2285, Alpha Centauri Four

Peter had outright lied, and told Saavik that a surviving member of the corrupt Admiralty had been sighted. She would not have understood the truth.

Amanda had outright lied, and told Sarek that she needed a new pair of sandals from a specific shop. He would not have understood the truth.

Peter put down his folder.

"Is this right, Mother? We've done so much to deceive those we love best. All to satisfy this primal urge."

Amanda had far more experience in these matters, and so sought to calm him before they truly began. She smiled, though, to hear him use the honorific title of Mother.

"Peter, they are Vulcans. We are human. When this want strikes us, meditation doesn't help. Nor does thinking about the barbarism that once ran through this practice. We're here, now, as we both freely agreed to be, and we will both follow through on it. Understood?"

He smiled nervously.

"For her, I try so hard. But if she loves me as I am, then I guess this is a part of that. I confess, its been all I've thought of since you proposed running off together."

She took his hand.

"Are you ready?"

Hungrily, he nodded.

"Yes!"

They closed their folders, and turned to the young woman standing next to them. Each gave their precise requests, which she would do her utmost to see to.

"I'll have the London Broil. Medium Well."

"I'll have the Filet Mignon. Medium Rare."

For on Vulcan, it is known---there are no steakhouses.