Title:  Little Red Cloak
Author:  mzsnaz
Rated:  PG-13
Character:  Sarek and Amanda
Summary:  Amanda's version of `Little Red Riding Hood'.  <eg>

[A/N: Something I slapped together between power outages caused by bad storms.]
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Once upon a time there lived in a certain city a young human lady, the prettiest creature who was ever seen. Her father was excessively fond of her, but extremely overprotective; and her dear nanny doted on her still more. This kind woman had a little red cloak made for her. It suited the young lady so extremely well that everybody called her Little Red Cloak.

One day her nanny, having made some cakes, said to her, "Go, my dear, and see how your grandmother is doing, for I hear she has been very ill. Take her a cake, some wine, and my good wishes."

Little Red Cloak set out immediately to go to her grandmother, who lived in another city nearby.  She took a shuttle to the nearest port, and then began to walk to the outskirts of the city.

As she was going through the wood, she met with a Vulcan, who had a very great mind to seduce her, but he dared not, because of some Starfleet officers working nearby in the shuttle station. He asked her where she was going. The poor virginal human, who did not know that it was dangerous to stay and talk to a Vulcan male, said to him, "I am going to see my grandmother and take her a cake and some wine."

"Does she live far off?" asked the Vulcan.

"Oh, yes," answered Little Red Cloak, "it is beyond that open meadow you see there, at the first house in the city."

"Well," said the Vulcan, "I'll go and see her too. Continue to follow this path and I'll go this way, and we shall see who will be there first."

The Vulcan ran as fast as he could, taking the shortest path, and the young human took another, longer way.  She slowed to gather bouquets of bright yellow daffodils and wildflowers for her grandmother.

It was not long before the Vulcan arrived at the old woman's house. He knocked at the door: tap, tap.

"Who's there?"

"Your grandchild, Little Red Cloak," replied the Vulcan in a falsetto voice; "who has brought you a cake and some wine."

The good grandmother, who was in bed, because she was somewhat ill, cried out, "Press the door panel, and the door should open."

The Vulcan pressed the panel, and the door opened, and then he immediately felled the good woman with a neck pinch. After hiding her body in another room, he shut the door and got into the grandmother's bed, expecting Little Red Cloak, who came some time afterwards and knocked at the door: tap, tap.

"Who's there?"

Little Red Cloak, hearing the big voice of the Vulcan, was at first afraid; but believing her grandmother had a cold and was hoarse, answered, "It is your grandchild Little Red Cloak, who has brought you a cake and some wine from nanny."

The Vulcan cried out to her, softening his voice as much as he could, "Press the door panel and come in."

Little Red Cloak pressed the door panel and the door opened.

The Vulcan, seeing her come in, said to her, hiding himself under the bedclothes, "Put the cake upon the table, bring the wine, and come get into bed with me."

Little Red Cloak took off her cloak and got into bed.  She moved closer to her grandmother to warm herself, but was greatly amazed to see how her grandmother looked in her nightclothes, and said to her, "Grandmother, what big arms you have!"

"All the better to hug you with, my dear."

"Grandmother, what big legs you have!"

"All the better to pin you down with, my dear."

"Grandmother, what pointed ears you have!"

"All the better to hear with, my dear."

"Grandmother, what big eyes you have!"

"All the better to drink you in with, my dear."

"Grandmother, what big teeth you have got!"

"All the better to eat you up with."

And, saying these words, this wicked Vulcan fell upon Little Red Cloak, whose screams of protest soon ended as he ate her all up.

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"Amanda, that is not the correct telling of that story."

"Are you sure?"

"I am.  The story, as I recall, is about a wolf and…"

"I've taken some liberties with the Grimm version, but I thought you would appreciate the more personal, adult slant."

"Ah."

"You don't appreciate it?"

"The entire premise of the story is illogical."

"Why is that?"

"Due to the wolf's ability to articulate in Standard and dress itself in clothing. Quite illogical."

"But I changed the wolf to a Vulcan."

"Yes, I noticed that."

"So, you didn't like the story at all?"

"The ending was quite - interesting."

"Interesting?  In what way?"

"Interesting in terms of your rather blatant request."

"Request?  Whatever do you mean?  Sarek?"

"..."

"Sarek?  Oh... I see... oh..."

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Moral: Pretty, virginal young human ladies should never talk to Vulcan males, for if they should do so, they may well get eaten. It's important to remember that there are many kinds of Vulcans. There are those who are charismatic, solemn, refined, and unpretentious. Unfortunately (or fortunately.), it is these gentle Vulcans who are the most dangerous ones of all - and, in most cases, the most fun.  <eg>

THE END