Child's Play
Follows "Monsieur Mere" in the "Attached" series. Data babysits the twins while Picard and Beverly celebrate their anniversary.
Rating:T
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to CBS, its parents and affiliates. Just taking the characters out for a jaunt around the galaxy, I warrant they will be returned in the same condition I borrowed them.
"Data, can we play a game?" asks Jean-Paul, his face plagued with boredom.
Crouching on the floor next to the sofa in the living area of his quarters, Data regards the five year-old passively. "I do not believe I have any games."
"You don't play games?" Jean-Paul asks incredulously.
"I play poker," supplies Data, recognizing that that is probably not a game the child was anticipating playing.
Giggling, Isabel, cross-legged, strokes Spot's back as the feline lays sprawled across the floor. "Mama packed toys, silly!"
"Ah, yes," recalls Data, jumping up to retrieve the tote bag that Beverly had left at the front when she had dropped off the twins at Data's cabin. "Your mother was prepared. She sent you with toys and extra clothes."
"Are we having a sleep-over?" Jean-Paul asks excitedly.
"No, Jean-Paul," relays Data, bringing the bag into the living area. "Your parents will pick you up later this evening."
"Mama and Papa are on a date!" giggles Isabel, petting Data's cat as Spot soaks in all of the attention.
"It is their wedding anniversary," elaborates Data, unpacking some of the toys from the bag for the children.
"How come Counselor Troi isn't babysitting us?" Jean-Paul asks, gathering some of his little plastic star ships.
Data removes the lid of a container of building blocks and deposits them on the ground. "Counselor Troi is on duty tonight."
"Can I have my tutu, please?" Isabel requests, extending her hand to Data. "I need to rehearse for my dance recital."
Raising a brow, Data sets aside the container of blocks and digs into the bag, locating a pink tutu.
"Your…tutu?" Data hands the five year-old girl the garment, pink ribbons clinging to the tutu.
"Help me, Mr. Data," requests Isabel, jumping to her feet. "outstretching her hand with the pink ribbons. "Can you put the ribbons in my hair?"
Pursing his lips, Data lowers himself to the ground, balancing on one knee as he accepts the proffered ribbon. "I am afraid I am not proficient in…hair styling."
Giggling, Isbael wraps the pink ribbon around Data's forehead. "Then you can wear the ribbons!"
Lips curling in a small smile, Data watches as Isabel attempts to tie the ribbon in his perfectly-trimmed short brown hair.
In a chorus of laughter, Isabel vainly tries to secure the ribbons in Data's hair, as Jean-Paul abandons his toy star ships, joining in the ruckus of laughter.
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"Thank you, my cherie. I love you more than anything. To the happiest seven years of my life. I can't wait to see what it's in store for the next seven." Clinking his wine glass gently against Beverly's, Jean-Luc leans forward on the sofa, one hand resting on her knee.
Rotating her glass in her hands, Beverly smirks, hidden mirth beneath her quiet grin. 'I'm glad you said that. I'd like to toast to our future."
Nodding, Jean-Luc connects their glasses again before taking a short sip from his own.
"Our future, two beautiful children, our unborn child…" Beverly trails off, catching Jean-Luc's gaze.
Eyes dilating, Jean-Luc stares at Beverly openly. "Unborn child?"
Beaming, Beverly nods, bringing a hand up to cover her now trembling lips. "Yes. Yes."
"You're…? We're…?" stutters Jean-Luc incredulously, abandoning his wine glass quickly on the table, fumbling for her hands.
"Yes," giggles Beverly nervously, leaning into him. "We're having a baby."
Jean-Luc grabs the wine glass out of her hand and carelessly deposits it on the table, reaching for her arms. "Wh…when….how?.Uh….Are you alright?"
Dropping her hands to his chest, Beverly nods reassuringly. "I know. It's crazy. I'm sorry, Jean-Luc. Please don't have a heart attack on me. I…It was totally unexpected. I had some precautionary diagnostics done after I treated those plague victims on the research colony. I wouldn't have even known if I hadn't ran tests. I'm only four weeks along."
Letting out a long breath, Jean-Luc runs his along her arms, pulling her closer. "Are you alright? The baby?"
"We're fine," Beverly assures him, pecking his lips.
Slipping his hands around her shoulders and down her back, Jean-Luc sighs. "Okay. That's all that matters."
Resting her forehead against his, Beverly meets his eyes. "Love, are you okay? It's okay. I was totally shocked."
Running his hands down her back, Jean-Luc inhales sharply, drawing the scent of her hair into his lungs. "I'm more than fine. I'm thrilled. Just need a moment to digest this."
Beverly slides her hands around his back, closing her eyes. "I know it's a lot. A baby. We were finally getting out of that. The twins are getting so big."
Dropping a kiss to her cheek, Jean-Luc closes his eyes briefly. "No. It's wonderful. I couldn't be more delighted."
Pressing her cheek to his, Beverly sighs in relief, grateful for her husband. While he is passionate and sometimes irritable, when it comes to their children, he has limitless patience. She had known he would welcome the news, cherishing the new life they would be bringing into the universe.
"I love you, I love our children, all of them. I couldn't have imagined a better anniversary," Jean-Luc chuckles lightly, dropping a kiss to her bottom lip.
Drawing back, Beverly smiles wickedly, raising a brow. "We've got some time before we need to relieve Data. Care to celebrate the good news?"
Springing to his feet, Jean-Luc, tugs Beverly with him, forgoing a verbal reply.
PAGE BREAK
Frowning uncomfortably, Data glances down at the short, small tutu secured tightly about his hips as Isabel stands on the sofa, adjusting the pink ribbon in his hair and Jean-Paul looks up at him, uncontrollably laughing. "And, this is humorous?"
Data had engaged the children in various activities throughout the evening, but Isabel had been set on dressing Data in her dance ensemble, including the pink tutu and matching hair ribbons. Unable to deny her request, Data had eventually conceded, allowing the child to put the costume on over top of his standard duty uniform, as well as play with his precisely-manicured hair. Data is nothing if not patient and tolerant, and the children seemed to be thrilled with his cooperation.
"Yes!" chuckles Jean-Paul, covering his mouth.
"Because, I am an not a female child?" Data seeks confirmation of his understanding of the joke as Isabel jumps down from the sofa to inspect her work.
"Data's a ballerina!" Jean-Luc spits, bursting into a fit of giggles, practically doubled-over in laugher.
Shrugging, Data smiles mechanically. "Well, I am proficient in many forms of classical dance."
Grinning, Isabel rests her hands on her hips, entirely satisfied having dressed Data in the tutu and interwoven the ribbon in his hair. "You look very pretty, Mr. Data. You're all ready for the dance recital."
Putting his hands on his hips, Data offers the little girl a conciliatory smile. "Perhaps your mother is a better instructor, Isabel. It would seem this costume on me would prove very…distracting."
Jean-Paul nods, looking at Data, in his standard uniform with the pink tutu on his hips and pink ribbon on his hips. "Can we take a holo photo? I wanna show Wes."
Just as Data is about to politely decline the child's request, the door chimes. Holding up his hand, Data beckons the caller. "I am afraid the game must come to an end."
Picard enters Data's cabin, followed closely by Beverly, Stopping in his tracks, Picard does a double take when he finds Data in the living area wearing Isabel's tutu and ribbons dangling from his head.
Covering her mouth, Beverly struggles to contain her laughter as Isabel rushes up to them.
"Look, Mama!" Isabel points to Data excitedly. "Mr. Data was helping me with my dance."
Laughing lightly, Beverly is unable to completely contain the smirk on her face. " I see that, sweetie."
Mouth agape, Jean-Luc strides toward Data. "What is going on here, Data?"
"Belle wanted to dress Data up like a ballerina, Papa," supplies Jean-Paul, desperately trying not to laugh as he reaches for his father.
Smiling innocently, Isabel takes Beverly's hand.
Shrugging, Data looks at Picard simply. "Doctor Picard instructed me to entertain them. I was merely following orders, sir."
Frowning, Picard turns to Beverly and Isabel, curling into her mother's side.
"Listen up, Cadet," Picard points to Isabel, staring at her sternly. "You don't play dress up with my senior officers, understood?"
Nodding demurely, Isabel clutches Beverly's shirt. "I'm sorry, Papa."
Turning back to Data, Picard sighs in exasperation. "Data, they're five years-old. You're the adult. You're in command."
Nodding his understanding, Data's head bobs and the ribbons begin to fall to the ground. "Yes, sir."
"And get that ridiculous thing off, would you?" Picard requests, rolling his eyes.
Almost smiling, Data reaches around his back to unclasp the garment.
"Isabel, apologize to Mr. Data," orders Picard, before turning to Jean-Paul. "And you , too, for encouraging this."
The children mumble soft apologies to Data as Data finishes removing the ribbon in his hair.
Urging Isabel forward, Beverly smiles encouragingly. "Come on, let's get this mess cleaned up. Let's thank Mr. Data for having so much fun with us tonight."
Brightening, Isabel walks over to the area on front of the sofa where their toys are scattered by the tote bag. "Thank you, Mr. Data. I had a really good time."
Data pads over to the area, where Beverly is helping the children pack their toys into the tote bag. "As did I."
Picard watches as the children help Beverly and Data tidy up the mess they had created in Data's quarters. Perhaps he had been too hasty to reprimand his small daughter, who had only wanted to play with Data. And, Data, for his part, had only been trying to make his daughter happy. He had just been upset to see his daughter carrying on that way with his crew. To him, it was disrespectful, and he didn't want to give his children the impression that it was acceptable behaviour. However, it appears that Data had not minded. "Data, thank you for watching the children tonight. I appreciate your help."
"You are welcome, Captain, " replies Data, a small smile across his lips. "I would be happy to babysit again, if you are in need."
Chuckling lightly, Beverly tosses Jean-Paul's little star ships into the bag. "Absolutely! Thank you, Data.
Turning to Isabel, Data tilts his head. "We have played your game, Isabel. Next time, we will play poker."
Pumping his fist, Jean-Paul grins mischievously. "Yes!"
"Next time, Troi babysits," retorts Picard, folding his arms across his chest.