Chapter Text
It is not paranoia if someone really is out to get you, Amanda reminded herself.
The house was silent, the children's rooms empty. Their beds were made, even Sol's. She padded out into the living room, still barefoot and wearing only her nightshift, half hoping to find them hiding behind furniture. Sarek had already reached the front door and held up a hand to stop her from coming forward any further. He opened the door and stepped out. “I thought I heard something moving outside."
She nodded. Her hands were knotting the fabric of her robe. She smoothed it deliberately.
“There is a note.”
Amanda could no longer stop herself from running to him. She clutched at Sarek’s arm and looked over his shoulder at the note. The first peculiarity was that it was written in Standard, which she would not have expected of logic extremists. The second took her a moment to be certain of. “That’s Solomon’s handwriting,” she remarked to Sarek.
“So it is.”
Ambassador Sarek and Lady Amanda Grayson,
Your children are safe. If you follow our instructions precisely they will return to you tomorrow. Your first assignment is to be at the Embassy Cultural Center at the second hour after daylight. Dress appropriately You will be given further instructions when you arrive.
The Trickster
“Sarek,” Amanda said, a tickle of suspicion forming in her mind.
“Yes?” His brow was still furrowed just enough that she could see it, and she could feel his tension through their bond.
“I’m not saying we shouldn’t inform the Embassy, but it seems extremely unlikely that the children could have been spirited out from under our noses without them waking us, especially Solomon.”
“Are you suggesting they might have been induced to leave under their own power?”
“I’m suggesting that for Sol, Michael, and Spock to leave this house this early in the morning without alerting us would have required their cooperation.”
“If not conspiracy,” Sarek replied, catching her meaning at last.
She allowed herself a slight smile. “This is the first day in almost two months that you haven’t been fully occupied with travel or embassy business. This entire thing smells of Malkie and Birdie.”
“As I said, conspiracy.”
She let out a relieved sigh. “Well, if we’re to be at the Embassy Cultural Center in an hour we should be getting ready. I wonder what I ought to wear?”
“Given that there remains a four-point two percent chance the children have been kidnapped, I would suggest something elegant, but practical, in case we must move quickly. I believe that the majority of your attire qualifies.”
“Oh, Sarek,” she laughed, taking a moment, since they were in private and it irked him so much, to swat him on the behind for good measure.
He elected not to acknowledge her impropriety but instead made for the bedroom. She skirted around him to duck into the shower ahead of him, turned on the sonic, and set aside her hastily donned gown. Sonics were not as satisfying as water showers, no matter what Sarek said. The low hum of the sonic sufficed to settle her thoughts. Four and some other bits percent. She poked her head out of the bathroom. “You up to doing a quick safety check on the boys?”
“I have done so already. Sol is actively blocking me. Spock is in no distress I can detect. I believe the possibility that the children are in any unusual danger is negligible at this time.”
Unusual danger. There were, of course, all the usual dangers that eleven, nine, and five-year-old children could get into, especially their particular children. She allowed her husband an eye full of her naked form on the way to the wardrobe. to collect something appropriately elegant and practical.
"My wife, if you intend for us to reach our destination in a timely manner, perhaps you should not put yourself on such tantalizing display."
"Perhaps I'd like you to think about me all day long," she teased. He gave her the eyebrow and retreated to the shower himself.
Once dressed, she called up Embassy security. "I need to report an unusual occurrence at my home," she told the young security officer who appeared on the phone.
"Oh?" Ryn Grissom said, looking far too innocently curious.
"My children have gone missing. There's a note," she held it up for him to scan, which he did, dutifully but without the sense of urgency she would have expected. An accomplice, then. Curious.
"I'd suggest you follow the author's demands precisely," Grissom said, the corners of his lips tightening as he failed to contain his amusement.
Amanda smiled back sweetly. "Oh, we will, you can be sure of it. In the meantime, perhaps you might avail yourself of the opportunity to meditate. Your emotions are written all over your face."
The screen went unceremoniously blank. Well, that was one question answered, she thought wryly. She finished putting up her hair and took a book into the sitting room to wait for Sarek to put himself together.
When he finally appeared, immaculate in russet and cream robes, she told him how Grissom had taken the news. "So the Embassy staff are enabling the children's machinations now?"
"Since when have they not?"
*
Michael Burnham peered out from the stand of trees just outside Sarek and Amanda's home, watching for her adoptive parents with her older brother by her side and her stray prone baby brother held in front of her. She saw the main house lights shut off as an aircar pulled up to the front door. Under her vise grip, Spock bounced with silent excitement.
As soon as the car was out of sight, Sol burst into loud laughter beside her. Michael rolled her eyes at the display. "Are Malkie's parents coming for us soon?" she asked Sol pointedly.
"Yes, I sent them a message a minute ago. Quit being such a worrier."
"I am not worrying," Michael whispered back archly. "I would just rather not be consumed by a legally protected carnivore."
"I-Chaya's keeping watch," Sol said. "We're perfectly safe."
Malkie's mom drove up in an aircar and set down in front of the house. Michael chose to walk with some dignity to the vehicle. Spock broke free of her hold and ran to catch up with Sol. Somebody needed to put that kid on a leash. She climbed in after her siblings. "I am not watching Spock and Lala the whole time we're at the fair. You two have to take a turn."
"I'm always watching Spock," Sol countered.
"Knowing where he is and watching him are not the same thing, Solomon Grayson," Michael insisted.
Spock hunched lower in the seat beside Michael. "I do not require watching. I am not an infant."
"Uh huh, name all the foods you can't eat," Michael challenged.
Spock responded with a full, complete, and correct list. Michael sighed. "All right, what would you do if somebody tried to kidnap you?"
"Nerve pinch them."
"You can't do a nerve pinch yet," Sol said.
"Then I will bite them."
"Fair enough," Malkie agreed.
Birdie cleared her throat ominously. "There will be no biting, no pinching--even of the regular kind, Malkiah--and no getting kidnapped. We are having a lovely day out, just the six of us."
"And spying on our parents," Sol added with relish.
"And spying on your parents. We will go to the embassy to decorate, then have lunch at the street fair in the alien quarter."
"I want to do the labyrinth!" Lala shouted.
Beside Michael, Spock flinched. "Inside voice," Michael said quietly, but firmly.
"Sorry," Lala mumbled. She remained silent for a fraction of a second Michael felt a twinge of shame that she couldn't calculate exactly, then yelled, "I made flowers out of--"
Michael glared death at her.
"I made flowers out of tissue paper," she said in a more sedate tone.
"I made pictures of dinosaurs and desert crawlers," Spock said in his soft voice.
"Well, that's romantic," Malkie said, rolling her eyes.
Birdie sighed. "Malkiah, don't pick on him, he's going to be your brother in law someday. I'm sure Sarek and Amanda will be delighted with your efforts, Spock."
"Father does not experience delight," Michael corrected archly.
Sol sputtered. "Father experiences a lot of things he won't admit to, Michael. Don't let him fool you."
"Father demonstrates impeccable control which you would do well to emulate, Solomon."
Solomon snorted, "What's the point? I'm leaving for Earth in two months and I am never coming back."
"Never?" Spock mumbled, stiffening beside Michael.
"You can come visit Malkie and me in New York."
Spock hunched inside his robes. Michael whispered, "I'm not going anywhere."
He tilted beside her, just slightly into her side so that his shoulder rested against her arm. She let herself smile just a little.