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“You…” her voice cracks, “you want to…” He nods. “With me?”
“Yes, adun’a,” Sarek says, and damn his Vulcan endearments and their ability to make her feel weak in the knees, “I would have no other.”
“Sarek…” Amanda brings a hand to his cheek, marveling in the way his breath catches and his pupils expand until his irises are almost black.
“Yes?”
“I want nothing more than to bond with you,” his eyes widen, and he smiles.
“I will inform T’Pau—” he’s as excited as she’s ever heard him, “would you rather have the ceremony on Earth, or on Vulcan? There are certain rituals which you, of course, need no—“
“And what happens when I tell someone else?” She asks softly. He blinks.
“Pardon?”
“What happens,” she trails two fingers along his jaw, and Sarek’s eyelids flutter, “when I tell someone else?” He stills.
“It will not present an issue.”
“Are you sure?” She knows how much care he puts into his image, his reputation. She will not be what disrupts that. Sarek nods. Covers her hand with his own in the gentlest of kisses.
“I am sure.”