Catching Fireflies on
Mid-Summer's Eve
---Mary Stacy
http://fardreaming.com/sarek_and_amanda/home.html
Sa/Am, G
Summary: I started this as a single one of my very short stories, and then in my attempt to write a longer piece, started to expand into several parts, exploring points along Sarek and Amanda's courtship.
PART l – SUMMER
Could there ever be a more perfect summer night? Just
enough of a breeze to stir the leaves of the great ancient oak that stood guard
for several hundred years over the old farmhouse porch, the tree was filled
with the flickering light of hundreds of fireflies. Their soft yellow-green glow laced the
branches, a magical event in the making that would be over far too quickly.
In the distance, she could hear the murmur of voices in the library, doubtless
in a heated discussion of some great matter of interplanetary politics from the
looks of the half dozen limos that lined the drive. Having a grandmother who had been Secretary
of State for the two previous administrations, could be interesting at times,
but when all you wanted was a peaceful evening at home with a book, it could
turn into a burden. If she tried, she could sneak in through the kitchen and
then up the backstairs to her room. It wouldn't matter that she wasn't
properly dressed, or that her hair was a tangled mess of curls from being out
riding most of the day. It was such a beautiful night though, the
fireflies, the smell of honeysuckle from a nearby vine, the chorus of
crickets—she wished she could bottle it all up and save it forever. At
nineteen, she had her whole life ahead of her, and somehow tonight it seemed it
was just about to begin.
"A perfect night," she sighed to herself, taking in a deep breathe of
its sweetness.
"Indeed."
The voice that answered her was like a whisper on the wind. Were it not
for the gentle movement of the floor boards underneath her, she might have
thought it was her imagination.
"The insects, I have never seen this before in my years on your world.
They glow."
She wanted to turn around and see the source of this wonderful voice, but that
was to chance disappointment. Too many of those melodious voices that
would emanate from her grandmother's library over the years, well, they usually
seemed to belong to beings that were not always the most pleasant to look
at. Maybe for this one, she would keep the fantasy of a Prince Charming
in the shadows.
"Is there a reason?"
A wash of velvet through the air, she smiled at her vision, before she
answered.
"We only have this treat for a very few weeks in the summer, while they're
looking for mates. My mother used to say, " she paused, a long
forgotten memory of the two of them in the same yard, a dozen summers past, chasing
the lights through the air, " that love is like these fireflies, it lights
the sky for a short time and then fades away.
If you are lucky enough to find someone in the short time we have, it's
like catching a special mid-summer eve firefly. The spell of that one moment is
held in your hands for as long as you believe in its magic."
He didn't answer but moved closer to the porch rail, just on the other side of
the post. An elegant sleeve reached, and he held his left hand, large yet
finely boned. Four fingers and an
opposing thumb. This was a good sign, she smiled inwardly. She watched as
two of the insects settled on the tips of his fingers. Reaching down he held them out for her to
take. Steeling herself for
disappointment, she glanced up at him. In the moonlight she could see the
curve of a classic roman nose, the angle of a high cheekbone, the glint of
white behind a full mouth as he opened it to speak.
"They do not seem to object too much to being 'caught', do they?"
She didn't want to break this moment, it was like moving within a dream.
Any second now…
"We've been looking all over for you!" the creak of the screen door
coincided with her grandmother's laugh, "Naadiir
has needs some support. Ak-it-tom has not given her a
chance to get a word in, and we all know you are the only one capable of
getting it to quiet down." Suddenly
her grandmother saw her sitting on the step, the fireflies still perched on her
hand. "Oh Amanda, you know how
those bugs smell, come in and wash your hands then stop in and give our guests
a proper hello."
Amanda stood and thrust her hand into the breeze, the spell broken as the
insects flew away. She turned toward the door just in time to catch the elegant
point of an ear and swept of a brow in the hall light. He turned, as if he felt her eyes upon him,
and gave a slight nod of his head. Smiling, Amanda walked to the door,
hearing her grandmother's voice and it filled the hall.
"Naadiir, look who I found on
my porch talking to my granddaughter when he should have been in here helping
us?"
The soft, familiar sound of Naadiir's hiss,
followed. "Sarek."
"Sarek," Amanda whispered to herself, holding the name like a firefly
caught on mid-summer's eve.
Part II – Fall
She drove the aircar up the winding drive, as always
anticipating the moment when she would see it standing there, welcoming her to
the only real home she ever knew. The leaves had started to turn gold
already and it seemed that the tree was tipped in fire. It was an effect
brought on in part by the frost of the last week, but today it was hot, hotter
than it had been in almost a month. It was a true Indian summer day, the
last fading spell of the dying season, giving one futile gasp before retreating
for another year.
This had been the first chance since classes had started for her to come home
and she was determined to make it. Ideally, she would have preferred to have
the house and her grandmother to herself, but she had been forewarned in
advance to expect houseguests. The one thing Louisa Saint had always insisted
on was that her home be large enough to house a small army and welcoming enough
to make them stay. With six bedrooms and seven baths, there was always enough
room for the constant stream of visitors that seemed to find a way to her
grandmother's lively country retreat, and this weekend was no exception.
Getting out of her car, Amanda squinted in the sunlight, trying to place a name
and a face to each member of the party spread out across the lawn. Her
grandmother Louisa sat in a large
She waved at the group, as she reached into the back seat of her car to pull
out her luggage. She had tried to fit everything in one large piece
thinking it would be easier, but instead it was cumbersome and heavy. Now
the case had wedged itself behind the front seat of the small coupe.
Amanda tugged and grunted, pulling as hard as she could, trying to set it
free. She landed squarely on her
posterior; the suitcase finally winning the battle. She could hear her
grandmother's laughter reverberating in the distance. Amanda cast a threatening look over her left
shoulder in its direction. When she turned back, the suitcase stood by the side
of the car and a hand was extended out in assistance. Trying to compose
herself, she took the proffered hand and brushing herself off, turned to thank
her savior.
Meeting his face, she tried her best to register neither the surprise nor
delight she felt in seeing him again. All she could do was say his name.
"Sarek."
And he in returned replied, "Yes."
The weekends home were always a study in contrasts: individual moments passed in languid, quiet
stretches, while the days themselves flew past far too quickly. It seemed as if it was time to leave before
she had hardly said hello. In a few hours she would need to be on her way
back to the city if she were to make it to her morning class.
Sometimes, she thought it would actually be better to leave as soon as she
awoke, avoiding the torturous countdown to departure. But she could never bring
herself not to savor every last moment, always staying until it was too late.
The warm autumn air enveloped her, enticing her to stay, forget school, forget
her apartment in the city, forget every moment but
this one. She looked up into the branches of the guardian oak, knowing
that the next time she saw it, the limbs would be stripped bare, and the
summer-like warmth would be only a memory. Absentmindedly, she twirled one of
the oak's cast-off leaves in her hands, forming a farewell in her mind.
The door barely made a sound as it opened, and the footsteps across the porch
were soft and sure. She waited until they were past her and on the
walkway before she looked up and their owner turned to face her.
"I did not mean to disturb your meditation."
She felt a little leap in her heart when he spoke. Louisa had warned her when she had seen the
signs. She tried to tell her
granddaughter she would have better luck getting romantically involved with a Denebian eel herder, but Amanda couldn't help it. Sarek looked at her and it was as if every
nerve in her body stood on edge.
"No, no," she stumbled with her words, "I was just killing time
doing nothing, waiting until I have to leave."
"I am going to walk."
It was a pronouncement, yet he seemed to wait for a moment before going any
further. "You will walk with me."
She wasn't sure if that was a question or a statement, but she got up and
joined him as he made his way down the path, making small talk about the
weather, if he liked it here on Earth, what she was studying in school.
At the end of the well-worn walkway, he turned back toward the manicured
gardens and lawns.
"Wait," Amanda held back for a moment, then
gave into her impulse, "I know a special path that leads into the woods,
if you'd like to go in further."
Without hesitation, he nodded and she led him through a narrow, hidden break
into the bushes, and into her own private retreat. Already, the path was
covered with the first layer of fallen leaves, softly rustling beneath their
feet. It was always so silent back here, as if all other time and place
had slipped away. The sound of a leaf falling shimmered through the
air.
"When I was a child, this was my escape route when I wanted to get
away." She took in a breath of the
moist, woody smell that only fall could offer.
"Did you ever have such a place?"
Sarek paused for a moment, as if trying to decide whether or not to share a
confidence. "It was very… different than this, the desert."
"I can't really imagine not having trees around me. The thought seems so strange." She laughed and looked up at him, "But
then I can't really imagine you needing to escape from anything, now that I
think about it!"
"No?" he answered softly. "It is so." He seemed to be lost in distant thought, then quickly diverted the subject back to her. "You
have lived with your grandmother?"
"Well, since I was two, when my parents got divorced. My father was, is,
in Star Fleet. My mother got tired of holding down the fort while he
played space cadet. I hardly remember him really. After the divorce we came and
moved in with Gran."
"And your mother now?"
"She was offered a teaching assignment on Alpha Centuri
three years ago. She, Gran, and I all thought it best
that I finish my schooling here, then if I wanted to,
I could join her in a few years."
"And do you think you will at that time?"
A lone scarlet leaf stood out among the gold, fluttering to its end. She
reached out catching on its downward path, making a silent wish, both hopeful
and hopeless. "I don't
know." She let loose a small
sigh. "Maybe I'll be one of those
people who stays Earth-bound all my life.
There's certainly been enough shuttling between the stars in my family to last
several lifetimes at this point. But maybe, at least
once." She looked up at
him. "Tell me what its like out
there among the stars. Then tell me about your world…"
It seemed to her that they had only been walking for a matter of minutes,
instead of hours. They circled back on the path, now leading them out from
woods and onto the far side of the lawn, coming finally to the oak tree, which
stood as a silent sentinel for both the house and the forest that circled it.
"In a week these trees will be filled with color, and then it will all be
gone. I hope you'll be able to see some of it before you leave.
It's incredibly beautiful up here now," she glanced down at her feet for a
moment then paused and looked up at him.
He had continued on for another step before realizing she had stopped. He
turned to face her, tilting his head slightly and raising his brows in manner
she had come to identify as a question.
"I wanted to let you know, I'm really happy that you were here this
weekend. I've really enjoyed our walk." She paused for a moment, not knowing how he
would take this admission. "I'm not insulting you am
I?"
"Being insulted? This requires—"
"Human emotion, I know," she laughed, "but can you accept that
I've enjoyed you being here?"
It seemed to her that a smile peeked out from the depths of his eyes,
"Indeed, I would admit it has been a pleasant few days, and this afternoon
a most welcomed diversion."
If this had been a romance novel, he should have swept her into his arms and
kissed her. But this was not a romance novel. He was not Prince Charming, but a
Vulcan. And as a stay leaf fluttered to the ground, marking the space between
them, she knew she could expect nothing more.
Part III: Winter
The snow was falling faster now, small, sharp flakes that
echoed the cold night air. The wind had picked up causing the strings of lights
that rimmed the porch to clatter softly against the rails. The bare branches of
the oak traced across the breadth of the sky, now draped in white, the crystals
glittering like diamonds where they were touched by light.
Louisa's Solstice parties were legendary, and the sounds of laughter and lively
conversation spilled from the doorway as a few of the more timid guests took to
leaving before the snow became too heavy.
Amanda had come to know that no matter what the weather, there would always be
an intrepid crew that would hang on, celebrating through the night and even into
the next day if necessary. Any bad weather always brought a further split
between those that left before the snow had barely started to lie and those
that waited until it was all over. They were black and white, one or another,
lacking any shade of gray.
She shivered a little and slipped back inside. The heat from the roaring open
fire and the mass of bodies congregating around it was like a wall that hit as much
as the cold wind outside. Amanda eased her way down the hall, smiling and
offering a word or two when it seemed appropriate to any wandering guest,
before she finally made it to her destination, the library, where she could
shut the doors and take a deep breath of the silence within.
A familiar cloak lay draped over the loveseat and she tossed her own coat next
to it. Moving in closer to the fire, she could just make out the occupant of
the large chair pulled within the circle of its light, taking in the maximum
effects of its warmth.
"I thought I'd find you here."
"Too loud," they both said it in unison, and she laughed, dropping to
the floor beside his feet. Somehow, she
felt a deep feeling of contentment, sitting there, as if this were her one
special spot in the universe. She turned
to look at him, "Is that difficult for you – a close packed, unruly crowd
like that?"
"It is." Sarek took a breath as if trying to find the word with the
least emotional connotation, "uncomfortable."
Amanda turned toward the fire, hoping that she wasn't a source of
"discomfort" to him as well. Glancing back toward him, she spied a
familiar book on the table next to the chair.
"Poetry? That's not something I'd expect
to find you reading."
"And what would you have me read?" His voice seemed to gently chide
her.
"Maybe a book on Quantum Physics or something. But not poetry." She could see the question reflected in his eyes
before he could voice it. "I would think it's entirely too emotional for
you. How can you pretend to understand what it's about?" She blurted the words out before she thought
about them. A challenge to answer a question she didn't know if she could dare
to ask.
"This is one of your stereotypes is it not?"
She looked sheepishly at him from the corner of her eyes at first, then a
little defiantly, "But it's Vulcans who say they have no emotions, not
humans."
"You confuse the public persona with the individual. Humans assume that because we do not allow
ourselves to be ruled by emotions, we do not have them. I would admit that
there are those among my people who would, in fact, deny that they have any
emotions, but they are fools in doing so. No sentient being can function without
emotion of some sort. Controlling and denying are two very different things. We
are in essence a passionate people, too passionate. So we learn to control."
His response came in an almost formal
tone, but suddenly he softened his voice so it became a gentle question. "
Do you understand?"
"Yes and.no. Sarek?"
The impressive brows lifted he looked at her in anticipation.
"Do you – yourself, personally that is, not as the representative of all
things Vulcan." She took a deep breath.
"Do you really not—"
The door swung open with what seemed like the loudest bang possible.
"The two of you had better get out there if you want to see the tree
lighting!"
The moment was broken, and she turned to reach for her coat. Her grandmother
was sure to quiz her on crowd reaction, so like it or not, she would have to go back outside.
"You were about to ask?"
He quietly stood behind her now. She imagined he could hear how rapidly her
heart raced, or could see her hands shaking as she pulled on her gloves. How
could she have been so brave only a moment ago? Or maybe it had just been
foolish. "Never mind, it;s not really important."
She brushed it off knowing it was important. It was the most important thing in
her life right now.
******************************************************
She felt him at her elbow, before she saw him, as she stood along the rim of
the porch. He kept back, out of the direct impact of the wind and she felt more
than a little pleasure in the fact that she could prevent some of the stronger
gusts from reaching him, that she was his protection against the worst of the
cold. Amanda turned and looked up at him with a smile that held her secret
satisfaction in that fact.
Sarek's cloak was wrapped tight around him, held in place by hands encased in
heavy gloves. Underneath his hood he had wrapped a scarf so that all she could
see were his eyes glittering in reflected light. Alone, their slight upward
tilt gave the impression of curiosity and bemusement. He looked like a desert prince
who had become hopelessly lost. She laughed at the thought and was answered by
a bemused question in his eyes.
"You look like you got lost on your way to a sandstorm and found a
snowstorm instead," she whispered.
Did she imagine the laughter returned in the depths of those eyes, or was she
only fooling herself?
"Indeed," his voice was muffled within the folds of the scarf,
"In many ways, I would find that prospect infinitely more appealing."
"And in other ways?"
"The company here is." before he could finish, his attention
shifted, "The tree—"
She turned back just as her grandmother hit the switch and the guardian oak lit
up, filled with thousands of brightly colored miniature lights, shining like a fairy
beacons, now holding sway against the darkness that was the legacy of this
night, the longest of the year.
A cheer went up from the crowd, exclamations of delight from those that had
never witnessed the lighting before and welcoming shouts from those who had
seen it many times, but always forgot just how wonderful a sight it was. For a
few minutes the greater part of the gathering continued on the lawn, before a
heavier squall of wind and snow made them beat a hasty retreat back to the
security of the house.
Neither Amanda nor Sarek made any motion to move, both holding back on the
porch until it was only the two of them and the tree. She looked up into its
branches and the magic of the night, and took a deep breath before plunging
forward.
"And the company here?" she turned and looked up into those deep
green eyes searching.
He pulled the scarf from around his face, his voice soft, no more than a
whisper on the wind, "I would trade it for no other."
She had backed down from her impulses more than once tonight. She would not do
it again. Lightly, she planted her hands on his chest, and balancing on her toes,
she let her lips brush against his cheek, before pulling the scarf back across
it, sealing her kiss in its place.
"It's too cold for you out here."
"Indeed," he replied his eyes never leaving hers as they turned back to
the warmth of the house.
It was more then she expected and less than she had dreamed. But the guardian
oak, in all its festive glory stood as witness to the fact that for her, it would
be enough – for now.
PART IV – SPRING
There was always that one day in spring, when the season seemed to truly
awaken; in the morning the trees held only the promise of their ripening buds,
and by the afternoon, lured by a day of bright sunshine and warmth, the buds
were gone, replaced by tender green leaves, or heady blossoms. This was such a
day.
The setting sun shone through the unfolding leaves of the oak, a golden beacon
behind a veil of green lace. The earth held that deep loaming smell that only
seems to fill the air when the spring is new and ready to burst forth. It was
time, time for all that was bright, and fresh, and good to be born into the
beckoning arms of the season.
Amanda paused for a moment in the shadows of the porch, drinking in the day,
thinking about how impossible it would have been to have ever envisioned this
turn in her life. She remembered sitting on this very porch, was it just a few
short months ago, or was it years? How long had she been waiting for him to
find her there on the threshold of tomorrow, biding her time until he would
arrive on her doorstep? Now Sarek stood beneath the newly unfurled oak, waiting
for her, mind reaching to where she lay hidden in shadow, calling her forward.
She stepped out into the sunlight, the gentle breeze rustling the hem of her
skirt in a dance of lace around her ankles. It was a dress that held her
history and she wore it proudly as her mother once wore it, and her
grandmother, and generations of women before that: a simple white dress and a
wreath of flowers woven in her curls. Amanda strode straight and true into a
future that others might see as uncertain, but she had never been more sure of anything in her life.
As their eyes met, he spoke her name with his mind and her whole body
reverberated in the recreation of his unique timbre of his voice. Amanda looked
into his eyes and for that moment, the entire universe existed within the two
of them. Then, gently, she felt the tendrils of Sarek's mind slip from within
hers, bringing her back to the reality of a warm spring evening under a
blossoming oak.
She stopped under the branches that she felt had protected her most of her
life. On this day it would be the tree that was giving her away as much as any
relative would. It had sheltered her throughout her childhood and into young
womanhood. Sheltered and protected her for this, a future like none she had
ever imagined.
He looked. resplendent. Standing tall and majestic,
looking like an elven lord from a long ago realm,
robed in intricately cut layers of rust and black velvet traced in gold
bindings. Yes, there was no other word for it but resplendant.
She laughed to herself, seeing the question on his face.
"Usually, it the bride who is all decked out in finery and the groom is
fairly non-descript. We seemed to have crossed
wires," Amanda whispered low, knowing only he could hear.
"Crossed wires? I have offended—"
"No, you look beautiful. I've never seen you dressed so… so
magnificently." She could sense
more than see him filling with what seemed to her like pride.
"These are ceremonial robes and only worn on the most
important of occasions."
"I am honored," she replied in the response he had already taught her
was most appropriate, then looking up at him added her
own, "Thank you."
Sarek looked at her for a moment and so softy spoke, "It is but a small
reflection of the beauty I have before me in you."
His eyes then turned from her, too telling in this open place with others
within sight and hearing, and he straightened, presenting the stoicism he
needed to the rest of her world.
The judge cleared her throat as they turned to face her, the two of them
suddenly made even more aware that there were actually other people in the
universe. The woman was an old friend of the family that her grandmother had
sworn to secrecy-at least until they had both been able to depart Earth for her
new home, somewhere millions of miles away.
"We are gathered here today, family and friends…"
Amanda looked out of the corner of her eye. Her grandmother was softly crying.
She had tried to reassure Louisa earlier that day, wanting to let her know
everything really was okay. There was so much she might have told had things
been different, but she was now duty-bound to keep to herself. She wanted to
tell her grandmother how she was loved, loved and cherished in a way that words
would not hold, to tell her what a gentle and tender lover he was to her. But
all she could say was that she had no fears with him by her side and that
Louisa need not ever worry for her.
"…to love, honor, and cherish from this day forward, till death do you
part?"
"I do."
She had suggested that perhaps he would have liked to change the words; it was
all right with her, she understood, but Sarek had been insistent. In the near
future, light years from here, there would be another ceremony, another exchange
of promises that Amanda would be expected to follow to the letter. They would
have it both ways, no matter how many eyebrows were raised.
"It is tradition," he had said," I would have no other
way."
"Do you, Amanda Grayson, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband,
to love, honor and cherish, from this day forward, till death do you
part?"
"I do," She felt the breath she had been holding release. It was
done. He was now hers are much as she would be his.
"By the power invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You
may now kiss the bride."
Turning, Amanda whispered to him, " You know don't have to."
Sarek softly replied, "But this once, I do."
He bent down and kissed her, in front of the few gathered to see for this
single moment, a public declaration of the inner commitment. And when he
stepped back, she felt her breath pull away for a moment.
It was more than she had ever hoped or dreamed. Her old life ended here and now
and her new life had begun. They stood silent, holding the sacredness of the
moment for a few beats.
From the corner of her eye, she caught a movement in the air beside her. She
reached out to catch its source – an errant acorn. Whether it hung on through
the winter and only now been released by the new growth of leaves, or if by
some fluke had been newly minted, either way it seemed a miraculous gift,
finding its way to her on this of all days. Smiling, Amanda placed it in her
pocket, then took her husband's hand in hers. Maybe
she could find a way to grow an oak tree in the desert.
She gently squeezed his hand.
"My wife?" He looked down at her
questioning.
"Yes. I am." And with that they walked into their future, no longer
alone but as one.
Epilogue: Mid-Summer
"I'm thinking of selling, Manda. The place is
too big for me to keep up with anymore."
Amanda looked out over the lawn and at the two figures softly lit in impending
twilight. Sooner or later she knew this day would come and she was
prepared. "Promise me you won't, Gran. Promise me if it comes to that you'll let me know and
we'll buy it from you."
She turned to the older woman, grasping the hand that held tightly onto the
porch rail, seeing the tracing of tears on the older woman's face outlined in
the dying rays of day. "Will you promise me?"
Louisa turned to her granddaughter, tenderly brushing the younger woman's
cheek. "Look at you, Amanda. You are the proper wife of a Vulcan Xcha'ale'at She gazed out across the stretch of the
darkening lawn. The tall broad figure stood sentinel over a tiny one chasing
the trail of lights through the air.
"These are my roots, Gran," Amanda assured
her. "No matter where I call home
now, this is where I began. I want that for my children and their children. I
want a place for them to know this is where Amanda Grayson was born and raised,
and if they ever choose to return to Earth one day they'll have a place to call
their own."
Amanda watched as her husband scooped up their young son, the better to reach
the fireflies that grew bolder and more populous by the moment in the darkening
sky. A long, graceful left arm extended for a landing, mimicked by a tiny right
one. The figures turned and started to walk back to the porch.
"One day, Gran, one day I may have a daughter or
even a granddaughter, and she may need to find someone who on some distant
mid-summer night can catch a firefly for her," she laughed, moving toward
the steps and her husband and son.
"Would you show your mother and great grandmother what you have
caught?" Sarek's voice was gentle and coaxing, and the two-year-old held
out his hand, a small light flickering like a green-amber jewel within his
palm.
"Do you know what this is?" Amanda's voice filled with delight
tempered by the needed control.
The small head shook, cradled in the crook of his father's neck. "Ous n'ai"
"In English, Spock."
There was a brief look of confusion in the small child's eyes, then a light of
understanding, "Fie fie. See?"
"That's close enough," his mother laughed, and received a wide
yawn in return, "I think that the day has caught up with someone, and it's
time for bed."
"Let me take him," Louisa coaxed, "It not like I will ever get
to see my only great grandson with any frequency.
Amanda smiled in response as his father gently lowered Spock to the porch.
Sarek quietly whispered to the sleepy child, and in turn the small head nodded
and opened his hand to let the captured insect free. Moving to his great
grandmother's side, Spock allowed himself to be led into the house, glancing
back at his parents for one last look.
"We'll be in a little bit to say goodnight," Amanda reassured their
child. "You get into bed and get ready. Maybe you can ask Great Gran to read you a story from one of my old books."
"You're going to sleep in your mother's old room you are. And in the morning…"
The figures of her grandmother and son retreated into the house, her
grandmother's comforting voice fading in the distance. Soon there was no sound
but the crickets and with the last of the sunlight now gone the oak tree stood
lit up in the finery of summer "fire light". Was it really only five
years ago that she sat on these same steps waiting for her life to begin?
"Do you ever regret your decision?" Sarek's voice was a soft whisper,
washing over her in a warm wave as they sat together on the steps.
She wrapped both her arms around his one, and rested her head on his broad
shoulders. "Never."
She turned her face up to meet his and he bent down and kissed her briefly but
tenderly. And as the gazed into one another's eyes, the fireflies danced above.
-----------------Fin-----------------------------------