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Oh, Pretty Woman

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Pretty woman walking down the street

Pretty woman, the kind I’d like to meet

Here was Amandus Grayson, unexpectedly sweating on his palms and wiping them off on his nicest pair of dress pants. He had just gotten out of a meeting with Starfleet higher-ups and the new ambassador from Vulcan.

Pretty woman… I don’t believe you, you’re not the truth

No one could look as good as you

Her name was S’chn T’gai T’Sarek (the first two thirds of that being indescribably difficult for his human tongue to pronounce) and she was drop-dead gorgeous . After one of the admirals had her introduce herself, Amandus found himself murmuring, “Mercy…” under his breath. He had seen several Vulcan women stroll through at sparse times, most likely flattening out relations between their homeworld and the Federation, but they did not compare to T’Sarek.

Amandus had been released first from the briefing as the admirals discussed further matters with the ambassador and for whatever reason stood outside along with what he could only imagine were T’Sarek’s two ladies-in-waiting. He wasn’t even entirely sure why they had called upon him in the first place to meet the ambassador. Sure, he was a prominent figure in his field of teaching but he didn’t think it would be enough to elicit the admirals to take interest in him and want him to see their newest ambassador.

Pretty woman, won’t you pardon me?

Pretty woman, I couldn’t help but see…

Pretty woman… That you look lovely as can be

Are you lonely just like me?

He let out a sigh. He was thinking back over how tongue-tied he had gotten and how nervous he was about if he were to forget his proper etiquette. It would be a poor impression if he let an attraction-laden brain do the talking so he had to manually exert self-control, much like a Vulcan would.

He was never this frazzled on a regular basis; usually, he was a soft-spoken and intellectual man with a soft spot for botany. He had desires here and there but a good reputation, career-wise and as a person. He was a good public speaker, yet, here, he had been stuttering the most he ever had.  The phrase ‘epic fail’ was two centuries outdated but that’s certainly what this was.

He could only imagine T’Sarek had a husband waiting back on Vulcan or wherever she was to take residency while on diplomatic relations with Earth. Amandus was no home-wrecker or anything. And even if she was not married (technically, bonded , as he knew from his few studies on Vulcan culture), she would likely have no interest in him; he had appeared as a fool and was human . At least he could bask in her loveliness and hope it gave his loneliness some solace.

Just as he was delving into that aforementioned consolation, the door to the briefing room slid open and appeared T’Sarek, pausing for only a moment to have her companions flank either side of her, and strode past the large, glorious windows of that hall where all the meeting rooms were housed. The light catching in her onyx hair and on the shimmery glitter collected towards to bottom of the gradient fabrics she was draped in, intensifying her beauty. She didn’t dare bat an eyelash at the human male watching her pass, not even looking towards him after exiting the room in the first place. It hurt a bit but he completely understood and braced himself for expecting she would not seek out his council, given her lowly opinion that he could only assume she held.

Pretty woman stop a while

Pretty woman talk a while

Oh was he wrong. She sought him out the very next day in fact. Amandus was sat in his office, long after the schooling hours of the academy had ended, grading papers when his door whistled. He hailed whoever it was in, only standing up when he recognized the poker face and self-assured stride. He hadn’t anticipated to see T’Sarek but here she was, in the flesh. Her dark eyes were occupied with the PADD in her hand and thankfully hadn’t caught onto his sparse blush.

“G-greetings, Ambassador. I apologize that I hadn’t foreseen this visit-” Amandus once again couldn’t hold back his stutter and was about to ramble when he was saved by a delicate hand being raised to stop him.

“Apologies are unnecessary, Mr. Grayson, as I was the one who came in unannounced,” Her brown eyes looked up to meet his blue-grey ones, “I came to inquire on a subject matter and believed you would be the most suitable provider of my answer.” Her speech was so elegant and articulate that his heart was doing flips. To his advantage, Vulcans were touch telepaths so she wouldn’t be able to directly read the hearts swimming in the pools of his eyes, but they were probably obvious.

“Of course, anything to help.” was all he could manage to reply. He pulled on of the chairs from the other side of his desk around so she could sit close to him but at a safe enough distance, noting the way the turquoise of her dress complemented the green tint to her skin; yesterday, she wore a regal purple that, actually, highlighted the light brown of her eyes. She gathered the fabric of the skirt so she could sit properly and began to go on about her questions on Terran nature.

Together, they sat until sunset going through her multitude of questions she had already thought of in the past twenty-four hours. Amandus held a constant look of awe but kept formality when answering what she asked, or at least to the best of his ability.

He happened to be in the middle of an answer as to why humans were so overly fond of hoarding small plants such as succulents (count him guilty as charged) when T’Sarek stood suddenly, her internal chronometer having made a loud ding if it been a Terran timer.


“Forgive me… I seemed to have let time slip and neglected other matters I must attend to.” If she weren’t Vulcan, her face would have been painted in fear and swallowed concern.

“Oh…” There was a bit of sadness wallowing in the blue of Amandus’s eyes but he reminded himself it must be important if she were needing to rush.

Pretty woman give your smile to me

“Good night, Mr. Grayson. I am grateful for your assistance today.” There was a flicker of a smile on her pale mint lips and that was more than Amandus could ask for.

“Good night, Ambassador. I’m glad to have been of use.” They exchanged a quick ta’al before T’Sarek was out the door.

It would another week until she would even message him. He decided not to take it too harshly, understanding the work of an ambassador was full of duties to attend to. But, it was undeniable there was a certain tinge in his heart when his PADD notified him of a message from her.

[AMB] S.T.TSAREK: Good afternoon, Mr. Grayson. I believe I owe you an apology for my abrupt ending to our discussion session last week.

A.S.GRAYSON: It’s quite alright, Ambassador. I understand.

[AMB] S.T.TSAREK: Are you occupied this evening? I should like to further explain myself.

A.S.GRAYSON: Of course. Is 18:00 at my apartment sufficient?

[AMB] S.T.TSAREK: Indeed.

While it wasn’t quite a date, Amandus was glad to at least be able to see T’Sarek again, if nothing else.  It would probably only be a small matter but it drifted in the back of his mind all day, fortunately not enough to disrupt his teaching and grading skills. He was finished at 16:30 and hurried home to skid into a hasty sonic shower to appear half decent and manage the bit of tidying he had been meaning to do for two weeks now.

He had poured and drank a sip of brandy to calm his nerves that were oddly going haywire when his front door chimed. He set the glass back in its place and answered the door, met by T’Sarek looking as dignified as ever in a marine blue ensemble. Amandus motioned her in and immediately noticed the small girl trailing on the back of the dress.

The child couldn’t have been more than four Terran years old, bangs seemingly cut straight but out of line by the volume of her hair. Her big eyes looked around to everything, analyzing it as she walked. T’Sarek took a seat on the sofa and waited for the child to catch up before bringing her into her lap.

“Mr. Grayson, this is my daughter, T’Sybok.” Her eyes were cast on the floor, probably not wanting to gauge his reaction. Amandus was rattled, for sure, but attempted to keep a calm composure.

“I was unaware you had a child.” Though it was uncomfortable, Amandus awkwardly knelt to offer T’Sybok a ta’al, receiving a miniature one in return.

“I had failed to inform you the last time we met… I left in such a haste because I had realized I had left her in the care of my ladies in waiting far too long and was needed elsewhere. I hope you were not distraught after I took my leave.” T’Sarek’s eyes came up from the linoleum finally.

“As I said before, I completely understand. Family is important and you left with good cause. I don’t believe I could be mad at anyone for that.” Amandus smiled a shining grin and T’Sarek felt her pulse elevate in that green heart of her’s. The tips of her ears flushed a deep emerald, threatening to reach her cheeks. It was then that she put a name to the emotion she was trying her best to hide: infatuation.

She sat for a quiet minute before standing, ready to leave and too flustered to say anything else. Amandus caught on and walked her to the door, like the gentleman he was. Seconds before she and T’Sybok were out the door, T’Sarek kissed his cheek to show affection in a Terran way, which made Amandus melt when they were gone.

They married a year later and relocated to Vulcan. Within a year of their bonding ceremony, they were expecting.

Vulcan bodies were much more resistant than human bodies so for most of the pregnancy, T’Sarek was still being her usual diplomatic self, even if the healers confined her to stay on planet. Here and there, Amandus would give her those pleading baby blues and she’d give in to taking a break for a little while. During those breaks, she would meditate or read, something to occupy her ever restless attention.

Amandus always had a degree of worry every second of the day since they were harboring the first ever successfully conceived human-Vulcan hybrid, which meant extra precautions for the mother. There were lots of ‘ifs’ and ‘whats’ to be had but mostly, they just handled things as they came.

Somewhere towards the end of what was a human’s second trimester, Amandus had convinced T’Sarek to take a rest after pacing and working through a speech she needed to give soon. She had let a sigh pass her lips and picked up where she left off in a Surakian scripture, noting her husband’s glances towards her stomach in her peripheral vision. When she started feeling a small sense of irritation about it, she finally looked over at him.

Adun , I am not a wild animal; I will not harm you if you desire to feel for the baby, if that is what you are wondering.” She reassured him.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable since Vulcans are so sensitive to touch.” He admitted in a sympathetic tone.

“I do not experience discomfort at your touch, especially as you are my bonded mate.” Amandus smiled at this and offered his wife an ozh’esta, which she returned. He moved closer before gently placing his on her swollen stomach, hoping to feel a little kick or something. There was a bit of a tingle which may have been the faint forming of a prenatal parental bond but he would understand if it wasn’t since humans are a psi-null species.

Adun’a ?”


“I assume you already know the sex through your parental bond?”

Indeed .”

Here they were, thirty-eight years later. Their daughter had survived the birthing process and the first few months of life and now was a beautiful, matured woman. Commander Spock had a nice ring to it (and yes, they decided to go out of fashion and dropped the traditional prefix, make it a little easier on the tongue) and the USS Enterprise definitely had a reputation built for itself. She had the stubbornness from both parents with her mother’s stone cold Vulcan vibes but deep down was just as humanly compassionate as her father. And it seemed she had some eyes for Captain Kirk (he knew a Vulcan when they were in love.)

It was a bit painful to watch the continued animosity between his two Vulcans. But, he hoped T’Sarek seeing Spock’s interactions with her crew would lighten the burden slightly. His hopes got even higher when Spock finally caved in to help her mother by transfusing blood. Kirk held the same tender glimmer in her eye towards Spock from across the sickbay as Amandus always held for his wife. It looked as though there was a generational pattern of humans and Vulcans sharing a simple feeling for each other.

When T’Sarek met her husband’s eye and they shared an ozh’esta, all Amandus could think was:

Oh oh, pretty woman .”