By
StarTrekFanWriter
Rating: G
Summary: Sarek and Amanda get caught in a rainstorm and end up talking about katras.
Disclaimer: I don't own. I don't profit.
Special
thanks to Beta Notes from the classroom who is feeling under the weather this
week and still edited this little fic. If you haven't
read her newest "What We Think We Know" (in my faves)
you're missing out – I think it may be the best she's written.
Archived
with permission
A/N:
For
a slow burning, how they got together fic check out
"The Native".
Someone
said Sarek was being illogical, but he only said, "There is no
evidence..." based on how the existence of katras were determined. Logical, but rather narrow
minded.
I
admit, I'm firmly agnostic...and find efforts to prove or disprove the
existence of "souls" or God to be a little bit silly. Anyway, hope
you enjoyed
Free Spirits
Hurrying
up
Sarek
was the "Junior Ambassador" at the Vulcan Embassy. What exactly that officially
entailed Amanda wasn't precisely sure. In Sarek's case, unofficially, it seemed
to involve inserting his foot into his mouth most of the time. But he'd become
aware of his deficiencies and had asked Amanda to assist him in understanding
Terran culture in exchange for Vulcan language lessons.
Amanda
was pursuing a Master Degree in education, and since the field was currently
dominated by Vulcan research it seemed a logical exchange.
Today
they'd spent their exchange time walking along the beach. Vulcan had no oceans
and Amanda thought Sarek might find it fascinating – his favorite word. She was right, and somehow she'd completely
lost track of time until the sky had turned ominous.
How
had they ranged so far from...everything? Now they were in the middle of the
Sunset District without a hover cab in sight.
"If
we can get to
"Agreed,"
said Sarek, seemingly without exertion.
At
almost that exact moment the clouds opened up and the rain fell down in a heavy
gray curtain. Sarek's umbrella opened in an instant.
It hovered over her like a large dark bat as she struggled to open her own.
Even with the cover the rain was ricocheting off of the pavement so hard in a
few minutes they'd both be soaked from the thighs down.
Shivering,
Amanda said, "This isn't going to work." Looking up, she saw a church
a few meters ahead. It was definitely pre-mistake, made of light stucco, and
Spartan in design. What caught Amanda's eye were dry alcoves by the doors.
"Come
on," she said pulling up her collar and running up the hill. Sarek didn't
ask any questions. He neatly kept stride with her, bat-like umbrella and all.
Hopping
into the alcove, Amanda turned to Sarek with a breathless smile. Closing his
umbrella and giving it a shake, he tilted his head and looked down at her. She
froze. How had he gotten so close? And was it her imagination, or could she
feel heat radiating off him?
Despite
how quickly he had opened his umbrella, she saw now he hadn't been quick
enough. His hair was damp and nearly flattened against his head. A droplet of
water was clutching precariously to the bottom lobe of one pointed, slightly
olive ear. He looked simultaneously more alien and more human than she'd ever
seen him. It was...sexy.
Looking
away, she shook her head. Silly thoughts. A slight
gust of warm damp air brushed against her cheek. Looking up again she blinked.
It was his breath. They were too close, but not touching, she noted. Maybe
Vulcans did not have the same concept of personal space? Maybe he was not
uncomfortable? She was uncomfortable. Dwelling on the attractiveness of
unavailable men was not a good idea.
Back away, Amanda, back away now. But how to do
that without looking like she was doing that and possibly causing offense?
A
slight shudder seemed to go through Sarek. He closed his eyes and looked down.
Amanda's brow furrowed. That was a shiver. If she was cold, he had to be cold -
Vulcan was notoriously hot and dry.
Turning
her head, Amanda looked at the church door - was it slightly ajar? Reaching out
for the ancient handle, she pulled. Miraculously it opened with a low creak.
Opening
his eyes, Sarek said, "We will not be trespassing?"
Motioning
for him to go in before her, Amanda said, "No, it's a church. If the door
is open, they want us to come in. We'll call a cab, but wait inside where it's
warm."
Nodding,
Sarek followed her arm. She might have been imagining things, but she swore as
he stepped into the warmer space beyond, his shoulders relaxed a bit even as he
pulled out his comm.
As
Sarek called the hover cab company, Amanda walked past him down the aisle. The
seats were worn with age. The air was warm, but damp and musty. Her eyes were
drawn to the statue of the Virgin Mary and a mass of votive candles to the left
of the altar. Her feet followed her eyes.
Amanda
wasn't religious; it had been almost a year since she had been in a church.
That church had been Catholic, too.
She'd
been there for her grandmother's funeral. She looked down at the battered
collection box in front of the votives. She could hear the sound of the rain
pounding on the roof and stifled a shiver thinking of the chill outside - but
now she was bathed in warm yellow light.
Reaching
into her pocket, she pulled out a few credits, slipped them into the box, and
lit a candle. "This is for you, Grandma," she whispered. Crossing
herself, she put her hands together and said, "I hope you saw that
wherever you are."
Warmth
seemed to seep into her spine... A religious experience or...
"What
are you doing?" said Sarek, so close behind her she nearly jumped.
...or a too warm alien too close again.
She'd
have to discuss personal space issues at some point. And the fact that human
ears were not as sensitive and he'd frightened her coming up behind her so
quietly. But first things first.
"They're
votive candles," said Amanda. "It's customary to light one when you
are praying for something or someone."
"You
are not religious," Sarek pointed out.
"No,
but my grandmother was Catholic, and it seemed appropriate--"
"Aside
from the illogical aspect of praying to an omnipotent and omniscient being of
doubtful existence, what is the logic in praying for someone who is dead?"
Sarek said.
There
were reasons he was only Junior Ambassador - but Amanda sometimes
wondered how he'd even gotten that position. Furrowing her brow, she turned to
look at the Vulcan. For a moment her gaze caught on his lips, slightly damp,
glistening...and kissable...and then she met his eyes, cold, black and
obsidian.
"Just
because I'm not religious doesn't mean I don't think she doesn't live on...in
some way," said Amanda.
"Ah,
you believe that humans posses katras...souls,"
said Sarek.
"I
think the potential is there," Amanda said.
"There
is no evidence that humans posses katras," said
Sarek.
No
evidence humans possessed katras? "And
there is evidence that Vulcans do?"
"Yes,"
said Sarek. "It has been conclusively tested and proven."
So
humans didn't have souls...but Vulcans did? Even though Amanda wasn't convinced
in the existence of souls she found this...insulting...and she'd just thought
his lips were kissable?
She
crossed her arms over her chest. Maybe it was just her knowledge of religious
history. Declaring a group soulless had been used on Earth to justify genocide
and prejudice.
Once
again she was uncomfortable with him standing so close, but at this moment it
was because it made the urge to strangle him that much more difficult to
resist.
Clenching
her arms tightly to her chest, she said. "And how, pray tell, did they
prove that?"
Putting
his hands behind his back, Sarek said, "Just before death, the dying
Vulcan can transfer their katra to an inanimate object: a box, or a vase, for
instance...although it turns out a container type object is not necessary. From
there another Vulcan can receive the katra and the dying ones' emotions,
consciousness and memories...even centuries after death."
"And
this doesn't work for humans--" said Amanda.
"No,"
said Sarek.
"Which proves nothing." Amanda narrowed her eyes.
"Maybe human souls just value liberty too much to be caught...in a
box."
Sarek
blinked. "Perhaps."