Working Title: Full
Date: June 26, 2001
Summary: Winter in Shikahr. Set after "Joy Unspeakable"



*************

In her mind, she and Sarek were not yet married, for all that she carried his clothing from room to room in 
the low, damp house that kept them in San Francisco.  The walls pressed closed together, and were painted 
dark, but instead of directing the sun heat caught by the western bank of windows that opened over the bay 
into the home, reinforced the sense of claustrophobia that had been building within her since she'd 
exchanged vows with Sarek with her halting Vulcan.  She'd wanted her words to be perfect, in intonation 
and orthoepy.  


Skirts in the summertime, robes in the winter over trousers and tunics 
and blouses, what Sarek wore in San Francisco to keep warm - even in late spring. 

When they married, Amanda concerned herself primarily with Sarek's clothing. Gathering trousers, and 
tunics, robes and surcoats in her arms and carrying them from one room to another while deciding which 
outfits would be appropriate for him to wear in what conditions; but really - imagining which room would 
be hers and which would be his, or if the one they currently shared would continue to be theirs.  Never 
having felt materials like the smoke, sage and heather dyed ones rustling in her arms, she stroked and 
petted them as if they were Sarek's very skin.  She'd never felt materials like those before - sheer wools 
and thick almost linens.  Plant fibers, mostly, with vegetable sheens, delicate and easily bruised.  Quilted 
panels dented so easily, she had not managed the trick of wearing a surcoat without crushing the diamonds 
of padded cloth beyond hope.  Sarek smelled like . . .  nothing on Earth.  Her synthetic gowns and suits 
were patterened with a symphony of floating color.  You are imitating the gardens again, Sarek would tell 
her on rainy days when she sat at his desk in his office, and she sat at the small table that served as hers.  
She liked the closeness, in those days, though she shared an office with the translators on the grounds.  The 
rain would pour down the diamond panes of the window.  She would stare through the windows at the 
drenched gardens.  Sarek would gaze at her.  He said, `gardens in the rain,' the expression on his handsome 
face softening into loveliness.  `There is no greater beauty.'

He appreciated the rain but not the chill.  His robes collected water and the hems of his trousers were ever 
wet making his feet cold.  He did not complain, but he held her to him most often on Earth.  There, even 
her little warmth was a welcome addition, for all that it was not logical that though shivering, her relative 
coolness made him more comfortable.