Hiya!

If you follow the progress of my Grace story, I AM SO SORRY I JUST HAD TO WRITE THIS.

If you don't, then hi! I have always been intrigued by Amanda and Sarek. I mean, the first Human/Vulcan marriage ever! Like whaaaaat?!

So yeah, I hope ya'll like it :)

It'll start out pretty slow, and Amanda's not even in this chapter (well, she's mentioned...). But I have a totally hilarious way of introducing her in the next chapter so :D

Yeah, this is totally not completely canon so sorry.


"Ambassador Sarek, welcome!"

Sarek turned to the voice. An older man (rapidly graying hair, about 55 Standard years of age) strode toward him, raising a hand in greeting, a large smile on his face. Sarek inclined his head and raised his hand in the ta'al.

"I come to serve."

The man fumbled with his hands for a brief minute before returning the gesture sloppily, his fingers shaking with the effort. "Your service honors us," he smiled, dropping his hand. Sarek folded his hands into the opposing sleeves of his robe.

Sarek inclined his head. "I have not made your acquaintance."

The man's eyes widened. "Oh, I'm sorry! I am Ambassador Jeremy Grayson." He stuck out his hand for the Terran handshake, but retracted it hastily before Sarek had the chance to properly weigh the handshake against a diplomatic incident. "I'm sorry, again. I forget Vulcans don't like touch. It's such an integral part of Earth culture, you know?"

The Ambassador started walking quickly, gesturing for Sarek to follow. "Indeed," Sarek allowed, wondering if most Humans were this enthusiastic. The late Ambassador Antonio Boccelli was certainly not. Although, that could be attributed to his superior age.

"We would typically do a handshake, or a pat on the back, or the shoulder, or - you know - hug," the Ambassador continued rambling nervously as they walked - rather quickly, for a Human.

Sarek raised both eyebrows. "You are accustomed to embracing diplomats?" He shifted 6 inches to the right of the Ambassador in preparation for such an assault.

"What? No, of course not!" The Ambassador turned his head towards Sarek as he continued walking - illogical, as he could not look for objects in his path while simultaneously gazing at Sarek - his eyes widening. He halted his course, and Sarek was forced to turn his neck uncomfortably over his shoulder. "Are - are you? We could if - if that's what you want..."

Sarek leveled his gaze, turning to the Ambassador fully. "I assure you that I do not require an embrace at this time." A look of relief crossed the Ambassador's face, and he gestured for them to continue walking.

A smiling woman in a Starfleet uniform approached the two, raising her hand in an effortless ta'al. The Ambassador chuckled fondly. "I've been practicing that for a week, and you saw my pitiful excuse for the salute. She got that on her second try." The woman reached them, turning her bright smile fully to Sarek.

"Ambassador Sarek," she greeted. He returned the ta'al with a dip of his head.

"Ambassador, this is my wife, Dora," the Ambassador introduced.

"Lady Grayson," he greeted. She did not try to initiate physical contact, for which he was grateful. She laughed, quiet and twinkling.

"I'm no 'Lady,' honey; call me Dora," she smiled up at him, warm and open. He suppressed the urge to shift uncomfortably.

"I have no wish to insult you or your culture, but I will refrain from dismissing proper titles," he informed her stiffly. She tilted her head, and her smile slowly faded until it merely flickered in the corners of her mouth.

"Of course, dear. If you wish. I will, however, request that you use 'Dora,' rather than 'Grayson' in whichever titles you chose to give me," she smiled, faintly this time.

Sarek blinked at her, and the Ambassador gestured them forward, his left hand on his wife's waist, and his right skirting around Sarek awkwardly. They approached a hovercar, and the Ambassador talked rapidly to his wife about 'the office.'

"Are you hungry, Ambassador?" Sarek looked up. "Thirsty? Tired? Bored?" Ambassador Grayson questioned in his usual fast pace. Lady Dora laughed again, just as quietly, before striking her husband in the arm lightly.

Sarek raised an eyebrow at the exchange before turning back to Ambassador Grayson. "I do not require sustenance or rest at this time."

The Ambassador grinned triumphantly. "So you are bored then?"

Lady Dora struck her husband once more, instructing him to "shush" and to "leave the poor man alone!" Sarek tilted his head once more.

"What is 'bored?'" The Humans tilted their heads and frowned at him, before laughing.

"I didn't know Vulcans could joke!" Lady Dora exclaimed, beaming at him.

Sarek lowered his eyebrows marginally. "I assure you, Lady Dora, Vulcans do not joke. My inquiry was made in earnest."

The Humans smiled at each other. "Oh, here we are!" the Ambassador exclaimed, exiting the hovercar hastily (which Sarek attributed to his natural energy level). Sarek waited for Lady Dora to exit before he did, a form of a revered Human characteristic called 'chivalry,' which he had learned in his Terran culture assimilation courses, surprised that her husband did not do the same. By the time Sarek exited the hovercar, however, Ambassador Grayson was already carrying a pile of Sarek's luggage up a series of steps to a large housing unit.

" - really hope you do not mind staying with us," the Ambassador was saying. Lady Dora pulled more of Sarek's luggage from a rear compartment of the hovercar - mainly gifts for the First Ever Intergalactic Diplomatic Federation Conference - and smiled at both Sarek and the driver of the hovercar (a stiff man in a red Starfleet uniform standing at attention and not looking at Sarek).

"Come along, dear," she called, disappearing into the housing unit. Sarek hesitated for a brief millisecond before following them.

Inside, the Graysons seemed to have disappeared - though that would be illogical, and he could hear them talking animatedly in another room - and he stood waiting in what seemed to be the entrance hall. An open closet bursting with coats and jackets of all shapes and sizes was 2.6 Terran yards from him along the left wall. Shoes, it seemed, belonged against the right wall, if the large pile was any indication. It looked as if someone had attempted to organize them, but the owners of the shoes seemed to disregard organization.

Being a guest in the house, Sarek stood in the exact center of the rug placed just inside the door and waited for further instructions. The instructions came 1.9 Terran minutes later in the form of Lady's Dora's shouts.

"Ambassador, dear, don't just stand there all day! Come on in!" Sarek placed his sandals neatly 1.2 feet from the pile of shoes and stepped out of the hall. It opened into a wide, spacious living area, populated with an abundance of seating options, and Sarek wondered if the Graysons shared a living unit with another family, but dismissed the thought immediately. Ambassadors would be wealthy enough to afford their own.

Sarek pulled himself out of his musings and looked around further. Holographs covered every wall and every ledge, featuring a variety of people of all different ages. He identified both Lady Dora and Ambassador Grayson in 13 of the 32 holographs, collectively.

He heard light footsteps behind him, and Lady Dora appeared at his side. She pointed to the holograph in the center of the mantle of the (redundant) fireplace, a soft smile brushing over her lips. "This one's my favorite."

In the holograph, the Ambassador and his wife were in a kitchen with four children, all of whom shared similar physical characteristics as the Graysons. Sarek concluded that they were the Ambassador's children. None of them were looking at the camera, something that he had thought Terran custom.

The sole (presumably) male child had his arms around the sole yellow haired female child and was lifting her off the ground. The female child had her legs splayed out in front of her, kicking, as she laughed. Her brother laughed in her ear. A brown haired female child stood behind the male child and had her arms wrapped around his neck, tugging him backwards. The third child, also a brown-haired female, was seated on her father's right foot with her arms and legs wrapped around his corresponding leg. She grinned up at him. Lady Dora was seated on a counter-top, and the Ambassador was leaning against her knees, kissing her mouth with his. Sarek blinked and averted his eyes, turning them back to his companion.

Lady Dora was staring at the holograph. She reached out and touched it with her forefinger. Sarek tilted his head. Lady Dora turned back to him, smiling once more. "Let's get you situated, honey."


"I apologize for our lack of cultural knowledge. This was a very impromptu appointing," Ambassador Grayson told Sarek as they sat in the Ambassador's home office. Lady Dora was seated on the Ambassador's desk, her legs crossed beneath her and a mug of a human beverage - coffee - pressed to her lips. Sarek tilted his head curiously, noting the PADDs with various Vulcan documents opened on them.

"The late Ambassador Boccelli died 28 days ago."

"Yes, but they appointed me less than a week ago," Ambassador Grayson told him. Sarek inclined his head in acknowledgement. They were silent for a while, the Ambassador and his wife gazing at each other for a few moments, before Lady Dora turned to Sarek once more, a polite smile plastered to her face.

"We have been doing research for the past few days," she gestured to the PADDs. "Unfortunately, we have been able to learn very little about Vulcans. You are a very secretive species, huh?" She laughed lightly, and exchanged a grin with her husband across the room, where he fiddled with a strange, old-looking Terran contraption that emitted a scent similar to that coming from Lady Dora's mug. Sarek concluded that it created the 'coffee.'

"Why would Starfleet appoint someone with very little knowledge on Vulcan culture to the position of Ambassador to Vulcan?" Sarek questioned, tilting his head. The smile faltered on Lady Dora's face. Ambassador Grayson's hands froze against the 'coffee-maker.' He took a deep breath, plastered a polite smile onto his face, similar to his wife's (Curious. Why do they find the need to smile when they obviously do not wish to?), and reached for a jar of water.

"You are aware, of course, of the tragedy of the spaceshuttle U.S.S. Doyle, carrying the Terran ambassador to Vulcan earlier this month?"

"Of course." Lady Dora silently held out an empty glass, which her husband filled with water. She wordlessly offered it to Sarek. He inclined his head, but hesitated on reaching out for it. She blinked twice, and set it on the desk in front of him with a warm smile as her husband continued to talk.

"The position needed to be filled quickly for your arrival, and for the Federation meeting next week. I was formerly one of three Ambassadors to Romulan, so they thought I'd do," Ambassador Grayson explained.

Sarek raised an eyebrow. "Did the ambassador not have a secondary?" The Ambassador drew in a shaky breath, and Lady Dora excused herself from the room quickly. Sarek raised his other eyebrow. "I have upset you and your wife."

Ambassador Grayson pulled his lips into a tight smile. "It is...a sensitive subject."

Sarek acknowledged that with a brief dip of his head. "Yes. Humans are strongly emotionally attached to one another. I assume you feel empathy for the late ambassador due to the fact that you were in possession of similar careers."

Ambassador Grayson smiled again, less forced this time. "You are probably correct." Sarek inclined his head once more. "Derek, the ambassador's secondary, was - he was also - he was killed in the explosion as well."

"Unfortunate."

The Ambassador blinked, and an emotion Sarek couldn't detect flashed across his face. The Ambassador opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a high pitched squeal as a flash of blonde hair launched itself into the Ambassador's arms. Sarek stood quickly, unclasping his hands to prepare for self defense, but froze upon hearing the Ambassador chuckle deeply.

"Happy Lunchtime, Papa!" A tiny voice exclaimed, and an equally tiny child peppered the Ambassador's face with kisses. Sarek was flabbergasted - no, merely processing the scene properly in order to ascertain the correct decorum.

A young, brown-haired female adult followed the child into the room, reaching for the child. "Daddy, I'm so sorry," the woman gushed, looking over at Sarek worriedly. She untangled the girl from the Ambassador gently, placing the child on her hip and turning to smile apologetically at Sarek.

"My most sincere apologies, Ambassador Sarek!" Ambassador Grayson smiled, equally apologetically, but less worried than the woman. "I suppose I can't keep them locked away forever!" Sarek raised an eyebrow in concern, but the woman smiled fondly at the Ambassador. "This is my daughter Esther and my granddaughter, Katie."

Sarek raised his hand in the ta'al, and the woman nodded with a smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm so sorry about Katie! She really wanted to say hi to Dad on her way to lunch. She didn't see them this morning, and she was a tad worried."

The child squirmed in Esther's arms noisily, and squeaked happily when she was released with a request to behave. The Ambassador knelt next to Katie where she stood staring up at Sarek, who stared back with - of course - an eyebrow raised. "Katie, this is Ambassador Sarek, from Vulcan." Sarek raised his hand in the ta'al once more, and Katie buried her face in the Ambassador's shoulder, tugging on his sleeve and mumbling into the fabric of his sleeve. The Ambassador lifted her into his arms and whispered back loudly, winking at Sarek: "Maybe you should ask him."

"But - you! Pleeease!" She whined back in an equally loud whisper. Esther crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight onto one foot as she smiled at the pair.

"You might be hurting his feelings by ignoring him." Sarek tilted his head to the side at this untrue claim.

"'Feelings' cannot be physically harmed, Ambassador," he told the Ambassador. "It is strange that you have been living under this perception. Perhaps we should discuss the education curriculum of Terran children." Three pairs of eyes stared at him as if he had said that Vulcans used Terran 'fairy tales' as textbooks for their young. He snickered internally.

Katie giggled, the laughter bubbling out of her mouth, similar to the wedding bells that would ring from churchs on Earth. Sarek frowned internally at this metaphor. It was illogical. A child's laughter could not sound like a large variation of a classical Terran instrument. Katie covered her mouth, writhing in the Ambassador's arms as she laughed. She grinned up at him, then stretched out her arms towards him, touching his face with her chubby, minuscule hands. Sarek froze in shock, tensing up immediately at the sudden ambush of emotions. Happiness, curiosity, love, wonder, confusion, love, warmth, acceptance, love.

"You have funny ears," she informed him with a happy smile. The Ambassador finally reacted, taking two large steps backwards, pulling Katie with him. She frowned up at her grandfather, her look demanding an explanation and now.

"Ambassador Sarek is a Vulcan, baby. Vulcans don't like being touched," he explained gently, looking over at Sarek with wide eyes, as if he feared this would cause an intergalactic incident. That would be illogical, of course, but the Ambassador did not need to know that.

Katie's eyes widened comically. She turned back to Sarek. "Sar - Saek - Sek doesn't like hugs?" she asked him with a trembling voice.

He shook his head. "I have never received an embrace. Such actions of Human affection are...illogical." Katie stared at him for a long time.

"Why?" she asked, scrunching her face up in confusion. The Ambassador sighed.

"Aren't you hungry, baby?" he asked, handing Katie over to Esther.

"Yes! What's for lunch?" she asked, tugging on Esther's shirt.

Sarek tilted his head. "Your child has a short attention span. Perhaps you should test her for an attention disorder," he suggested helpfully.

Esther stared at him with a trembling lip, and the Ambassador let out a shaky sigh, running a hand through his already mussed-up hair. "She's not -" Esther started, but the Ambassador put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. Esther grimaced, and left the room, engaging Katie in conversation with a deceptively light tone.

The Ambassador took a long sip of his coffee, wincing as it undoubtedly burned the nerve receptors on his tongue. "Katie is not Esther's daughter," he said finally, not looking Sarek in the eye. "Her mom died a few years back in childbirth. The baby didn't make it either. Katie lives with us because - 'cause - well, my son - Derek was - he was killed in the explosion with Tony."

Sarek blinked as he analyzed this information, and the Ambassador blinked back tears, coughing to dislodge the mucus that had gathered in his throat.

"Derek Grayson, the Secondary to Terran Ambassador Antonio Boccelli to Vulcan, was your son," Sarek felt the need to repeat this information.

"Uh huh." The Ambassador took another long sip of his 'coffee.'

The two men stood in silence for a long while. The Ambassador cleared his throat.

"Ahem. Well, let's go grab some lunch, why don't we?" He started for the door.

"Ambassador Grayson."

The Ambassador turned around, an eyebrow raise expectantly. Sarek approached him, standing .9 Terran yards in front of him.

"I grieve with thee."

The Ambassador stared at him for another long moment, before smiling and patting Sarek's upper forearm once with a nod, and stepped out of the room.


Well? What'd ya'll think? I think I'll like this story. Vulcans are awesome. Just saying. Review?