a/n: I don't own it. But you knew that, right?

His finger hit the key to open the video feed from Dr. Shaw's room and David's mind swiftly splintered between analysis and response, his processors moving so quickly he could hardly tell which came first, his shifting perspective due to the new data or his system shutting down the jerking, sudden physical response his body had to what he saw.

He filed the response away to analyze later.

David's creators said he possessed a "99% emotional sensitivity level." They built him to read and categorize human emotions in order to assess appropriate responses to his human colleagues. Additionally, he was supposed to display emotional responses in order to make them feel more comfortable.

But emotions were such an inexact science. How do you quantify that which you cannot measure accurately? So many variations on the way humans expressed a vast variety of subtle feelings and sensations. All David could do was to observe data on available subjects, tabulate and reference each one separately. It was fortunate that he had practically unlimited memory.

The way the humans around him responded to identical stimulus differed so greatly. Thus, he had a "Peter Weyland" file, a "Meredith Vickers" file; really, a file for every human he encountered. Some files were richer in detail than others.

He was storing the current data in a few different areas. His "Elizabeth Shaw" file, his "Charles Holloway" file, his file on the experiment with the alien substance. This last was his highest priority, given that it was concerned with the orders he had been given by his creator. "Try harder." Explore every possibility related to Dr. Shaw's Engineers and the effect of their technology on humans.

Dr. Holloway was currently experiencing no visible ill effects from the substance David had put in his drink, to put it bluntly.

He had considered this possibility, that they were engaged in a sex act. There was no one around to observe him. No appropriate emotional display for him to adopt in response to the input. Yet he could feel his own face contort in a way that he was unsure of himself. Disgust? Confusion? Disappointment? Anger?

David's head filled with possible interpretations of what he saw on the small screen.

It was possible that Dr. Holloway was displaying aggression due to his alcohol consumption or in response to the alien substance. If he were forcing himself upon Dr. Shaw, David would have to find a way to interrupt without revealing his surveillance.

But just as he considered that plan, Dr. Shaw pulled off Dr. Holloway's shirt. Eagerly. Her face was flushed and her body moved in a way that indicated passion, not defense.

He abandoned that theory.

Dr. Shaw was kind. Perhaps she was merely comforting him after their shared disappointments on the planet? Sex was a biological act as well as an emotional one, he was given to understand. Her responses could be based less on her attachment than on physiological responses.

Possibilities. And a hypothesis he had no way of testing.

Dr. Holloway was pulling the voluminous white pajama bottoms off Elizabeth and David was torn between looking away and watching them.

Data. It was data, he reminded himself. Why would he watch her dreams without compunction but shy away from her encounters with her lover?

David felt tension in his face from a compression of his top and bottom jaw that he wasn't even aware of.

Similarly, his fingers were pressing into his palms. Interesting.

He opened up his palms and stared at where he had made four indents in the palm of his hand with the tips of his fingers. Then he stretched out his hand and switched the video feed off.

David got up and began to walk around the ship. It was quiet and he reflected back to just a few days ago when he had had Prometheus all to himself. It had been…fulfilling. Caring for his sleeping human charges like flowers in a garden, monitoring the ship's functions, learning, playing basketball, exercising. Watching Elizabeth's dreams. This last had been the only unpredictable part of his schedule but also the most enjoyable.

Sometimes her dreams were personal, biographical: she and her father, school, caves, churches. Other times they were fantastic: flying through the air without visible means, enjoying as a pet a huge, beautiful lion, conversations with giant men with wise faces and gentle words. Sometimes they were frightening: begging for mercy from cold-faced murderers or being lost, despairing or helpless.

Her dreams were like dessert for him, at the end of a long day of comforting and placid routine.

Now that the humans were awake he found that things were different. He was built to observe their behaviors and emotions and to respond. To learn from them, to change. But these changes were proving to be uncomfortable. Meredith Vickers' assault on him in the hallway outside her father's quarters, Dr. Holloway's rudeness to him, and now this conundrum with Dr. Shaw? Was this what his creators had intended?

He was the prototype. He was the first of his kind of an experimental design. Perhaps his creator had no idea what he would experience.

Is that why Mr. Weyland would say declare that he had no soul? Why they would insist that he had no feelings…when he clearly did?

David couldn't help but think of Dr. Shaw's mission, her life's work. Did her creators make humans without having any idea what they were capable of? Had they been set adrift like David, a vast experiment or, even worse, a commercial opportunity, without concern for what they would become, what they would experience?

And why did that possibility give him so much pleasure?

Pleasure. Dr. Shaw and Dr. Holloway. Their sexual congress.

David's postured stiffened and he turned down the corridor in the direction of the airlock.

He had another survey to the Engineer's outpost to prepare for. He had directions from Mr. Weyland. Everything else was distraction.

a/n: Again, I apologize for my sins grammatical and otherwise. I didn't respond to any "guest" reviews (even if there was a name) because that felt intrusive. I don't really have a firm grasp on "guest" vs. "anonymous" etiquette yet.

I had this moment of fear today when I read someone suggest that there was some whole sex scene between Vickers and David in the deleted scenes. That would ruin all of my shipping fantasies! Until we know more I'm just trying to fill in some blanks. But this will deviate from the movie in the future, just so you know.

Thank you for reading and reviewing!

xoxo

J