, and since it won't go away, I figured I should probably just go ahead and put it out there. Can't promise regularly scheduled updates, but reviews always help **

**This will be the First, and ONLY, Disclaimer, so please take it as a given that it covers the rest of this story: I don't own Star Trek. It was invented long before I was twinkle in my parent's eyes, to borrow a favorite euphemism. I can only take credit for this particular variation of the Sarek & Amanda plot.**

**A/N 2: I have absolutely no idea what to title this, so I'm open to suggestions.**

Sarek waited, internally impatient but outwardly calm, for the shuttle to land. Their departure from Vulcan had been delayed by one of the human doctors participating in the educational exchange, and being unable to make up the time was now arriving on Earth only two hours before his first meeting as the new Ambassador to Earth. He did not like to be so ill-prepared, or to have so little time. He should have had a full day to acclimate to his surroundings and prepare for his meeting with the humans.

"Ambassador, we have arrived at the shipyard. A hover car is waiting for you that will take you directly to the embassy."

"That is acceptable."

He stood as the door opened and strode down the platform, his robes billowing around him as he made his way to the hover car. He took only his briefcase with him, knowing his few belongings would be delivered to his apartment at the embassy. He could not waste time with unpacking when he had such limited time before his appointment. He knew that this first meeting with the human government would set the tone for all future meetings, and there was much that must be settled.

"Your apartment is ready, Ambassador," he was informed when he returned to the Embassy six hours later, "if you're hungry, I'll have a tray sent up for you."

"That is appropriate, Miss—" he did not know the young woman's name. They had not been introduced before his meeting, and he'd had no opportunity to learn the names of the few humans who staffed the embassy.

"Stafford, Ambassador. Lynette Stafford."

"Miss Stafford."

He stepped away, intent on reaching his new accommodations, when he realized that the human had remained where she was. She looked as if she expected something from him.

"Was there something you required, Miss Stafford?"

His expression was stern, and purposely so. He was fatigued, in need of meditation after his meeting, and was ill-equipped to deal with an overly emotional human.

"No. Have a good night, sir."

He briefly wondered if she had some sort of disease or disability that caused her to walk incorrectly. Instead of simply walking straight, her hips swayed from side to side. Perhaps she had a balance problem? His interactions with humans were limited, he would admit, but he'd never seen a human walk in that manner.

Not wasting any more thoughts on the woman, he made his way through the halls to his apartment. He had purposely memorized the layout of the embassy before landing so that he would not need a guide to find his way around.

The apartment was far larger than necessary, and he had no doubt that the building had been constructed by humans. Humans tended to build things much larger than they needed to be. No doubt they intended this apartment to be able to accommodate a family; humans did seem uncomfortable with separation from their spouses, judging from his few observations and the information relayed to him from his predecessor. Vulcans did not suffer from such a condition. Even if he was still bonded, it would be illogical for Sarek to expect his wife to leave behind her work on Vulcan simply because he desired her presence.

He found that his meditation mat and incense burner were already set out. Once he had consumed a meal he would utilize them. In anticipation of that event he changed into his meditation robes. It was appropriate, as he had no other engagements for the evening.

Exactly twenty minutes after he arrived, a knock on his door alerted him that his meal was ready. The woman he'd encountered before was standing in the hallway, a tray in her hands.

"Dinner, sir. Where would you like me to set it?"

"I will take it, Miss Stafford. You may retire for the evening."

When she didn't immediately respond, he turned his attention to her, and realized that she was not listening to him. Her gaze seemed fixed on his torso, rather than his face, or even the apartment, as he would have expected of a curious human. What a strange creature this Lynette Stafford was. His physical appearance (apart from his ears) was no different than a human male. There was no discernible reason for her staring.

"Miss Stafford."

He spoke louder, and she actually jumped and looked up at him, startled by his speaking.

"I will take my food, Miss Stafford. You may retire for the evening."

Her face took on a reddish hue as the blood began to rush to her face. Strange, she did not appear feverish.

"Are you unwell, Miss Stafford?"

"No, sir. Have a good night, sir."

She left, walking at a much faster pace than she had during their previous meeting, and he heard her muttering to herself. Humans were such strange beings. He would have to be more observant of their customs, so that he dealt with them properly.

Consuming a meal and meditating proved helpful in processing the day's events for his report to the High Council. He was uncertain of the tone of the meeting with the human government. They had seemed friendly and accommodating, but he felt in their thoughts a hidden worry, and in the minds of some, a feeling of insult that the Vulcans had dared to send them an inexperienced ambassador. Several seemed to believe that because he had not served in an ambassadorial position before, he lacked the knowledge to perform his duties. He was considered unqualified in the minds of some, which disturbed him; he could read their resolve to not treat him seriously, and their belief that they could take advantage of his inexperience.

After carefully processing the emotions the day's meeting had engendered, he was able to set them aside and focus on the events themselves. He was able to create a thorough report and send it off to T'Pau, and proceed to the next task that awaited him. There were a number of invitations from some of those humans he had dealt with earlier, those few who had not been adverse to his presence, had in fact welcomed him into his new position. Those would be the individuals whom he would cultivate. He would, of course, make the effort to understand the positions of his opponents, but it would not be a productive use of his time to attempt to change their opinion of him. Only time working together would alter their perceptions of his abilities.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, I was happily surprised at the attention that this new idea received. To everyone who reviewed, thanks so very much. This is still untitled, as I just can't think of a good one at the moment, so I'm still taking suggestions. Suggestions usually help me come up with something. Reviews are very much appreciated, and I'll do my best to answer them.**

Amanda Grayson pushed her door open and stalked through it, throwing her purse on her desk. Once again she cursed Mondays, when they followed the weekend she'd just had. Forty-five minutes until classes started: just enough time to get a cup of coffee (and maybe spike it with some Bailey's). With that goal in mind, she hurried to the department lounge so she could get to the treasured cappuccino machine before any of her professors or fellow graduate students. The only good thing about this week was the fact that she wasn't student teaching, so she didn't have to deal with any children. Much as she loved them, she knew that today interaction with children would be unhealthy all around.

"Amanda, how was your weekend?"

She didn't even deign to give an answer to that question; she just punched her order into the machine and waited for it to prepare her cup. They were fortunate enough to have a real coffee maker that produced real coffee. No replicator swill for them, not at the university.

"Earth to Amanda, are you even listening?"

"I'm doing my very best not to, Sean."

Her coffee ready, she left the young man to gawk at her and returned to her office. She just wasn't in the mood for a conversation. All she wanted was to get through the classes she assisted with, then hole up in her office and spend the rest of the day working on her Masters thesis. She only had two more months to turn it in, and then a month more before she stood in front of the review board. Time was ticking away. Summer would be here before she knew it, and then her first classroom that would be entirely hers. She wouldn't be just a teacher's Aide, or student teaching, she would be Ms. Grayson. She couldn't wait.

"Amanda, good to see you in. How was your weekend?"

She'd managed to get in an hour of uninterrupted work before this disturbance, but since he was her advisor, she couldn't give him the same Glare of Death she'd given everyone else that passed her door with a question. He could have an actual effect on her career.

"It was exactly what I expected it to be, Tom. What about you?"

The older man took the comment for the "leave me the hell alone about it already" that it was meant to be, and left that line of questioning.

"It was good. We went out to the lake. How's the thesis coming?"

"It's coming along well. I should have the next chapter done by the end of the week."

She waited for him to get to the point. He never stopped by just to chat: he left it to her to work at her own pace, only periodically checking in on her progress to make sure she'd reach the deadline. Apart from that, he pretty much left her to her work, and made himself available to answer any questions she had. It was a good system for her.

"Good. That's good news. There was actually something I wanted to ask you to do for me."

"I already told you I'm not signing up for the auction at the fundraiser."

It was absolutely demeaning; to be auctioned off like a painting, just to raise money for the university. She fully intended to be sick or injured the night of the fundraiser.

"And I already told you that it's not an optional event. But this actually has nothing to do with next week. I need you to escort the Vulcan Ambassador around the university and answer any questions he has."

"What?"

"You heard me. I was supposed to show him around myself, but a mandatory meeting's been called that I can't miss."

"And just why would the Vulcan Ambassador want a tour of the school? Shouldn't he be more concerned with abassadoring? Ambassing? Whatever you call it? Doing ambassadorial stuff?"

Tom smiled at her. She worked so hard, it was easy to forget she was only nineteen years old, and just barely that. Not the youngest student San Francisco State ever admitted, but close to it. She was nearly as young as his oldest daughter.

"I think this does count as 'ambassadorial stuff'. Carter asked me for a favor, but I can't get out of this meeting, so I need you to show the ambassador around. And be polite to him."

"I'm always polite."

Amanda looked up at the man in disbelief. First of all, when was she not polite? More importantly, how could he expect her to drop her first chance in a month to get some solid work done on her thesis to show a Vulcan around? Senator Carter was his brother-in-law, not hers, so why did this become her problem?

"Yeah. Tell that to Randall Williamson. His testicle retrieval operation went well, in case you were wondering."

"I still maintain that he kicked himself in the balls."

And even if she had done such a thing, it was completely deserved. Randall Williamson had been one of those who thought 'leave me the hell alone' meant 'oh yes I can't wait to jump into bed with you'. She'd been a hero to the other female TA's and undergrad students.

"Either way, none of that with the ambassador. You are to be polite and charming, and helpful."

"Seriously Tom, I can't do it. I'm sorry for the ambassador and everything, but I have way too much to get done this week before I go back to student teaching. I'm sure you can find someone else to give a tour."

The university had tour guides. Why couldn't Tom just call one up from the Admissions office? They could give the ambassador all the mundane details he could possibly want.

"Amanda, I really need you to help me out with this one. The ambassador wants to learn about Earth educational processes, and the campus tour guides can't give him the detail he'll want."

"And you think I can?"

The look on his face said 'cut the bullshit now, please.'

"Since you're almost a teacher? Yes, I think you can. And your assistance with the ambassador will go a long way towards all those job recommendations you're asking for."

"That's blackmail!"

"Yes."

He had her in a corner, and they both knew it. Her transcripts and student teaching would speak very highly for her, but nothing would make as much difference as the recommendation from her professor when it came to job placement. She wasn't the only graduating teacher who'd applied at the local school system. She'd fallen in love with San Francisco while attending college, and she didn't really want to go back north. California was such a nice distance from Newfoundland.

"Damn it."

"Good girl. I've already spoken to Dr. Sabol, you'll be excused from class today. The ambassador will be here in an hour, and he'll meet you at the entrance of the library. You know, it wouldn't hurt you to run a comb through your hair."

An hour? Ignoring the fact that an hour's notice was just beyond rude, she wasn't dressed to show anyone around the campus. She was dressed for sitting in a classroom and working on a paper.

"I think I hate you."

"I'm okay with that."

He left her, still cursing him. Only an hour to do something with her clothes, and her hair, and get across campus to the library to meet this guy? Tom must have lost his ever loving mind. Good thing her apartment was just across the road. She should have enough time to make herself presentable and still meet the ambassador on time. Muttering to herself, she tossed her PADD into her bag and locked her door, tossing a hurried explanation over her shoulder to her neighbor.

ST-ST-ST-ST-ST-ST-sT-sT-ST

Sarek stood, waiting, outside the library as directed. He was uncertain of this course of action. Was touring a university really the best use of his time? Andrew Carter had suggested that it would be useful to do so, as he would gain a better understanding of Earth's educational system. He might better understand the Senators and Councillors he must work with if he had a better knowledge of the fundamental teachings of Earth. His query as to how a university would expand his knowledge of fundamental Earth teachings better than a primary education facility had been met with a smile and a "trust me, children will destroy any patience for humans that you might have."

Where was this Doctor Rooker? His appointment was for 2:30, and it was now 2:34. Did humans not believe in punctuality? If this man could not be on time, it did not bode well for the rest of this tour.

Amanda pushed through the small crowd of students that seemed determined to take up the walkway. She was late, and that was probably not the best impression to make. On the one hand, the water heater burst when she was home to change, which meant that she could shut off the water and call maintenance immediately instead of coming home to a flooded apartment, a pain in the butt if ever there was one. On the other hand, this was really the worst day for a problem like that to happen, and it had taken too long for the property manager and maintenance team to get there, and she couldn't leave until they showed up. What should have taken only twenty minutes to accomplish had instead taken nearly an hour. She might seriously murder Tom.

It wasn't hard to pick the Vulcan out of the crowd. He stood off to the side, apart from the mass of humanity that seemed to flow around him. He also looked incredibly disapproving of what he saw. Wonderful.

_Give him the benefit of the doubt, Amanda. He's Vulcan. Maybe they're just born looking disapproving of everything._

As she got closer, she could see that he looked young for an ambassador. The word "ambassador" drew a picture of someone middle-aged, already graying at the temples. This Vulcan looked like he couldn't be more than thirty.

"Ambassador?"

The Vulcan looked over at her, and she was momentarily struck dumb. His eyes seemed to bore into her, and she'd always had a thing for a man's eyes.

_Get it together, Grayson!_

"Good afternoon. My name is Amanda Grayson, and I'll be showing you around the university this afternoon."

He raised a single eyebrow, and Amanda had to remind herself to breathe. How on Earth was that single gesture sexy? She gave him a small smile. Maybe this afternoon wouldn't be too terrible after all.

"My meeting was with Doctor Rooker."

"Yes. Unfortunately, Tom was pulled into a mandatory meeting. He asked me to show you around in his place, and answer any questions you might have. Where would you like to begin?"

"I fail to understand why Doctor Rooker would believe that a student could answer my questions. If another member of the faculty is unavailable, I will reschedule the appointment."

Okay then, good feeling was gone. Amanda knew she looked young; hell, she was the youngest TA on the campus. But still, to dismiss her simply because of her age just grated against everything. Where did this guy get off assuming that she couldn't help him just because she was young?

"I am one of Doctor Rooker's Teaching Assistants, Ambassador. I can assure you that I can answer any of your questions as well as or better than another member of the faculty. However, if you can't manage to take your head out of your ass long enough to give me the benefit of the doubt rather than making assumptions, I'm happy to let Tom reschedule something that works for both of you. Good afternoon."

She spun on her heel, determined to walk away like a mature professional, instead of stomping off like a child who'd gotten her pigtails pulled.

"I have offended you. Fascinating."

Okay, seriously? He'd just been beyond rude and offensive, and he found that fascinating?

"I'm so glad I can amuse you."

"I do not find your behavior amusing, Miss Grayson. It is, however, fascinating to observe just how quickly humans take insult to simple, logical statements."

Okay, she'd had just about enough of this guy. He was insufferable, and that was "logical"? The ego of the man! What she wouldn't give to be able to lock herself into her office and scream into her pillow right now. Tom owed her, so very, very much, for putting her through this.

"You believe implying that I can't do my job just because I'm not the person you were expecting is 'logical'?"

"Based on my limited knowledge of Terran education systems, the odds of a human of your age possessing the necessary understanding to answer my questions are 1 in 187,216.4395 thousand. Therefore, it is only logical to conclude that you are most likely unqualified to fill the role that Doctor Rooker has assigned to you. If, however, you are indeed his teaching assistant, this must mean that you are advanced in your studies and I must conclude that I was incorrect in my assessment of your abilities. Let us begin with the human education regarding the Federation of Planets. You can explain this as we tour the campus."

Amanda was sure her eyes were bulging out of her head like a cartoon character. He seriously expected—after he just-

"You know what, let's just-yeah. As you're no doubt aware, this is our library, where we house all of our reference materials for student's research projects, as well as the collections of literature from other Federation planets."

She would get through this afternoon. She would answer any of the ambassador's questions, she would do her level best not to kick him in the balls, and she would get him out of her hair. He would become Tom's problem after this afternoon, if he had any further questions, and she would get back to her thesis, and never have to see the insufferable (_HOT, Grayson, HOT!_) Vulcan again.

ST-ST-ST-ST-ST-ST-ST-ST

Sarek returned to the embassy, feeling content with his tour of the university. Amanda Grayson was most advanced in intelligence for her age. She had taken insult to a logical conclusion, but once they commenced the tour, she proved to be quite knowledgeable about a number of subjects. It was likely that Doctor Rooker could have provided more complete information than Miss Grayson, but Sarek could not say that she was in any way deficient.

In his opinion the young woman was overly emotional, but that was likely due to her young age. She was barely past human adolescence, not yet considered a full adult even by their standards. By Vulcan standards, she was still a child. Despite her youth, he was appreciative of the young woman. Because of her assistance, Sarek felt that he did indeed have a better understanding of the human position, which would be most useful when he next met with his human contemporaries.

"Good afternoon, Ambassador," he was greeted by Lynette Stafford. He nodded at her as he passed, wondering as he did why she suddenly changed her posture, pulling her shoulders back farther than he thought was natural, pushing her chest forward. Vulcan males did so when preparing to spar, or issue a challenge, though that was becoming a rarer occurrence. He did not understand the gesture in a human female.

"You received a call from Senator Carter. He'd like you to contact him, and set up a meeting with the finance committee."

"Very well Miss Stafford. Arrange a call to the Senator's office. I will take it in my apartment. Have a meal sent up as well."

"Of course, sir. Anything I can do to assist you."

His office would be more professional, but it was not yet completely reordered, and as he had yet to consume a meal for the day, the apartment was more appropriate for that purpose. He also had a call to Vulcan scheduled within the hour, and that was a call he intended to make from the privacy of his apartment.

"Ambassador, thank you for getting back to me so quickly." Andrew Carter's face filled his video screen. "How was your tour of the university?"

"It was adequate."

"Good. Did Tom answer all of your questions?"

"Dr. Rooker was unavailable. I was met by one of his assistants, a Miss Grayson. She was able to answer all inquiries."

The human looked surprised by that announcement, and unless Sarek was mistaken, concerned.

"If she was in any way impolite or insulting, Ambassador—"

"She was not."

He did not mention her comment about the anatomical impossibility of removing his head from his anus, as he'd been able to ascertain from a brief brush of skin that she'd felt provoked, and later sorry for the outburst. He took no offense from it.

"Really?"

Sarek found it curious that the human was surprised by that declaration.

"That's good then. Now, about the reason for my call, the Presidential Council would like to set up a meeting with you this week. President MtuTu in particular wishes to meet you."

President MtuTu? Ah yes, the president of the African Union. Sarek had yet to meet the man, but he was well briefed on all of those heads of Earth's governments. If his information was correct, much of the African continent was like Vulcan; arid and desert. It might be pleasant to visit there, should he be provided the opportunity.

"That will be acceptable. I will direct the embassy to arrange it."

"Very good."

They continued to speak for several minutes, until the meal Sarek requested arrived. The senator immediately ended the call, which he found pleasing. His brief from the previous ambassador had explicitly stated that the majority of humans he would come into contact with had the tendency to draw out polite excuses and farewells, and find offense if he failed to do so as well. "Flattery and flowery rhetoric over expediency", Ambassador Tu'rin had called it. Sarek could anticipate that Senator Carter would not necessarily follow this pattern.

He had just enough time to consume the food on his tray before a beep informed him that he had an incoming call from Vulcan. He pressed the "accept call" button and the screen was filled with a child's face.

"Father."

"Sybok. I trust you remain in optimum health?"

"Indeed."

"Your grandmother tells me that you progress satisfactorily in your studies."

"Yes."

He was finding it difficult to converse with his son. Only five standard years of age, Sybok had spent nearly all of those years with his maternal grandmother. Sarek knew little of the child, apart from the regular progress reports T'Lia sent him.

He knew that the blame for that landed solely on his shoulders: he'd had the opportunity to care for his son himself, but had instead claimed it more "logical" to leave the boy with his mother's family. Though his bondmate, T'Iman, had been a virtual stranger to him until the day she died bringing the child into the world, he'd felt the loss of their mating bond keenly. Newly widowed, and suffering from a broken bond, he had not believed himself capable of caring for the newborn son, and was satisfied to leave him in the care of T'Iman's family.

"You are meditating sufficiently?"

He knew from experience how difficult meditation could be for a child of his clan. Those of direct descent from Surak were some of the most emotional of their race. They had to work harder even than their peers to suppress their emotions, and achieve the serenity of logic. Sybok must understand the importance of this early, so as not to lose control and bring possible harm to another.

"I am. You are on Earth now, are you not?"

"Indeed."

"Are the humans as different from us as our teachers imply?"

Sarek examined his son's face closely. He could see the boy's excitement, and curiosity. He was showing more emotion than would be considered proper by T'Pau, was he in her care. Intellectual curiosity was to be encouraged, but it would seem that Sybok needed to spend more time in the meditation disciplines. He would make certain to bring it to T'Lia's attention.

Sybok waited for an answer to his question. Sarek spent the remaining hour answering all queries put by his son, even those that he believed illogical. He ended the call with a reminder to the child to continue pursuing his studies, and to aim for better focus during his meditation. His son had so much potential, and it was his duty as a father to help him fulfill it. He did not think it prideful to admit that he was certain Sybok could do great things in this universe, and become an example for others of his race to aspire to.


	3. Chapter 2

Sarek sat, unimpressed, by the opera he was currently attending. He had learned to appreciate opera during his studies of Terran culture, but this particular production was inferior. The cast, while not lacking enthusiasm, lacked the ability to stay on pitch, which was torture to his sensitive Vulcan hearing. They also seemed to lack the ability to keep up with the tempo of the music. Truly, this was something he would expect from young students, not professional performers.

"A bit torturous, isn't it?" Andrew Carter leaned over to whisper softly. The invitation to come had been extended by the senator, and Sarek, along with a small entourage that he was informed was required for an ambassador, sat with the senator and his wife.

"Is it their intention to offend the hearing of everyone present?"

It was a legitimate question, as humans could act so illogically. He did not expect the laughter that Mrs. Carter had to work to suppress. He had not intended the question to be amusing.

The wait until intermission seemed interminable, and Sarek left the theater as soon as propriety allowed. It would be an obligation to return for the second act, and he was not eager for the event. He made his way through the press of bodies as carefully as possible, not wishing to come into accidental telepathic contact with any of them.

Once he was away from the crowd he was able to center himself again, and consider the production from another point of view. The performers might be lacking, but the remainder of the production was acceptable. The sets were aesthetically pleasing, the costuming appropriate. Indeed, if one could simply ignore the voices on the stage, the performance might almost be enjoyable.

"Get your filthy hands off me, you perv!" he heard in what could only be described as an infuriated hiss, coming from only a few meters away. Sarek could surmise that whoever spoke did not want their conversation overheard, but considering the distressed tone in what must surely be a female voice, he felt obligated to investigate. He rounded the numerous potted trees that stood higher than his head (and wondered as he did why humans felt the need to bring greenery into even a theater) and saw that a young human woman was indeed making the effort to extricate her arm from the grip of a human male. As he drew closer he recognized the female: it was the young woman who had given him a tour of the university campus the previous month.

"Miss Grayson?"

She only spared a glance at him before she returned her attention to the one manhandling her. The male turned his attention to Sarek, and he could smell the alcohol on the man's breath as he spoke.

"Take a hike, buddy! She's mine and she's coming with me!"

He raised an eyebrow at the statements. Buddy?

"It would seem that she does not agree with you. I must insist that you release her at once."

"SHE is right here and she can speak for herself, thank you. Peter, let me go now, before I hurt you!"

"Not a chance, babe. I paid good money for you, and I'm going to get my money's worth!"

The male she'd named Peter attempted to pull her into an embrace, even as she attempted to pull away. Sarek debated whether to intervene. It was clear that the young woman was in need of assistance, but he must consider the publicity such action could bring on the Embassy, and his people.

"You try to grab me one more damn time and I'm reporting you to Chancellor Wallace, you asshole. Now let me go!"

The man must have been very intoxicated to not recognize the threat implicit in Miss Grayson's tone. When the young woman collided quite solidly with the wall in her attempt to escape, Sarek decided that he must intervene. The man was quite likely to severely injure her in his attempt to force her to leave with him (indeed, she did look slightly stunned), which Sarek would not tolerate. He quickly crossed the short distance to the pair and took hold of the Peter's arm.

"Release Miss Grayson at once."

His grip was tight, and it tightened further. If he applied any more of his strength, he could easily shatter every bone in the appendage. The man began cursing at him, and tried to pull his arm free until he realized it was a futile attempt. He quickly released Miss Grayson's arm, and that young woman backed as far away from the two males as possible, until she was stopped by the wall.

"Do you wish to have this man arrested for assault, Miss Grayson?"

It would have been more satisfying to simply beat the man who seemed comfortable with attacking those who were weaker. Sarek was certain he could even find a logical reason to do so. Unfortunately, humans had their own methods for dealing with such people (as did Vulcans, he reminded himself).

"Let go of me! Do you know who I am?!"

"I do not, nor does your identity matter to me. You assaulted a female, you should be incarcerated."

"Ambassador? What's going on here?"

Sarek was unaware of when the senator and his wife had joined them, but he knew the man's voice currently questioning him. It was somewhat painful to his sensitive hearing when both the man in his grip and Miss Grayson spoke at once, loudly.

"This guy's crazy! Tell him to let me go!"

"Seriously?! Like we really needed an audience for this?"

"This man assaulted the woman," Sarek explained to the Carter's, who were still looking to him. It was only when he looked at them that he saw that rest of his entourage had accompanied them. "I intervened on her behalf."

"I didn't need your help, Ambassador."

"The bruising around your wrist suggests otherwise, Miss Grayson. I have no doubt that he would have succeeded in removing you from the building."

Did she not realize this as well? He had a clear telepathic connection with the man, and could read his intentions. Peter was fully determined to take Miss Grayson, not only from the theater, but to his home, and his intentions were less than honorable.

"He's an asshole and a pervert, but nothing I couldn't have handled."

Ah. She must have overestimated her ability to deal with such an individual. He could understand that. Humans often tended to believe that they were better equipped to handle a situation than they actually were. According to his predecessor, human females were even more susceptible to such self-delusion than males.

"Amanda, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Marianne. Peter's just had a little too much to drink, and needs to go home now."

"Amanda, if the man attacked you, he needs to be arrested."

Amanda was ready to scream. There were entirely too many people now mixed up in Peter Hoffer's attempt to proposition her, and they seemed determined to call the police. And none of them seemed inclined to listen to her opinion on the incident. She didn't want to deal with having to give a statement to the police, not when they would simply tell her she was over reacting and then just let the idiot go free. She was grateful to the Vulcan Ambassador for intervening, even if she refused to admit it, but she didn't see the point in pressing charges.

To make matters worse, armed police officers showed up not a minute later. She wondered what they were even doing at the theater, since there was no way they made it from the police station so quickly. What was surprising was that they actually arrested Peter, after a brief conversation with Andrew, and with the Ambassador. The intoxicated man was yelling belligerently, but they weren't paying any attention to that. The officer in charge actually asked her if she was alright, and whether she thought she needed medical attention, before informing her that she would need to come down to the station and give a statement, along with the ambassador.

"I would advise that you seek medical attention, Miss Grayson. You did suffer an impact with a hard surface."

He could not say why he felt rather protective of the young human he'd met only once before, but attributed it to the fact that it was instinctual for Vulcans to protect those who could not protect themselves. They were a society that valued life, after all. It was surely that alone that propelled him into action.

The look Amanda gave him suggested that she did not agree with his claim, nor that she appreciated his revealing the extent to which she had been manhandled by the man now in police custody. She must have intended to keep that information to herself, which puzzled him, until he observed the reaction his declaration drew from the senator's wife.

"Amanda, you need to go to the hospital. Now."

"I'm fine Marianne. I just hit the wall, that's it."

"You are not fine, young lady, you could have a concussion! And Tom would never forgive me if I let something happen to you and didn't make sure you were alright!"

The young woman gave Sarek a look that, if he was interpreting it correctly, suggested that he was somehow to blame for the current situation.

"Do you need an ambulance, Miss?"

"Absolutely not!" Amanda whirled on the officer who'd asked. As if the entire evening was mortifying enough. She wasn't about to take a blasted ambulance for a little bump on the head. "I don't need an ambulance!"

"I'll take you to the ER myself, Amanda. Don't worry about it."

Amanda resisted the urge to scream (again). This was getting ridiculous. There was no need for the ER, or even a trip to the police station, but it looked like no one else was getting that. Perhaps fortunately, Andrew managed to derail that suggestion by reminding his wife that they couldn't leave the President, and that she didn't look to be in serious condition. She felt a surge of gratitude for that. This was over-fussing at it's finest already, she wasn't about to be the cause of some intergalactic incident. She would never hear the end of it back home.

"I'm sure the president will understand, Andrew. This is serious, and I'm not leaving her alone! You know she'll just skip the ER and take off if we don't go with her."

Sarek watched the exchange between husband and wife, and Amanda Grayson's reaction to it, and had to conclude that Mrs. Carter was likely correct. Amanda appeared to be searching for any possible exit from the scene. Did the young woman have no self-preservation instincts? Logic dictated that medical attention to ensure no serious injuries was in order, yet she seemed determined to avoid it.

"There is no need, Mrs. Carter. I am capable of seeing to it that Miss Grayson receives medical attention before giving a statement to the police."

It was a logical suggestion. They both needed to make a statement of the events of the evening. It was no inconvenience to detour to the hospital for a medical examination. And if they left now, as the performance had resumed, they should be able to escape any unwanted attention from their fellow attendees. Unfortunately for his sensitive hearing, his suggestion brought a myriad of comments from those around him, at the same time.

"I'll have an officer accompany you to the hospital to take your statement, miss."

"This is completely unnecessary!"

"Oh, thank you so much ambassador! Amanda, stop being stubborn and cooperate with the man for once!"

"Ambassador, is this something that should be brought to the attention of the High Council?"

SA-SA-SA-SA-SA-SA-SA-SA

Amanda still wasn't sure how it all happened, but she found herself sitting on a hospital bed giving her statement to an officer who introduced herself as Katherine Fogel. At least they'd sent a woman. And to be fair, Fogel was as compassionate as she was professional; there were none of the accusations and harsh questions that Amanda had expected.

But still—she knew she didn't have a concussion (goodness knew she'd had enough of them in her life to recognize one), and while Peter had been a controlling asshole, he hadn't actually done anything. He hadn't even managed to get her out of the building, thanks to the Vulcan who waited outside the room as the two women spoke. They were making far too much out of nothing, which Amanda made a point of telling the one officer who was finally listening to her. She appreciated that the ambassador had chosen to act rather than ignore the situation he'd run across (how many people would do that, realistically?), but everyone was overreacting.

And now she was waiting to get the all clear from the doctor so that she could go home. She'd already had to sit through x-rays, and the blasted penlight right into her eyes. The headache which had been developing slowly was now hitting full force, and she just wanted to go home and sleep it off. Just how long did it take for the man to tell her she was fine? He'd been gone far too long, in her opinion. At least tomorrow was Saturday, so she had no classes to worry about. She wasn't even going to bother with her homework until Sunday.

"Alright, Miss Grayson, I believe that's all the information I need. If you remember anything else pertaining to this incident, give me a call," Fogel finished up as she pulled out a card and handed it to her, "my comm. number is on the bottom. Call day or night."

Amanda thanked the woman who quickly left her to her own devices. It was a scant three minutes later that the ambassador returned, and resumed his seat in the single chair in the room. He said nothing, which suited her just fine. She wasn't in the mood to make small talk; she just wanted to get out of here.

"Alright, Miss Grayson," the doctor finally made his way back into the room, looking at the PADD in his hands rather than any of the room's occupants, "the x-rays did show some slight swelling and bruising at the impact site. I don't believe it's anything to be overly concerned about, but I want to keep you overnight for observation."

"That's not going to happen. I'm going home."

The last thing she needed to do was spend the night in the hospital, with nurses coming in every two hours to check her vital signs. She'd never get any sleep.

"Do you have a roommate, or someone who can keep an eye on you? I can't clear you to leave to go off alone."

"Then I'll sign out Against Medical Advice, but I'm not spending the night being poked and prodded every two hours. No one ever sleeps in a hospital, and I really need to get to sleep."

She leveled the doctor with her best glare. He looked fairly young, probably mid-thirties; the glare should work. It was the older doctors who always looked at her like she was a child. He returned the glare with a hint of a smirk, but thankfully managed to smother it.

"I'll make you a deal, Miss Grayson. If you have someone you can stay with, I'll release you."

She bit back the urge to curse. She couldn't call Tom- she would never hear the end of it. Really, never hear the end of it. He would fuss over her worse than her own father would (on the other hand, the guilt over the fact that she ended up in this situation would be immense, probably enough that she would never have to participate in that auction again). She couldn't call any of her friends; she didn't really have any in San Francisco. And there was no way on God's green Earth that she was flying back home for the weekend, even if the doctor would clear her to fly, which she doubted.

"I will assume responsibility for Miss Grayson," Sarek informed the doctor before turning to the young woman in question, "There are a number of vacant rooms that should suit your needs."

It wasn't a good option, in her opinion, putting her in a building full of Vulcans, but it looked like the only one that let her get out of this hospital without having to stay with Tom or Marianne.

"Thank you, Ambassador. I appreciate your hospitality."

With that settled, the doctor was finally willing to release her, and in twenty minutes she found herself in the ambassador's transport, on her way to spend the evening at the Vulcan embassy.

SA-SA-SA-SA-SA-SA-SA-SA-SA-SA

"Holy shit," Amanda breathed when the transport flitted to a stop in the embassy garage. There were several more parked in a precise row, and all of them cost more than Amanda could hope to make in two years teaching.

And the embassy itself….Amanda had never been inside such an opulent building. She was almost afraid to touch anything as the ambassador escorted her inside. She was greeted with blank looks on the faces of the few vulcans she passed, as she followed the ambassador blindly through the corridors, having no clue where she was actually going. He led her through hallways down a wing that he explained housed the guest rooms, and stopped in front of a large door.

"This will be your room for the evening. A member of the staff will monitor you throughout the night to ensure that you are well."

How was that any different from staying in the hospital? She didn't realize she'd spoken out loud until the ambassador answered her.

"They will not disturb your rest, Miss Grayson. If you are agreeable, one of the embassy healers will be able to ascertain your health by a simple touch of their hand. You will not be disturbed in any way. I believe you will find appropriate sleeping garments in the dresser. Should you need my assistance, I will leave my extension number with you."

He left her standing in a room that was larger than her entire apartment. As soon as he was gone, she made her way over to the dresser, and found several pajama sets. They even felt like real satin, or were they silk? She'd only ever seen things as nice as this in the stores. They certainly weren't anything she could afford as a poor student. She decided it didn't matter as she stripped out of her dress and into the most comfortable night clothes she'd ever worn, before sliding into a bed that could easily accommodate four people. She didn't care if the healers did wake her up while checking on her. This was much better than spending the night at the hospital.

"Miss Grayson, the ambassador requests your presence," were the words that woke her from a deep sleep, and she blearily rolled over to check the time. She nearly shrieked when she saw that it was almost eleven in the morning. She never slept so late. Amanda looked over to see who'd woken her, and was surprised to see a human woman standing just inside the room. She looked less than pleased that her duties for the day included waking Amanda up, and she had to wonder what she'd done to piss off this woman she'd never met.

"Sure. No problem."

She stretched as she sat up, and slid out of the bed. Big problem. The only clothes she had with her was the dress she wore last night. She couldn't wear that back to her apartment. If anyone caught her…..it would feel way too much like a walk of shame.

"Um…."

"You should find suitable clothes in the second drawer, Miss Grayson. I'll collect you in twenty minutes."

With that, the woman spun on her heel and walked out, before Amanda could even call out her thanks. Now Amanda really had to wonder what this woman's problem was. She hadn't even introduced herself, for crying out loud! Still, she only had twenty minutes to make herself presentable for the ambassador; she didn't have time to puzzle this out.

Her growling stomach reminded her of how long it had been since she'd eaten, but she ignored it. It didn't look like anyone had brought her anything while she'd slept, and she didn't have time to do anything about it. She promised herself that she'd have an early lunch as soon as she got home.

Okay, it was just kind of scary that she had clothes waiting for her, in her size. How would they even know that? Everything was beautiful, but it was a little disturbing that someone had managed to correctly guess her size. Unless they just kept a full spectrum of clothing in all sizes for any hypothetical guest?—but that seemed a little overkill, even for vulcans.

She was dressed and ready when the woman showed up at the door again, precisely twenty minutes later. Amanda had an even better chance to take everything in, now that she was actually awake to appreciate what she was seeing. It was another trek down corridors that she knew she'd never recognize if left on her own before she found herself in the wing where the ambassador was housed. They came to a stop in front of an imposing door the woman knocked on before pushing open.

"Miss Grayson is here, Ambassador."

And suddenly it made sense. The woman had taken an entirely different tone of voice when speaking to the Vulcan, and Amanda knew flirting when she saw it. She bit her lip to keep from laughing as the woman pulled her shoulders back so far she was afraid something would dislocate in an effort to push her chest forward. This woman was obviously trying to get the ambassador's attention in a personal capacity, and it didn't appear to be working.

"That will be all, Miss Stafford."

Amanda stepped around the woman who should, by rights, have turned a shade darker than an Orion, and into what had to be the ambassador's private apartment. She looked around curiously until she saw the Vulcan in question watching her from his seat behind a desk.

"Good morning, Ambassador."

"I trust you are now fully recovered? The healers informed me there were no ill effects from your injury last night."

"I'm completely fine. No concussion or anything."

"Then I will return you to your residence."

That surprised her. She'd expected that he might get one of his flunkies to take her home, if he didn't just order a cab, but not that he'd take her home himself. For some reason she felt that his knowing where she lived could be a bad thing, but chalked that up to the rather intense dreams she'd had the night before. Pain medication always gave her the strangest dreams. She was just thankful that none of them were x-rated, since she didn't know much at all about Vulcan telepathy.

"You don't have to bother. I can just get a cab, or-"

"I gave my word to Senator and Mrs. Carter that I would assume responsibility for you, and I shall see you safely to your home."

Well, when he put it that way…..

"And perhaps you might answer a query on our journey?"

SA-SA-SA-SA-SA-SA-SA-SA-SA

Sarek waited until they were in his hover car and Amanda was giving directions to her apartment to ask his question. Judging from her reaction to him on their first meeting, he had concluded that she might easily misunderstand or take offense to his query, and he did not wish to disrupt those at the embassy.

"The male last night said that he had paid money for you. I do not understand his meaning. Slavery has long been illegal on Earth, has it not?"

Her laughter surprised him. He did not think his query humorous; this was a most serious matter. If humans were engaged in slavery, Vulcan would be forced to withdraw their support of the planet. This news could have far-reaching consequences.

"At least you didn't call me a hooker, after that comment."

Hooker? Oh, yes, standard slang for a prostitute. Both were foreign words, as there were no prostitutes as humans understood them on Vulcan. There were those whose profession was to assist males through Pon Farr, if for some reason they had no bond mate, but that was not a question of payment for sexual services, it was an issue of assisting one through a biological drive that would otherwise prove fatal.

He only grew more confused as she explained the concept of raising funds for the university by auctioning off the company of members of the faculty. Did they not consider that doing so opened up opportunities for incidents such as the one last night?

She laughed again when he questioned the wisdom of such an activity.

"I've been saying the same thing for the past two years. This is my building, just ahead."

He directed the car into the apartment complex she indicated, surprised to find that he did not care for the fact that their discussion would be ended so soon.

"Thanks for the ride home, Ambassador. I'll get this stuff back to the embassy as soon as I can."

"Thanks are unnecessary, Miss Grayson. As is returning the items."

"Amanda. You can call me Amanda."

"Amanda." The name rolled pleasingly off the tongue, a fact he refused to acknowledge. He waited until she was safely inside her building before he began the return journey to the embassy, wondering at the odds that they might meet again. She was certainly one of the more agreeable humans of his acquaintance, and perhaps she might help to explain certain human behavior he found puzzling.


	4. Chapter 3

"What's this I hear about you being assaulted by Peter Hoffer!"

Amanda winced as Tom's statement increased in volume by several decibels. She was pretty sure that most of the people on the hall could hear him now.

"Tom, that happened like a month ago. And I'm fine."

Her reassurance was not at all reassuring, if the look on his face was anything to go by.

"Exactly! It happened a month ago, and I'm just now hearing about it?! Why didn't you call me when it happened?!"

-and maybe she should start running now? Tom looked livid, and they were in fairly close quarters. If he didn't tone it down, she was liable to end up with a busted ear drum.

"Because I knew this would be your reaction, and that you'd call my parents."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't?"

"Because I'm fine. Peter was drunk, and yes he tried to drag me out of the theater, but he didn't actually get that far. The Vulcan Ambassador stopped him, he was arrested, and doctors said I checked out medically. All ended well."

She'd never hear the end of it if he called her parents. Her mother would try to drag her back home, and that was if her father didn't get to it first. She was NOT going back to that house, and certainly not over something as stupid as Peter Hoffer.

"The Vulcan Ambassador, you say?"

She wondered why that was such a surprise. Had the rumors twisted so far from the truth in the last four weeks? She didn't know. She'd ignored any and all references to that disastrous evening.

"Yes. Ambassador Sarek prevented Peter from doing anything, and took me to the hospital to get checked out. He was very kind."

And if he happened to contact her only a few days later to ask for her assistance with understanding certain Terran customs, well, that was none of Tom's business. They'd been meeting fairly regularly, at least once a week, most often at the Embassy. She supposed she was considered some sort of unofficial etiquette coach.

And speak of the devil. Her PADD beeped, signaling an incoming message from Sarek. She waited until Tom was gone before she opened it, not really wanting him standing over her shoulder. She had no idea what the rumors were, but she certainly didn't want to add to them anything connecting her to the Vulcan ambassador. She had enough people (namely competitive grad students) thinking she was sleeping her way to the top. There was no need to drag a diplomat's name through the gossip mill with hers.

The message was simple, stating the need to change their meeting time tonight. That was fine with Amanda, it would give her time to tweak the next chapter of her thesis. She was almost done, thank the good Lord. One more chapter to go and she'd be finished. Done. Writing and researching no more. It was a great feeling. Two more months, and she'd be in front of the review board, and then she'd be graduating. She typed back a response confirming the change in time before turning her attention back to her work. She didn't want to think any more about Peter Hoffer, or Sarek, while she worked on her thesis.

XXXXXXXXXX

Amanda pulled her hover car into the parking lot of the Vulcan Embassy at nine pm on the dot. Lynette Stafford was waiting for her, the look of perpetual disapproval already stamped into her face. The woman seriously needed to get a hobby, or get laid. Amanda thought it would do her a world of good.

"Good evening, Ms. Stafford."

"Miss Grayson. Follow me."

"I know the way; you don't have to escort me every time."

The other woman said nothing, and Amanda had to wonder why she bothered walking her up. Unless—was the woman seriously after Sarek? Amanda had to choke back a laugh at the thought. She'd noticed the flirting on her first visit to the embassy, but she'd expected the woman to have given up by now. Did she really think she had a chance at the Vulcan Ambassador? Oh, good Lord, the woman was just setting herself up for heartbreak if that was the case! Sarek didn't strike her as the type to pursue an affair with a member of the staff, and certainly not a human member of the staff. Really, the woman needed to move on to one of the junior diplomats if she was aiming for a Vulcan.

Then again, she didn't really know too much about the ambassador. They kept their meetings professional (or as professional as possible when it was an unofficial meeting), so she really knew nothing of him personally. He might actually find Lynette Stafford a suitable partner. More fool him, if that was the case.

"Good evening, Miss Grayson," Sarek greeted her at the entrance to his apartment, "That will be all, Miss Stafford."

Apparently he didn't favor the secretary, or whatever she was. The older woman stiffened at the dismissal, tossing a glare at Amanda as he stepped back to allow her entry. Amanda thought she heard the woman muttering something about propriety, but couldn't be sure. Whatever she muttered, Sarek apparently heard, and if the look on his face was anything to go by, he didn't appreciate it.

"Everything alright?"

"All is well, Miss Grayson."

He directed her to their customary place, the table in the sitting room. He was most displeased by Ms. Stafford's remarks. Nothing inappropriate was taking place in his meetings with Ms. Grayson, but if the human staff began gossiping, it could be very damaging to the young woman who was being most helpful. That he would not tolerate.

"How many times have I told you, call me Amanda? You say Ms. Grayson and I start looking around for my mother."

"It is not appropriate to address you so informally, Ms. Grayson."

"It is, when I've invited you to. If a human invites you to address them informally, it could be considered insulting not to do so."

He had not considered that. Vulcans were not comfortable with informality, but it seemed that some humans thrived on it. This was one of those occasions when human input was quite useful.

"Very well, Amanda. I have an upcoming meeting with a member of Starfleet next week, and I believe there are a number of points on which I will require your assistance."

It was late in the night when they finally finished their discussion to Sarek's satisfaction, and Amanda could no longer suppress a yawn. The downside to working with the ambassador, which she'd learned quickly, was that he didn't need nearly the amount of sleep that she did, and was likely to not notice how late it grew as they worked. The fact that it was two o'clock in the morning didn't register as a problem for him. Unfortunately, the yawn didn't go unnoticed by the Vulcan in question.

"I have kept you too late, again. You must inform me when you require rest, Amanda."

He rose from the table and collected the PADD's scattered over the space, returning them to their proper location. He would need to review the material later, but it was not necessary to leave them laying out of place until he was ready for them.

"It's fine, really. I'm just going to head out now, if we're done."

She really didn't mind the late night session. For one thing, it was Friday, so she didn't have to worry about classes the next day or anything. She didn't mind a late night when she knew she could sleep in the next day. For another thing, meeting with Sarek was one of the most interesting things she had going on in her life at the moment. It was sad to say, but she really had almost no social life, and with not even a roommate to push her into going out, she tended to stay in more than was probably considered healthy. Tom and his wife, plus those they'd introduced her to, really made up the extent of her social circle. Meeting with the Vulcan was definitely preferable to sitting home alone.

She WAS exhausted though, and ready to call it a night. Now that they were done with work, the long hours of the day were taking their toll. She'd been up for—she glanced at her watch—twenty hours, and it was hitting her all at once.

"You must stay the night. It is too late for you to attempt to drive your vehicle back to your home, in your state of fatigue."

When Amanda made no answer, Sarek looked back to see that the human woman had fallen asleep sitting at the table. She did not awaken even when he called her name. She was clearly incapable of returning to her home under her own power. Finding it illogical to summon the staff to handle this matter, which would only delay his own sleep, he scooped the young woman up into his arms and carried her into the second bedroom. Pulling back the coverings and placing Amanda on the bed was accomplished in 5.2 seconds, and after a moment's consideration, he also removed her shoes. Satisfied that she was as well situated as he could make her (he would not violate the bounds of propriety by changing her into more comfortable sleep clothes) he closed the door and made his way to his own room.

SA-SA-SA-SA-SA-SA

Amanda woke, momentarily unable to identify her surroundings. This definitely wasn't her apartment, but neither was it what had become "her" room at the Vulcan embassy. So where was she? She remembered working late with Sarek the night before, and—oh snap—did she actually fall asleep on him? Was she in his apartment?

She was still fully clothed, minus her shoes, which she thought might eliminate her going somewhere else. Even if she was simply shown to a guest room, she thought she would have at least changed into pajamas. Had the ambassador brought her in here and put her to bed? She would never live it down if that was the case.

Deciding there was nothing to be gained from staying in bed, and no food to be had to quiet her stomach, she forced herself to her feet, and pulled on her shoes. When she cautiously opened the door, she saw the ambassador's living room, confirming her fear that she was indeed still in Sarek's apartment, though that man was nowhere to be found. A covered tray was sitting on the table, along with a note. Amanda quickly scanned it before seating herself at the table and starting on the food.

She found her purse and car keys sitting on the chair, thankfully. She'd be looking all over for them if the ambassador or one of his minions hadn't left them in plain sight. Wanting to get out before anyone noticed she was still here (hopefully), she grabbed her belongings and slipped out of the apartment. Or, she would have slipped out of the apartment had the door not opened the moment she reached for the handle and collided with her face.

"OW! Son of a-!"

Tears streamed from her eyes as she put a hand up to her nose, which had begun to bleed profusely. She censored her words when she saw a child's head poke into the room. A Vulcan child.

"You are injured."

"No kidding."

It came out muffled, since she was trying to pinch the bridge of her nose to get the bleeding stopped, and her hand was covering her mouth. She couldn't tell whether her nose was actually broken, but sincerely hoped it wasn't. She didn't have another trip to the hospital on her agenda for the weekend.

The boy stepped completely into the apartment, followed by a severe looking Vulcan woman. Her eyes briefly narrowed, almost unnoticeably, when she saw Amanda standing there holding her nose. Amanda doubted she would have seen it if she wasn't used to minute facial expressions from the Vulcans in the embassy, and she wondered what she'd done to make this woman already unhappy with her.

"What is your purpose in this residence?"

Amanda stared at her in disbelief. Her nose was bleeding, Niagara Falls and the woman wanted to question her on why she was here? Seriously? Could she not see that there was a higher priority here?

"The Terran is injured," the boy informed the woman, and Amanda fought the urge to smile. Stating the obvious was apparently a Vulcan thing, not simply a Sarek thing.

Although now that she had a better look at the boy, since her eyes weren't filled with tears, he did look a great deal like the ambassador. His son, maybe? Would that make this woman the child's mother, and Sarek's wife? If so, it would explain her demeanor: Amanda wouldn't take too kindly to finding a strange woman in her husband's apartment either.

"You are in need of medical assistance."

The Vulcan woman made her way into the room to the communication unit. Amanda didn't even bother to protest. She had the feeling that her nose really did need to be seen to; basic First Aid wasn't cutting it. Maybe she'd get lucky, and the Vulcans could fix her without having to go to the ER.

"What is your name, Terran?"

Amanda started. She hadn't even noticed that the boy had come to stand almost in front of her as the woman made her call. He couldn't have been more than five or six, she thought. He sure was a cute little thing.

"Amanda. What's yours?"

"I am Sybok. Why were you in my father's rooms?"

"I was working quite late last night with the ambassador, and he allowed me to stay in the spare room."

"That is logical."

The answer seemed to satisfy young Sybok, but the woman looked less than accepting. Amanda wasn't sure whether to be insulted at the implication she was lying, or feel sorry for the ambassador, if he had a wife who didn't trust him. That consideration took a back seat as the healers arrived, and their focus became her nose. She was directed to take a seat in a chair as two Vulcans stared at her, and their hands began probing none too gently. She hoped that these Vulcans had some experience treating humans. Then again, when it came to noses, maybe Vulcans and humans weren't all that different.

"The cartilage is broken, Miss Grayson," one of them finally said to her after a discussion with his colleague in Vulcan. "And a blood vessel has ruptured. If you will allow, we can repair this injury in our infirmary."

"I'll allow."

Anything to keep from having to go to the ER, and deal with the doctors there. Apart from the fact that she really just hated going to the hospital, if she showed up in the company of Vulcans, with this type of injury…..it would be the job of the staff to question her about her domestic situation, and her work environment, and she could only imagine the rumors that might fly after that. Really, it wouldn't look good at all.

Sybok followed their progress to the infirmary, ignoring the woman's commands that he stay with her. Amanda could see the fascination plainly on the little boy's face as he watched the healers begin their work. Maybe the boy had the makings of a doctor himself. She wondered why she'd never seen him around the embassy before. Surely she would have noticed the presence of a child in the ambassador's apartment? For that matter, Sarek had never mentioned that he had a family. She hadn't seen any holo pics of the boy, or his mother, anywhere in the apartment.

"The most logical treatment for the ruptured blood vessel will be to cauterize it closed. Do you wish to be unconscious, Miss Grayson, or will a local anesthetic suffice?"

"Give me a local, please."

She knew from personal experience that it took her forever to come back from full anesthesia. The tonsillectomy when she was seven and the appendectomy when she was sixteen were testament to that. A drug that normally kept people out for four hours could keep her out for eight or ten, and she had too much to do to sleep the day away. Her world became a much better place after she was questioned about any medicinal allergies, and then injected with something that made all the pain go away.

The healer laid the biobed back, angling Amanda to allow better access to her face, and Amanda drew in a deep breath. She might not want to be knocked out, but she wasn't exactly looking forward to a Vulcan basically shoving a miniature hot poker up her nose, either.

"Do not move, Miss Grayson."

She bit back the sarcastic "no shit" that was dying to spew out of her mouth, and instead focused on not moving as the hot instrument moved up her nasal cavity. The smell of burning flesh assaulted her, but she kept her head straight. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sybok cringe in sympathy.

Amanda was at least sitting upright while the healer ran the regenerator over her nose when Sarek walked in. He took in the sight of the human's bloodstained shirt, the healer attending to her face, and his son sitting beside her in a fraction of a second. The moment he ended his meeting with the Andorian ambassador, he'd been assailed with messages that Amanda was injured and required treatment, and that T'Lia had arrived with his son. His first stop had been his apartment, where T'Lia waited, most displeased to have discovered Amanda occupying his rooms, but Sybok was nowhere to be found. His son had accompanied the human to the infirmary.

"How were you injured, Amanda?"

He'd been unaccountably concerned when informed that she was hurt. It was illogical to be so worried over what he'd been informed was only a minor incident, but he could not deny that he the idea of the young human woman being hurt displeased him greatly. He must see for himself that she was mending.

"It was my fault, father."

He looked to his son, who was looking to the ground. The boy would not meet his eyes.

"It was an accident. They were coming in as I was leaving, and my face collided with the door. No harm, no foul dude."

"We are finished, Miss Grayson. You should remain at the embassy until the anesthetic wears off. You are in no condition to operate a vehicle at this time."

Sarek was surprised when she made no disagreement. She was ordinarily quite vocal about her ability to do things she was advised not to do. Either she was at last willing to accept her limitations, or she was more affected by the anesthetic they had applied than she appeared to be. The latter was the more likely scenario.

"Okey-Dokey."

Was she speaking Standard?

"I am unfamiliar with the term 'okey-dokey'."

She giggled at him. Yes, he was certain that was what Terrans referred to as a giggle. She found his statement humorous.

"Did you really just say that?"

He had noticed similar behavior from humans who became intoxicated. A curious side effect of the medication she'd been given, no doubt. The healers were right to order her to remain until it was out of her system. She would be a danger to herself and others if she attempted to pilot her hover car in her current condition.

The question now was what to do with her? She appeared unlikely to rest until the effects wore off, and he was unwilling to allow her to roam the embassy unsupervised with this new behavior. He could assign a member of the staff to watch over her. It was the most logical option, after all, but he found himself rejecting it.

"Father?"

He returned his attention to his son. Sybok's arrival was unexpected. T'Lia had not informed him of her plans to bring the child, but it would seem that he was to have the boy until his next school term began, which was more than two standard months away.

"Might we tour the gardens? I had no opportunity to inspect them when we arrived."

"Sounds like a plan, kiddo!"

He ignored Amanda's outburst for the moment. He had no further engagements for the day, as it was what the humans called "the weekend". For some reason those two days were considered almost sacred on Earth, and they were most unwilling to continue work on those days. Perhaps Amanda could explain the concept once she was no longer under the influence of an anesthetic.

"We may do so, if you wish."

"Might Amanda join us?"

Sybok asked the question quietly, as if it embarrassed him to ask. Sarek was inclined to ignore the breach of emotional control, as his son had just presented him with the solution to Amanda's supervision. If she was with him and Sybok, she would be properly supervised, and unable to disrupt those working inside.

"That is acceptable, if Miss Grayson wishes to join us."

He must be careful not to address Amanda so familiarly in front of his son. It would not be proper for his son to address her so informally.

"I'd love to, Sybok. Thank you for thinking of me."

Sarek noted the tips of his son's ears flush green at the attention. He would have some things to discuss with T'Lia before she returned to Vulcan.


	5. Chapter 4

"Please tell me you're kidding," Amanda very nearly screeched at the video screen. On the screen, Marianne Carter winced.

"Why would I joke about this?"

"Why would you even do this?!"

This was the last thing Amanda had expected to hear when the senator's wife commed her this afternoon. She'd been planning on spending the rest of the day just relaxing, basking in the fact that her thesis was not only done and turned in, but successfully defended. She officially held her Master's degree. She had definitely not planned on being told that she had only an hour to get ready for a blind date.

"Because Andrew and I both have commitments we can't get out of tonight, and I can't just leave Noah on his own his first night in town. I already checked with Tom and he told me you're not busy tonight, so what's so wrong with showing Noah around town and keeping him company? You're getting a free meal out of it."

The older woman had the nerve to smile at her, and Amanda had to resist the urge to throw the terminal against the wall.

"What makes Tom the authority on my personal schedule?"

"It won't kill you to go on a date, Amanda. And after tonight, you never have to see him again if you don't want to. People are beginning to talk about how much time you spend alone."

"Let them talk! If they can't understand how busy I am with school they're idiots!"

"You're done with school now, Amanda. And you're about to have the entire summer off. You should do something with it besides staying holed up in your apartment. Now, I've given Noah your address, so he'll pick you up. Be ready when he gets there. Bye now."

The older woman ended the call before Amanda could say anything more, and this time she gave in to the urge to throw something, chucking a sock at the terminal. How in the name of all that was holy did she end up having to babysit Andrew Carter's nephew? Did they really not have anyone else they could call?

"Damn!"

Resigned to the fact that this complete stranger was showing up on her doorstep in less than an hour, Amanda grabbed a clean bra and hipsters before heading into the bathroom. She might be doing this under duress, but she would be damned if she looked like some kind of bum while doing it. Looking hot required a shower, and washing her hair.

Thirty minutes later she cursed as her comm terminal beeped at her, signaling an incoming call. She was in the middle of trying to get her hair under control; she didn't need the interruption. Well, whoever it was would just have to deal with her curling her hair while she talked to them. Oh shit, it was Sarek. Just what she needed, for the Vulcan Ambassador (her well-paying boss) to see her like this.

"Good afternoon Ambassador."

"Miss Grayson. Is this an inconvenient time?"

"Unfortunately, it really is, so I can't talk long. What can I do for you?"

"Sybok wished me to invite you to join our evening meal, as we will then tour the Starfleet Academy grounds. If you are agreeable, your presence would be a welcomed addition to the party."

Amanda very much doubted her presence would be welcomed by T'Lia. She had no idea what that woman's issue was, but the Vulcan had apparently taken an almost instant dislike to her, and no matter how civil she was, that hadn't changed (and she'd come back to the Vulcan Embassy a week ago, so Amanda had the joy of experiencing her disapproval all over again). She again cursed the fact that she was stuck on this date; she would have liked to join them for the evening. She really liked the little guy.

"I'd love to, but I'm already committed for the evening. Maybe next time."

"You have a previous engagement?"

"More like an unfortunate group of people who feel free to commit me to things at their whim, but sure, previous engagement works."

It was a testament to just how much her curling iron was beginning to infuriate her that she actually said that out loud, when she meant to keep that thought to herself. She didn't even realize she'd said it until she noticed how puzzled Sarek looked.

"I do not understand."

She sighed, and then cursed as she caught the tip of her finger with the curling iron.

"I've been wrangled by Senator Carter's wife into going on a blind date with their nephew so he doesn't have to spend his first night in San Francisco on his own. He'll be here shortly to pick me up."

"What is this 'blind date'? I have not heard this term before."

"It's an arranged social outing for two strangers, usually in the hope they'll form a romantic attachment. In this case it just means I've never met this guy before but I have to entertain him tonight for Marianne and Andrew. At least that better be all they're thinking."

She muttered the last part to herself, not paying attention to Sarek's expression on the screen as she wrapped another section of hair into her curling iron and sprayed it. Occupied as she was, she didn't see Sarek's face set into an expression of intense displeasure, or notice that he'd bared his teeth. She was too concerned with finishing up before Noah Carter showed up on her doorstep and making sure she didn't burn herself.

"You will join us tomorrow, then. I have not yet taken Sybok to the zoo, which he has asked to see. He would welcome your company."

"Sure," she answered absently as she released the lock of hair she'd just curled, "sounds like fun. Meet you at the embassy at nine then?"

"That is acceptable. Good evening, Miss Grayson."

"Later, Sarek."

She did a double take as she heard the signal cut out. Wait a minute. What the heck just happened? He was almost rude there before he cut off. And did she really just agree to horn in on a father/son trip to the zoo? How did that happen?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sarek was most displeased. As soon as Sybok expressed a desire to have Amanda join them, he had anticipated a pleasant evening in her company. He was to be denied that because her acquaintances wished her to form some romantic attachment with a relation of theirs? It was unacceptable.

It was a moment before he realized the low rumble he felt was actually a growl, coming from him. As soon as he reached this realization he was forced to stop, and examine his reaction. Illogical as it was, he was behaving as though he was receiving a challenge for a potential bondmate.

When had he come to think of Amanda as his? It was true; her assistance was invaluable in dealing with the humans he must work with. Her company was enjoyable. She was even attractive for a human. But to consider her as a potential bondmate was impossible. She was far too young, even by human standards, for such a commitment. She had no understanding of Vulcan politics, a necessity for the wife of an ambassador. The odds of her being accepted by his clan were too low to be measured. Even if she should be accepted, she would likely not survive Pon Farr.

"Father? Is Miss Grayson joining us?"

He had not heard Sybok enter the room.

"Miss Grayson is unable to join us this evening, Sybok. A previous engagement prevents her being here. She will join us tomorrow."

The boy looked as if he was considering the information before he nodded his head.

"That is acceptable. The human woman, Miss Stafford, has expressed an interest in visiting the Academy with us."

"Do you wish for her to come?"

If his son expressed a wish for Lynette Stafford's company, Sarek would be surprised. Amanda was, so far, the only human he'd shown any desire to spend time with. Perhaps it was fortunate that Amanda was unable to join them this evening. It would not be appropriate for Sybok to form too strong an attachment to her.

"No. She is a most intrusive human."

"I trust you have not made this observation aloud in her presence."

"Of course not, Father. But it is true."

Sarek couldn't disagree. Ever since Sybok's arrival, Lynette Stafford had taken to attempting to include herself in their company more and more frequently. The only time Sarek was guaranteed safe from her presence was when he was in a private meeting or in his private quarters with his son. He had once asked Amanda about this behavior, and she had simply laughed at him. He still did not understand what she meant when she said that Miss Stafford was going after the biggest fish in the pond, by any means available.

He dismissed all thoughts of Lynette Stafford and Amanda Grayson from his mind, turning his attention back to the work still on his desk. There was much he intended to accomplish before the evening meal. He had a report to complete that must be sent to T'Pau as soon as possible, and a meeting with a group of students from the VSA currently on-planet for a brief period of study at some Terran institution.

SA-SA-SA-SA

Amanda smoothed her hair one last time before climbing out of her hover car. She didn't know why the thought of spending the day with Sarek and Sybok was making her nervous, but it was. She blamed it on the lack of sleep the night before. Noah had been a surprisingly pleasant dinner companion, and beyond entertaining. He'd even taken Marianne's unsubtle matchmaking with a sense of humor.

It was hard to believe he was related to Andrew and Marianne. The downside to that was the fact that she didn't get in and get to bed until 2 am, and even then she had trouble falling asleep. She'd very nearly slept through her alarm this morning.

For once, she made it to the ambassador's apartment unmolested by Lynette Stafford. Amanda couldn't say that she lamented the woman's absence. She was honestly kind of surprised that woman hadn't done something to get herself fired before now. Then again, maybe it wasn't so surprising. Sarek had seemed oblivious to the fact that Stafford was even hitting on him. He probably wouldn't even notice if she did anything more, unless she slipped into his room to do a fan dance with a lettuce leaf. Amanda made it to Sarek's apartment in record time without the disturbance of Lynette Stafford.

"Good morning Sybok."

The boy opened the door to let her in, and she greeted him with a sunny smile. She was looking forward to the zoo; it had been ages since she'd gone. They were bound to have new animals. She was surprised to see him wearing jeans and a polo shirt; she'd never seen him in anything but Vulcan robes. The human clothes would definitely be better for walking around the zoo.

If Sybok was a surprise, Sarek was an absolute shock. He'd also shed his Vulcan clothes, opting for slacks and a button down shirt. Amanda had to remind herself that drooling in front of the Ambassador would be a very bad idea; the human clothes showed off what the Vulcan clothes concealed so well.

_Get a grip, Grayson!_

"Are you well, Miss Grayson?"

"I'm fine, Sybok. Are you excited to see the zoo?"

_Get their attention off yourself, before Sarek thinks you've lost it!_

"It should prove to be a most satisfactory experience."

Oh. Right, Vulcan's didn't do excited. She would have to try to tone down the enthusiasm while she was with them. She didn't want to embarrass the kid.

"If you are ready, Miss Grayson, we shall depart."

"I'm ready."

Sarek was not blind to the fact that Amanda's pulse sped up when she faced him. For the first time, he wondered whether she found him aesthetically pleasing. Perhaps his attraction was not entirely one-sided. It was something to consider.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Amanda had to remind herself, repeatedly, not to stare at Sarek the entire afternoon. She noticed that she wasn't the only one doing it, either. Father and son were gaining a great deal of attention, and Amanda recognized an appreciative once-over when she saw it.

_Get it together, Grayson! Bad thoughts about your boss!_

_He's not technically my boss! He's a—a colleague. An acquaintance. And I'm not having inappropriate thoughts. _

_An acquaintance that pays you for your time; and you're having inappropriate thoughts!_

_I am not!_

_Who do you think you're kidding?!_

And now she was arguing with herself. Wonderful. She really was losing it. Sarek was looking at her funny; just how much of what she was thinking showed up on her face? Her dad always said she was an open book. She ordered her mind to get away from Sarek and on to the animals they were here to see. It was harder than she expected to turn her attention to the next enclosure.

She was surprised when Sybok ran up to the glass separating them from a creature that, to Amanda, resembled a teddy bear with fangs. What was so fascinating about this particular animal? He hadn't reacted with such enthusiasm to any of the other exhibits. She read the plaque, and it made sense. Sehlat. A Vulcan animal. She wondered when the last time was the child had seen one. Did Vulcans have pets? Would that be considered logical?

She noticed that Sarek was staring intently at the animal that was actually making its way over to them. It reached them, and fixed its gaze solely on Sarek. They seemed to almost be having some sort of silent conversation. Could Vulcans do that? She knew they were touch telepaths, but could they communicate telepathically without a physical connection? She'd learned a lot about Vulcan culture from her sessions with Sarek, but there was so much she still didn't know, and doubted she'd ever learn.

"Sarek?"

When they remained in their silent stare off for over a solid minute, Amanda grew concerned enough not to notice that she'd called him by name, in a public place. He broke the standoff to turn to her.

"Is everything alright?"

"The animal is content here. I am satisfied."

Okay, that was just weird. Just what was he planning to do if he found out the animal was discontented, or maltreated? Could he really have it removed from the zoo? Did ambassadors have that kind of influence? She decided to leave the question alone as they continued on their tour. Not too far was the Arctic exhibit. She wanted to see the Beluga whales, and the polar bears.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was late when they returned to the embassy. They had stayed at the zoo until it closed down for the day, followed by dinner. It was almost comical to watch as Sybok discovered cheese pizza for the first time. Amanda hadn't wanted to push her luck by getting anything with meat on it. From what she'd seen, Vulcan's were pretty strict vegetarians. Strangely enough, the boy declined to sample the chocolate mousse she'd ordered for dessert. Not even Sarek would try it, and he was normally willing to try almost anything. Still, watching Sybok's eyes nearly roll back into his head in ecstasy over pizza was a sight she wouldn't soon forget.

"You are not leaving?" Sybok demanded sleepily as Amanda started to head for her car. She wasn't sure what to answer. The trip was over, so of course she'd planned on heading home, but the boy was looking at her expectantly, as if he had other plans for the course of the evening. Sarek looked perplexed as well.

"Have you ever played Kiloton?"

"Kal-Toh? I can't say that I have. What is it?"

"You must learn. Come."

She had to bite back a smile at that order. There was no other word for it. Amanda looked to Sarek for his opinion on the matter.

"If you wish to learn, Sybok is proficient enough to teach you."

She couldn't say no to the mini-Sarek waiting for her to join them. She took a minute to toss her things in her car before rejoining them, as Sybok waited impatiently. She followed the boy into the embassy, the ambassador walking just behind her the entire walk to his apartment.

A few hours later, Amanda was regretting her decision. She had yet to beat Sybok, or even come close, and her competitive streak was coming out. This was the first time she could remember ever having such difficulty catching on to a game.

"You were much improved that time, Miss Grayson."

A generous lie if ever she heard one. She couldn't see evidence of any improvement. She was still getting her ass handed to her by a six year old. Who cared if he was Vulcan, he was six for crying out loud! It shouldn't be this hard to win just once.

The humiliation continued until they were interrupted by T'Lia, who came to claim Sybok for bed. It was only then that Amanda noticed the time. It was nearly eleven o'clock! She had no idea it was so late.

"I'd better head out too. I didn't know it was getting so late."

"A moment before you leave, Miss Grayson."

She waited, curious, as Sarek escorted Sybok and T'Lia back to the spare that had become Sybok's room while on Earth. Several minutes later, both adults emerged, and T'Lia left with a final non-glare at Amanda. She really wished she knew what the hell she was supposed to have done to make the woman not like her. She didn't even know her.

"Would you care for some refreshment, Amanda?"

"No, thank you. I really do need to head out. What did you need?"

"I wished to discuss something with you, without the presence of Sybok."

"Very well."

Oh Lordy, that couldn't be good. Was she being fired? Had she been too emotional in front of the kid? Too loud? Sarek looked…well, she didn't really know how to describe his countenance. He didn't have that not-angry but completely pissed off look she'd seen him come to perfect, but he didn't look terribly happy either. If it was anyone else, she would say he almost looked nervous.

"Is everything alright?"

"Nothing is wrong, Amanda."

It was the truth, and yet not. Everything was normal in the sense she'd intended with her question, and yet Sarek found himself faced with a difficulty. He had decided during the course of the afternoon that if Amanda was willing, he would pursue her as a potential bondmate. According to Terran custom, this would require what they called dating. He was unfamiliar with this custom, and therefore he did not know how to go about it.

"I have found that I greatly enjoy the time spent with your company. I wish to spend time together outside of a work setting."

Amanda blinked. Did he—was he asking her out on a date? No, it couldn't be. He must be having difficulty with a Terran expression again.

"What are you proposing?"

"I believe that sharing a meal in a social setting is a common practice for individuals wishing to become better acquainted on a personal level, is it not?"

Oh snap, he really was asking her out on a date. Had he noticed her inappropriate staring? But what about Sybok's mother? He was asking her on a date when his baby mama (and she didn't think Vulcans **had** those, but what else could she be, because if she wasn't his ex but was his wife, he was one dead Vulcan) was staying under the same roof? When the woman already hated her?

"Should I judge by your silence that you are not pleased with the suggestion?"

"Should I be pleased that you're asking me out when your ex is here? Is that considered a normal thing on Vulcan? Is it not logical to consider her feelings where you're from?"

And now he looked confused. Really?

"I do not understand your statement."

"You're asking me out on a date when the mother of your son just left us!"

"T'Lia is not Sybok's mother."

"She isn't? But—she—you—then who the hell is she, and why does she hate me? I thought she hated me because she was jealous of my being here."

"She is Sybok's grandmother. Her daughter, T'Ilan, was my bondmate, and Sybok's mother. She did not survive his delivery."

Oh shit. Now she felt bad. Damn. She was ready to ream into the man for asking her out with—and she was dead. Dead in childbirth, to make things even worse.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dredge up painful memories."

"You did not. I accepted T'Ilan's passing long ago. But I am still waiting for an answer."

Oh. She was supposed to answer him. Right. That meant having to jumpstart her brain, and get it working again.

_C'mon Grayson, get it together! Hottie just asked you out! Say yes, damn it!_

"Yes!"

He blinked, and she realized she might have been a little loud. She toned it down before she repeated her answer.

"Yes. I would be agreeable to spending more time with you in a social setting."

_Holy shit. I just agreed to go out with the Vulcan ambassador. This could be bad._


End file.
