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“Ah.”
Amanda looked up from the bread she was soaking in soup. She and Sarek were sitting in her half-packed apartment, eating dinner after a long day spent rushing around. It was late evening and he’d asked her to move in with him since she was planning on moving anyway, refusing to meet her eyes.
She’d looked at his hands instead and seen how hard he was gripping them together, intermittently of course, as if his nerves overtook him for a moment before remembering. If she hadn’t been looking, if she didn’t know him as well as she did, she wouldn’t have noticed.
She’d said yes, smiling at those hands.
“Hm?” Amanda asked, surprised that he’d made a sound.
Sarek didn’t typically make much noise when they ate. She’d known him for close to a year and they’d eaten together plenty of times, the meals conducted in dead silence. She’d grown used to it even though it’d taken some work. She was used to a more rowdy atmosphere - big, happy family and plenty of friends at work, all of which wanted to gossip and laugh behind their hands as they ate.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
Sarek shook his head and continued eating before pausing once again. He swallowed then cleared his throat and Amanda widened her eyes slightly to show she was listening.
“I was attempting to speak with you,” he admitted.
“When you went ‘ah’?” Amanda asked, mimicking his posture.
Sarek tilted his head. “Ah, was the realization. I had been attempting to communicate with you telepathically.”
Amanda blinked then broke out into a grin, realizing. “Ah!”
“Precisely,” Sarek said.
“Do all Vulcans talk telepathically during meals or were you just really eager to tell me something?” she asked.
There was the sound of a door slamming, then loud conversation in the halls that sounded like an argument until Amanda caught translated bits of Klingon: “Her eyes are far more beautiful than her hands - you can see the shine of them, the warmth of rushing blood. What do you see in a hand-?”
Sarek didn’t acknowledge the interruption but remained silent until it had grown distant enough that he didn’t have to raise his voice. “It is customary to speak telepathically during meals, though such conversation is usually conducted within the familial circle. It is a moment of privacy and bonding.”
Amanda nodded, leaning forward. “...What were you going to tell me?”
Sarek hummed, delicately scooping up and inspecting a carrot before setting it back into his soup. “Nothing important.”
“Do you not like carrots?” Amanda asked, momentarily distracted.
“I have never had a carrot. I have no opinion on them.”
“Have you tried carrot cake?” Amanda asked.
Sarek narrowed his eyes and made a noise at the back of his throat.
Amanda grinned and nodded. “Disgusting,” she said with more vitriol than she actually felt.
“Unpleasant.” Sarek agreed, taking a sip of water. “I will tell you what I intended when our meal has concluded.”
Amanda nodded, gesturing with her spoon before remembering herself and placing it firmly back in her bowl. “If you don’t like your carrots, give ‘em to me. I’m not a picky eater.”
“It is one of your many laudable traits.” Sarek said earnestly and Amanda felt warmth spread through her chest that she fought not to vocalize other than letting herself laugh softly at the unexpected compliment.
They ate the rest of their meal in silence and when Sarek was done he set aside his silverware, waiting with his typical poise for Amanda to finish as well. When she did she peered over at his bowl. “Carrots?”
“I did not enjoy them.”
“No problem,” Amanda said, scooping them into her own bowl. Though he’d said he didn’t like them he’d eaten a fair number, probably in an attempt to be polite. She wondered if he’d have eaten them all if she hadn’t given him an out. She smiled. “Next time you should make me an authentic plomeek soup. I hear it blows the replicated version out of the water.”
Sarek blinked. “The replicated versions of all foods are comparable to their ‘authentic’ counterparts but if you are curious I will make you a bowl from the same recipe my foremother created. Replicators are not yet adept at regional variations on well known dishes.”
Amanda nodded eagerly, swallowing. “I’d like that! And when you meet my parents I’ll make sure they feed you matzo ball soup.”
“The Vulcan diet is not entirely composed of soup, Amanda.” Sarek said, deftly clearing away the dishes.
Amanda watched him stand entirely without the use of his hands. In those stiff, floor-length robes he always wore he had a tendency to look as if he were gliding.
“No, but it’s one of your favorites isn’t it? You’ve always got a thermos full.”
“It is cold on Earth.”
“If you want I’ll get you some gloves or a scarf.” Amanda offered.
“I could procure either of those items on my own.” Sarek pointed out, turning.
“Yeah, but it’s always nice to get a gift isn’t it?” Amanda asked rhetorically, following him into the kitchen and adding her dish to the sink with a soft apology (muffled by the spoonful of carrot she’d shoved into her mouth). Her recycling unit had been disabled in light of her recent move so she watched as he did the dishes by hand.
Sarek worked strangely, turning the water off while he scrubbed a dish then on to rinse it off, repeating the cycle several times with each dish. Amanda watched with interest, wondering if he was attempting to conserve water or if he’d just never washed a dish in his life.
“If we were bonded telepathically would we be able to talk while we ate?”
“Yes.” Sarek said. “We would be able to communicate at all times, though it is a different form of communication entirely than vocal speech.”
“Is it like…feelings? Like Betazoids do?”
“It would be considered rude to communicate emotionally with someone who was not a member of one’s family or an extremely close acquaintance. It would be a burden to the other as there is an expectation of assistance. Not to mention it would reflect rather poorly on the individual.” Sarek paused. “It varies for every Vulcan…it would be as if you had many minds, all partially yours.”
“Hm…hard to explain?” Amanda guessed.
“How would you explain vocal speech to an alien who had never experienced language?” Sarek asked, looking around the kitchen.
Amanda considered it, nodding, before perking up. “That reminds me - what were you going to say before?” she asked, finding a dish towel and holding it out to him.
“Nothing important. I did not recognize the carrots and was attempting to ask you what they were.” Sarek said, taking the towel and using it to dry his hands.
“That’s adorable.” Amanda blurted out.
Sarek narrowed his eyes. “...My ignorance?”
“Yeah, your ignorance.” Amanda said, laughing. “No! You not knowing what a carrot was.”
“I did know I simply did not recognize the vegetable in that particular form.” Sarek defended, looking over at Amanda who was looking at him, a gentleness to her expression.
He had seen her look at many things that way, turning insignificant parts of the scenery into areas of intense interest. He did not know why he sometimes received that look. He didn’t dislike it. He raised an eyebrow.
“I want to be bonded with you.” Amanda said softly, her expression shifting slightly so as to be completely unreadable to Sarek. He was not adept at interpreting more complicated facial emoting. The woman across from him was happy mixed with other things. His fingers twitched.
It could be faintly disconcerting at times to be with someone intimately without knowing them in the way he’d always known those within his circle. So too was it vaguely daunting to know that if he did desire to truly know her, to bond himself to her, he would have to be prepared for her enormity - for her Human emotionality to fight at every turn to overwhelm his Vulcan logic. He would have to trust himself and his abilities entirely. It could lead to the death of him. He could be engulfed and ultimately destroyed.
Amanda’s expression remained inscrutable, alien.
Sarek took a breath, considering.
“...So that we could talk during meals? I am not adverse to taking conversational breaks while eating if it is only you and I in attendance.”
“Not just that! So we could talk all the time. So we could know each other.” Amanda wrapped her hand around his wrist, squeezing slightly. She could feel a bump of bone there and briefly wondered how much he was eating. Maybe she should make him add something heartier to his soups like rice or noodles. Did he like rice or noodles?
She shook her head. “I know this isn’t how you’re used to doing things. Dating, waiting, being unbonded. We’re moving super slow for you and super fast for me.”
“I do not mind waiting.”
“And I don’t mind a bit of speed,” Amanda said enthusiastically. “I want to blend our cultures, I want to show everyone how connected we can be. You and me baby, we can show them all.”
Sarek looked at her, mouth set.
Amanda smiled at him.
For several long moments they were both silent.
Sarek broke first. “Baby-”
“Yes?” Amanda interrupted before he could finish his thought, bursting into laughter.
Sarek didn’t know when Amanda had seemingly decided to end their serious discussion and begin a more convivial one but he let it go. It was impossible to keep up with or fully understand human mood swings, he simply had to take them as they came.
“I will not bond with you until we are married. Are you proposing to me?” Sarek asked, making Amanda’s eyes widen and cutting her laughter short. He collected the dishes and placed them on the counter, all equally distant from one another, the silverware in a perfect little row. “I was under the assumption that human marriage rituals in this region necessitated a ring.”
“Not all of them…” Amanda said, reeling. She was watching Sarek making a stupid little perfect row of dishware and falling deeper in love with him because of it. It was incredible how his little quirks made her feel so much for him. She hadn’t been the sort who found herself deeply interested in other people. She liked people, she really did but she wasn’t the type to notice little things, that was more Sarek’s role.
She’d stop to admire a field of flowers for their swath of color and Sarek would bend down, lifting his robes slightly and peering at a single one, focusing all of his attention on it. Then she’d say “I wish I was that flower” and he’d say “I would advise you find peace with the form you already take. If it helps I certainly find it pleasant.”
“Hey Sarek, look at me.”
Sarek turned and obeyed, staring into her eyes. Amanda looked back, feeling as if her entire body - no something deeper than that, was filling up with warmth.
Sarek had such a cold, nothing look. It was strange, looking into someone’s eyes and knowing right away, instinctually this is not a human being. Sarek’s eyes were dark and still. There was almost a weight to them…they didn’t dance or sparkle or strive to communicate anything, any thoughts he had were firmly held back from ever reaching any part of his expression.
“It’s creepy,” her brother had told her after meeting him by chance and asking for a picture to get a better look. “I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s so weird looking into someone’s eyes and feeling…almost like that feeling you get when someone cups your ears or you’re underwater. Freaky shit.”
Sarek began to tilt his head and Amanda mimicked him without smiling. The two of them held eye contact and continued to move as a unit until both their heads couldn’t turn any further. Then Sarek spoke. “I would like to meet your parents.”
“Really?” Amanda asked, holding her hands out and flexing her fingers until he took them. She traced a vein with her thumb. “Can I meet yours?”
“My father is deceased and my mother has long achieved Kolinahr mastery and devoted her life to temple work. Meeting with you or I would not be proper.”
Amanda hummed in thought, then leaned forward and rested her head on Sarek’s shoulder, closing her eyes. “Yeah, you can meet my parents.”
“Excellent.” Sarek said, staying very still, maybe so he didn’t disturb Amanda.
“Are you gonna talk to them about marriage?”
“Yes.”
Amanda laughed. “My dad’s gonna kill you.”
“If that is his wish he will not be able to fulfill it.” Sarek said, turning his head slightly away from Amanda. She could feel his voice reverberating through his body. “Shall we go?”
Amanda wrapped her arms around him. “Go where?”
Sarek didn’t answer, merely lifting her up and carrying her wordlessly to the bathroom where he set her down on the counter. “Conduct your ablutions,” he said, then left towards the bedroom.
Amanda laughed, calling out after him. “Are you saying I stink?”
“No.” Sarek replied, closing the bedroom door. What precisely he was denying remained up to interpretation.
Amanda shook her head and began to brush her teeth, buzzing with joy. Clever diplomatic tricks…
Later, when they were in bed, Amanda listened to Sarek’s breathing. He was facing away from her, his body slightly curled. It was how he always slept and she hadn’t expected it the first time they’d slept together - she didn’t know what she’d expected…some sort of mummy or corpse-like position maybe.
She placed her hand on his back. He made a noise, shifting.
“Do you ever miss your mother?” Amanda asked, knowing he was awake from the reaction.
Sarek paused before speaking, his voice low and heavy with fatigue. “When our bond was broken it was a mutual decision. A ceremony was conducted and afterward I underwent a brief period of bedrest and vigorous meditation. However, I was accompanied and assisted by several close relatives and was able to quickly alleviate any lingering pain and achieve a new equilibrium, accounting for the absence. Now I take solace in the fact that she is living a fulfilling life in the temple.”
Amanda was quiet for a moment, absorbing the information. “You don’t resent her for leaving you?”
“If I resented my mother I would eventually resent the sun for setting. Things come and go. The only element in the universe one can control is oneself.” Sarek paused, then added something more. “At times I do wish for her guidance and for her presence within my mind but there is no emotional connection and the sensation passes quickly.”
Amanda again felt warm. She couldn’t imagine Sarek admitting that to anyone else. She’d learned quite a bit about Vulcans, the one beside her in particular, and she knew that they dealt with personal information very seriously. Things like age, favorite food, parents, childhood stories - they were all carefully guarded and sparingly doled out in conversation. Whenever she learned something truly personal about Sarek she couldn’t help but feel as if she’d won something.
“How can you want a presence without any emotional connection?” she asked, genuinely curious.
Sarek paused, thinking. “...Certain individuals who suffer from anxiety utilize pressure to keep them grounded. A presence within a mind is a type of pressure, one might say.”
“I see…” Amanda said, nodding and shifting so she was pressed against Sarek’s back. “One more question, then you can sleep.”
“I did not realize sleep was forbidden.”
“Well you’re lucky you didn’t have to find that out the hard way,” she said, smiling. “How’d you get all your hair? I’ve never seen someone with such a luxurious chest coiffure.”
“Good night.”
“No, no goodnight!” Amanda said, laughing as she wrapped her arms more fully around the Vulcan. “Answer the question!”
“The parameters were not clearly established. You specified ‘one more question’ not that I had to answer it. Good night.”
“You’re the absolute worst,” Amanda giggled, pressing her face against his back. “I hate you.”
“You are touching me, that is a lie.”
Amanda paused to puzzle out the sentiment before remembering his telepathy. Then she sighed and smiled, letting herself become drowsy as she listened to the sounds of the city at night, muffled by her window. She wondered if the place Sarek lived was noisy and if his windows eliminated the sound completely. She thought, very pointedly, about Sarek and love.
“When I propose to you, I’ll have a ring.” she said softly, just before drifting off. “Any preferences?”
“Yes,” Sarek replied, the words nearly drowned out by sleep. “I will detail them to you at a later date.”