Amanda, wife of Sarek, took another sip of her punch and glanced around the reception area. Her husband had waved her on ahead, with the twitch of his lips that filtered through their bond as a fond smile. Truthfully, she enjoyed these gatherings more than he did, and many people trusted her, both for her humanness and for her perceived lack of actual power.
They were mistaken, since they did not know that her mind nestled alongside her bondmate’s, pertinent details passed along bright tendrils of thought. So she sipped at her punch and watched the room, smiling to herself as ambassadors and their aides overlooked her. She felt Sarek’s amusement over their bond, he had always found her subterfuge charming, though he never vocally admitted to it. Her talents had served them well over the years, though human she was Sarek’s logical intellectual match.
Sending a pulse of warmth along their bond, she withdrew from her husband’s mind as she sensed him fading into meditation. He often did so before stressful interspecies encounters, so she left him to his privacy. It was just as well, for at that moment she noticed something that made her pause and blink in astonishment.
Across the room, bending close over a platter of finger sandwiches, Captain Kirk and Doctor McCoy spoke quietly with each other. This in itself was not unusual, she knew that the two were close friends. What made Amanda set her cup on a nearby table and lean forward with interest was their hands. To any other outside observer they would have appeared to simply be brushing up against one another, standing as close as they were, but Amanda was no ordinary observer. Married many decades to a Vulcan, she immediately recognized the discrete yet lingering brush of fingertips that the human pair across the room were sharing. Their faces seemed neutral, but looking closer, Amanda could see the tips of the captain’s ears had grown pink. The doctor, to his credit, had managed to remain completely passive. Their verbal conversation had petered off, but their eyes flicked back and forth as if still speaking.
Initially shocked, it took Amanda a moment to realize they could not have learned this sign of affection on their own. Much less the level of non-verbal communication they seemed to be engaged in. She glanced around the room in search of her son, possibly the only person they could have learned such behavior from, but he was occupied on the far side of the room, back turned to both his mother and the oblivious couple.
Amanda sighed and picked up her glass again. It clinked against the table just enough that Captain Kirk and the good doctor sprang apart, suddenly guilty looks painted across their features. Raising an eyebrow at them, she caught movement on the edge of her vision and turned to see her son excusing himself from his conversation, eyes flicking back over his shoulder towards the table. As he began making his way across the room he blinked slowly and breathed out in a way that Amanda immediately recognized. He was trying very hard not to make a very human display of emotion. By the twitching of his lips and the twinkle in his eye he had never quite mastered, he was on the verge of amused laughter.
Everything clicked. Even before Spock reached his now-painfully-obvious bondmates and brushed his fingers featherlight over their own, Amanda knew. She saw the spark in her son’s eyes that reminded her so strongly of Sarek. Amanda had not thought to see her son so happy in his bonding, but now it seemed he had surpassed her expectations.
Blinking back sudden tears, she turned away to compose herself. When she looked back, the three were gone, the captain and her son to mingle, and the doctor disappearing through the door.
Amanda, is all well? Sarek’s familiar mind touched hers and she sent a pulse of contentment back to him.
I am happy, my husband. That is all.