Title: The Dancing Data
Pairings: D/C
Summary: Dr. Crusher and Data explore Data's creativity through dance.
Chapter: Title, Pages/Rating
Chapter 1: The Wedding,
"I present to you Chief and Mrs. O'Brien." Picard's words cued the quartermaster's staff to begin morphing the 10-Forward lounge from the configuration used for standing-only ceremonies to a banquet hall. Instead of distracting the guests as they congratulated the new couple, the quietly forming aisles created a subtle transition for those finished with their well-wishing.
Crusher took Data's hand and guided him to a certain table. "Doctor," Data began as they claimed their seats. "I take it you chose this table because of its proximity to the dance floor."
"You got me." Crusher adjusted the folds of her dress. Crusher had sworn off the Star Fleet dress uniform unless required until they came up with something that didn't look like a poorly-tailored version of the everyday uniform. The ruffles along the hips and legs of this green number made it festive enough to befit the occasion while the conservative fit avoided flaunting her non-conformance.
"I want to make sure your dance with the bride you just 'gave away' goes well." She'd cut her dance lesson with him short when Nurse Ogawa had gone into labor.
Worf and Riker appeared and sat across from Crusher and Data. Worf made a forced attempt at "polite:" small talk as he looked at the menu. "This occasion is a very nice hodgepodge."
Crusher smiled widely. Worf and Data shared a way of using words in a context that would be taken as negative by someone who did not realize that the faux pas testified of genuineness.
She glanced at the menu herself and saw what prompted his reference to the wedding's combination of Irish and Japanese traditions. The menu choices were-varied.
The waiters were already taking orders from seated guests. Data mirrored Crusher's selection of a seafood dish that was obviously Keiko's contribution to the menu. Worf and Riker each chose some of O'Brien's selections. Crusher was no stranger to heavy foods, but the list of fatty meats and gravies being recited wasn't the most appetizing thing to hear after this day's frenzies. At least the heavy French food Jean-Luc had introduced her to didn't rely on lard for flavoring.
Crusher decided she needed to shore her defenses in this battle of aromas. "Could I get a tropical fruit medley ala carte?" She asked the waiter before he could move on.
"Yes, ma'am," the waiter entered the selection into his key pad. "I'll bring it out with your entrée."
The meal continued at the same, quick pace. Crusher and Riker turned this occasion for small talk into a tutoring session for Worf and Data. Only such close and well-meaning friends could dissect one another's statements without it being awkward. Showing some prior savvy, Worf and Data knew not to introduce that afternoon's run-in with the Romulans into the small talk.
By the time the cake dishes were being cleared, the atmosphere in 10- Forward had transformed from well-wishing and small talk to champagne- fueled boister, with no shortage of glass tapping to demand the couple showcase a kiss. Toasts were made to the new couple, to Nurse Ogawa's addition to the ship's compliment, and to Keiko and Miles' duty to follow her lead ASAP.
Crusher delighted in witnessing Data's fascination as this boister, heavy with innuendo, continued. "Is it not customary to reserve sexual innuendo for occasions when children are not present?" Data indicated toward the head table. The bride's Vulcan matron was explaining a recent toast to her young twins who'd served as flower girl and ring bearer. Geordi, the best man, had been smirking at the contrast of the matter-of-fact explanation.
"What better occasion to break that custom?" Riker offered. "Celebration of bonding." Riker seemed to begin some contemplation, but he leapt to his feet before enough time passed for such a transition. "To hell with innuendo!" He bellowed, raising his champagne glass as the guests quickly focused their attention on the ship's thunderous first officer. "We are all here," his raised glass gestured a sweep over the heads of the guests, "to witness the marriage of our colleagues,. our friends," he jutted the glass toward Keiko and O'Brien. "This," he punctuated the word with a jar of his glass," is our duty!" As if to justify over-gesturing with his glass, he brought the champagne into his discussion of duty by taking a deliberate swig.
Disjointed, but enthusiastic echoes of "Our duty!" accompanied dramatic swigs from guests.
"In this way, we accept a new life into our midst, a life that was once two lives.
"We've spent a lot of effort since the Captain performed his duty, making sure you understand yours." Riker was walking to the middle of the dance floor to face Keiko and O'Brien at the head table. "Just so there's no confusion, I'll say it outright. Your duty, Miles and Keiko O'Brien, is to go straight form the conclusion of this gathering to your honeymoon suite and consummate this marriage." Riker quelled the swelling shouts of agreement by raising his empty hand. "I still need to be more clear. This consummation shall involve." Riker's pause left the guests in suspense, then surprise as he clinched his eyes shut, spun, and opened his eyes to see at who he was pointing.
Ensign Bon took his cue. "Sexual gratification!" he shouted to cheers of agreement. The guests now knowing what to expect, Riker continued spinning and pointing, even the shyest pointees offered something and the guests responded, sometimes at random, sometimes with unity.
"Copulation!" "To Copulation!" "To Copulation!"
"Recuperation!" "Traitor!" "Boo!"
"Resuscitation!" "Heaven Willing!" "Huh?" "To resuscitation!" "To resuscitation!"
"Impregnation!" "Here, here!" "Here, here!"-in perfect unison.
"Ja Ma Ha Ron!" "That's what I'm talking about!" "Go back to Risa!" "In a second!"
"Cunni." "Enough!" Riker cut the response short. "We've established a minimum. We'll make the rest optional." Riker was moving to the band platform. "Now that everyone's focused on our blushing couple, let's move to the first dance." Riker picked up his trombone.
As the trombone solo started, Data turned to Crusher. "I wait until the song ends. I then tap O'Brien on the shoulder."
"Time it so that you cut in as the song changes." She offered.
Crusher and Data discussed the symbolry behind the one who gave the bride away taking her back for one dance until Data decided it was time to make his way onto the floor.
Crusher was impressed with Data's casual stroll until he turned and she saw the most ridiculous smile on his face.
Thinking quickly, she signed in the Federation Standard sign language she'd often used in her medical duties. "Relax Smile. Smile with eyes." Although Data wasn't looking directly at her, he responded to her message as a Dee Jay took over for Riker.
"May I have this dance?" Crusher heard those familiar words in the Captain's voice.
"You most certainly may." Crusher proceeded to the floor with the Captain as she had on so many formal and some not-so-formal occasions.
As she danced in the Captain's familiar grasp, they caught up on the small talk of the day. Crusher-and she knew the Captain did, too-looked forward to these dances. They had a rapport that was so much deeper than friendship. Attraction was so much a part of that rapport that only years of unspoken fears of changing a long and fulfilling friendship kept them from acting on their carnal needs. The dances gave them a chance to connect on a physical level, with minimal risk of their encounter ending in an unplanned way.
Their small talk faded. It would be picked up again at their breakfast the next morning. For now, they basked in one another's touch. Chaste as it was, silence allowed them to fully experience their closeness.
Crusher felt Picard turn to face someone who'd just tapped his shoulder. It was Sevar, Dr. Selar's visiting cousin. Picard bowed subtlety and offered him Crusher's hand. Crusher felt a tug as Picard moved aside, his grasp lingering in hers being the cause. She gave has hand one last squeeze before completely disconnecting.
Sevar was an excellent dancer. He was one of those Vulcans who chose to participate in the traditions of the cultures with which they dealt. In Sevar's case, this had included offering his smooth baritone to a vocal solo Keiko had wanted in the ceremony.
"Your solo was enchanting," Dr. Crusher commented as they moved across the floor.
"Thank you," Sevar responded. "I find it pleasing when my voice training can be so useful."
Crusher smiled, and then felt a slight flush in her cheeks. She realized that being passed from such a tender moment with Jean-Luc to such an attractive figure as Sevar was affecting her. She had often admired the physique of Vulcan males. Seeing those slender hips framing such a fit ass on one side and a mysterious bulge on the other often prompted the thought: "What a waste" when she pondered Vulcan abstinence except in Pon Farr. Stories of the sexual prowess and passion of the fabled "corrupted Vulcans" only heightened the excitement of exaggerating her own frustration.
Crusher was aware that her dance partner could partially, possibly fully, sense her thoughts at this close proximity. A lifetime of frequent contact with Vulcans left her comfortable that a Vulcan would be no more concerned with such thoughts than by any of a number of emotions that flittered constantly through humans.
This reasoning brought to mind how "more of a waste than usual" applied to Sevar. He was slightly more filled out than a typical Vulcan and the darkness of his features made him an absolute Adonis.
Crusher thought she sensed Sevar's recognition of her label for him.
As the song ended, they thanked one another for the dance, Sevar giving a slight bow. Crusher returned to her seat and watched the couples moving across the floor.
She saw a masked look of disappointment in Jenna D'Sora's face as she returned to her seat next to Jeff Arton after being tapped out of a dance with Data. Data caught Crusher's eye over his current partner's shoulder and she could have sworn she caught a wink.
As the song ended and Data thanked his partner, he made his way toward Crusher. "Shall we finish our dance, Doctor?"
"With pleasure," she took his hand and they began their dance at the nearest edge of the floor.
You'll see this scene's purpose when I load the rest of it. Please review what I have up so far. Let me know if I ignore Keiko and O'Brien's reactions too much.
Future Chapters:
Straight Night at the 303 Club: Bounce, Bounce: I've finished this one. Once I load it, the rating will go up to NC-17.
Chapter 1: The Wedding,
"I present to you Chief and Mrs. O'Brien." Picard's words cued the quartermaster's staff to begin morphing the 10-Forward lounge from the configuration used for standing-only ceremonies to a banquet hall. Instead of distracting the guests as they congratulated the new couple, the quietly forming aisles created a subtle transition for those finished with their well-wishing.
Crusher took Data's hand and guided him to a certain table. "Doctor," Data began as they claimed their seats. "I take it you chose this table because of its proximity to the dance floor."
"You got me." Crusher adjusted the folds of her dress. Crusher had sworn off the Star Fleet dress uniform unless required until they came up with something that didn't look like a poorly-tailored version of the everyday uniform. The ruffles along the hips and legs of this green number made it festive enough to befit the occasion while the conservative fit avoided flaunting her non-conformance.
"I want to make sure your dance with the bride you just 'gave away' goes well." She'd cut her dance lesson with him short when Nurse Ogawa had gone into labor.
Worf and Riker appeared and sat across from Crusher and Data. Worf made a forced attempt at "polite:" small talk as he looked at the menu. "This occasion is a very nice hodgepodge."
Crusher smiled widely. Worf and Data shared a way of using words in a context that would be taken as negative by someone who did not realize that the faux pas testified of genuineness.
She glanced at the menu herself and saw what prompted his reference to the wedding's combination of Irish and Japanese traditions. The menu choices were-varied.
The waiters were already taking orders from seated guests. Data mirrored Crusher's selection of a seafood dish that was obviously Keiko's contribution to the menu. Worf and Riker each chose some of O'Brien's selections. Crusher was no stranger to heavy foods, but the list of fatty meats and gravies being recited wasn't the most appetizing thing to hear after this day's frenzies. At least the heavy French food Jean-Luc had introduced her to didn't rely on lard for flavoring.
Crusher decided she needed to shore her defenses in this battle of aromas. "Could I get a tropical fruit medley ala carte?" She asked the waiter before he could move on.
"Yes, ma'am," the waiter entered the selection into his key pad. "I'll bring it out with your entrée."
The meal continued at the same, quick pace. Crusher and Riker turned this occasion for small talk into a tutoring session for Worf and Data. Only such close and well-meaning friends could dissect one another's statements without it being awkward. Showing some prior savvy, Worf and Data knew not to introduce that afternoon's run-in with the Romulans into the small talk.
By the time the cake dishes were being cleared, the atmosphere in 10- Forward had transformed from well-wishing and small talk to champagne- fueled boister, with no shortage of glass tapping to demand the couple showcase a kiss. Toasts were made to the new couple, to Nurse Ogawa's addition to the ship's compliment, and to Keiko and Miles' duty to follow her lead ASAP.
Crusher delighted in witnessing Data's fascination as this boister, heavy with innuendo, continued. "Is it not customary to reserve sexual innuendo for occasions when children are not present?" Data indicated toward the head table. The bride's Vulcan matron was explaining a recent toast to her young twins who'd served as flower girl and ring bearer. Geordi, the best man, had been smirking at the contrast of the matter-of-fact explanation.
"What better occasion to break that custom?" Riker offered. "Celebration of bonding." Riker seemed to begin some contemplation, but he leapt to his feet before enough time passed for such a transition. "To hell with innuendo!" He bellowed, raising his champagne glass as the guests quickly focused their attention on the ship's thunderous first officer. "We are all here," his raised glass gestured a sweep over the heads of the guests, "to witness the marriage of our colleagues,. our friends," he jutted the glass toward Keiko and O'Brien. "This," he punctuated the word with a jar of his glass," is our duty!" As if to justify over-gesturing with his glass, he brought the champagne into his discussion of duty by taking a deliberate swig.
Disjointed, but enthusiastic echoes of "Our duty!" accompanied dramatic swigs from guests.
"In this way, we accept a new life into our midst, a life that was once two lives.
"We've spent a lot of effort since the Captain performed his duty, making sure you understand yours." Riker was walking to the middle of the dance floor to face Keiko and O'Brien at the head table. "Just so there's no confusion, I'll say it outright. Your duty, Miles and Keiko O'Brien, is to go straight form the conclusion of this gathering to your honeymoon suite and consummate this marriage." Riker quelled the swelling shouts of agreement by raising his empty hand. "I still need to be more clear. This consummation shall involve." Riker's pause left the guests in suspense, then surprise as he clinched his eyes shut, spun, and opened his eyes to see at who he was pointing.
Ensign Bon took his cue. "Sexual gratification!" he shouted to cheers of agreement. The guests now knowing what to expect, Riker continued spinning and pointing, even the shyest pointees offered something and the guests responded, sometimes at random, sometimes with unity.
"Copulation!" "To Copulation!" "To Copulation!"
"Recuperation!" "Traitor!" "Boo!"
"Resuscitation!" "Heaven Willing!" "Huh?" "To resuscitation!" "To resuscitation!"
"Impregnation!" "Here, here!" "Here, here!"-in perfect unison.
"Ja Ma Ha Ron!" "That's what I'm talking about!" "Go back to Risa!" "In a second!"
"Cunni." "Enough!" Riker cut the response short. "We've established a minimum. We'll make the rest optional." Riker was moving to the band platform. "Now that everyone's focused on our blushing couple, let's move to the first dance." Riker picked up his trombone.
As the trombone solo started, Data turned to Crusher. "I wait until the song ends. I then tap O'Brien on the shoulder."
"Time it so that you cut in as the song changes." She offered.
Crusher and Data discussed the symbolry behind the one who gave the bride away taking her back for one dance until Data decided it was time to make his way onto the floor.
Crusher was impressed with Data's casual stroll until he turned and she saw the most ridiculous smile on his face.
Thinking quickly, she signed in the Federation Standard sign language she'd often used in her medical duties. "Relax Smile. Smile with eyes." Although Data wasn't looking directly at her, he responded to her message as a Dee Jay took over for Riker.
"May I have this dance?" Crusher heard those familiar words in the Captain's voice.
"You most certainly may." Crusher proceeded to the floor with the Captain as she had on so many formal and some not-so-formal occasions.
As she danced in the Captain's familiar grasp, they caught up on the small talk of the day. Crusher-and she knew the Captain did, too-looked forward to these dances. They had a rapport that was so much deeper than friendship. Attraction was so much a part of that rapport that only years of unspoken fears of changing a long and fulfilling friendship kept them from acting on their carnal needs. The dances gave them a chance to connect on a physical level, with minimal risk of their encounter ending in an unplanned way.
Their small talk faded. It would be picked up again at their breakfast the next morning. For now, they basked in one another's touch. Chaste as it was, silence allowed them to fully experience their closeness.
Crusher felt Picard turn to face someone who'd just tapped his shoulder. It was Sevar, Dr. Selar's visiting cousin. Picard bowed subtlety and offered him Crusher's hand. Crusher felt a tug as Picard moved aside, his grasp lingering in hers being the cause. She gave has hand one last squeeze before completely disconnecting.
Sevar was an excellent dancer. He was one of those Vulcans who chose to participate in the traditions of the cultures with which they dealt. In Sevar's case, this had included offering his smooth baritone to a vocal solo Keiko had wanted in the ceremony.
"Your solo was enchanting," Dr. Crusher commented as they moved across the floor.
"Thank you," Sevar responded. "I find it pleasing when my voice training can be so useful."
Crusher smiled, and then felt a slight flush in her cheeks. She realized that being passed from such a tender moment with Jean-Luc to such an attractive figure as Sevar was affecting her. She had often admired the physique of Vulcan males. Seeing those slender hips framing such a fit ass on one side and a mysterious bulge on the other often prompted the thought: "What a waste" when she pondered Vulcan abstinence except in Pon Farr. Stories of the sexual prowess and passion of the fabled "corrupted Vulcans" only heightened the excitement of exaggerating her own frustration.
Crusher was aware that her dance partner could partially, possibly fully, sense her thoughts at this close proximity. A lifetime of frequent contact with Vulcans left her comfortable that a Vulcan would be no more concerned with such thoughts than by any of a number of emotions that flittered constantly through humans.
This reasoning brought to mind how "more of a waste than usual" applied to Sevar. He was slightly more filled out than a typical Vulcan and the darkness of his features made him an absolute Adonis.
Crusher thought she sensed Sevar's recognition of her label for him.
As the song ended, they thanked one another for the dance, Sevar giving a slight bow. Crusher returned to her seat and watched the couples moving across the floor.
She saw a masked look of disappointment in Jenna D'Sora's face as she returned to her seat next to Jeff Arton after being tapped out of a dance with Data. Data caught Crusher's eye over his current partner's shoulder and she could have sworn she caught a wink.
As the song ended and Data thanked his partner, he made his way toward Crusher. "Shall we finish our dance, Doctor?"
"With pleasure," she took his hand and they began their dance at the nearest edge of the floor.
You'll see this scene's purpose when I load the rest of it. Please review what I have up so far. Let me know if I ignore Keiko and O'Brien's reactions too much.
Future Chapters:
Straight Night at the 303 Club: Bounce, Bounce: I've finished this one. Once I load it, the rating will go up to NC-17.