After a song or two, during which he felt Leo relax a bit more, Data felt a tap on his shoulder.
"May I cut in, Mr. Data?"
Data stopped them in their endless circuit of the ballroom. Though he felt Leo tense up a bit he replied, "Of course, Captain," and stepped away as he discreetly pried Leo's reluctant hand from his.
"Do I get a vote?" she asked a bit edgily.
"The lady has full right of refusal, of course," Picard noted graciously.
Leo sighed. Data looked so encouraging, and the captain so contrite. Well, maybe "contrite" was too strong a word.
"Oh all right, then."
"I promise to return her none the worse for wear, Mr. Data, though I can't vouch for my own condition."
"I believe there are sufficient witnesses to render your safety guaranteed, sir." Data disappeared into the crowd.
Picard held out his hands to Leo as a waltz drifted down from wherever the music originated.
"Lieutenant?"
"I'll try not to stomp on your feet, sir, though I can't imagine why I shouldn't."
They danced smoothly for a few bars before Leo scolded, "You might have told me. I mean, it sounds like you were all talking about me like some bartered goods."
Picard spun them around, whirled her out in a pirouette and back again. "Why Lieutenant, I had no idea you'd developed such a flair for melodrama. Certain protocols must be followed under the circumstances, and the Daystrom team approached me regarding all affected personnel."
"Well I don't see you dancing with the other two," Leo retorted, determined not to let him off the hook.
"And not likely to," he acknowledged. Without missing a beat in rhythm or step he continued, "Lieutenant, you are a Starfleet officer and a member of my crew. I fail to see why this opportunity should be met with such petulance. I have given my highest recommendation to the Daystrom Institute with regard to your inclusion in the project. In fact, Lieutenant,"
As Leo cut him off Picard managed to miss the look in her eyes that Data had caught just moments earlier.
"I'm not on duty, I'm not even in uniform… please, can't you call me Leo? Can't I just be Leo, just for tonight?"
He brought them to a stop as the music ended and was about to lecture her further, but she interrupted again.
"Please, I know this is a brilliant opportunity, I know it's a great step forward… I know it's a chance to get involved in things I've never dreamed of being able to experience." she paused then, and looked around her, then back at the captain, who had dropped his hands and stepped back. "I know. But for here and now, can't I just be in the here and now, and ignore the grand march of progress and science, for a few hours anyway? What could it hurt for me just to be Leo, and stand still long enough to enjoy it?" She took a breath that sounded a little ragged. "It's been so long since I could just stand still. What could it hurt?" she repeated.
Picard smiled gently. "Nothing at all. But if you truly wanted to stand still you would have done so long ago, and stayed where you were. In a house in the woods in a life lived quietly. You chose otherwise. And more to the point, you chose Starfleet. It's a bit late to change course now, even if you wanted to. And knowing you as I do, I don't believe you do want to."
Leo stood silent, unable to look away from those eyes that by now saw everything there was to see in her, goddamnit. Picard's version of the "Forever Face" might be different than Data's, but was no less relentless.
"Trust you to bypass all my shields." She knew how right he was, but wasn't quite up to the standard they'd both set. Not at the moment, anyway. "Right, right, and always right. I chose this life, and I chose Starfleet, and I chose Data, and there's no excuse I can possibly manufacture that can be worth standing in his way, and Geordi's, given what we've been offered. Or even standing in my own way." But the sheer enormity of what likely lay ahead overwhelmed her again, and she fought back a wave of emotion that she knew was inappropriate for this time and place. And yet…
"But can't you spare me a Jean Luc moment or two? Just for a little while, can't we pretend to be friends and not Starfleet? I really could use that right now, even if it's not regulation." Leo braced herself for the same graceful disappointment he'd offered some time ago. Though she didn't know it, it showed on her face. "And besides," she added simply, "we promised."
Picard looked at her standing there in front of him, off duty and out of uniform, and rather than his reliable ally and steadfast officer he saw Leora Eileen O'Reilly as she was, apart from all that. The woman who'd put personal belief before all pretense and quite unintentionally had helped to shift the paradigm of the current social establishment, and he realized with some irony there was no Federation award for that. Here was the person who'd agreed voluntarily to become a human shield between a new commander and an untrusting crew when his life hung in the balance, and afterward was the one who'd discarded their mutually established limitations to speak her mind when he was in danger of losing himself, and told him it was "okay" not to have all the answers. She was the one who'd come to his quarters unbidden, and listened to his demons even though they both knew she was ill-equipped to deal with them. Almost always she was over her head, but right there where he needed her most because she'd promised, even when he could offer so little in return. He had little doubt that in the end she'd decide to step through that door that had been opened for her and Data and Geordi tonight. Indeed, what could it hurt to stand still with her on the one evening when everything she knew was poised to change so completely?
The music started up again, this time a slower rhapsody with no discernible rhythm, one of those new danceless-dance compositions that forgave every misstep. How appropriate.
Picard ignored everyone around them and firmly decided to hell with protocol.
"If you can forgive me for so abandoning my part of our bargain, Jean Luc would much desire the pleasure of this dance. And entirely without pretense."
Leo barely restrained herself from pressing her face into his shoulder. "Thank you, Jean Luc, you have no idea what this means to me."
"On the contrary, Leora Eileen," he assured her. "I know too well." He would have told her it meant as much to him, but could not.
"Understood," she told him quietly. "Always, understood."
