#day to day life on starbase

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Not what I expected

Human Security officer: First day on the job?

Alien Trainee: Yeah, bit nervous.

Human Security officer: Don’t be.

Human Security officer: Sure we see a bunch of strange things here on the station, but working security isn’t so bad.

*Over the radio*: Hey Sarge, it’s happening again.

Human Security officer: Gods damnit.

*Answers radio*

Human Security officer: Where are they this time?

*Over radio*: Deck three.

Human Security officer: *to Trainee* Right, I got to go handle this so you might as well come along to. ----------------------

*Several decks later*

Human Security officer: Now whatever happens, I need you to be calm.

Alien Trainee: Saying that makes me less calm.

Human Security officer: Just shut the hell up then and watch.

*turns corner and sees gathering of people. Many of them look like miners who had just returned from outer system asteroid mining*

Alien Trainee: *Looks confused as to what they are all looking at until they tilt their head up and see a monstrous being of pink flesh and tentacles clogging up one of the hallways leading to the docking bay*

*The creature is easily three to four times the size of any of the gathered humans and ooze drips from its tentacles*

Alien Trainee: *Begins to panic and rest their hand on their sidearm holster before realizing they haven’t been issued a weapon yet*

Alien Trainee: *Turns to look at human sarge only to find him casually walking towards the monster*

*Only now does the trainee realize that none of the humans appear to be panicking or freaking out*

*Crowd parts to let the human sarge stand before the creature that now turns its full attention to the security officer*

Human Security officer: Marvin?

Human Security officer: Marvin you need to go back home.

*Creature lets out a loud gurgling noise from beneath its tentacles that sends shivers down the alien trainee’s spines*

Human Security officer: Marvin! I know you don’t like it when your friends leave but they need to go back to work.

*More loud grumbling and the creature retreats further into the tunnel, fully blocking passage*

Human Security officer: MARVIN! Get out of the tunnel!

*Softer gurgling but the creature only uses their tentacles to cover their eyes*

Human Security officer: Marvin I can still see you; covering your eyes does nothing.

*No response*

Human Security officer: Marvin. Maaaaaaaaarvin. MARVIN!

*Still no response*

Human Security officer: *Sighs loudly*

Human Security officer: *Points to random worker* Where’s Mitch? Why isn’t he here dealing with this?

Human Miner: He got offered double shifts on the belt and took it for the extra money.

Human Security officer: Of course he did.

Alien Trainee: *Finally working courage up to speak* Who is this “Mitch”?

Human Security officer: *Turns remembering that the trainee was there* Ah, right; he’s Marvin’s owner and the only one he’ll listen to.

Alien Trainee: Is this, Marvin, a sentient being?

Human Security officer: More like a pet Mitch found a few years back and took with him.

Human Security officer: Don’t think he counted it on being the size of a bus.

*Sees Alien Trainee looking nervous*

Human Security officer: Don’t worry; despite his size Marvin’s a goofball with a heart of gold.

Alien Trainee: Can we not just stun it and drag it out of the way then?

*All humans nearby stop and look at Alien trainee, anger and shock on their faces*

Human Miner: Is that some sort of fucked up joke?

Human Miner 2: Yeah!

Human Miner 3: You heard Marvin has a heart of gold and you just want to stun it? What kind of monster are you?

*Loud rowdy humans increase in volume before Human Security officer waves them down*

Human Security officer: It’s his first day, go easy on him.

*Rowdiness decreases in volume but the humans still look upset*

Human Security officer: *Whispers* You can’t just go around saying you want to stun someone’s pet.

Alien Trainee: *Looks more confused*

Human Security officer: *Turns to miners* Alright, go through duct C90 and you should be able to get around him.

Human Miner: Fine, but so help us if Marvin’s still in that tunnel when we get back.

Human Security officer: What the hell are you arguing with me over that? Get Mitch to bring his ass back here so Marvin will calm down!

*Conversation devolves into argument as human miners begin pulling off a grill plate and shimmying through a duct around Marvin* (AI image provided by @myecandy )

#humans are insane #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #funny #alien pet #adorable #day to day life on starbase #ai generated art #cute

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Gray 2

First / Previous / Next

"Next!"

The voice called out gruffly, and the line shuffled forward another step. Little by little, bit by bit, the line moved though customs as people tried to get into the station. Finally, they came upon a human, average height for the species, with dirty blond hair cropped short on the top of their head, wearing careworn clothes. He was carrying a large bag over his shoulder, and set it down as he approached the counter.

"Name." It was not a question.

"Gord Beaverbrook."

"Planet of origin?" The agent was bored and only half paying attention as they scanned the human's passport card.

"Earth."

At that, they looked up sharply. "Lying to an immigration officer comes with immediate expulsion. I must have misheard you. Planet of origin?"

The human's eyes widened slightly. The immigration officer - a Tylan - didn't notice the subtle change in body language. "Oh uh, my mistake. Orbital High Parvati."

They looked down at the passport card and grunted. "Colony Worlds eh? Leaving like the rest?"

"Something like that, yes."

One of their eyes flicked up to the human and stared just a moment longer than was comfortable. "Final destination?"

"Wait friend, is that required? Last time I came through, they just wanted to know where I came from and how long I was in town, not where I was going." The human looked back at the line and smiled - with his mouth shut - apologetically.

"Sapient, that has been the requirement the entire time I have worked here. If you are unwilling to divulge-"

"No no, it's fine. I've held up the line enough." He sighed. "My final destination is Lemilar Station."

"Lemilar? You're at least ten Gates away from Lemilar."

"Yeah, I have to ride the circuit. Can't afford to Flip over, and it's not like anyone is running a Flash. Transiting the Gates is the most affordable way to travel."

The terminal chirruped and the agent grumbled as they handed back the passport. "Damn refugees. Clogging up the place." They looked up at the human. "Forty third level is where the rest of the human and K'laxi refugees are if you want to see more of your kind." They looked past the man. "Next!"

Gord shouldered his bag, and walked past customs and into the promenade. It was wide and long, with shops on either side, and room for tables to be set out so that people could people watch. It was the same as any of a thousand orbitals, stations, and starbases he had been to in his long life. Sapients milled about, living their lives, going to work, meeting friends and living.

The thing that stuck out for Gord was the lack of humans. This station was far, far from the settled Colony Worlds and humans were rare here. He was used to being in the majority, even if he wasn't - technically - a human. These days one kept that kind of thing to themselves. Bouncing the pack to redistribute the weight, he started walking across the promenade, to look for the way up to the forty third level.

"Hey! Ape!" A Gren called out to Gord while was walking by. Gord didn't stop.

"I was talking to you, ape!" The Gren stood up from his seat at a restaurant, and approached Gord. Behind him two other Gren looked nervously at their friend, but didn't stop him.

Gord shrugged his pack off his shoulders and put his hand on it. Meeting the gaze of the Gren he sighed. "Yes, friend? What can old Gord do for you today?"

"That's an odd accent you have, Ape. You just learn Levinen?"

"No, I learned it a while ago, but I was taught by a Ivarr with a lisp."

At that, the two Gren behind the bully chuckled. Ivarr are insectoid species, they all speak with a slight lisp.

"Oh, a comedian. I see how it is." The bully turned back to his friends. "I mean, getting chased out of your own systems is pretty funny, so I do have to give you that." He tipped his head back and roared laughter, his mouthparts waggling along.

"All right then, I'll be on my way." Gord bent to pick up his bag.

"No, ape. You won't" The Gren put a large hand on Gord's bag. "You see, new arrivals have to pay an... administrative fee to get up to forty three. One hundred Stars."

Gord raised an eyebrow. "You know, if you hadn't been greedy, I probably would have just paid your extortion money." He looked around the large Gren at his two friends. "Thirty Stars? Would have paid it without any question. Even Fifty I would have grumbled, but paid so as to not cause trouble. But, one hundred stars? That's just too much."

The two Gren looked at each other for a moment. "Hey Tam, maybe the humie is right. One hundred seems like a lot to ask. Most of them are coming with the clothes they are wearing and that's it."

Tam turned back and raised a hand like he was going to cuff the Gren. Quit taking his side! I'm in charge here, I do what I want." He turned back to Gord. "One hundred Stars."

"Friend, I don't have one hundred Stars."

"Then you can't pass." Tam crossed his upper and lower arms. and glared at Gord.

"You see Tam - it's Tam? - You see Tam, that's a problem. I'm trying to get up to forty three where the other humans are, so that I can get my bearings and maybe work a bit so that I can buy passage through the next few gates. If you prevent me from doing that, then I'll be stuck here."

Tam took another step towards Gord. "One. Hundred. Stars."

Gord made a show of reaching for his wallet. "Look, I have Fifty on me - I was going to find a cot and get a bite, but that can wait-"

"Oh, you're going to pay, one way or another!" Tam roared, and his larger lower arms swung at Gord.

Faster than anyone thought possible, Gord had shuffled to the side of Tam, and the punches went wide. "Tam, really. I would wish you'd see reason and not do thi-" He ducked again as Tam wheeled around and tried to kick him with his strong, reverse articulated legs.

While Gord danced and ducked around Tam, he looked back at the two other Gren. "Look. I don't want trouble, fellas. Can I give you like ten Stars - just so you can say you shook me down - and I come back in a few demi cycles with a few more?"

The two other Gren's eyes were locked on Gord. They noticed how he was dodging every attack without seemingly putting any effort into it. "Uh Tam, maybe we should take the humie up on his offer. Do ya see how he's dodging you?"

"He's just getting lucky!" Tam was starting to breathe heavily as his swings got wilder and wilder. Gren had immense strength, but only in short bursts. They had almost no stamina. Finally all four of Tam's arms tried to roundhouse punch Gord. he side-stepped them and Tam spun around once and fell over, gasping.

Gord walked over and picked up his pack. "Uh, I'm just going to uh, go." He said to the other Gren. "Give Tam my regards, and I'll see you around eh?" Gord continued on down the promenade.

The rest of the walk he was very deliberately ignored. He found the lifts and went up to the forty third level. Here, if one squinted, one could think they were back in the Colony Worlds. Maybe Hyacinth, or Picaresque, or one of the other smaller starbases. Humans and K'laxi were around, in numbers Gord expected. He took one loop around the refugee level to get a feel for it, and sat down at a table outside an all-day breakfast place.

A busy K'laxi saw him, and waved. After a moment they approached. "Sorry! It's been a busy afternoon. My name is Ma-Ren, and I'll be your server today! What can I get you?"

Gord looked at the K'laxi and seemed to get lost for a moment. She was a spitting image. Ma-Ren's ears flicked nervously at the stare.

"Sir? Do you need another minute?"

"Oh! Sorry. I didn't mean to stare. It's just been a while since I've been somewhere with so many K'laxi. It feels like home. I'll uh, have the pancakes. Do you have any maple syrup?"

Ma-ren laughed. "My mother talked about maple syrup and how good it was. Something like that was probably left in the Colony Worlds. No, here you get regular sucrose syrup."

"Oh, okay, that'll be fine. Any chance of some coffee?"

"Sure thing. I'll bring you a cup now, while I put in the order for the pancakes?"

"That would be lovely, thank you." For the first time in months, Gord smiled widely.

#humans are deathworlders #sci fi writing #writing #humans and aliens #jpitha #humans are space orcs #humans and ai #humans are space oddities #Between the black and gray

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

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[tough-girl9]

Mother Knows Best (Data x Female Reader)

Mechanical Rose Series Part 5

Mechanical Rose Series Part 1: First Base

Mechanical Rose Series Part 2: Android Mine

Mechanical Rose Series Part 3: Exobiology

Mechanical Rose Series Part 4: Make Us Stronger

Mechanical Rose Series Prequel One-shot: Crush

Summary: When Data informed you that he wants you to meet someone, you weren't expecting to be introduced to your android boyfriend's mother. But the conversation with Juliana Tainer that follows gives you just what you need to reach out to Data and take the next step with your handsome android...

Rated: M

Also posted on AO3

-------------------------------------------------

You lean back and sigh deeply, cradling a cobolt-blue cocktail in one hand and savoring the glow of warm sunlight over your bare legs and shoulders. Taking a sip, you close your eyes, resting your head back on the fluffy pillow plumped between your neck and the wicker lounge chair, and bask in the peace and relaxation.

You've been overdue for some time off for a couple months, but the mapping of the Voris Nebula took longer than expected and you knew you wouldn't properly enjoy your time off if you left in the middle of a major expedition. But now, knowing you won't be missed for several weeks as the Enterprise restocks for its next mission at Starbase 45, you can let yourself unwind and let down your proverbial hair.

A slight breeze brushes over you, ruffling your hair, and stirs the palm trees above you, making a gentle hish sound that mingles with the soft lapping of the water on the nearby beach. Your cabin is situated right on the edge of the sand, with a wide porch and a retractable awning, which at the moment is fully drawn back, allowing the sunlight to pour fully over your body.

In short, it's paradise.

Well, almost anyway.

You've heard all the stories about Risa – it's the most popular shore leave destination for Starfleet officers, after all – and you have to admit that they were (mostly) unexaggerated. Pristine weather, gorgeous views, luxury cabins, endless cocktails and hors d'oeuvres, everything from spas and saunas for the less adventurous to spelunking and rock climbing for those with a more thrill-seeking streak. It's opulence incarnate.

But you have to admit, for your first-time visit to the infamous pleasure planet, it's also a little disconcerting. It's just a little too perfect, with the artificial weather, attractive, scantily-clad Risian attendants, and the overwhelming abundance of tourist attractions clamoring for the attention of all five senses. It's the absolute picture of a tourist trap, and while you can't say you regret letting your coworkers talk you into taking your shore leave here once they'd discovered that you'd never been, you're also looking forward to returning to the Enterprise tomorrow and resuming your normal and less glamorous life.

But even more than that, you're looking forward to seeing your boyfriend again.

You both had been planning to take your shore leave at the same time and enjoy two weeks on Risa together, but at the last minute, word from Starfleet had come about a sudden increase in geological instability on Oran Zeta III, and as the head science officer, Data had been assigned to researching an emergency solution. You'd considered postponing your own shore leave, but Data had insisted that you go ahead with your vacation. "Darling, you have been working hard the last two months and have been increasingly exhibiting signs of stress and overt tiredness. Current research suggests that for optimum health, humans should take an extended time of relaxation at least once every quarter of a year, and your last shore leave was twenty-four weeks, five days ago. It will be at least several weeks to a month before I am available to join you, and I do not wish for you to undergo continued stress while waiting for me."

As usual, you knew he was right. And even though you'd been deeply looking forward to the time with him, you went ahead and took your scheduled leave by yourself.

But as relaxing and pleasurable as your time here has been, you find yourself longing for his touch again more than anything that Risa can offer you.

Given the nature of the planet, it's hard not to find yourself constantly reminded of him. The Risians are famously open about sexuality, and reminders of romance are everywhere, from the numerous couples – many of whom are openly and constantly in some stage of making out – to the inescapable symbol of the horga'hn that appears everywhere from the huge statue in the visitor center to the embroidery on one corner of your cabin's bedsheets. Although you have not been propositioned for jamaharon yourself, it's influence on the tropical paradise cannot be understated. Everything seems to remind you that your own lover is thousands of light years away.

In fact, there are three couples openly making out down on the beach at this very moment. The human man and Risian woman closest to you giggle to each other in between their passionate, open-mouthed kisses. Both individuals are unclad from the waist up and the man is fondling the woman, much to her enjoyment it would seem from the moans interspersed between the giggles. You catch only a glimpse of them before politely looking away; even here, it's still considered impolite to stare. But you can't help but imagine yourself and Data in that couple's place. You shiver involuntarily as you imagine your android on top of you, pressing you down into the soft sand, hands and lips doing wonderful things to your body…

Since your encounter with Lore two months ago, you and Data have been taking things extra slowly and since that night when he showed you his activation switch, you haven't really progressed further in your relationship. But then, you also haven't seen nearly as much of each other. You've had steady back-to-back missions the last few months and you've been busy and Data's been even busier. Lately, it's seemed like you're lucky to catch a few private minutes together, let alone anything more.

But these two weeks of rest and time to unwind from your busy schedule have given your imagination plenty of time to go to work, and being completely away from Data for the first time since you began dating has only added fuel to your fire. And thoughts of taking a new step with your boyfriend are becoming more appealing by the hour.

Your final afternoon on Risa draws on, and you go down to the resort center to find some food. It's a large court, rimmed by a colonnade opening out onto the beach, filled with different food vendors and other merchants selling knickknacks and souvenirs. You get a dish of shor'tan, a local street favorite that consists of dried and seasoned fruit and nuts topped with a sweet caramel-like glaze. You munch on the treat while you do your final round of souvenir shopping. You pick up a miniature snow globe of the Granite Falls of Borthanin for your best friend and a dabaru board for your neighbor in the room across the hallway from you who is always hosting all deck game nights. One by one, you pick out something for each person for whom you'd made a mental note to bring something back.

At last, there's only one person left on your list, but you find yourself stumped.

You know Data would be happy with whatever you bring back to him and he'd be delighted simply that it came from you, but you still feel the urge to find that special something that's just right. But what…?

You wander in and out of the vendor stalls. Colors, glitter, scents, and sounds assail you from every side: everything from racks of moving digital postcards to scarves embroidered with crystals from the Hordak Caverns and so much more. After about an hour of browsing, you stop by one stall that specializes in pet accessories and pick out a cute collar for Spot. But still nothing jumps out at you as a candidate for what to bring back for Data.

Another vendor several rows down from the pet stall catches your eye. There are many intricate, beautiful pieces of jewelry on display in the front: necklaces, bracelets, ear cuffs, circlets. You admire the offerings then step inside, your eyes scanning up and down over the wide variety of glittering items as you make your way towards the back. And suddenly, one piece in particular seems to jump dramatically out at you from all the surrounding pieces, and you feel your breath catch a little in your throat. A second later, you realize fully what it is, and heat springs into your cheeks as an illicit image blazes vividly across your mental eye.

Still blushing, you move on, but you can't shake that mental image seared into your mind nor the powerful feelings it arouses. True, such a gift would be just as much for you as it would be for Data, but you feel certain that Data would like that: a gift for both of you to share together. He's been so patient and gentle with you during these difficult past few months, and you know he'd never push you before you were ready, but you suspect that few things would mean more to him than you taking the initiative to show him that you want to go further with him.

Before you can second guess yourself again, you return to the display and claim the prize for your own.

TWO WEEKS LATER

February 2, 2372

"Hello? Y/N? Anyone at home in there?"

You jerk out of your distant thoughts in a daze. "Huh? What?"

Vadra gives you a knowing smirk. "I think you've already answered my question."

You blink. "What…what was the question?"

"I asked if you were looking forward to tonight. And from the fact that your head is clearly too full of hot android to even notice that your scan finished three minutes ago, I'd say the answer is a big yes."

You blush. "Who says I'm thinking of hot android?"

Vadra's eyebrows rise an impossible notch higher. "Well, I've never seen you go goo-goo eyed over level two diagnostic scans, but then again, there's a first time for everything."

"Oh shut up," you say with no malice.

Your Bajoran best friend and fellow exobiologist laughs. "So, what particular aspect of android hotness has you mesmerized today? His eyes? His blinkies? His shoulder-to-hips ratio? His-"

"Oh, look!" You snatch the tricorder out of Vadra's hand. "The preliminary scans are showing positive readings. Looks like we're going to need more samples."

Vadra leans against the table beside the computer station. "So, he told you there's someone he wants you to meet tonight? Any idea who it might be?"

You shrug as you input the sample data to run another diagnostic scan. "No idea. He's told me he never really had friends before serving on the Enterprise. I know he corresponds a lot with Commander Maddox, but I don't think their relationship is a get-invited-to-a-birthday-party type of relationship. And – I don't know – I got the feeling he was excited. I can't imagine who he'd be excited to introduce me to."

"Well, I guess you'll find out in just over an hour," Vadra responds. She looks at the computer as you start the scan then gives you a pointed look. "It'll be several hours before the scan finishes, and it'll still be there in the morning. Nobody's going to notice if you slip away from your shift fifteen minutes early. It's not like you're mentally here anyway."

You give your teasing friend a mock glare, but you do head over to your work station to neatly put away your tricorder and other tools and lock up the extra samples. You glance back over at Vadra, who makes a shooing motion with one hand. You shake your head at her, but gratefully head out all the same.

Back at your quarters, you strip off your uniform and dump it in the cleaning processor, then stand for a full ten minutes in front of your dresser trying to decide what to wear for tonight's festivities. You want to look nice, but you don't want to appear to formal or stuffy either. In the end, you opt for a one-shouldered asymmetrical blouse and knee-length skirt: simple and comfy, casual enough for a party, but also with a hint of playfulness that you hope will help should this evening start going in the direction that you hope it does.

Feeling satisfied, though still mulling over the curious puzzle of Data's cryptic words about introducing you to someone, you set off to Ten Forward.

There's already a sizable crowd gathered, mostly milling around by the bar, and happy chatter permeates the air. Several tables have been reconfigured to form a buffet line, which ends with a towering, three-tiered cake covered in candles. A stack of colorfully-wrapped presents teeters in one corner and a huge Enterprise piñata swings from one of the light fixtures. A large colorful banner over the bar reads HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

You spot your boyfriend almost immediately, in the center of the room with Commander Riker and Geordi. Even though he's dressed in his habitual gold uniform, to your eyes he's still the most handsome and most dashing man in the room. Immediately, your heart flutters and you head straight to him.

He sees you coming, and his face lights up with that sweet smile of his that makes your heart do backflips. He steps towards you away from his friends and holds out his arms for you. You happily embrace him, squeezing him tightly. "Happy birthday, sweetheart," you murmur against his cheek.

"I am happy you could make it, darling," he responds sincerely, and you notice that he doesn't dismiss his emotion with technobabble excuses.

You glide your fingers up his collar and throat and twine them into his hair. "I wouldn't have missed it for anything. I've been thinking about it, and you, all day." You lean forward and press your lips softly to his, and he wraps his arms tenderly around your waist and lifts you off the floor easily as he kisses you back.

"Data!"

Your blissful moment is interrupted by the sound of a female voice from behind you, a voice which you notice sounds utterly delighted. Suddenly embarrassed, you jerk away from Data as he sets you back down, and you both turn around.

A petite woman is standing several paces away from the two of you, holding a champaign glass in both hands. It's hard to tell her age; her up-done hair is silvery white, but there's an ethereal, ageless beauty to her and an unmistakable sparkle in her blue eyes. Right now, she's looking at both of you with the world's biggest, brightest smile, pure, unfiltered delight radiating off of her.

She comes to stand beside Data, slipping one arm around his back and handing him her extra glass. As she does so, you can feel the intense scrutiny of her examination of you, even after you drop your gaze, trying to staunch your fierce blush. "Data," the woman repeats, the glee only slightly lessened, "Data, you didn't tell me you'd found a girl!"

"I apologize for the omission," Data says, and maybe it's your imagination but you think he sounds just slightly flustered. "I had thought to maintain the information as a secret and thus make it 'a surprise' when I was next able to visit you or vice versa. If I was in error-"

"Oh, not an error, but definitely a surprise," the woman beams. She pats the middle of his chest firmly. "Well, are you going to introduce me or not?"

"Of course," Data responds calmly. His fingers curl delicately around yours. "This is Lt. Y/N, one of our exobiology department leaders and…and my girlfriend." He pauses, then squeezes your hand gently. "Y/N, I would like to introduce you to Juliana Tainer…my mother."

You choke a little. His mother. You knew Data had a mother – he'd explained his somewhat complicated family history to you – and you knew he still contacted her regularly and occasionally took his shore leave to visit her, but there's still something thoroughly strange at the thought of being introduced to your android boyfriend's mother all the same. What if she doesn't like you or doesn't agree that you're the right match for her son? What does she think of her son dating a human? What sort of person would Data's mother be to begin with?

"I'm sorry, dear, I would have gotten you a glass as well," Juliana says, "but it appears my son was being deliberately secretive about you." She pats his back fondly, then puts a slender hand on your forearm. "But I am very much looking forward to meeting the woman who managed to catch my boy's eye at last."

For the moment however, you are spared the ordeal of being interrogated by your boyfriend's mother as the sound of loud glass chiming fills the room. Everyone looks to the front of the room, where Commander Riker and Geordi have taken the floor, the former with a champaign class which he taps to give another resounding ring. The merry buzz of conversation fades as everyone turns their attention to the two senior officers.

"I'd like to thank you all for joining us for this special celebration," Riker says. "When I learned just a few weeks ago that a very important and dear member of our bridge crew had never gotten the experience of a human birthday party, well, I knew that was going to have to change. Data." He turns and addresses the android who is standing by and listening quietly. "I've had the honor of knowing you and serving alongside you for nearly seven years, and I'm truly grateful to have the even greater honor of being your friend. So, Data, can you explain to me how the hell I missed all these years not realizing the travesty that you'd never had a good, old-fashioned Terran birthday party?" There's good-natured laughter throughout the room and Data's lips quirk in that smile that means he's slightly confused but happy to go along with it. Riker tips his head fondly in Data's direction, grinning wildly. "Data, my friend, I can only hope this evening brings you one step closer to humanity, because I don't know anyone who deserves it more than you."

There are cheers of "here, here!" and "Data!" and a round of applause. Data looks around, his neck moving with that curious clicking precision, golden eyes wide and childlike.

Geordi allows the cheers and applause to die down before he raises his own glass. He looks at Data and shakes his head, chuckling fondly. "Data," he says, and Data's gaze softens almost imperceptibly. "Oh, Data. We've been through a lot, haven't we, my friend? Well, I can't tell you how glad I am to add celebrating your birthday to that list." He shakes his head again. "I still remember the first day we met, not like I could ever forget it. At first, I was amazed by the technology – that I was talking to the world's first and only sentient android – but that quickly paled in comparison to getting to know the person you are. Bright, curious, endlessly fascinated by every detail of the world around you, seeing things exactly as they are but at the same time always hopeful and optimistic. The real irony is that as I've watched you wanting to become more human, you've helped all of us become more human every step of the way. To you and a happy thirty-fourth birthday, my dear fellow Perceiver."

Geordi and Riker tip their glasses back and drink, and amidst cheers everyone else in the room, Data included, drinks down the toast. You can't help the warm budding in your chest as you down your own drink, which you snagged from the bar during the toast. Seeing how loved Data is by all his friends and fellow crewmembers fills you with joy for him.

It's like going back to your childhood. It's the quintessential Terran birthday party, from the swinging Enterprise piñata to the handmade cards and pile of presents. Everyone raucously sings happy birthday as Data blows out all thirty-four candles in one easy go. Slices of cake get passed around the room along with more synthehol and punch, and one of the Enterprise's many music ensembles begins playing upbeat tunes that encourage many of the partiers to take to the main floor to dance.

Data is thoroughly swamped by well-wishers and you can't begrudge them for it. You'll have plenty of time to him for yourself later…or so you hope. You take a seat with a slice of birthday cake and a glass of fizzy punch.

"This seat isn't taken, I hope."

You look up to find Juliana Tainer standing opposite you, her hand resting on the chair across the table from you. In her other hand, she's holding a glass of tulaberry wine. You self-consciously brush your hair back behind your ear. "Oh, er, no, it's not."

"Wonderful!" Juliana makes herself at home on the chair. She sets her glass in front of her, then looks around the room with a contented sigh. "I'm so very glad I was able to make it here for the party. It's truly wonderful seeing how many friends he's been able to make." She looks back at you, beaming. "Speaking of which, how did my son meet you? I want details."

You tell her the story, as plain as it is, how the two of you had been coworkers for years, silently crushing on each other until Data finally made the move to ask you out, but Juliana acts as if it's the world's most fascinating epic. "Oh, I'm so, so glad," she gushes as you finish. "I always knew when the time was right that he'd meet someone. He's such a sweet boy and a romantic at heart, just like his father. He's been longing for romantic companionship for a while, oh, not that he'd ever say it, but a mother knows."

She leans in conspiratorially. "Just between you and me, it's about time he put his sexual programming to good use. Lord only knows his father spent enough time writing it for him!" You blush furiously and quickly lift your glass, less to actually take a drink and more to cover the brilliant flush in your cheeks.

Juliana doesn't seem to notice, or (more likely) simply refrains from commenting. "So, tell me about yourself, Y/N. Are you from Earth? What made you want to join Starfleet? How long have you been stationed on the Enterprise?"

As you answer, you find yourself relaxing a little. Juliana Tainer is easier to talk to than you had imagined, and from all the signs she's already all but adopted you as a daughter in all but blood. You tell her the story of the Museum of Interplanetary Life and the pirin, then about applying for the Academy, graduating, your early commissions, and then your life aboard the Enterprise the last several years. Juliana is a good listener, interjecting questions or smiling and laughing quietly in response.

"Well, all I can say is Data seems to have good taste," Juliana says with a little wink. "But of course he does. He's a smart boy. So, you've been with him four months now? What do you think of him?"

Your blush returns, but you also can't help swooning a little too. "He's…he's everything I ever wanted," you admit dreamily. "Sometimes I remember that we're together and it seems like it can't possibly be true. I've never met someone kinder, gentler, more patient. He's so good to me. Frankly, I'm amazed someone else didn't come along and snatch him up long before I came into the picture. I couldn't ask for a better boyfriend."

Juliana is smiling gently. "Well, obviously I'm very biased, but I couldn't agree more. I don't think I could possibly be prouder of the man he's become." A sad, pained look crosses her face. "I only wish I could go back and make different choices so that I could have been there for him his entire life the way he deserved. His life hasn't been easy, and I know I'm partially to blame for it, so seeing him so happy, content, and surrounded by people who love him is more than I could ever have asked for." She reaches across the table and pats your arm. "Don't ever take him for granted, dear. He's a true treasure, and a good lot of it has nothing to do with his programming."

That brings up something you'd been curious about for months but had never found a good way to ask Data about. "His personality, how much of it is programming and how much of it is…him?"

Juliana shakes her head. "Oh, I'm not the right person to ask that. Noonien was the one who knew all the secrets of his programming, but I can tell you what I suspect. Noonien programmed him with certain qualities, with some input from me: his ethical program, a desire to learn, his need to create, an urge to seek connection with humanity. But we couldn't predict how his neural net would grow or how he would use the qualities we gave him. I believe a great deal of what truly makes Data the man we know has nothing to do with his programming, which is what Noonien wanted all along. He was our child, and like a child, he had to learn to spread his own wings and fly. Noonien wanted to create a being who could make his own decisions, who could become his own person and dream his own dreams separate from his wiring and his coding. And like any parent, I hope we gave him a good foundation to grow from, but there's only so much responsibility we can claim for the man he grew into."

You smile a little. You had long suspected that those little acts of thoughtfulness and kindness, his connection to you, his tenderness towards Spot, the passion behind his kisses, that they were all something beyond his programming, the part of him that made him who he truly was: his soul, if such a thing was possible.

You look up and find him at the bar, nodding amiably and wearing his cute little smile as Commander Riker and Dr. Crusher chat with him. You catch his eye and smile at him, and he tilts his head, unmistakable fondness in his gaze. Riker claps him on the back and the momentary connection between you is broken, but you still find yourself glancing down and blushing happily.

Your skin prickles, and you look up to find Juliana watching you knowingly. When she sees you've noticed her again, she arches an eyebrow with a smile. "Powerful, isn't it? Young love? There's nothing else like it in the entire galaxy, and I'm so very happy that the two of you have found it together. I remember so well how it was with me and Noonien – the blushes, the whispers, the little touches that felt like wildfire, the kisses, oh the kisses." She sighs deeply. "Treasure every moment of it, dear."

You think about the last two months since Lore's attack. You've needed the space, and you don't regret not pushing yourself, but you feel a twinge of longing for how much closer the two of you could have become in those months all the same.

Juliana takes a casual sip of her tulaberry wine and shoots you a mischievously inquisitive look. "So tell me, dear, I'm quite curious – have you discovered his dirty talk subroutine yet?"

You choke and punch spurts painfully out your nose, causing your eyes to water. Juliana nonchalantly slides a glass of water over to you. You fumble for it and take sips in between coughs and rub at your watering eyes with your sleeve.

When you've gotten your choked coughs under control, Juliana raises her eyebrows at you. "I'm going to take that as a no."

You can feel the flaming heat of a blush all the way to your ears, and you take another sip, more to have something to do and to avoid Juliana's sparkling eyes than to subdue further coughs. You can almost feel your eyes bugging out of your head as you try to imagine anything even remotely dirty coming out of Data's impeccably polite mouth.

"Oh, no need to look so scandalized, dear," Juliana remarks. "It's not really all that extreme, as his father and I didn't feel that would match his personality. But we – or rather I – felt he needed to have a more…romantic…vocabulary that wasn't so clinical as his regular speech patterns. Noonien did most of the programming, of course, but I had a good deal of input in many areas, including that one. It's too bad he hasn't used it with you yet; that subroutine was one of my favorites to help create and I'm very curious how effective it turned out to be."

You nod, still blushing furiously, and wonder absently whether you're more shocked to discover that Data has a dirty talk subroutine or that your boyfriend's mother is casually chatting with you about it in the middle of Ten Forward.

Still, as embarrassing as the topic is, you can't help but admit that you're intrigued, and it opens the doorway to a question that's been plaguing you ever since you first starting dating your android boyfriend. "Juliana?" You hesitate, feeling a little shy and also not wanting to sound like you're criticizing her husband's work. "About his…his sexual programming, why did you and Dr. Soong give him that, but not a romance subroutine? I always thought it was a little strange that he knows fifty ways to kiss, but he had to write his own subroutine to learn how to be romantic."

Juliana is nodding half-way through your question. "Oh, it's quite simple really. And Noonien only programmed him with twenty-eight ways of kissing, so anything else he's learned on his own. But as to your question, it all comes down to instinct, dear."

You wrinkle your nose (which is still burning a little) and crease your brow. "Instinct?"

"Yes, instinct." Juliana nods, eyes bright. "Humans are born with certain near-universal instincts, and Data's programming essentially fills in those same gaps. Noonien was very particular about it; he wanted Data to learn and grow as organically as possible, to be as human as possible. The goal was to create programming for Data that would help him become more human-like, but that at the same time would not interfere with his personhood. His sexual programming is a stand-in for what would be instinctive for a human: the technical knowledge of what to do combined with a natural urge to share certain experiences with others. Noonien, of course, left room for Data to develop his own preferences and desires in this area just like a human, but we hoped that giving him the technical knowledge would help him and drive his curiosity to learn more.

"Romance on the other hand, well, that is much more complex and personal than simply figuring out how parts fit together and what feels mutually pleasurable. It's about two people connecting and creating emotional bonds, and that's not something that can be programmed. It's something that both of us knew Data would have to figure out for himself. Thus we left those areas of his programming for him to design for himself."

Your cheeks dimple in a smile as you remember how Data was early in your couplehood, when he'd been trying to navigate romance like a mathematical formula and how stilted and awkward he'd come across. "On one of our first dates, he purposefully locked us both in the Jeffries Tubes because he'd read about situations like that in romance stories. But once we were both stuck in there together, he had no idea what to do. He spent the next forty minutes telling me facts about cats until I finally got him to kiss me. It was adorable."

Juliana's laughter tinkles like a bell. "Oh, I would have given anything to see that! How funny!"

You grin; Juliana's good humor is infectious. "He's learned a lot since then, but he's still an absolute dork." You look over to where your boyfriend is kneeling down, accepting handmade birthday cards from a cluster of school children. "I wouldn't have him any other way."

Reminiscing about him and your early days together lights an alluring warmth in your chest. You think of the package from Risa waiting tucked in your belongings, and the tantalizing image that's been haunting you for the last two weeks springs unprompted into your mind, causing you to shiver involuntarily. Your fingers tingle, suddenly longing to run along pale, smooth skin, and your lips burn with the thought of phantom android kisses. The sudden intense need to have him in your arms catches you off guard.

You find Juliana watching you with a knowing expression, and you duck your head, blushing brilliantly once again. A moment later, you feel Juliana's hand on your arm. "There's no shame in being madly in love with a handsome young man, my dear. But if you don't mind me asking, I have a rather personal question."

You frown a little. "Yes?"

"Well, you obviously love each other and your attraction to him is as clear as starlight, but I get the distinct impression that you haven't…well…explored a good deal of what his programming has to offer. I'm guessing his dirty talk subroutine isn't the only one you haven't discovered yet. Do you mind if I ask why that is?"

Your breath catches unpleasantly and a sudden panic grips you, but then you look into Juliana's kind eyes and see the genuine concern written there. She's a mother; of course, she's able to pick up on the things that you haven't said aloud. Unsure how she'll respond, you swallow, but then you make up your mind.

"When we starting dating, we both wanted to take things slow. We liked the idea of savoring each new step with one another, not rushing it. And for the first two months that we were together, each new step we took was like pure magic. But then…something happened."

Haltingly, you tell her about Lore, about your fear and about your inner battle of feeling like you need to take things extra slow warring with the simultaneous desire for deeper intimacy with your lover. It feels good to talk to someone about it, especially someone like Juliana. You notice the pain on her face at the mention of Lore's name, but otherwise she remains quiet and attentive while you talk.

"I had a similar experience," Juliana says when you finish. "Not quite the same, but similar. When the Crystalline Entity attacked the colony at Omicron Theta, I was very badly injured. I barely lived. Noonien and I were the only survivors. After I recovered, for months I was terrified of going outside, so much as stepping out the door. I knew in my mind that I was safe, but I was so afraid that the Entity would attack again. I don't know what I would have done if it hadn't been for Noonien. He was so patient with me. His love is what kept me together those months after the attack, when nothing and nowhere felt safe except his arms. Perhaps Data can do the same for you, if you let him."

You look over at Data again. He's sitting at the bar now. The school children have left to swarm the cake table, except for one boy who remains at Data's side, sitting on a stool next to him. They're both sipping smoothies and clearly engaged in conversation, and there's a familiarity between them that surprises you a little.

"I…I do want more," you admit in a voice barely above a whisper and realize it's the first time you've admitted your desire out loud. "I've been wanting more for a while, but I don't know how to describe it. It's like I feel stuck. It's like I'm afraid to take the next step with him."

"Two months after we fled from Omicron Theta, Noonien asked me to go stargazing with him. I was so afraid of going outside and looking up at the sky, so terrified that I'd see that terrible white light again destroying everything I'd ever known and loved. But I trusted Noonien, and so I went with him. He'd built a treehouse, a treehouse of all things if you'd believe it, right there in the middle of the jungle. He helped me up, and then we lay on our backs amongst the treetops and watched the stars. I tell you, taking that first step felt like falling, but thing was, I knew Noonien was there to catch me."

Juliana pats your hand gently. "It might feel like falling to you too, but I think we both know Data is more than capable of catching you."

You continue to watch Data, your heart thumping loudly. The boy finishes his smoothie and slides down off his stool, giving Data a quick hug before darting off to join the other children. The tenderness of Data's returning hug catches at your heart and soul. There's something in the gesture that captures Data's utter selflessness, the truth that he would give his all for those he cares about, even if he were to receive nothing in return. You look back at Juliana. "Why did Dr. Soong make it so that he can't feel pleasure?"

Juliana blinks, clearly caught off guard by the question. "What do you mean?"

"Why can't he feel pleasure?" you respond. "It just seems a bit unfair to me that he can't ever truly receive what he's so good at giving."

Juliana frowns. "I'm not sure what you mean, dear. He can feel pleasure."

Now you're the one caught off guard. "Wait, what?"

Juliana shakes her head. "What would make you think he can't feel pleasure? Noonien was very pleased with that aspect of his programming."

You stutter a little bit. "But…he's told me…he's always told me he can't feel any pleasure."

Sadness passes like a cloud over Juliana's face. "He absolutely can feel pleasure. Has he never shown any enjoyment in his time with you?"

You think of those expressions on his face when you've touched him, the seeming passion behind his kisses and his touches, those soft, exquisite sounds he's made when he's with you. A bubble of hope and intense longing rises up in you. He's told you he can want to be near you and he can desire your touch, but until this moment you hadn't realized how much it pained you to think that he could never enjoy those moments as fully as you and how, perhaps, subconsciously, that knowledge has kept you from seeking out pleasure from him to the extent that you've wished for it.

Perhaps Juliana reads a little of your emotions and thoughts on your face, for she continues before you reply. "He doesn't talk much about it – not to me at least – but I think he learned to believe less in himself when he was young and impressionable. Perhaps at some point he was told by a particularly narrow-minded individual that androids can't feel pleasure…and now he simply believes that he doesn't."

"Like how he insists he can't feel emotion or love," you murmur.

Juliana nods. "Yes, just like that," she agrees. "I'm glad you've noticed that. He's internalized a lot of false ideas about himself very deeply. I wish I could have a word or several hundred with the humans who gave him such a limited view of himself." She clasps your hand. "But if anyone can get him to see the truth about himself, I think it might be you, dear."

You look up into her eyes, surprised by the depth of emotion in her voice. She cares about him, truly cares about him, you realize. You feel the weight of the solemnity of her belief in you and her hope that you can be the one who reaches some deep, injured part of Data. And that's the moment you realize this is what is going to give you the strength and focus to reach for what you want tonight. This is what you want: the ability and opportunity for two souls to reach towards each other and both bring mutual comfort and perhaps healing to one another.

Juliana squeezes your hand, that mischievous gleam glinting behind her grave expression once again. "Give him a night to remember, dear. And do make sure to ask him about his dirty talk subroutine; I suspect you'll both like it."

Without further ado, she rises, flashes you a bright smile, and heads into the crowd to mingle further.

Your mind still filled with these new revelations, you rise as well and slowly make your way over to the bar where Data is still sitting, at the moment free from well-wishers. You slide onto the stool next to him and lay your cheek against his shoulder. You feel him shift as he turns his head to look down at you. "How's it going?" you ask.

He considers his response briefly. "It is going well, I believe. It is my opinion that I am…enjoying myself."

You smile against the fabric of his uniform. "I'm glad to hear it."

You look down at the countertop in front of Data, where there is a pile of handmade cards from the children. The one on top features two stick figures, one clearly Data, the other a child holding his hand. Above the drawing is written: "Happy birthday, Data! From your favorite android, Timothy." You raise your eyebrows slightly, wondering about the story behind the message. Whatever it is, the pile of cards is evidence of a clear truth: that Data has positively touched so many lives, your own included.

You stroke your hand softly up his back, memorizing every wrinkle in his jacket and hint of his form underneath. For a short while, the two of you sit in warm, fond silence, enclosed in a pleasant bubble of each other's presence amid the celebratory noise and bustle around you. Finally, Data speaks again. "I observed that you were becoming acquainted with my mother. How do you find her?"

You smile. "She seems like a lovely, sweet person. She also seems like she can be a bit of a handful though."

Data frowns. "A handful? I do not believe I understand your meaning."

You remember that mischievous twinkle in Juliana's eyes when she dropped the dirty talk bomb on you. "Let's just say she had some very juicy information about you."

You glance up to find Data giving you a look that you would swear contained mild panic. "She told you about me 'streaking' the colonists, did she not?" he asks hesitantly, and you can hear the subtle hints of mortification in his voice.

You snort with laughter. "You what?"

His chagrined expression deepens. "I take it then that she did not tell you about that story." He pauses and you see the dread of realization pass through his golden eyes. "But I just did."

"Oh, yes you did." You're still chortling. "And I am so getting that full story."

At that moment, the music changes to a slow waltz. You turn in your seat and look up at the music ensemble on the stage area. Commander Riker is hovering suspiciously near the ensemble and when he sees you looking, he gives you a huge wink and grin and jerks his head towards the open area where people have been dancing. You grin back and turn to your boyfriend to tug his arm. "Come on, Data. Dance with me."

He leads you onto the floor and gently takes your hand, guiding you into the sway of the dance. Your bodies are close enough to nearly be touching. You glide your hand over his broad shoulders, holding yourself to him. The rhythm of his steps is precise, flawless.

"So, Data," you say, "I've been wondering something. Should I be calling this your birthday or your activation day?"

Data considers your question with that careful precision that he always displays. After a moment, he responds. "Although it is the latter that is technically correct, I believe the term I find myself preferring is 'birthday'. Until today, whenever I acknowledged the significance of this date, I would have considered it the day of my activation, and that is perhaps still what it is in the most literal sense. However, although I was not born in any traditional sense, I do believe that at the moment of my activation, a new life form was brought into the world and into being, which could be considered a birth. I do not know whether I possess a soul in any sense of the word, but I clearly possess a sentient consciousness of some type and I believe that is sufficient to consider what occurred that day to be a birth."

You stroke your fingers over his right shoulder blade, and through his shirt your fingers brush over the small, secret hidden switch. As you always do since the day he revealed that tiny spot to you, you feel a rush of intimacy with him as your hand rests protectively over his vulnerability. The knowledge that this strong, incredible being trusts you is like nothing else in the world.

You nuzzle a little bit into his neck, and his fingers on your waist stray down a touch to cradle your hips. Warmth blooms in your chest, and you feel far away from the rest of the world, here in this moment with your android.

The song ends, and the soothing rhythm of Data's movements ceases. You remain in each other's arms, both reluctant to let go. Finally, you go to pull away from him, but he slides his hand along your jaw, cradling your face, and lowers a smoldering, if soft, kiss to your lips. Maybe it's just your imagination and your own cravings, but you could swear you taste the longing on him.

After far too short a moment, he draws back from you, though he still holds you tenderly. "And how about you?" he inquires. "You have not told me whether or not you are enjoying my birthday party."

You smile a little. "It reminds me of my childhood. I don't think I've been to a full-blown birthday party since I was ten. It was sweet of Commander Riker and Geordi to organize this for you." You stroke your hand up his arm. "They really love you. Everyone here does."

Data hesitates, as if unsure if he should speak or not. "It is an experience about which I have been curious for a long time, but I have never before been invited to a birthday party, much less had my own. However, as much of an intriguing and enjoyable experience as this has been, I have been unable to stop a significant portion of my thoughts from considering the possibility that you and I might spend part of my birthday alone."

You're surprised by the hesitancy in his voice, as if he's unsure whether you'd be offended by such a suggestion. You press your cheek to his, your lips at his ear. "I've been counting on it," you whisper to him. "I may or may not have a little surprise for us to share together," you add, letting your voice go soft and sultry, hoping it is clear to him what the general nature of said surprise might be.

He turns his face and nuzzles his lips against your cheek. "Curious," he murmurs. "It would seem that a part of my sexual programming is attempting to activate without my command to do so."

Aware that you're still in a public area, but feeling increasingly hot and bothered yourself, you resist the increasingly powerful urge to let your hands stray. You don't want to rush him away from his own birthday party, but at the same time, you aren't sure how long you can successfully keep your hands to yourself, especially now with the promise of what lies ahead before the night is over.

Data's hands twitch against your hips, and you wonder if he's fighting a similar sensation. When he speaks, his voice sounds oddly strained. "The party has now been going for precisely two hours and eleven minutes, and I have spent one hour and twenty-three minutes socializing with various individuals, eighteen minutes cutting the cake and eating it with other accompanying treats, sixteen minutes, forty-two seconds dancing with you, twelve minutes, eight seconds unwrapping birthday presents and reading cards, and one minute, ten seconds breaking the piñata. I believe I have sufficiently experienced all the pertinent elements of a birthday party."

You look over Data's shoulder and see Juliana at the edge of the dance floor. When she sees you've noticed her, she makes a broad shooing motion in your direction. The message is clear enough, and the burning pull in your lower belly urges you to obey.

Data thanks Commander Riker and Geordi for their "excellent organizational skills" and assures them that he has thoroughly enjoyed his first birthday party, then politely excuses himself. From the knowing look that the two other bridge officers exchange, it's clear that they have a good idea about how Data wants to spend the rest of his birthday evening, and their mutual grins suggest that they fully support it. Data is stopped and congratulated several more times by various guests as you work your way out of the room, but finally the door of Ten Forward hisses shut behind you, and you and Data are finally alone.

Almost the instant the door closes, Data turns to you and kisses you, catching you off guard. The open-mouthed caress is filled with a yearning you've never felt from him before, but you return it happily. Your stomach flips and flutters, as if you were riding a roller coaster, and heat pulses deep inside you; you hadn't realized how desperately you'd been longing for this. You twine your fingers into his hair, pulling his head down against you, and give yourself into the blissful sensation of his lips and tongue.

He breaks the kiss after a minute or two, and when he looks at you, those golden eyes are unbearably sultry and you know his sexual programming is fully up and running. "If it is your wish, we should perhaps continue in a space where we are less likely to be interrupted."

"Come back to my quarters," you say breathily, your lips still burning and tingling from his touch. "I have something to grab for us, and then we can spend the evening in your quarters."

Less than ten minutes later, the doors to Data's quarters hiss shut and beep satisfyingly as they lock, promising you both all the privacy you could desire.

For some reason, you suddenly feel nervous. You're keenly aware of Data's intense gaze, but the open curiosity on his face fills your chest with a softness like down feathers. "I…I picked up a couple little things on Risa," you say. You pick up the first of the two packages and hand it to him, a little embarrassed by how sweaty your palms are.

Data doesn't seem to mind however, for he takes it tenderly and opens it to reveal the collar you picked out for Spot. His eyebrows lift along with the corner of his mouth. "Hmm!" he says, before looking up and around, raising his voice. "Spot, Y/N has expressed her affections for you by providing you with a new accessory."

The next several minutes are diverted into looking for Spot, whom Data ultimately finds behind the couch. He coaxes her out and holds her while you fix the collar around her neck. Data proceeds to coo over her in a display of utter adorableness that has your heart aching just as much as the corners of your mouth and your cheeks.

After Spot has been sufficiently adored, Data rejoins you on the coach, that bright curiosity back in place. "I assume the collar is not the 'little surprise' you spoke of earlier," he says. "You insinuated that you had something of a more romantic nature for us to share together."

Your hands are trembling. You could still back out, tell him that the packages got mixed up and that you need to go back to your quarters for the right one, where you could swap it out with a more conventional gift. But at the same time, that alluring image from Risa hangs before your eyes, and you know if you back out now, you'll regret never taking this chance with him. You pull out the second package.

"Yes, I…I got this from Risa for us," you say, voice shaking. "It's a little self-indulgent on my part, so I hope you don't mind. I…I hope you like it."

Data slips his fingers over your hand. "Y/N," he says seriously. "I know for certain I would like whatever you chose to get me as a gift, simply because it was you who gave it."

You swallow, throat clogged with emotion, then lay the small package in his lap. Your heart pounds so hard you can hear it in your ears as his long, nimble fingers unwrap the paper, finally revealing your gift.

At first glance, it appears to be an intricate necklace, beginning with a silver choker embellished with delicate azure crystal flowers, each petal lovingly shaped. From it drape loops of chain as delicate as dew-encrusted spider silk. Two thicker chains hang lower, connected together by one of the thinner links. Where the thicker chains meet the thinner, there are two rings of azure blue petals that match those around the choker.

Data holds it up carefully, displaying that genuine curiosity that is so signature to him. "The workmanship appears to be Risian with subtle hints of Endrin neo-floric influence. Intriguing." He looks back at you. "However, I am uncertain that I understand its significance."

You feel your blush creeping from your cheeks all the way to your ears. "It's…it's body jewelry, Data."

He examines it again, head tilted to the side, then makes a small sound of understanding. "Mm, I see now. The choker goes around the wearer's neck, with the thinner chains draping over the chest. These rings-" He delicately fingers the azure petals suspended from the thicker chains "-I presume attach in some manner to the wearer's nipples, with this final chain hanging between them over the sternum."

"That's right," you answer.

He looks back at you. "The design is quite aesthetically pleasing, but I assume your intention in buying it for me goes beyond a passive visual examination."

And now, finally you give voice to that mental image that has been haunting you since the moment you laid eyes on the jewelry. "I…I keep imagining you wearing it. The silver against your gold skin. Those blue flowers. I can hardly imagine anything more beautiful or sexier in the whole universe." A rush of self-conscious uncertainty floods through you that comes out in a hesitant stutter. "I…I understand if it's not really your thing though. You don't have to wear it. I just thought maybe-"

You trail off as he places his fingertips against your lips. There is immeasurable softness in his eyes. "Y/N, I can think of few gifts more special to me than one which brings you the joy and excitement of which you speak. I wish very much to share in the joint enjoyment that my wearing your gift could bring us both."

You hadn't realized you'd been holding your breath, but it comes out now in a shaky exhale as the hard knot in your chest dissolves, replaced by a surge of giddy excitement. "You like it then?"

That flash of almost-mischief that sometimes flickers in Data's expression is there for a second and gone. It reminds you of Juliana, and you wonder for a moment if he's his mother's son just as much as his father's. "I believe I will like it far more when I am wearing it."

Well, that's an invitation if ever you heard one. You reach towards him, body leaning forward eagerly, and he turns to display his back to you, a clear invitation to undo his zipper. You scoot up next to him on the couch, your knee bumping into his hip, and slide the zipper downward. As you do so, you nuzzle forward to kiss the back of his neck where his hair meets his collar.

Even now, when you've seen him half a dozen times without his shirt, the sight of him still encourages a heady swell of desire from your lower belly. It still makes your head spin, not only that a man so beautiful can exist, but that he is yours.

You reach for the jewelry, taking it gently from his hands, and take a moment just to hold it, feeling the silky links in your hand and the smooth glossiness of the crystal flower petals. You feel equal parts nervous and giddy. Slowly, you begin to lift your hands.

To your surprise, he stops you with a gentle hand on your wrist. You look up to find his expression serious, his lips pressed firmly together. When he sees he has your full attention, he speaks. "Y/N, before we proceed further, there is a question I feel the need to ask you."

Your breath catches. "Yes?"

Data bobs his head. "I wish to understand your reasons for spending this time with me and giving me this gift. Before we continue, is this something you truly wish to share with me, or are you offering me this intimacy simply because it is my birthday?"

His question breaks over you like a shock wave. "Data!" you exclaim. "Of course I want this with you. Why would you think otherwise?"

He is silent for a touch too long. His eyes flicker momentarily down, almost as if he were ashamed or uncertain, before they return to your face. "Then you are certain you will enjoy this?"

Doubt begins to squirm uncomfortably in your chest. "Why wouldn't I enjoy spending time with my boyfriend?" He hesitates again and you lay the jewelry aside, resting your hand on top of his. "Data, is something wrong?"

He's unnervingly still, more so than any organic being could achieve, and for a moment you're afraid that he's malfunctioning. When he speaks, his voice is so soft that you can only just make out his words. "Then you are not growing tired of me?"

A second shock wave hits you and instinctively, impulsively, you take his face in your hands so that has little choice but to look at you. The fire inside you smolders down to a background glow – still there, but taking a back seat in the face of this sudden change in Data's behavior. "Sweetheart, love, of course I'm not growing tired of you. I love you. I adore you. Why would you think I'm getting tired of you?"

Data gazes back unblinkingly, his expression totally neutral, which in and of itself you've learned is significant. He seems almost…wary. "I have noticed that over the last two months, your interest in me has decreased by eight point two percent. Although you have continued to spend time with me, you seem less interested in exploring anything further or deeper with me as had regularly been the case prior."

He pauses briefly, then continues. "When I began this relationship with me, it was with the knowledge that one day I would reach a point where I could no longer satisfy you and our relationship would eventually terminate. Despite this, I decided it was worth the likely conclusion for the chance to get to know you and create memories with you that I would be able to treasure even if you were no longer part of my life. If you are reaching this point, where the novelty of what I have to offer in our relationship has begun to fade, I would not wish for you to continue on merely for my sake."

Now it's distress swirling in your stomach, along with a faintly nauseated sensation. You feel tears gathering at the corner of your eyes at the flat tone in Data's voice and the emptiness in his unblinking eyes. "I'm not growing tired of you, Data, and I'm not going to. What makes you think I would?"

His eyes meet yours, unblinking, boring into your soul. "Because in every romantic encounter I have experienced, the pattern has been that as soon as I have nothing novel left to offer, I am no longer wanted."

It feels like being punched, the thought of anyone treating this gentle, sweet android with such dismissiveness, as if he were only an object to be used and discarded. You remember Juliana's words about Data's proclivity to believe the lies he has too often heard about himself, and you realize this is far more important than any sexy jewelry or blissful make out session.

You scoot back in the couch so that you're sitting side by side with him, your body still twisted slightly to face him. As you do so, he attempts to stop you. "Y/N, if it is your desire to proceed with the jewelry, I do not wish to stop you."

You touch his lips softly. "No. No, I do still want that, but I think we need to talk about this for a moment." You take his hand, your fingers curling between his. "That is, if you want to."

Data nods in acknowledgement. "I am amenable to that course of action."

You mirror his nod and take a deep breath. "I promise you, Data, the last two months have had nothing to do with me losing interest. After Lore…" you swallow painfully, "…after that, I felt….stuck. I wanted more, I wanted it so, so much, and I still do, but I don't think I was ready. I needed time to figure myself out and what I want, I think. Plus, both our schedules have been so crazily busy."

The corners of Data's lips twitch and he blinks, breaking that unnerving mechanical stare. "Yes, our respective schedules have been significantly busier than average," he concedes.

"But on Risa," you continue, "I finally had the time to think about you…about us. And I was able to think about what an absolute gift knowing you has been in my life. And I'm so sorry you thought I was losing interest. I wish you'd said something."

"I considered that course of action," he responds. "However, I was concerned that you might misunderstand my motives and feel as if I were pressuring you to give me intimacy that you were not in fact interested in giving. I would not have wished for you to share time and actions with me that you felt merely obligated to grant."

You recall your thoughts about him from earlier, that he would give his all to those he loves even if he received nothing in return. Your heart aches for him. "I wouldn't have felt pressured, not if you had explained it that way. I want to make sure you feel loved and appreciated and that you know how much I care about you. I don't know what your experiences in the past were, but it's not a pattern that's going to continue on my watch. You're a person, Data, not a curiosity to be discarded the moment you're not helpful or interesting anymore. And heaven help me if I don't get it through your positronic brain tonight just how special you are to me."

The corners of his lips twist upward and his eyes soften to their familiar liquid gold. "I find myself greatly anticipating the opportunity to prove my specialness to you thoroughly tonight."

You reintroduce a hint of playfulness to your voice. "Well, then come over here, birthday boy, and let's see how you look in this jewelry."

The fire that you'd set aside to smolder instantly flares back up, and a shiver ghosts down your spine at the instant eagerness that returns to Data's face. He picks the jewelry back up and presents it to you, then twists his torso to face you, presenting his naked chest to your whims.

You clasp the choker around his neck, your fingers sliding under his hair to snap it shut. As you suspected, the silver stands out stunningly against his pale gold throat and dark hair, and the blue flowers glitter teasingly at you. Gently, you arrange the thinner chains so that they drape gracefully across his chest, enjoying the silky smoothness of his bioplast as you do so. The entire time, you're keenly aware of his eyes fixed on you.

You lift the heavier outer chains where they hang loosely at his sides. The rings of blue petals with their empty centers shine in the artificial light of Data's quarters. Carefully, reverently almost, you slide the first ring over Data's right nipple, twisting it gently so that it tightens until it's firmly in place. You repeat the actions on the left side, then lean back to take him all in.

There are no words for how utterly beautiful and sexy Data looks in that moment. As you hoped it would, the pattern of the draped chains accentuate the broadness and shape of his beautiful chest. The silver gleams against his pearlescent skin. The deep blue petals draw delicious attention to his pretty rose-gold nipples that now form the center of each of the two flowers, simply begging to be lavished with all kinds of attention. His sweet, soft expression is the perfect finishing touch to the gorgeous ensemble.

He's so much hotter than you ever dared to dream he'd be.

"Data," you choke. "Oh god, Data."

His expression turns impossibly shy. "Is it…satisfactory?"

Your response is to hurl yourself enthusiastically onto him before your insides burn right through your skin.

He falls back gently against the couch and catches you, his hands clasping your waist, as your lips crush against his in a passionate kiss. The sensations of wet warmth and silken skin fill your universe with white-hot stars. Every inch of your skin tingles and flares as your tongues perform their own pleasurable waltz in a sultry imitation of your earlier dance. You run your hands up along his bare shoulder blades, caressing him deeply, your stomach and chest pressed tight against his. The insides of your thighs squeeze against the gentle swell of his hips. You glide your fingers along the edge of his collar, feeling how his soft skin meets the smooth metal, then you dig them deep into the thick locks of dark hair. Oh, you think as you moan softly into his mouth, this is exactly what you'd been craving.

Data responds in like, kissing you back with unveiled enthusiasm. He's eager and boyish, like the times you've seen him in his Holmes holodeck program or that time a few days ago when he discovered the existence of string telephones and rounded up you, Geordi, and Counselor Troi to thoroughly test it all over the ship for literal hours. You love that so much about him: that everything is fresh and bright and exciting and interesting through those golden eyes. Every moment with him is a new gift.

His fingers toy with the bottom of your shirt, then he slips his hands up underneath the garment, and you feel his long fingers gliding over the bare skin of your lower back. At the same time, his lips part from yours and he nuzzles against your jaw, encouraging you to tilt your head back for him. You do so and gasp when you feel his mouth press hard against your throat. He sucks at your skin, then licks with the flat of his tongue, and the combination of sensations has you reeling. You stare at the ceiling, eyes glazed with pleasure and half shut, and whimper as Data's hands dance against the bare skin of your back and his lips and tongue continue to do wonderful things to your throat.

Suddenly, he wraps his arms more tightly around you and stands with easy grace as if you weigh nothing to him, his lips returning to yours. You wrap your legs around his hips, holding yourself to him as he carries you, your noses bumping and rubbing together as you find the rhythm of your kiss. You feel him moving, walking whilst never breaking the kiss, then suddenly he's leaning forward and releasing you. There's a split second of exhilarating free fall, then you sink into pure softness. You realize after a second that you're laid out on your back in his bed.

He quickly slides himself onto the bed after you, resting on his hands and knees and straddling you. You gaze up at him with awe, torn between staring into his face and at the silver chains hanging from his chest. From your exquisite point of view, his shoulders seem even broader than usual, and you can see all the individual shapely lines of his arms pressed down into the bed on either side of you. Your insides are simply melting into liquid heat.

On a sudden impulsive whim of bravery, you reach down to where the black line of his dress pants meets the golden cream of his bare stomach. You hook your fingers over the waistband and tug just slightly downward, then pause to give him a chance to react. He tilts his head to the side, his lips parting in that expression of soft curiosity that you love so deeply, then his eyebrows rise sharply. He lifts one hand and places it over the top of yours against his waist. For a second, you stare into each other's eyes, then he closes his hand over yours and helps you tug his pants downward.

It would be a lie to say that getting Data out of his pants is an entirely graceful process, but it's a new and exciting one that ends with the beautiful android on his back on the bed while you tug off his boots and slide his bunched pants over his feet to free him of them at last. You sit back on your heels and gaze down at the sight below you.

He's now dressed in nothing but his black, standard-issue Starfleet boxer briefs that leave decidedly little up to the imagination. They hug the shape of his smooth thighs and show off even more that perfect sculpted stomach. His legs are long and elegant, once again crafted to perfectly mimic the musculature of a fit adult male, and you run your hands down them, feeling the curve of the artificial muscles underneath the flawless bioplast.

You sit back again, admiring him as he looks up at you with that soft, sweet expression, and try to decide what will sate the cravings clamoring inside of you. Finally, your eyes stray back up to his chest and that utterly alluring jewelry clasped to him. Your stomach knots and flips wonderfully.

In the reverse to the position you were in minutes ago, it is now you sliding yourself up Data's body, straddling him on the bed beneath you. His head and shoulders rest against the pillows, propping up his torso perfectly and putting him on full display for you. You shiver as your body slides against his, aware of just how little he's wearing.

You begin by stroking him, starting at the low rim of his boxers and working your way slowly, methodically upward. You watch his eyes sink half-shut, lips parted, that sensual expression that you absolutely cannot ever get enough of spreading over his face. You ghost your fingers along the underside of his pectoral muscles to the outside of his chest, briefly brushing against the chain hanging between his nipples. His tongue slips out, moistening his lips in a fascinatingly human way. You sit on his hips, leaning forward and deeply massaging the sides of his chest, purposefully avoiding the chains. His fingers twitch impulsively.

You lean further, dipping down to teasingly kiss the very corner of his mouth as you continue to rub his sides. He makes a soft, almost inaudible sound in response. You kiss down his throat and nuzzle the underside of his choker with your lips, then move further down, kissing and occasionally scraping gently with your teeth. You feel his hips shift slightly under yours, sending an electric jolt through your whole body.

Finally, you slide your hands back inward, over his sternum, and run your fingertips along the chain lying across the center of his chest. Gently, you hook the chain over your finger and tug ever so gently, watching your handsome android as you do so.

His head drops back into the pillows, baring the full length of his long, beautiful throat adorned with that silver choker. A sound escapes his rose-gold lips: soft and sweet and keening. The pleasurable knot in your stomach tightens further. You pinch the chain between your forefinger and thumb, giving you heightened control over it, and begin to play, experimenting with pressures, speeds, and movements, and carefully watching his reactions to make sure he's enjoying himself.

After several minutes, you've determined that Data seems to like it best when you tug the chain slowly and gently taut, then release it and repeat the motion. It is certainly what is getting the best and hottest reactions from him, and your insides are nothing short of molten at how sexy he looks with his back arched, his head tossed back, hair tousled, soft little sounds of appreciation bubbling from his lips.

But despite your guesses, you want to make sure, so you gently ease the chain and reach up to cup his face. "Are you enjoying yourself, sweetheart?"

His eyes flicker back open and he tilts his head sideways on the pillow. "Yes," he whispers. "It…it is an intriguing experience." You smile at how flustered he sounds. "Yes." He nods his head. "I believe you made an excellent selection of a birthday gift." He looks sweetly up at you. "Are you finding that it meets your expectations, darling?"

You caress his cheek. "Oh, Data, I can't even begin to tell you how sexy you look. It's perfect. My only regret is that we didn't do something like this sooner."

He reaches up and mirrors you, cupping your cheek. "Y/N, by your own admission, if we had gone further before now, you would not have been ready. When I was first becoming sentient, I wished to learn and know and experience so much more, and yet, forcing my neural pathways to grow before they were ready would have caused great harm to my overall system and might even have led to cascade failure. Perhaps this is similar. Perhaps you needed to wait for the correct pathways to form before you could properly enjoy the experience."

Of course he's right, this innocently wise android who is so perceptive at the same time. You can't help but smile fondly at him. "You're right, but I'm certainly enjoying it now." You close your eyes as he glides his thumb along your cheekbone. "Watching your pleasure is something that will never grow old."

Immediately, he frowns. "Y/N," he says in a serious voice, "I must remind you that I am incapable of feeling pleasure."

You poke him in the middle of his chest. "Except that you can feel pleasure, you dork. Juliana told me you could. Dr. Soong specifically designed you to be able to feel pleasure. I just knew that was what you were feeling all this time and you were just being obtuse about it."

He goes so still and quiet, but the spark of hope that lights in his eyes wrenches at your heart. "I can feel pleasure?" he asks in that quiet, awed voice, almost as if he's afraid that if he says it, it will slip away from him like a morning mist.

"Yes," you repeat firmly. "Yes, Data, you can."

"I can feel pleasure," he repeats, eyes still wide. "I can feel…pleasure."

His eyes refocus on you and there's a new intensity to them beyond his sexual programming. "I can feel pleasure." He pulls you down against himself, kissing you deeply and wrapping his arms around you, letting his hands slide down to your hips. You kiss him back passionately, caressing your hands up his stomach and over his broad chest, stroking your fingers over his firm nipples and still toying with the delicate chain hanging between them. He makes soft noises of what you now know for certain is pleasure against your mouth as your tongue continues to twine with his, his fingers tightening against your hips.

He rolls you both over, so that your back is once again against the bed sheets, as he continues to nuzzle and kiss you with fervor. After a minute, he pushes himself off you and gazes down at you with a tenderness that has you melting. "Y/N," he says and hesitates. "Y/N, I am pleased to...to experience pleasure with you." He still seems amazed by the revelation.

"So am I," you answer. "Though I was pretty sure that's what you had going on all along."

His eyes are so immeasurably gentle. "Y/N, if I have learned one thing about you, it is that you believe in my own humanity oftentimes even more so than myself."

"Well, it's easy for me," you reply. "I get to see your humanity every day, and it's a beautiful thing."

He grows quiet and almost shy. You tip your head to the side against the pillows to watch his face. "Something on your mind, sweetheart?"

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, and there's a nervous energy about him, as if you can feel the increase of the electricity flow through his neural net. He opens his mouth, closes it, then reopens it. Finally, he speaks in a hesitant voice. "I do not wish to 'switch things up' if you are enjoying our current activities…"

You raise your eyebrow. "But…?"

"But," he continues with a little nod, "but I cannot help but observe the clear enjoyment that you experience each time I have disrobed for you to any degree. I have found myself curious as to whether I might partake in that same enjoyment were I to witness you in a similar state of undress for me. And if so, if you might be willing to explore that possibility with me."

Something new runs through you – a heat or a chill, you're not certain – but it brings in its wake anticipation, excitement, and more than a little shyness. Your cheeks blaze red. "You…you'd like to undress me?"

He nods fervently. "Yes."

Immediately and without bidding, your mind conjures up the phantom sensations of your bare skin pressed against Data's for the first time, his hands roving your body, his eyes devouring you. You remember your thoughts on Risa about letting Data touch you more intimately than anything you had yet shared together and you examine your current feelings. You're nervous, yes, a little embarrassed, yes, but the thought also makes you burn exquisitely.

It's frightening too, but you remember what Juliana said. You know Data will catch you.

"Yes, Data," you answer him a little shakily, placing your hand on his arm. "Yes, I think…I think I'd like to share that with you."

His eyebrows lift and the corners of his mouth perk up instantly, his whole face lighting up. "Truly?"

"Yes, truly," you answer, tapping the tip of his nose. "Anytime you're ready, handsome."

He tilts his head to the side, and you swear there's a deeper gold tint to his cheeks, then he seems to make up his mind. He tenderly takes hold of the bottom hem of your shirt, his fingers so delicate as if he's afraid he'll tear it. The fabric slides against your skin as he pulls it up and off you, his movements slow, deliberate, and careful. There's a sudden rush of cool air against your exposed skin as Data pulls the garment completely away and discards it on the bed beside you.

He pauses, his eyes meeting yours, and there's a silent question in his gaze. You nod to him, letting him know you feel all right and safe, and some almost imperceivable tension eases from his shoulders. He nods back then turns his gaze to your body.

You'd been hoping that things between you and Data might progress to this stage tonight and as such, you'd come prepared. You're wearing a decidedly prettier bra than what you would have ever chosen for yourself: pale blue with lace cutouts along the sides and yellow embroidery over the cups. You're not even sure if Data will notice or enjoy it, but you like the idea of feeling pretty for your handsome android.

You watch his eyes skim methodically over you, from the rim of your skirt up to your chest and shoulders. The expression on his face is one of open curiosity and more than a little wonder. The blush in your cheeks glows on your skin.

After several minutes of silent gazing, his eyes return to yours, soft and awed. "Y/N," he murmurs softly, "you are…very aesthetically pleasing."

Your blush deepens, but you are still caught off guard when he speaks again. "May I continue to remove more of your garments?"

Not trusting your voice, you nod.

This time, he gently slips your skirt down your legs and off, revealing the matching pale blue lace panties you chose for this evening. Faintly, you wonder if he can tell you dressed for him, but your blood is pounding in your ears so hard that coherent thought is becoming difficult. After he removes your skirt, he gently slides his hands up your waist. He traces his fingertip along the gold embroidery of your bra and you shudder when he glides over your nipple. He fingers the lace, then carefully slips his hands around to your back. Between your back and the mattress, you feel his fingers deftly undoing your bra.

The garment comes loose suddenly. Your heart pounds. With all the meticulous carefulness of his mechanical nature, Data slides the straps down your arms then discards your bra entirely.

And just like that, for the first time, you are completely naked from the rim of your panties up in Data's presence.

Shyness washes over you, and you feel the intense urge to cross your arms and cover yourself but you resist, keeping your arms on the bed at your side and allowing him to look to his mechanical heart's content.

And look he does. There's still that sensual light to his eyes caused by his sexual programming, but his most prominent expressions are continued inquisitiveness and wonder. He tilts his head back and forth, as if to look at you from every possible angle, to take in every part of you. You're hyper-aware of your topless body and how fully Data can see you. You shift a little, feeling the intensity of his gaze like a physical touch, until you are hardly able to bare it any longer. You are intimately aware of his hands resting on the bed to either side of you, and suddenly an overwhelming craving for his touch washes over you.

"You know, you're not limited to a visual examination," you tease.

He meets your eyes and you see the recognition as he remembers the words he spoke to you when you were first frozen at the sight of his bare chest. His lips part, his eyes light up, and he lifts himself, leaning on one arm so that the other is free.

His fingers are cool when he touches you, causing a slight shiver to run its way from your shoulders to your toes. He starts at your belly, exploring your navel, the soft flesh over your stomach, and your ribs. Your breathing quickens. He pauses and looks up to your face again, shy and questioning. In response, you reach down to his hand, take it in yours, and lift it to your chest.

He freezes, as if unsure how to proceed, but then his fingers curl gently over the swell of your breast. Your skin feels hot, and you are aware of every single sensation to an almost excruciating degree. He shifts his palm, and you bite your lip to stop from moaning as he rubs against your nipple. Then he begins to stroke gently with his thumb, running it back and forth over the underside of your breast, seemingly mesmerized by the softness and smoothness. Vaguely, through your haze of arousal, you consider how much of his computational abilities are currently focused solely on you, and what an honor that is.

Your heart is pounding so hard that you imagine that he must be able to feel it. You lick your lips, your breath catching. Data glances up to your face. "Is this experience agreeable to you?"

You try to form words around this heady reality of being all but naked in Data's bed, with his hand gently stroking your bare chest. "I'm…I'm realizing how…how much I've been wanting more with you, Data."

He smiles, that small, almost invisible yet unforced smile that one might not even recognize as such unless you knew him well. "And how about you?" you ask. "Are you finding it as enjoyable as you hoped?"

He considers your question for a brief moment, then nods. "Although yours are not the first breasts I have seen, I am finding my systems uniquely affected by you. My sexual programming appears to be shutting down many of my other systems and I am finding it strangely hard to focus on any of the other tasks I have been running during this time. I am additionally experiencing an odd sensation, something I cannot adequately describe. It is like when I have not ingested my biochemical lubricant for too long and my inner workings have begun to stiffen; it is like the sensation of when I ingest my lubricant and suddenly everything is working at optimum efficiency again. It is a feeling of…gratification…of satisfaction. Yes…yes, I believe I am enjoying the experience." That sweet puppy look comes into his eyes. "I believe…it is pleasurable."

The corners of your cheeks dimple with a huge smile. You love how amazed and happy he is at the discovery of his own ability to experience pleasure, and you can't help but admit that you are enjoying that your body has the ability to please him just as much as his does for you. That train of thought leads you back to that particularly juicy bit of information that Juliana shared with you earlier. You reach up and stroke Data's chest, running your finger over the petal rings and down the chain. "So, Data."

He raises an eyebrow. "So, Y/N?"

You raise your own eyebrow back at him. "Your mother says you have a dirty talk subroutine."

Data doesn't seem fazed by this revelation. His lips purse and his eyes slide off to the side as he accesses his systems. After a moment, both eyebrows rise sharply. "Hm!" He refocuses on you. "Yes, that information appears to be correct. I have a subroutine designed specifically to verbally encourage arousal and excitement."

"And you've never mentioned it or wanted to try it out?" you ask, blushing and grinning at the same time.

"It is not a part of my system that I have ever had reason to access," he responds matter-of-factly "I did not know it was something you were curious about. Do you wish for me to activate it now?"

You bite your lip, unsure what exactly you're getting yourself into, but you decide to go for it. "Yes, please."

Data's head twitches mechanically. "Subroutine activated," he says in that monotone voice that indicates he's performing some internal action with his systems. "Level one setting." He twitches again, and his gaze refocuses. You watch him closely, waiting.

He lowers himself back down and lifts his hand to glide his forefinger slowly down your cheek. You wait with bated breath and shiver as he strokes his fingertip teasingly over your lips. Then he whispers in a surprisingly husky voice. "Y/N, you are so beautiful to me. You please me so much. You make me feel more alive – more human – than anything else in the galaxy. I want to kiss and touch every nanometer of you until you know beyond a doubt that you are everything to me."

His hand strays back down, and he cups your breast and squeezes gently, massaging your soft, sensitive skin. He nuzzles his lips up against your cheek, and you feel the faint puff of his breath. You're shivering all over with desire.

"I love how your breath quickens when I touch you, how your heart rate increases when I kiss you, how your skin grows hotter when I am near you. I love setting you on fire and watching you burn for me. I love the way my name sounds on your lips when you moan it."

Oh heavens! Heavens! Hearing him talk like this to you is having a stronger effect than you had ever imagined it would. Your fingers twist in his sheets and you bite your lip, trying desperately to stop yourself from impulsively pressing up against him.

Apparently, he can tell the effect he's having on you. "Do you like it?" he whispers against your cheek and you feel his fingers slide over your bare nipple. He pinches your nub softly between his forefinger and thumb and rolls it back and forth, causing waves of sweet sensation. "Do you like being unclad in my bed? Do you like how I look in your gift to me? Do you like my hands on your bare skin? Do you want more?"

You whimper and twist beneath him. "Yes, yes, yes. Data, I do, yes."

He slowly licks the rim of your ear then places his lips to it. "Then more I shall give."

Data adjusts himself, his movements fluid and graceful. Now he's lying between your legs, his stomach pressed against yours, holding his upper body away from you with one strong arm planted on the bed beside your chest. You are shivering helplessly, undone by how gorgeous he looks, your near-naked body pulsing with heat you can't control, every nerve aware of how close and intimate Data's body is to yours.

He locks gazes with you, liquid, golden heat pooling in his eyes with the intensity of his android stare. Without breaking eye contact with you for so much as a fraction of a second, he lowers himself, his tongue slipping from between his lips, and, still looking you straight in the eyes, he licks a slow, scorching path up the swell of your breast and over your throbbing nipple with the flat of his tongue.

You're unable to contain the soft whine that the sensation drags from your lips, as your fingers knot tightly in the sheets to either side of you. Data licks you again, and you can sense him carefully cataloging every single one of your body's natural responses. This time, he drags his tongue slowly up the underside of your breast, circles your nipple tantalizingly, then trails up to your clavicle, which he mouths gently. The faint friction of his bare stomach against yours as he moves has you yearning to press yourself up harder against him, to relieve just a little of the aching pressure causing every one of your nerves to feel like it is on fire.

Data evidently decides he has given your collarbone sufficient attention, for his tongue strays back down your body. Once again, he circles your nipple, teasing you, before nuzzling his face down into the valley of your chest to rub his nose tenderly against your sternum. One of your hands remains knotted in the blankets at your side, but you instinctively lift your other hand to cradle the back of Data's head, your fingers sinking into his thick, dark hair. He rubs his nose back and forth and kisses the very center of your chest. His tongue ventures out to taste you, and you can sense his warm curiosity with every new moment.

Satisfied apparently for the time being, he lifts his head and seems to consider where to explore next, his head tipped slightly to the side. Your hand remains against his cheek, your fingertips in his hair, and you try to keep still despite your trembling, resisting the urge to guide his mouth back down to your chest.

To your immense relief, he chooses that course for himself after a slow moment of deliberation. He uses the tip of his large nose to rub against your nipple, then tilts his head back to use his tongue against your sensitive flesh once again. The first stroke is soft and flat, the texture of him catching lightly against you, causing a slow pulse of sensation. Before you are prepared however, he immediately switches tactics and rapidly flicks the tip of his tongue against you.

The sudden onslaught of pleasurable sensation causes you to arch your back, your thighs squeezing against his hips, your fingers tightening in his hair. "Daaaata," you gasp in a breathy voice, and he makes a soft humming sound in response to his name that vibrates beautifully against your skin.

He runs his hands up and down your sides, stroking your skin and pressing you to himself. "Yes," he murmurs. "Yes, say my name, Y/N. Let me know how much you enjoy me." Before you can respond further, he lowers his lip to your chest and sucks your nipple gently into his warm, wet mouth.

Part of you has been holding back, whether from shyness or some sense of decorum or something else, you're unsure. But the sheer hotness of this moment – your gorgeous android lying on top of you, his hands on your hips, your breast in his mouth – is too much. You writhe beneath him, reaching up and out to wildly pet every part of him you can reach – his arms, his shoulders, his back – while noises of unfiltered happiness and desire and appreciation spill profusely from your lips.

After only a sparse thirty seconds or so, he's fully adjusted the pressure of his lips to the exact right amount for you to enjoy, no doubt accomplished through his ability to analyze your every reaction instantly and calculate what you are enjoying the most. The sensations of his sucking lips combine with the tingling flicks and touches of his tongue, leaving you as little more than human putty in his strong hands. He cups your other breast, using his fingers to gently play with your tender flesh.

"Oh, Data," you whimper into his hair, gripping the messy dark locks tightly, your fingers buried deep. "Data…Data, you beautiful, amazing, sexy android."

He hums in acknowledgement, and the wonderful vibrations run all the way through your topless body.

He can tell when you're starting to become tired and overstimulated. Gently, he releases your nipple from his lips and caresses your other breast with his fingers one last time, then slides his hand down to your hip. You suddenly realize how tired and relaxed you feel, and as the sensations fade, you feel yourself practically melting into the bed. You feel amazingly warm and fuzzy all over, and your breasts still throb pleasantly from all of Data's attention.

You watch through half-hooded eyes as Data carefully removes the body jewelry from himself and tenderly stows it in what you think of as his drawer of treasures – the place where he keeps his Sherlock pipe, his poker cards, his Starfleet medals, and all the other odds and ends that he cherishes the most. You know him well enough to appreciate the honor it is to have something of yours joining those other beloved trinkets. When he's finished, he returns and lies down next to you, resting his head on the pillow beside you. You reach up and pat at his frowsy tangle of curls, smoothing them back down. His eyes are gentle but no longer sensual, signaling that his sexual program has deactivated.

You're still aware that both of you are all but naked, but there's a quiet intimacy about your shared state of undress now instead of that impassioned heat. You shiver slightly, and Data reaches down your body to tug the blankets up over you, leaving you cocooned in soft warmth. He gives you his tiny smile. "I believe it has been an…excellent…birthday."

You stroke his cheek. "It wasn't even my birthday, and I still think it was excellent."

He kisses you, a cute little peck to your lips. "I must thank you for sharing my birthday with me, and also for your thoughtful and thoroughly enjoyable gift."

You peck him back. "Thank you for letting me share it with you. I can't think of anything else in the universe I would have rather done this evening than share my android boyfriend's birthday."

He picks something up from the bed beside you, and you blush as you realize it's your discarded bra. He touches it with brief curiosity then lays it on his bedside table, but then his eyes turn to you, appraising. "Although my personal experience is limited, I have read a colloquialism that when a woman chooses matching undergarments, she is hoping they will be seen. Is this true?"

So he did notice. You can't help your shy dimpling smile. "Well, I don't know if it's true across the board, but yeah, it was true for me tonight."

Data's expression goes infinitely soft. "Then you were hoping for the opportunity to undress with me? Even before I expressed any desire to see you unclad?"

"Yeah, Data, I was." You nod and run your fingers over the back of his hand.

"Hmm," he says. There's wonder in his golden eyes. "Intriguing."

You lay together for a quiet time after that, and you feel like you are nearly drifting off when he speaks again, his voice more solemn than before. "Y/N, do you truly believe that you will never grow tired of either myself or our relationship?"

His words draw you back out of your sleepy haze. You cup his cheek. "Sweetheart, I can't promise I'll always feel the exact same way all the time, but no, I'm not going to 'get tired' of you. And I'm absolutely not going to toss you out like yesterday's trash. Nobody deserves to be treated like that, and you least of all."

He closes his eyes briefly, almost as if it is still hard for him to hope for the truth of what you say. When he opens his eyes again, his gaze is still serious. "Y/N, I have never told you about my prior experiences with romantic relationships."

You prop yourself up on your elbow, giving him your full attention. "And you don't ever have to, if you don't want to."

He considers this for a moment, then nods decisively. "I believe I would like for you to know. Yes, I am certain of it."

He reaches out and twines one lock of your hair around his finger. He plays with it gently as he speaks, and you're struck by what a human gesture it is. "I have told you that at the Academy, I struggled greatly to make connections with my human classmates. Some were simply uncomfortable with the presence of an artificial being, while others behaved in a way towards me that I have since come to realize was cruelty."

His fingers twist round and round the lock of your hair. "In my second year at the Academy, I was invited by one of my classmates who was less afraid of me to attend a party of sorts. Although I was aware that such events happened regularly, I myself had never had the opportunity to attend one, and I was deeply curious by the invitation and so I agreed. I do not know that I could say that I enjoyed myself, but I found the experience intriguing. It was also the first time I had imbibed alcohol, which I found fascinating, despite my inability to become inebriated.

"Partway through the event, a young woman began speaking to me. Replaying the memory, I am quite certain that her behavior would have been considered flirtatious, though at the time I was simply pleased that someone wished to speak to me. I remember that she kept touching me – my arm, my shoulders, my chest. Most humans avoided touching me; it was most interesting."

He pauses briefly. "As the party goers began to disperse, this young woman invited me to accompany her back to her quarters, informing me that her roommate was away studying. I consented and returned with her to her quarters where she proceeded to make her full intentions towards me known. Although I had been activated for five years at that point, I had yet to experience anything of a sexual or romantic nature, and I found myself intrigued by the opportunity she offered me and agreed. I was eager to explore my sexual programming, and I did the best I knew how to please her as well as I could and did everything she requested of me. As best as I could tell, I was successful.

"However, after our coupling, she informed me that she wished for me to leave immediately, and when I required why – seeking to understand if I had offended her in some manner – she refused to explain. I asked if she would ever wish to repeat our intimacy, to which she began to laugh, a reaction I could not reconcile with my question. I saw no cause for humor in any of my words or actions and so inquired what it was that she found humorous."

He releases the lock of your hair. "She told me it was my 'gullibility" that she found so amusing. She then informed me that at the party, she and her friends had been observing me and discussing my android nature. The topic of my sexuality and my anatomy came up and a bet was made that involved the transfer of class credits to anyone in the group who was willing to 'fuck the robot'." The crude word sounds even uglier on Data's gentle lips and all the more harsh for the dead monotone of his voice. "She informed me that she had agree to 'take one for the group' because she needed the credits to pass a critical class and because I was 'decently attractive.' She then told me not to contact her ever again, after which she shut the door in my face."

You can't remember a time in your life when you've wanted to track someone down and beat them to a bloody pulp quite as badly as you do right now. "Oh Data," you say, "oh sweetheart, I'm so sorry that happened to you. What an absolute waste of a human being. I'm so sorry."

He clasps your hand. "I thank you for your concern, but I assure you that I am all right."

From some of the self-depreciating comments he's revealed to you tonight, you're not sure that's entirely true, but you give him the benefit of the doubt.

He continues holding your hand, his thumb rubbing slowly back and forth over your knuckles. "Most recently, several years ago, I became involved in a romantic relationship with a lieutenant aboard the Enterprise. She initially expressed affections for me, and I decided I wished to explore the possibilities of a relationship with her. It was for her that I first developed the romantic subroutine which I have since modified for you."

"What happened?" you ask.

"Our relationship only lasted several days. Although initially she showed great enthusiasm towards me, she quickly became frustrated with my lack of understanding about romance and my inability to express emotion. I was unable to provide her with the emotional satisfaction she desired, and she quickly grew tired of me and initiated the termination of our couplehood several days later."

"Well, she missed out, didn't she?" you say more than a little indignantly, trying to imagine how anyone could be dissatisfied with Data's sweet, attentive, eager-to-learn nature. You snuggle against his chest. "But I guess if she'd had two active brain cells and been smart enough to know just who she'd had, I wouldn't have had the chance to get you all to myself," you tease, rubbing your nose up against his.

He nuzzles you back. "That is indeed a positive outcome from the experience." He goes quiet again, this time for a longer stretch, and the feeling of deep melancholy grows heavier around him again. "I had a third romantic encounter," he says in a very quiet voice, "which took place between the other two. I did, however, make the promise not to reveal the details of that encounter with anyone, which I wish to honor. I will only say that the experience was deeply special to me and the person I shared it with was someone I cared for greatly and respected. I believed the experience to be equally special to the one I shared it with, and I thought I had successfully pleased her and done everything she needed and wanted of me."

He pauses, and there's a weight like gravity in that silence. "Evidently, I was mistaken, for the next time I saw her, she expressed both anger and unhappiness at our encounter and requested that I behave as if it had never happened. We never spoke of it again, and to this day, I do not know what I did wrong to provoke such emotions from her."

You remember the time you'd come to his quarters early for a date and found him sitting at his desk, staring silently at a small blue holographic figure sitting directly before him. He'd turned it off as soon as he saw you and rose to greet you, but you remember the look on his face. As he's speaking, in your heart, you know, though he doesn't need to know that you do. You don't have it in you to feel angry or jealous of her, not knowing how much she clearly meant to Data the few times he's spoken of her to you and knowing what happened to her; you simply feel a deep ache for him.

He is quiet and still for a long moment. "Based on these three encounters, I reached the logical conclusion that I was faulty and that when my partner has received everything from me which they are able, I am…discardable."

You slip your arms around him and pull him close, pressing your face tenderly to his neck. To your slight surprise, you find tears trickling down your cheeks as you hold him. "You're not discardable, Data. And that's not the only logical conclusion. There's also the much more logical conclusion that all three of them were just massive jerks to you."

He cradles you back. "I suppose that is one conclusion that could also be made, though in all three encounters, I was the common denominator. This indicates that the problem most likely lies with me."

"But now you can factor me in," you say. "And I promise I'll never treat you like that, Data."

"Yes," he answers softly, "yes, I believe you are speaking the truth. I do not believe now that you would ever treat me those ways."

You hold each other a while longer, and you are very pleasantly aware of your bodies pressing together under the blankets. But you begin to feel drowsy again and start to push yourself up and away. "I should probably get dressed and head back to my quarters, or I'm going to end up falling asleep right here in your bed."

To your surprise, Data keeps his arms around you, stopping you from pulling away. When you look back at him, there's an devout plaintiveness to his expression. "I fail to see a downside to that possibility," he answers. When you gape at him a little owlishly, he elaborates. "You may stay here with me." He glances at you coyly. "That is, if you desire to. I am not required on the Bridge until morning."

You look down into his earnest face and practically melt back down onto the bed. The two of you cuddle up together: arms wrapped around each other, legs entwined, bare chests pressed close. You sigh deeply and tuck your head under his chin, your breathing slowing peacefully. The bed bounces slightly as Spot jumps up to join you. She makes a couple rotations, then settles between you and Data's legs, her back pressed to Data's shin and her front paws and chin resting on your calf. Everything is warm and peaceful and perfect.

"Happy birthday, Data," you murmur.

He kisses your forehead in response.

Juliana was right. This was exactly what you both needed – this evening of shared trust and sweet new passions – you feel it deep in your soul, and you know that both of you are better for having shared this experience together.

A sudden thought flashes through your mind, and you open an eye with a slight grin. "So Data," you whisper, "what's the story about you streaking some colonists?"

-------------------------------------------------

A/N: Want to see a picture I drew of Data in his body jewelry? You can see it here. Enjoy ;)

Tag List: @catherinemcc1 @colorcodedpeacockquills @black-hats-cats-bats

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#mechanical rose series #my writing #star trek #star trek the next generation #star trek tng #data star trek #lt commander data #data soong #juliana tainer #juliana soong #juliana soong-tainer #data x reader #data x female reader #second person pov

[vintagegeekculture]

David Gerrold is the uncredited co-creator of Star Trek: the Next Generation

He should be listed as the creator of the series alongside Gene Roddenberry. The defining elements of TNG that mark it as distinct from its predecessor were, nearly, all David Gerrold’s ideas.

In very, very early publicity for the series, like Entertainment Tonight’s earliest pieces on TNG, David Gerrold is not just another guy in the writing room; he is treated as a showrunner by the publicity of the series (though that term obviously was not in widespread use in 1987). And this is not just my opinion, either: there’s actually a complaint with the Writer’s Guild that David Gerrold was essentially assigned producer duties, but was not paid as a producer – a suit that Gerrold won to the tune of six figures.

This early piece here in Starlog says that David Gerrold wrote the series Bible for TNG: 

What’s more, many of Next Gen’s unique elements are Gerrold ideas. In David Gerrold’s World of Star Trek essays in the 1970s, which were widely reprinted, Gerrold called for the following changes to Star Trek:

The first officer should lead away missions, not the captain (Gerrold preferred the term “contact team” in the 70s, though he later used the term “away team”)

Since deep space missions are non-violent and require a great deal of time (possibly a decade or more without seeing a starbase), families should live on the ship alongside the crew.

The Klingons will, probably in the future, become allies of the Federation, and we may see a Klingon serve in Starfleet. Gerrold’s phrasing was “today’s foes are tomorrow’s allies.”

If families serve on a ship, it therefore stands to reason that mental health would be significant, and an important officer would be a ship’s therapist or counselor, who would be in on meetings and consulted. 

To be clear, Gerrold’s essays were not obscure little memos in Paramount. They were widely read in the fandom world. If you’re old like me, you probably remember reading them back in the day.

David Gerrold had a lot of other ideas that were only partially used. For example, he believed fashion would be totally intersex (which explained why, in early TNG episodes, there were men in miniskirts), and that homosexuality would be widely accepted in the future (in fact, Gerrold wrote an AIDS-analogue episode that was rejected that may be one of the most famous unmade episodes of TNG’s first season, which would have had gays in Starfleet as early as Next Gen season one). “Blood and Fire” is to TNG what Ellison’s “Perils of the City” is to the original series, better known as a script and lore. 

Not all of these ideas were that progressive. Some were kinda…loopy.  David Gerrold also wanted dolphins and whales to be a part of the crew, used as navigators, in sections set aside as their own tanks. Like the idea that the captain would only make decisions with his therapist beside him on the bridge, talking dolphin crewmembers seems to be the idea that dates TNG most firmly to the 1980s. You can kinda tell that Gerrold lived his whole life in California. 

One character in particular was David Gerrold’s idea above all else: Lieutenant Worf. Here’s a publicity image from early TNG. Notice anyone who’s missing? Worf was not anything other than a background character, until at Gerrold’s insistence, he was elevated in the script. 

Gene Roddenberry in particular did not like Worf as a main character (as a background bit, that’s fine), but Gerrold guided him into a main character role.

To be clear, not every TNG idea was Gerrold’s. No show is ever just the vision of one person. The holodeck was mentioned in Gene Roddenberry’s original proposal for the original series in 1964, but they only had the ability to show it come the animated series in the 70s (as all true trekkies know, the animated series, not TNG, introduced the holodeck). Gene L. Coon made many additions to Trek lore, but that one was all Roddenberry’s. Emergency Saucer Separation also was mentioned in the original series as well, as an emergency tactic. The Q were the most Gene Roddenberry idea of all: a godlike alien race that puts mankind on trial for barbarism (and to his credit, the original writing room thought he wouldn’t work). 

Data actually came from an unaired Roddenberry pilot about a robot searching for his creator who becomes best friends with a human engineer, the Quaestor Tapes (in fact, the robot there actually says “I am fully functional” and I almost fell out of my chair). Troi and Riker are essentially reskins of Ilia and Decker from Star Trek the Motion Picture. Andrew Probert created the Ferengi, the look of the TNG Enterprise, and the idea that the bridge is more of a “hangout spot” due to automation, since the operation of the ship could be counted on to work without someone manning stations like in a submarine. Love him or hate him, the Borg were mostly producer Maurice Hurley’s idea. 

Gerrold left after the first season, but don’t feel bad about Gerrold, though. It feels like every other superhero project draws from his Man Who Folded Himself, about a guy who time travels so often that he splits the timeline over and over and interacts with endless variations of himself. His alien invasion series, War Against the Cthorr, was fascinating in that it was an alien invasion that is ecological in nature, with a hostile alien ecosystem that replaces our own. In other words, he is a great writer independent of Trek and it rubs me the wrong way people call him the “tribble guy” still. And he is still very much alive, although, tragically, he has succumbed to being extremely online. 

#tng #star trek #next generation

[tinderbox210]

Another Spocklaan AU idea:

It's basically a "What if La'an's family never boarded the SS Puget Sound?" AU.

It's interesting to think about how different La'an's life would be if her family didn't encounter the Gorn, how different La'an as a person would grow up to be from the character we've come to know. Would she still develop a similar personality and skill set? Would she still end up joining Starfleet or do security things or do something entirely different? Maybe she would become a singer at a bar on a random Starbase and one day stumble across a lonely half-Vulcan sitting in the audience?

Fantastic, now this AU idea is turning into 2 different ideas... but back to the original idea:

So prime La'an wakes up in an alternative reality in which her family is alive and she doesn't know how or why, but she still has her memories. Could be time travel shenanigans, could be another Boltzman brain situation...

Btw I still headcanon Lewis Tan as adult Manu, and I think maybe Ming-Na Wen and Robert Carlyle as the parents? (Wen needs to be in every franchise somehow, she already was in Star Wars so next stop should be the Enterprise).

At first, this new reality looks like a dream come true despite La'an living a very different life from what she's used to. She never got saved by Una and therefor never joined Starfleet. It would be interesting to learn more about her family and explore her struggles with peoples' prejudices against augments in this new setting.

Things start to turn south when she finds out that the Gorn are just as much a threat in this reality as in the prime timeline, attacking one colony after another while the Federation is still reeling from the Klingon war.

It also turns out that, with La'an and her special knowledge of the Gorn missing, the Enterprise ended up being destoryed during that first confrontation with the Gorn (the one from "Memento Mori") 😱 and with the flagship of the fleet gone, Starfleet struggles even more with fighting off the advances of the Hegemony into Federation space.

So La'an has to deal with the fact that while she got her old family back, her new family is gone and that if she stays here, she would condemn everyone on the Enterprise to their gruesome fate.

Everyone I say? Actually no, there's one person left.

While investigating what happened to the Enterprise (because that's still her thing), La'an discovers that one crew member left the ship months before the disaster and that would be Spock.

In this alternative reality Spock left the Enterprise to live with T'Pring on Vulcan when they got engaged - which turned out a big mistake and he's very unhappy with his life and that he had to give up his Starfleet career (they're basically one step away from divorce).

La'an gains Spock's trust and convinces him that she's telling the truth about the timeline being all messed up by bringing up Michael (the DISCO stuff happened in this reality too) and performing another mind meld so that he can see her memories from the original timeline. While working together to figure out what happened to La'an, they start to have feelings for each other.

In the end La'an has to make the tough choice between staying in the new reality with her original family and a Spock she's fallen in love with or return to the prime timeline to be with her surrogate family and a Spock who's not romantically available - allthewhile the Gorn are closing in on her parents' colony and threaten to kill everyone she cares about once more...

#star trek: strange new worlds #snw au #spocklaan #spocklaan au #la'an x spock #spock x la'an #la'an noonien singh #spock #has the potential to become a story #but probably not

[ozcarr]

You ever get really bored and just make up a little group of campy sci-fi guys for funzies?

Anyway, give it up for the crew of Star Cruiser 99. I made up extensive lore for them between work calls, under the cut.

When the entire captain’s annex mysteriously broke off vacation liner Star Cruiser 99, several randomly assigned emergency away teams were sent out do a perimeter of the area, one of which was headed by security officer Gillian Vega. Vega’s team strays a little too far from the 99’s charted path while exploring separated annex debris and ends up encountering some sort of space anomaly or wormhole because it’s a genre staple! They lose contact and tracking on their mothership, but find evidence of an escape pod launch from captains annex and are lead to believe the captain may be close, so they decide to continue their recovery mission — but now they’re stuck in uncharted space, the trail is running cold, and they have no way home.

Vega is smart and good at her job… but just transferred from a very human-majority quadrant of the galaxy and is still experiencing an adjustment period. She dreams of captaining her own explatory space vessel one day and thinks being the leader of the away team that recovers the captain of the 99 would fast-track her career. But as the days turn into weeks, she finds herself really growing into her small-crew-acting-captian position. And she starts to sort of hope that they don't find the captain. Which makes her feel really guilty. Which distracts her from the rest of the crew’s weird dynamics. It's a whole thing.

Nobody really gets Thomas from the security team and that's okay! He doesnt mind really. He's telepathic so he can read everyone's thoughts (excluding Killgore), but he doesn't usually comment on other people's internal monologs. Really good listener. He knows something is going on between Phoebe and Kurzweil but there’s inconsistencies in their memories and Thomas can’t really get a read what their relationship is.

Phoebe V ("V" is pronounced "Five") is an engineer and was really popular on the 99 before The Incident. She's always fiending for gossip, an has been trying to get closer to Thomas (everyone assumes it’s because she assumes he has dirt on everyone, but is it about something else?) Now that she's been stuck in close proximity with the same 4 people for weeks... she's going a little stir-crazy and everyone can tell.

Doctor Killgore is almost cartoonishly evil and nobody except Vega seems to picking up on it. He's always saying bond villain type shit, and Vega's always like "guys I think Killgore might actually be dangerous." And everyone else just brushes it off like "he's obviously joking about killing us! What, you don't think he's capable of humor or something? Wow Vega, examine your biases..."

Killgore doesn't talk about his life before the 99 which leaves Vega with a lot of questions, namely "w...why is he called that", "why would a medical droid look like that", and "who's vitals are being displayed on that heart monitor?"

Kurzweil works in passenger services and was hired at a Starbase recruitment fair 2 weeks before The Incident. He only volunteered for the away mission in hopes it would earn him some respect among his peers. Even before the mission, he was prone to accidents and he keeps putting himself in dangerous situations which almost always end in head trauma — much to Killgore's thinly-veiled delight.

His species must be extremely resilient because he's always able to walk it off after an hour of downtime in the shuttle's back medical room (albeit with some memory loss). His accidents are seemingly random but now Vega is starting to notice patterns and is beginning to think something nefarious is afoot, whether Kurzweil knows it or not.

I don’t want to fully elaborate what’s going on because… I’m starting to think this would make a fun little mystery visual novel. But I don’t currently have the skills or patience to pull that off. So I’ll just throw this on the back burner to simmer while I decide if perusing it’s worth the effort haha.

#drawings that violate the Geneva Conventions but I don’t give a shit #a lot of them are named after/loosely based on songs but I will not elaborate further #oc #character design #scifi #alien #robot #Star cruiser 99 #my art

[lenievi]

12 Days of Spones - Day 1 - beginnings

Firsts

The first time McCoy met Spock, he barely remembered him. McCoy stepped down from the transporter pad, and Jim took him by his arm, leading him away to show him the ship, waving his hand at the other officer in the room with a quick “This is Mister Spock.”

The first time McCoy said anything to Spock was a week later. He asked him to pass the salt.

The first time they argued was about McCoy's apparent excessive emotional reaction to a roasted goose they got served during the shore leave on Starbase Four. When McCoy pointed out that Jim was excited about the dish too, Spock looked at them with something akin to disgust and said he’d never understand the human fondness for something as necessary for survival as food.

The first time Spock visited McCoy’s quarters, he stated that the lack of decor showed a lack of personality. McCoy demanded to see Spock’s quarters in return and was left speechless by the ostentatious red curtains and abundant decorations including a huge ax. He’d like to talk to the one who spread that Vulcan decor was spartan.

The first time Spock was injured, McCoy shouted at him for stupidly endangering his life while being selfishly pleased that Spock would step in front of someone else’s fist originally aimed at McCoy’s face.

The first time they got stuck on a planet was also the first time McCoy envied Vulcans their ability to regulate body temperature. It was the first time they shared body heat.

The first time McCoy offered Spock alcohol, Spock refused.

The first time Spock accepted McCoy’s offer for a drink, McCoy couldn't believe his ears. Spock told him it was expected since his hearing was inferior, and he was getting old.

The first time they kissed, it was a surprise to both of them. They avoided each other for nine days.

The first time Spock went missing, Jim had to relieve him from duty and restrict him to his quarters. Later, McCoy wondered why did he think Jim wouldn’t do everything he could to bring Spock back.

The first time they had sex was after McCoy had almost died. Spock avoided him for three weeks.

The first time they had sex, McCoy woke up alone. It was the first time he realized that his feelings for Spock might be more serious than he thought.

The first time Spock spent the night was a year and a half later. He kissed McCoy good morning and told him he’d give him a blade he could put on his bare walls. McCoy didn’t talk to him for a day.

The first time McCoy decorated his quarters with a blade from Spock was after he’d learned it was an ancient symbol of the beginning of courtship.

When Spock saw the blade above the bed, his lips softened into a smile. He cupped McCoy’s face, and kissed him.

It was the first time both of them were sure of the other’s feelings.

#12daysofspones #spones #leonard mccoy #spock #star trek tos #my writing #i had an idea. it's perhaps a silly idea but here it is #sleep deprivation is weird #impulse posting this because i probably wouldn't later lol #i mentioned snowstorm. it's winter flavoured... #every day is a new beginning. everything is a new beginning~

[smallblueandloud]

FINALLY getting around to jotting down this SNW concept i've had rattling around in my brain for days now. the worldbuilding compels me!

“The malfunctions have hit a critical system,” says Pike. “They’re diverting Enterprise and all other nearby ships to assist as much as we can.” Una frowns. “Our replicators aren’t nearly enough--” “It’s not the replicators,” says Pike. “It’s the universal translator.” Erica’s heart drops. For all of the pain that the translator’s caused in her life, it’s one of the systems at the core of the Federation. She’s never imagined it failing -- she’s never had to. “Fluency in Federation Standard is required of Starfleet officers, isn’t it?” asks Chapel, glancing around. “I know that the starbase has civilians, but surely they have enough Starfleet to keep the place running?” “The translators employed on that station must be losing their minds,” adds Erica, wincing in sympathy. At the end of the table, Uhura snorts. They all turn to look at her. “Is something funny?” asks Una. Uhura says, “Oh, it’s just-- there’s no translators employed on Starbase ACD. Starfleet doesn’t employ translators at all.” She stifles another giggle at their incredulous looks. “It’s not funny at all. The Terran Linguistics board-- even the department of Communications at the Academy. They’ve been warning Command about the danger of this for decades.” “Why wouldn’t they hire translators?” asks Dr. M’Benga. “Because they always assumed that starbases would have enough of a bilingual population that it wouldn’t matter,” says Uhura. She shakes her head. “It’s not funny at all,” she repeats, quietly. Pike and Una exchange a look. Pike asks, “What would you suggest we do, Lieutenant?” Uhura shrugs, her face wry. “Find every bilingual we have on this crew,” she says. “Find every bilingual in Starfleet.” She glances at Spock. “And get Amanda Grayson on a shuttle.”

#we're using the fanon that amanda is a linguist on the cutting edge of universal translator research #why? cause it's fun and sexy #star trek #snw #erica ortegas #nyota uhura #sb and l rambles #sb and l is writing #i don't know where this fic is going to go but it is very satisfying to write #universal translator funtimes

[curator-on-ao3]

For the first sentences asks (I know it's like, 3):

"I don't know what to say, but I'm going to want you till the stars evaporate - we're only here for just a moment in the light, one day it shines for us the next we're in the night. So say the word and I'll be running back to find you, a thousand armies won't stop me I'll break through. I'll soar the endless skies for only one sight of your starlight."

~ enterprise-come-in 🖖

The last note of the lyric seems to linger, then the viewscreen fades to black.

Chris recognizes the song. It’s an old one called “Starlight,” an apt choice for the person who lit his life for decades before he found out she could actually illuminate, a bright red glow of healing and hope that he had tried to forget on Starbase Eleven, those days and weeks and months when she wasn’t where she said she would be — impossible because Una never, ever, wasn’t where she said she would be — which meant something was terribly wrong.

But she purportedly sent him this message, singing, and the illusion of Vina by his side — not the real Vina, not the woman so disgusted by her own infirmities that she’s disgusted by his, too — tilts her head, blonde hair shining in the artificial light, voice echoing off the cave walls. “What do you think?”

Frustration balls the illusion of Chris’ fists. “I think it’s another trick. I think our keepers — Do you hear me? Do you hear how this isn’t going to work? — I think they want me to believe this is a real message from the real Una. But it’s not. Our keepers pulled the information from my mind that Una loves to sing, that I love to hear her sing, but that message wasn’t the real Una.”

The illusion of Vina smiles, a twisted imitation of a real smile’s curved lips and raised cheeks, repulsive in a way the real Vina isn’t, even if she believes herself to be, believes him to be also now that he’s injured. “You’re right.”

It’s as if the battery that keeps his heart beating turns to acid and he’s cold, so cold, bitter realization causing the illusion of his fists to ball up even tighter, so tight the illusion of his fingernails dig into the illusion of his palms. “What did you do to her?”

The illusion of Vina hums, some Gilbert and Sullivan song, and she twirls, one hand in the air as if conducting an orchestra, and the viewscreen is brought to life again, a video feed of Una within the planet’s cave network, a Talosian punishment not by fire — those must be for him, for his expectation of hell — but by a crowd of what look like humans and the humans are kicking her, punching her, shouting the cruel names she was called as a child. She defends herself, arms up to block the worst of the blows, probably saving her energy by not fighting back with her full abilities or by not forming the base emotions that, though exhausting, would dissolve the illusions.

Yet Chris’ anger that threatens to choke him — pure rage toward the abuse she’s enduring — confirms that this version of Una is absolutely real.

“What you’re seeing,” his base emotion causes the illusion of Vina to lose cohesion, a disembodied Talosian voice speaking instead to an immobilized Chris in his support chair, “is yet another attempt to break the female you call Number One. A uniquely willful creature. We’ve had her for almost half a year, yet she refuses to cooperate or even to speak to us except to insist that she must go to Starbase Eleven to see you. We don’t want to kill her, yet she has been most frustrating.”

The viewscreen goes dark.

And pieces of the mental puzzle snap into place. Why Una went radio silent. Why Spock came to the starbase instead of Una. Maybe even why Spock brought him here. Spock must have known the Talosians had captured Una and there was no other way to get to the planet — to get Chris to the planet — except to risk mutiny.

“We first showed you an illusion of her,” a Talosian steps in, mental communication, footsteps and the rustle of long robes the only sound, “to determine if your feelings for her remain the same.”

Chris forces his anger away enough to regain his own illusion, to stand tall, to speak: “Why?”

The Talosian’s smile is identical to the twisted one from the illusion of Vina.

And Chris knows.

“You never gave up, did you?” He’s learned the facility these last few weeks, identified Talosian weaknesses he can’t exploit by himself but could with Una’s help. “You wanted an Adam and Eve and were willing to kidnap both of us — manipulating Spock along the way — to get us.”

There’s a nod. “You will explain to her the futility of fighting us. You will tell her how your time here has been pleasant, how her time here could be pleasant as well. You both will assist us in identifying a suitable partner for Vina. These are our eminently reasonable demands.”

Chris can do that.

He can reassure Una that it’s not futile to fight the Talosians.

He can tell her how a veneer of pleasantness has allowed him to figure out a plan of escape that he’s sure they can accomplish together.

He can do what he should have done in the first place and take Vina with them, get Vina to a place where Vina can get help undoing the damage the Talosians have done to her mind, to her sense of self-worth.

“I agree.” Chris’ chest swells with truth, hope.

Veins on the Talosian’s head bulge and a cave wall slides open like a door.

And Una is there, a bloody gash across her forehead, her hair tangled and half-wild, what’s left of her Starfleet uniform caked with dried blood and cave dirt, and Chris lets hatred for the Talosians flood his mind, reassurance that what he’s seeing is absolutely real.

“Chris.” There’s a twitching by Una’s eyes, the effort of employing a base emotion to ensure reality.

And he has his support chair flash once for yes, even though she didn’t ask, even though she knows it’s him, but there’s no other way for him to communicate — yet, she said she was working on that algorithm the last time they spoke — and, if he could, he would dance, he would sing the way she does whether she’s an illusion or real, a triumphant song of yes, yes, yes, because she’s real and she’s safe and they’re going to get out of here, he’s sure of it.

[for the “send me a sentence and I’ll write the next five” ask game, for which the rules of the ask game are clearly being flouted by all concerned.]

✨this story now also on AO3✨

#five sentences ask game #i love asks #christopher pike #una chin riley #number one #star trek strange new worlds #star trek the original series #this is probably the easiest i have ever let spock off for the menagerie #can be read as romantic or platonic #pikeuna #pikeone #that got sort of heavy #blood #disability #perseverance #save vina #enterprise-come-in

[savlina]

This is Sofia “Nyx” Olkhovskaya. She was a philanthropist, always ready to help anyone. Too bad she's gonna get killed) the best intro

The quality is a little eaten up, so it’s better to click on the image

personality, character

•It's difficult to give her an exact personality type. She is a multifaceted person who combines incompatible things. She can change herself or adapt to any situation for the best outcome. But some features can be distinguished

•Philanthropist

•Skeptic

•He says almost nothing to on himself

•Nonconformist

•Alexithymia

•Empath

•Polymath person

•Sapiosexual

•Workaholic

•Overthinking

appearance

Heterochromia (right eye blue, left eye brown);

Earlobes are not pierced

There are two tattoos

Athletic build

There are a few prominent scars (shown here)

Nyx walks a bit clumsily. She experiences imbalance in her body, which causes her to sometimes lean in different directions. hortunately it's almost imperceptible.

Titanium knee prosthesis

peculiarities

•Doesn't know how to cook (that is, she knows how to cook basic things, but she doesn't know any culinary dishes. She doesn't see it in that sense. Why waste time when you can go eat in a good establishment where professionals will take care of you.

•Since she thinks more globally than others, she can sometimes tell her comrades that their problems are trivial and easily solved. Some people take offense to this. She understands this and tries to approach this issue from a different angle.

•Sometimes she overdoes it, works too much. She may not eat for days, not see friends, working only on her own affairs.

•She doesn't allow other people to help her. In any situation, she always tries to cope on her own, but of course there are cases when she cannot do without help.

•Sometimes she falls into a trance, thinking about philosophical questions. She begins to think about the meaning of life, the purpose of man in the world, the nature of reality and other deep topics. She immerses herself in her reflections and forgets herself in them for a long time. Such moments take her to a kind of state of ecstasy, where she is completely immersed in her thoughts and ideas. She ends up staring at the ceiling for hours.

•she knows German and Russian, but does not indicate this in her documents.

•The only thing that can scare her: this loss of her identity; injustice; legends about the magneto shakhtinsky region(in Russia)

•You can rarely see her wearing tight-fitting clothes. For her, comfort comes first. Even at social events, she prefers a suit. She can wear a dress only if she is personally asked to do so by the inviter. There is a joke in her inner circle that she won’t even wear a dress to a wedding (some even bet money on it). Sophie usually answers - There will be no wedding. Never.

interests

•One of her strangest hobbies is gaslighting. She likes to watch them get cornered and contradict themselves. Of course, she doesn't do that with everyone, she chooses people with a stable psyche and a good sense of humor.

•People's eyes fascinate and captivate Nyx. She can't even realize that she's been staring into someone's eyes for too long and has lost track of the conversation.

•Chess. if they can't resolve a dispute with someone (which happens very rarely), she always suggests a game of chess.

•Auto racing. Tries to attend all F1 races. She also loves coming to the 24 Heures du Mans.

•Snowboarding

•Table tennis (also known as ping-pong)

•Cybersport

•Camping

•Plays the piano

•Archery

•Rides a motorcycle well. In the past, she participated many times in underground competitions between her people

•Astronomy (and she can stare at the night sky for hours)

•She is fascinated by physics. When she has the time, she attends lectures and keeps up with scientific discoveries. Visited: ITER; Large Hadron Collider; British polar station Halley VI; Starbase first launch of Starship.

•Playing cards with a cheat

•Collecting antique weapons

•Loves to watch space launches of rockets, satellites, and spaceships.

•She almost never sits on SNS. She learns all the news either from her journalist friends or sometimes she can go to verified news sites. But the only place she can afford to drown for a few hours is Twitch

•Loves movies based on true events and where natural disasters are present.

•Preferred book genres: scientific literature, classics.

•Her musical tastes include jazz and 19th century classical music. Loves orchestras and solo piano playing. Favorite composer: Ludovico Einaudi.

additional income

•Second business [Veterinary clinic, grooming salon, pet store]. The owners are Sofia and Alexandra (who is also a good friend of Sofia). Sofia: co-founder, shareholder. Alexandra: co-founder, CEO

•Programmer (Sometimes a friend Sofia who is very knowledgeable in this area, might give her a couple of errands at Sophie's request, just for a change so that Sophie doesn't forget her programming skills)

#sofia nyx #cod oc #Sofia cod #nyx cod #cod mwiii #Sofia Nyx Olkhovskaya #call of duty #task force 141 #tundra

[veryace-ficrecs]

Hi! Do you think you could do some good longfic? I dont mind fandom or pairing but only completed ones please!!

Absolutely! This was harder then I thought it would be, I found out that you can't filter word count on bookmarks doing this!

Here are some:

LongFic Recs

I Decided to classify "longfic" as fics between 40,000 and 100,000 words. Obviously someones personal definition of long will change but I thought this was a good range! Enjoy!

Star Trek:

On A Planet Far Far Away by blancanieve - Not Rated

Words: 40,636

Jim’s mother is spending her shore leave with Jim and Bones on board Enterprise. On their flight back to the ship after picking her up at Starbase 9, the three are caught in a sudden massive ion storm. Thrown completely off course, Jim makes an emergency landing on an unknown planet populated with huge, vicious, prehistoric beasts. Sheltering inside the downed shuttle, the three must figure out how to stay alive until they are rescued or can get themselves off the planet.

My Captain by kcscribbler - Rated T

Words: 45,091

Five reasons why the crew of the Enterprise would follow James T. Kirk to Hell and back, and one reason why he would do the same.

Ransom by blancanieve - Not Rated

Words: 57,399

Jim’s brother, Commander Sam Kirk, is kidnapped on his way to work. The Admiralty sends Enterprise to Deneva to find and rescue Sam.

Another Life by LullabyKnell - Rated T

Words: 61,865

In one moment, James T. Kirk is the acting captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise, on his way home to Earth after stopping the Narada. In the next moment, without explanation, James T. Kirk is an Academy cadet on academic probation again, barely a day before Nero will destroy Vulcan. He dares himself to do better. And with a planet on the line and no proof but his own memories, he knows that "better" means he'll need some help.

Supernatural:

Memories Bring Back Memories (Bring Back You) by sobsicles - Rated E

Words: 66,660

When he wakes, he has no idea who he is. Not his name, what he looks like, or why he’s flat on his back, staring up at the stars littering the night sky. The first thing he learns about himself is that he has shitty instincts, especially if his first one is to protect the blue-eyed man currently stabbing someone in the face. Or, the story where two strangers can’t agree on much and know even less, but they’re both fairly certain that they’re in love.

Lost in Time by drmcbones - Rated T

Words: 104,499

Castiel is alone after the events of The Song Remains the Same, left to make his own way back to the present from 1978. But the angel is playing wounded, and his power over time is not as precise as it once was. It is all he can do to cling to the one thread that will keep him from getting lost: Dean Winchester's timeline. He just ends up seeing more of it than he ever expected to, and it affects him in ways he never thought possible.

Wild by Castielslostwings - Rated E

Words: 67,990

Castiel and Dean meet for the first time on a plane ride out of Nowhere, Alaska. Castiel’s headed home after an impulsive solo vacation and Dean, a hardened Alaskan native, is just trying to get out of the impossibly small town he grew up in that’s got nothing left to offer him. They forge an instant connection over Dean’s flying anxiety and whiskey, a meet-cute that has all the makings of a rom-com with a sickeningly sweet happy ending. That is, until their plane explodes in mid-air, crashing headlong into the Alaskan wilderness and killing everyone on board save for Dean and Castiel. When no rescue shows up to save them, the two men are forced to make some tough decisions. To make it home alive they’ll have to trust each other and find faith neither of them has ever really wanted. Will they survive or succumb to the unforgiving mountain wilderness? And will their journey tear them apart… or bring them closer together?

The Martian:

Blue Horizon by Alexandra926 - Not Rated

Words: 67,890

Meet Mark Watney, left behind on Mars. Meet Mindy Park, left behind on Earth.

DND:Honor Among Thieves:

Untranslatable Shadows by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels - Rated E

Words: 42,394

There's only one thing worse than having to make your way through a booby-trapped dungeon, and that's making your way through a booby-trapped dungeon with Xenk Yendar. Unfortunately, that's exactly what Ed has to do to save the soul of his best friend. And extra unfortunately... Xenk might not even be the worst part of this whole thing. Nobody tell him.

Ted Lasso:

number four was always you by thefaceofno - Rated T

Words: 93,423

Ted’s phone rings. He looks away from the window, where he was watching the tree sway in the wind, to see Beard’s face splashed over his phone screen. He thinks about not answering, but if he doesn’t answer then all he’ll have done today is run to CostCo for no reason. He doesn’t need eight pounds of almonds, but he has eight pounds of almonds. a.k.a. the post s3 fix-it where Ted does some intense mental healing.

#veryace asks #supernatural fic rec #dnd hat fic recs #ted lasso fic rec #star trek fic rec #long fic #ao3 fic recs #fanfic recs #ao3

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Grey 35

First / Previous / Next

Fen looked at the racks and racks of clothes in the store and sighed.

When Northern said that Fen 'owed her' she had no idea that part of paying that back was going... shopping.

Starbase Picaresque was an old, old station. Built around first contact with the K'laxi, it had undergone many different iterations. A science station, a seat of colonial government and even a bullwark in a few wars, these days it lead a much more... touristy life. Fine dining, shopping, and all inclusive entertainment were what it was known for these days. Out on the border between human and k'laxi space it was also where the closest Gate to human space was.

Such a nexus naturally lent itself to a comingling of sapients. When it was just the humans and k'alxi, there was an unusually high amount of integration. These days many different peoples call this place home, though most of them are here to work at all the different venues that are hosted.

Northern loved clothing. Fen had no idea when she first signed on because she packed so lightly, but as they settled and continued to work together, Northern's clothing hobby grew. Fen was much more of a practical, hard wearing clothes person, so this was a new experience for her.

Zhe was more interested than Fen was, and Picaresque had more than ample supplies of haute k'laxi fashion, so both of them were able to meander from store to store, eyeing outfits that would have made Fen's eyes water at the price when she lived at home.

Northern came out of the dressing room clad head to toe in a ball gown made of iridescent feathers. Fen had no idea what animal produced them, or even if the animal was real, but she shone when she walked, and as she spun, the long dress flashed and sparkled. "What do you think?"

"It's very... bright" Fen squinted as Northern spun again."

"Eeee, it's amazing Northern! Are you going to get it?" Zhe's tail swished as she squealed in joy.

"I don't know. I love it, but when would I wear it? It's not like we go out to dinner very often."

"We'll just have to start going out more, that's all!" Zhe said. She was carrying two or three bags of her own. She had already purchased two outfits and three pairs of shoes.

As the women talked logistics of how to use luxury gowns, Fen looked longingly towards the exit. As she did, she noticed a commotion outside.

There were a group of 5 women talking and gesturing animatedly. "Come on Meredith! I've heard of this place! They're supposedly the best in the outer colony worlds!" One of the woman, with long brown hair pointed at the store Fen was dying of boredom in.

"All right Emery, let's go see what they have and if it can even compare to Ganymede." said the woman in the center of the group. All of them wore similar outfits - uniforms really - though the young woman in the middle was wearing jewelry that was much more expensive. Fen had an eye for jewelry. Even growing up she was able to tell the cheap stuff from the expensive. It gave her a leg up when people asked her about stuff 'they found.'

The women poured into the shop and started talking all at once. Immediately Fen could smell the alcohol. If it was just another wine-soaked party it was one of a higher class. Stores like this tended to cater to people who spent a yearly salary on one outfit. Northern walked over to Fen and watched them, a robotic tailor shuffling after her and trying to fit the dress while she was still wearing it. "Who are those people, Fen?"

Fen shook her head. "Just some group of rich women day drinking I think. They have Sol accents. Probably out on a girl's weekend or something. The one in the middle is wearing very expensive jewelry though, check out that necklace she has on. That sapphire could probably buy a frigate."

Northern narrowed her eyes as she watched them stagger around the store. "Shit." She grabbed Fen by the shoulders and turned her around and marched her back to Zhe. "We gotta go. Now."

"What? Why?" Zhe was halfway dressed into a similar gown as Northern, but with a more k'laxi flare. Another tailor kept weaving as Zhe moved around.

"That's the Empress." Northern hissed.

Fen turned back to look at them. "Don't look at them!" Northern's voice rose. Fen turned back. "What? Her? The rich girl with the short hair?"

Northern nodded vigorously. "I'd bet anything that's her."

"Zhe peered around Northern. "Who is with her?"

"Some kind of honor guard or something. They probably are all super soldiers or something."

Zhe's tail flicked. "Are you sure? They look like party girls. They also look drunk."

"What?" As Northern turned to look at them again, she saw one of them taking a large drink from an unmarked bottle. The drinker passed it to the Empress who took a healthy belt of the beverage as well. "What the fuck?"

"Ancestors look at that dress! It's unbelievable!" Before they could react, the women came up to Fen and Northern and Zhe.

"Did you get that here?"

"What are those feathers?"

"Is that custom? It fits you so well!"

"Do you want to go shopping with us?"

Fen blinked. "W-what?"

One of the women nodded. She had hair that was half shaved and te rest combed up. She looked very rakish. "You three are cute, and you clearly have good taste. Well, except your bodyguard here-" she pointed at Fen "-but I won't hold that against you. Come shop and drink with us. My name is Alina, and this is is Kerry, and this is Emery, this is Tina she's Meredith." Alina pointed to Meredith, who was getting fitted for a dress by now.

"Uh, sure, okay." Fen said. Northern elbowed her in the ribs.

"Fancy! Come on. Meredith says she knows of the best place to get dinner. We were on our way there when we saw this place."

The ladies swarm Meredith while she gets fitted, offering suggestions and compliments. Northern crowds close to Fen. "Why did you say yes?" she hissed.

"I-I... don't know. If she's the Empress, maybe we should get to know her better."

"Fen you have an Empress Nanite package. Who knows what happens if you two get together. Who even knows if she still has hers. What do you think will happen if she finds out you have Nanites?"

Whatever happens, it will be interesting

Ugh, quite you. She thinks. "We're just being polite. We'll go out to dinner, get the bill picked up by the Empress of Sol, and be on our way. It'll be an experience. A story we'll tell over drinks."

"Also, she's pretty cute" Zhe adds, back in her regular clothes. "You think she's single?" She gasps "Do you think she likes k'laxi?" Her fur ripples a blush "Do you think she'll like me?"

"Easy there Zhe. Don't go trying to sleep with the Empress of Sol just yet. You haven't even met her officially." Northern laughs. "Though, it would be perfect if the Empress wound up dating a k'laxi. They are notoriously... xenophobic these days." She shrugs her shoulders. "You know what? Fine. We'll go to dinner and talk to them. It looks like only two of them are armed, and it's just concealed pistols. Heavy weapons aren't allowed on Picaresque anyway, so there is only so much damage they can do. She must be here unofficially because nobody had made any changes or attempts to bow and scrape."

"What?" Zhe looks confused.

"Zhe, if she's the Empress, then she should have like-" Northern gestures weakly "- a whole flotilla with her. Dreadnaughts, Super Dreadnaughts, honor guard, battalions of soldiers, nobles, all that kind of stuff. Just her and 4 ladies getting day drunk while shopping isn't very... imperial. Maybe she's just here quietly to try and not be Empress for a little while."

"So we should not admit to recognizing her?"

"Nah, we're just going to act like she's a normal ultra rich person with some friends."

"Northern, if you recognized her, surely others did?" Fen watches them continue to try on clothes, piling their purchases on top of the patient arms of another tailor bot.

"Maybe. But I imagine that half of the recognition people would have is of the pomp, not the person. By herself, she's just another young woman. I bet she isn't as recognized as you think. Also, anyone who does recognize her is probably worried about what would happen if they pointed it out. Her mother was... notorious about that kind of thing."

"What kind of thing?" Zhe looks up at Northern.

Northern makes an old gesture. She sticks out her thumb and draws it across her neck.

"Oh."

"Yeah, so. watch yourselves around her. She might be nice... or she might be nice until we say something she doesn't like." Northern frowns slightly. "I dont' like it."

They exit the store and stand around while Meredith and her crew finishes shopping. They come out a quarter hour later with almost as many bags as Zhe and Northern have. "Come on, it's this way" Alia signals as they start walking.

She leads them down the promenade towards the common area in the front. In Picaresque, the common is a large garden with a unique blend of Earth and K'laxi plants. There are subtle barriers to keep the Earth plants from taking over, but it all looks very natural and integrated. At Meredith's direction, Alina leads them towards a very elegant looking restaurant at the edge of the common. Fully half of the restaurant is in the common, open tables and booths interspersed among the plants, trees and water of the common. Alina and... Kerry heads up to the maître d' and speak to him in a low voice. Kerry gestures back towards the group and his eyes widen in surprise. He quickly nods and snaps his fingers.

Out of seemingly nowhere, three servers appear carrying a large table already set with a white linen tablecloth. They bring it out to a corner of the restaurant and slide the already existing tables and chairs out of the way. The evening is young and the restaurant isn't full, but they do have to shoo a few guests away towards another part of the restaurant. The maître d' clucking apologetically at them as they're settled elsewhere.

Before any time at all passes, the table is set with seats and table service for everyone. As they sit, the sommelier appears with a cart clinking gently with bottles. He presents a list - real, actual paper - to Meredith and she looks it over with a critical eye. She discusses a few things with the sommelier, and he nods solemnly. He looks up and makes eye contact with the maître d' and two more carts of wine are immediately brought out. A selection of 4 bottles are put on the table and opened. Meredith is poured a small sample which she sniffs, swirls, sniffs again and takes a tentative sip. She smiles broadly and the sommelier visibly relaxes. He leaves a cart of bottles next to her and wheels the other two away. Servers pour the wine - quite a healthy pour if Fen is any judge - and they all take a drink.

"To new friends!" One of the hangers on - Tina maybe? - toasts. Everyone mumbles agreement and drinks. Northern is very delicate with her sips; she told Fen she can eat and drink, but she doesn't like it much. Zhe demures as while the alcohol won't hurt her, the other compounds in the wine absolutely will and Fen takes a healthy sip. It's sour and fruity and dark and tastes of berries and dark chocolate and really is quite good. By the time she puts her glass down, Meredith is pouring another and her friends are most of the way through theirs as well.

Dinner is... an extended affair. It seems that Kerry told them who they were dealing with - if not outright saying she was the Empress then at least impressing how important she is - and the restaurant went all out. No menus, purely a menu based on the best ingredients the chef had as well as things for Zhe to eat, artfully prepared on fine china plates. More wine is poured as needed and Fen takes care of Zhe's glasses and eventually, Northerns and by dessert she's quite drunk.

"Tell me Fen, what's it's like being a mercenary?" Tina is staring at her, with her hands on her chin. Her eyes are deep and her cheeks are flushed. Is she blushing or drunk? Fen can't tell.

"s' not so bad. Lotsa assholes in the galaxy, and they need us to do something or other. Mos' of the time we're just bringing shi from one part of space to another. Somtimes people, sometimes boxes." Fen takes another sip of her wine, and Northern frowns - Fen didn't see it though. "Pays all right, and s' not tha hard. Bettern where I was before though."

Meredith perks up. "Oh? Where were you before?"

Zhe and Northern snap to Fen. "Oh, I was on some shihole station way out in Gren space. Grew up in a k'laxi family, had a wife, the whole deal." Fen's face darkens. "Then she was killed by some gangsters and I got the hell out of there. Guy helped me out too, but then dumped me into an escape pod outside Minaren. I wish I could see him again. Everything worked out, but man oh man was I pissed."

Fen looks around at everyone and takes another gulp of wine. As she puts her glass down, she sees someone walking behind the group in the common.

It's Gord.

"Holy shit! GORD! You shithead!" Fen jumps up out of her chair, knocking it over and launches herself over the elegant topiary as Gord looks up at his name being called in surprise.

Fen is too drunk to connect, and crashes into him bodily.

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #sci fi writing #humans are space oddities #humans and aliens #jpitha #writing #humans and ai #humans are space capybaras #humans are space australians #Between the black and gray

[calliethetrekkie]

Triumvirate Prompts: Day 17

#17. Favorite Kirk Headcanon

I can't remember where I read this one, maybe from one of lenievi's posts. But ever since I did, I cannot get it out of my head.

Kirk didn't grow up on Earth. I guess he probably spent maybe the first two or so years of his life in Iowa, but once he was old enough to handle space travel? He never stayed in one spot at a time. I imagine that both of his parents were in Starfleet (we know this is the case in AOS and I think SNW confirmed at least George Kirk in the Prime verse), so if George was on a Starship regularly and say... Winona was going back and forth between Starbases and outposts, Kirk and Sam would have to go with her. Part of why I think that Tarsus IV happened is because Kirk had to stay there, maybe staying with a family friend or something, cause his mom had to go on a mission that would leave no time to care for him and Sam for reasons decided to go elsewhere (the headcanons I have about Kirk and Sam's childhood man...). Needless to say, when Winona and George found out what happened... well Kodos is lucky he faked his death because they'd have probably killed him.

Kirk absolutely loved going to the different planets and bases, although he quickly got bored when he was stuck in one place for too long. Even after Tarsus, nothing could mar that enthusiasm for exploring space. If anything, it just added the greater person of wanting to become a Starfleet Captain so that he could also make some kind of difference and help others that may have gone through what he did. Aside from maybe a few brief visits to see family or whatever, he never really went back to Earth until he entered the Starfleet Academy. He likely would have gotten bored with it eventually had he not been so focused on his studies. Earth is nice, he certainly likes whenever he gets to be back there and go camping or go visit his old home of Iowa. But in the end he belongs on a Starship traveling through the unknowns of space, and that's where he's at his happiest.

#star trek tos #terms of service-tober #james t kirk

[little-pink-demon00]

The Little Moments Matter 

Luke Skywalker X Reader

fluff

Warnings ( none )

Italics = Y/N's Thoughts

If you were to tell Y/N that she would be helping her boyfriend, Luke Skywalker, save the galaxy from the evil Darth Vader, flying the galaxy with a Wookie and an ego filled pilot, saving a princess, and watching her her boyfriend blow up an entire starbase in the span of 6 days she would of told you that you were crazy.  How could a simple farm girl from the Planet to Tatooine be a part of saving the entire Galaxy. But it's all true, this past week has been the most stressful week of her life, but it also was the most fun and elilerating week of her life. 

Now she was laying under her X-wing fighter tinkering with the engine after the massive rebel fight. She was so focused on the X-wing that she didn’t hear R2 entering the hangar. It wasn’t until the droid repetaly bumped into her leg that she even noticed he was there. Rolling from under the X-wing she sat up looking at the blue and white droid. “Hey,hey you can stop doing that, you have my attention” she said while wiping some grease from her face. The droid started talking but so fast that Y/N couldn't translate what R2D2 was trying to say. 

“Ok R2 you need to slow down i can't understand you.” Y/N said while placing a hand on R2. Before the droid repeated himself another droid entered the hanger. 

“R2D2! You can't just run off like that! Master Luke told us to get Mistress Y/N together!” the droid said while hushing in. 

“3PO what is going on? Why does Luke need me? Is he ok?” Y/N rushed out now getting worried about her boyfriend. 

“Oh heavens no! Master Luke just wants to see you in the gardens. He is completely fine. If you could follow us we will lead you to Master Luke” C-3PO said while walking to the exit. 

Y/N got ip and dusted her hand off while following the droids. What on earth is Luke planning this time? She thought while walking down the corridor to the gardens. You see Luke has always been a little bit of a hopeless romantic even back on Tatooine. He would always think of new ways to spend time with Y/N and how to make the next date batter that the last.

When the trio made it to the garden Y/N was met with the most beautiful sight ever. There was a picnic blanket on the grass with several fruits and sweets laid out on it, there were lights hanging from trees and the sun was just setting leaving a pink and purple sky. In the middle of all this is Luke Skywalker himself standing with a shit eating grin. “ Oh My God, Luke you didn't have to do all of this!” Y/N said while taking in the scenery. 

“Well I wanted to, it's not all the time that you have your first year anniversary” Luke said while walking towards Y/N. 

Anniversary? What anniversary? … OH MY GOD I forgot our anniversary! Y/N thought while staring at Luke. “Oh Luke, I completely forgot about our anniversary.” Y/N said while looking at the ground not wanting to face Luke. “It's just been so stressful lately with the rebellion that it completely slipped my mind.” Y/N just felt so bad about what happened. 

“Oh baby, it's ok. I'm not mad, I completely understand. I'll be lying if i said that i didn't forget your anniversary too.” he said with a chukkel. He wrapped his arms around her and laid a kiss on her forehead. “Now let's sit and enjoy this wonderful array of food that I totally didn’t like from Laya’s secret stash.” 

The two sat together for the rest of the night just enjoying the night with each other and just enjoying their anniversary. 

#x reader #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker #star wars #star wars x reader #x y/n #oneshot #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #skywalker family

[indeedcaptain]

Regulatory Relations, chapter 14: The Admirals

Hello everyone!! :) <3

Some notes on this chapter:

I am accepting as fact that Christopher Pike was disabled in a warp core accident and shooting the rest of that canon, the menagerie included, out the airlock. 

I’m using the actor for April from Strange New Worlds to describe April in this fic even though this is not an SNW fic. 

This chapter had me googling shit like “wheat bacteria. Wheat fungal infection. Causes of wheat fungal infection.” I was five citations deep into the National Library of Medicine. I learned what mycotoxicosis was. If the science is wrong, please forgive me. My mother (me) was an English major and my father (also me) did poorly in freshman chem in college. 

Ty ripley for fact-checking me. I got lied to by the hollywood reporter

Also posted on my AO3 here :)

Enjoy! Smooches ahead!!

☆☆☆

When Kirk awoke, mind rising from a deep, dreamless sleep as swiftly as a bubble through water, his face was pressed into something warm and firm, something that rose and fell rhythmically under his cheek. His hand rested over Spock’s stomach, the beat of his heart fluttering beneath his palm, and Spock’s hand rested on his hip, his arm curled around Kirk’s back, keeping him close.

Kirk relaxed against him, comfortable, warm, and safe. Even after reliving the worst period of his life, after the rollercoaster of a day that their honeymoon had been, no nightmare had disturbed him. So much had changed over just twenty-four hours: he had gone from mourning the loss of his friendships to showing his first officer (his husband, his mind reminded him) everything that he had promised never to share. 

And somewhere in between those two extremes, Spock had taken him out on the best date he’d ever had. The natural history museum, the Best of the Midwest, and Spock bussing his tray for him swam in his brain with the abandoned treehouse on Tarsus, the night they spent in the governor’s house, and Mr. Park’s boots emerging from behind his desk. But rather than Tarsus tainting his recollections of Starbase 27, the memory of their shared time leached away some of the pain of remembrance.

He had removed the boundary between them, and let Spock in. He had shown Spock what he had seen and done on Tarsus. Spock had held his hand, and held him close, and stayed the night. And through all that, their connection had not changed: not Spock’s surety, not their gentle banter and Spock’s quick wit, not how he looked for Spock first in any room he entered. For better and for worse did not come with caveats, he thought, and he opened his eyes.

He lifted his head to the semi-darkness, the red glare of his alarm clock, and Spock, already awake, turning his head to look down at him. His hair clung to the pillowcase as he moved. Kirk’s breath caught in his throat: the familiar angles of Spock’s face had been rendered unfamiliar by proximity, and all the more beautiful for it. Spock’s eyes shone liquid in the dim light, only the sharpest lines of him visible, the rest of him cast in shadow. The silence of the room was viscous in the air. 

Kirk knew that they weren’t done with Tarsus. But Tarsus could wait.

“Mr. Spock,” Kirk said, and his voice was still rough with sleep. “Can I have a do-over?” He pushed himself up further onto his elbow. Spock blinked at him, his arm adjusting to Kirk’s movement without relinquishing his grip. There were only inches between their faces, but Spock did not shift away.

“Of what, captain?” Kirk could feel the rumble of Spock’s voice in his chest through their contact.

“Two mornings ago,” Kirk said. He swallowed. “When you said…” Ashamed, despite Spock’s assurances, of how he had behaved, he pressed his palm down where it rested on Spock’s ribs and hoped that he would understand. He heard Spock exhale through his nose. Spock’s eyes searched his face, and Kirk held his gaze. He would let Spock see him. He was done hiding. 

“I have learned this week that you like when I touch you,” Spock said, quiet in the still of the morning. His hand was a solid pressure against Kirk’s hip, fingers flexing as he spoke. “I have learned that I do too.” 

“I do like it,” Kirk said, almost in a whisper. “At first I was afraid that you would realize how much I liked it, and I would make you uncomfortable. But then…” He lifted his hand and ran one gentle fingertip down the column of Spock’s neck, the exposed line of his collarbone. He was a little shocked at his own daring, but Spock did not flinch away. 

“After I understood my… sentiment towards you, and we crossed more lines, I was afraid that, if you learned what I had been hiding, that you would think less of me. This starship runs as it does because of how we work together.” The words were spilling out of him now, and he needed Spock to understand. “I couldn’t risk losing your trust, if you thought that I was unfit to lead. And I wanted to spare you from seeing what I had seen, if you ever wanted to...” Kirk gestured next to his head, along his psi-points. Spock’s hand came up and circled Kirk’s wrist, pulling it back to rest on his chest. 

“Captain,” Spock said. “Jim. Knowing how your experiences affect you changes nothing about my opinions on your actions, or my trust in your leadership.” He half-raised one eyebrow as he considered Kirk’s hand in his grasp. “You may find that I understand better than most what it is to feel, and feel deeply, and yet still act as though nothing is felt at all.” Kirk closed his eyes, pressing his hand down against Spock’s chest, feeling his heartbeat under his palm.

“I thought that I was protecting you,” Kirk admitted. “I thought that by keeping the truth from you, I could prevent you from being hurt by it.” He flipped his hand around in Spock’s grip to take his hand in his, and opened his eyes. “And instead I hurt you. I’m sorry for that.”

“As I had surmised, captain, and it is forgiven,” Spock said. “But for future reference, I would prefer the truth, no matter how painful, to a comfortable lie.”

“Duly noted, Mr. Spock,” Kirk said, and looked from their intertwined hands to Spock’s face. He couldn’t discern what Spock was thinking in the half-light; he could only admire the lines of his face, the deep color of his eyes and hair contrasted against Kirk’s pillow. 

When Spock spoke again, his voice was reserved. “Now that I know the truth, how would you like to proceed?” And there it was: his opening. Kirk shifted forward, putting more of his weight against Spock’s chest, bringing their faces closer together. Spock turned to look fully at him. 

“You want me to touch you?” Kirk pulled his hand out of Spock’s grasp to bring it up to his face, running his thumb reverently against Spock’s cheekbone, feeling the delicate architecture of his pointed ear under his fingers. Spock’s hand tightened over his waist, and he nodded. 

When he met Spock’s eyes, something warm and electric sparked between them. “I’ve been thinking about this for days,” Kirk breathed, and he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Spock’s. No audience, no pressure of separation or performance, no secrets: the whole galaxy narrowed to him, and his first officer, and the years of history and trust between them. Their bodies pressed together from lips to chests to legs. Spock was deliciously warm. For a few seconds they lay unmoving, but Kirk remembered Spock’s hesitation during their first kiss, and he waited. 

Then Spock opened his mouth to Kirk, rolled towards him, and slid his hand beneath Kirk’s shirt. Kirk looped his arm over his shoulders and pulled Spock in closer, licking into his mouth. Spock’s hand roamed higher, pressing flat against his spine, fingertips digging into the muscle of his back. He pushed Kirk backwards as he braced himself on one arm, his tongue sliding into his mouth as his other hand came up to caress Kirk’s hair. He shivered as Spock’s thumb traced the curved edge of his ear. Kirk slid both hands under the hem of Spock’s sleep shirt, feeling the movement of his hips telegraphed through his spine, and the expanse of his back was warm. Kirk could feel the shifting of the muscles under his skin as he pressed Kirk down into the bed, and the weight of his thigh falling between Kirk’s lit a fire in his stomach. Kirk ground up against him and pulled Spock’s bottom lip between his teeth, and he heard Spock’s exhale catch in a groan in the back of his throat. God, he wanted to eat that sound. He wanted to hear it again immediately. He wanted to be the one to pull that noise out of Spock for the rest of both of their natural lives.

Next to the bed, his alarm clock blared. They both flinched. Kirk dropped his head down against the mattress, and Spock bowed his, pressing his forehead into Kirk’s shoulder with what might have been a sigh. Then he sat up, tapped the alarm off, and rolled back to face Kirk.

“Good morning,” Kirk said, and he grinned. Spock’s eyes softened. The shoulder of his shirt was slipping down, and his hair was mussed from its contact with the pillow and Kirk’s hands. He looked gentle, sleep-soft, lovely. 

“Good morning,” Spock said. He leaned back on one hand, looking down at Kirk where he still sprawled across the bed. “How are you?” 

“Better than last night, that’s certain,” Kirk said. He couldn’t get over the vision of Spock, sitting on his bed in his pajamas, lips gently swollen from kissing. His whole body buzzed. 

“I was concerned for you,” Spock said, and he studied Kirk. “And my concern remains. Captain, have you studied with any level of detail Starfleet’s official record of what occurred on Tarsus IV?” Well, he had hoped for more of a reprieve, but at least Spock let him sleep through the night and kiss him before he returned to the elephant in the room.

“No,” Kirk admitted. “I’ve avoided it entirely. My… Elise said it would only make things worse.”

“It remains highly redacted,” Spock said. “I was not able to use any of the privileged information in my regulation revision, as it would have nullified my efforts, but I had become curious. I acquired an unredacted version and read it.”

“Oh, you acquired one? Achieved that through entirely legal means too, I’m sure?” 

“It would have been illogical and unscientific to draw conclusions from incomplete information,” Spock said delicately. “But, regardless…” Then he hesitated, and Kirk pushed himself up. 

“I’m starting to think that my memories and the Starfleet record might have some inconsistencies,” Kirk said softly. 

“Inconsistencies is not the term I would use,” Spock said. His fingers clenched against the bed, crumpling the sheets, and he looked down.

“What would you call the difference, then?” Spock’s reticence was setting Kirk’s skin crawling. He crossed his legs so he could sit upright, and braced himself. 

“Treason,” Spock said softly. Kirk’s heart seized up. “You were the only witness to a crime against the Federation, but without the context necessary to understand it, and someone has exerted great effort to keep you from gaining that context.” 

“But there were other witnesses,” Kirk said. “There were five--- four other kids with me. At least one of them is in Starfleet now.” 

“I am not referring to the massacre, or the famine,” Spock said, and somehow his gaze grew heavier. “In your memories, you were alone when you saw the shuttle that took Kodos off of Tarsus IV.” 

“I was,” Kirk said. “I mean, he did terrible things, and he should have been brought to justice. But was all of this really just because I saw him escape?” There was something in Spock’s expression that made Kirk uneasy.

“Jim,” Spock said, and he wrapped his hand around Kirk’s wrist, and that more than anything solidified that something was wrong. “Kodos did not escape on his own. The individuals who took Kodos off-planet were not his guards.” 

“What do you mean?” Spock broke eye contact again, glancing briefly over his shoulder. Kirk’s palm grew cold and clammy. He felt his heartbeat tick up.

“I recognized their uniforms,” Spock said. “Kodos was extracted from Tarsus IV by operatives from Section 31.” 

White noise roared in Kirk’s ears. His vision blurred. “No,” he heard himself say, from very far away. Spock redoubled his grip on his wrist. It was his only anchor to the rest of the world. His awareness collapsed into a needle-thin tunnel, with only the vague bright dot of his quarters visible at the end of it. He thought Spock was saying something, but it was hard to hear him from all the way at the end of the tunnel and over the rushing in his ears. 

“Section 31 is a Starfleet office,” he said hollowly, when he could speak again. 

“Yes,” Spock said. 

“You’re saying that Starfleet pulled Kodos off Tarsus. And left us to die.” His preliminary shock was fading away. The crystal-clarity of the cold, unfeeling part of his brain slid down over him like a mask, and he let it take over with a vague sense of relief. 

“A branch of it, yes,” Spock said, and he watched Kirk closely. A detached part of Kirk wondered what Spock’s telepathy felt when he shut everything away like this.

“What else was missing or wrong from the report?” 

“The official cause for the crop failure and famine was a fungal infection--- Fusarium graminearum. But what you showed me did not look like Fusarium, and Fusarium typically grows in dampness and humidity, which is inconsistent with your memories of drought. That Kodos chose who would live and who would die in the massacre in the auditorium was known. But the causes of death for his chosen survivors were all listed as starvation or immolation, and some of the bodies that you saw in the town before the fire had not starved. And though it was not in the report, the medical treatment you experienced after your rescue did not follow standard protocol for starvation or malnutrition, nor the treatment for mycotoxicosis.”

“What do you mean?” Kirk extricated himself from Spock’s grip on his wrist, as gently as he could manage, and crossed to the closet. He needed something to do with himself; he could no longer sit still and absorb just how deeply things had been warped. He grabbed his trousers and tunic from the closet. 

“In your memories, you underwent dialysis as part of your treatment for an extensive duration,” Spock said, and he turned to watch Kirk. “Though it may have been necessary if you had ingested significant quantities of Fusarium and experienced alimentary toxic aleukia, neither the level of sustenance you were able to obtain on Tarsus nor the symptoms you demonstrated after rescue imply that this should have been the case.” 

“It sounds as though you have a hypothesis, Mr. Spock.” Kirk crossed back to the bathroom door, holding his uniform like a security blanket. 

“I do,” Spock allowed. “Is Doctor McCoy aware that you were on Tarsus IV?” 

“He is,” Kirk said. “Unfortunately. He has unredacted access to my medical records.” 

“Would you permit me to view them as well?” 

Kirk froze. “One second,” he said, and ducked into the bathroom as soon as the turbodoor slid open. It slid shut behind him, and he braced his hands on the counter. His medical records wouldn’t show Spock anything more graphic than he had already seen in Kirk’s memories. But his records included holos of himself immediately after, as well as the notes from both Dr. Johns and Elise about his behavior during recovery. He didn’t want Spock to have to see the evidence.

He bent down over the sink to wash his face, and the cold water helped to pull himself back into his body. Although his knee-jerk emotional response to Spock’s question had been a harsh and immediate ‘no,’ he could see the logic in the request. Because Spock had seen all his memories, he wouldn’t have to endure the panic and nausea that came with trying to actually talk about Tarsus. Though his relief at the idea made him feel somewhat like a coward, because Spock now knew as much as he did, Spock could be the one to answer Bones’s questions. Kirk pressed his hand to his chest and realized, as his numbness slowly melted away, that having a path forward--- seeking an answer to a question that wasn’t about his own misery--- gave him a momentum that kept him from drowning in panic. He wasn’t thrilled about the new information or about Spock seeing his records, but the anxiety was manageable. His head was above water. 

He pulled his uniform on, gave his hair a quick brush, and walked back into their quarters. Spock had also changed for the day in his absence, and stood at the bookshelves, adjusting something. When Kirk was halfway across the room, the object of Spock’s attention came into focus: he had unboxed the little crinoid machine and placed it delicately on an empty bit of shelf, next to a padd that Kirk thought he recognized as their wedding gift from Janice. Spock adjusted the tiny piece of machinery so gently in his large hands that Kirk’s heart skipped a beat, and seeing a gift he had given Spock next to their padd of holos made him feel distinctly domestic. It felt nice; a safe reprieve from the disturbing revelations of the morning.

“Are you moving in for good, Mr. Spock?” 

Spock spun, clasping his hands behind his back so quickly that the motion was a blur. He looked suddenly unsure of himself. “Captain, I---” 

“I think I would like it if you do,” Kirk said, and he came to stand next to the Vulcan, close enough that their shoulders brushed. “If that was something you wanted.” They both considered the undulation and writhing of the crinoid, the feathers flicking out into the air in a graceful, solitary dance.

“If you would have me, captain, I would like to stay.” 

“Good.” The answer settled his mind a little further. Kirk nodded decisively, and before he could lose his nerve, he said, “You can see my records, and then I need to hear your hypothesis.” Spock turned to look at him. “After we meet with the admirals. And I have a question for you first.” 

“Certainly, captain,” Spock said. 

“How did you recognize the uniforms?” 

Spock watched the movement of the crinoid for another few seconds before he said, “Have you ever heard the name Michael Burnham?” 

Kirk raised his eyebrows. “The mutineer? Of course. What the hell does she have to do with this?” 

“Did you know she was raised on Vulcan?” 

“Yes,” Kirk said slowly. “Did you… did you know her?” 

“She was my foster sister,” Spock said. Kirk’s mouth dropped open involuntarily.

“You’re joking.”

“I am not, captain,” Spock said. “I became unfortunately acquainted with Section 31 during one of her classified exploits.” 

Kirk gaped at him, mind reeling. He tried to reorient himself around this enormous piece of information. Spock had kept a Federation-sized secret from him for years, one that had Federation-wide repercussions, and likely had more, if he had been involved with any of Burnham’s other activities during her time on the Discovery. 

His first instinct was to be angry that Spock had kept this from him. But then something lighter, a little happier, a little truer, bubbled up from inside him. It was easy to forget sometimes that he was not the only person in the universe carrying ugly secrets. The reminder chipped away another piece of his mask, set him more firmly on his own two feet, in his body, on his ship. 

Spock watched him, shoulders pulled back tightly, hands clasped behind him. “Jim, I am sorry that I did not---” 

Kirk shoved him playfully sideways, and Spock, shocked, had the grace to pretend to be moved. “Don’t apologize. You keeping that secret makes us even. You were raised with Starfleet’s only mutineer?” 

“She was not a mutineer at the time,” Spock said, and the line of his shoulders loosened. “We ought to depart if we are to have breakfast before the start of alpha shift. The admirals will arrive in three point five hours.” 

“When it rains, it pours,” Kirk said, and smiled at the offended eyebrow raise that the expression earned. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to see April have a meltdown in the ready room.”

“Do you intend to provoke him, captain?” They crossed to the door to the hallway, and as Kirk lifted his hand to open the door he suddenly remembered how he had felt yesterday morning, to enter the hallway and find no Spock waiting for him. It had only been twenty-four hours. Everything had changed. 

Instead of opening the door, he reached for Spock. He pulled him around in front of him, and pushed him backwards. His back hit the door with a gentle thud. 

“Maybe I do,” Kirk said, leaning forward into his space, and without hesitating Spock bent his head to meet him in a kiss. Spock’s arms came around him, pulling him tightly against him, as Kirk slid one hand behind his head to anchor them together. The feeling of Spock’s hair between his fingers, his hands against his back, his lips against his own--- he was never going to get used to it.

When they broke apart, Spock’s hair was in disarray, and Kirk smoothed it back down. “I do not recommend that we do that in front of the admiralty,” Spock said, but there was a flush high on his cheeks that betrayed his composure. 

“No?” Kirk made his voice as innocent as he could. “I thought that April could perhaps use a little more convincing.” 

“I am certain that the crew will vouch for the truth for us,” Spock said, before he gently smoothed the shoulders of Kirk’s tunic down. Kirk tapped the door pad and Spock stepped neatly backwards as the door opened. 

“I, for one, am curious to hear what they’ll share with April,” Kirk said. “I know about the hypotheses, and the betting pools, and the nurses’ log. Oh, and the Spock rule. But I bet there are others.”

“The human desire to turn everything into a competition or a gambling opportunity is fascinating, captain.” They walked down the hall, side by side, perfectly synchronized, and the cold that had seized him earlier released another piece of his heart. The back of Spock’s hand brushed his as they walked, and he leaned down to listen more closely when Kirk talked. Kirk let himself touch the small of Spock’s back for emphasis, and he couldn’t stop the comfortable warmth in his chest from shining out of his face. He grinned at his crew as they passed and saluted or smiled at him and Spock. When they saw him and Spock together, he knew they were just seeing an affectionate newlywed couple, fresh off of shore leave together. 

And wouldn’t you know it? For the first time since Kirk had proposed marriage, it was even true. 

☆☆☆

They entered the officers’ mess to find Bones and Uhura already eating breakfast. They both looked up as the doors slid open to admit them, and as they registered Kirk and Spock entering together, Kirk could see their pleased surprise. He lifted a hand in greeting, his own smile growing in response, before replicating breakfast and moving to join them. He had just sat down and set his plate on the table when he realized he’d forgotten coffee. “One second,” he said, and made to stand again, when a mug landed on the table in front of him, delivered by an elegant and long-fingered hand. 

He looked up as Spock sat next to him, setting his own plate and mug down. “Thank you,” he said, and Spock nodded before picking up his fork. Kirk looked across the table to see Uhura stifle a smile behind one hand and Bones roll his eyes before picking up a jam-soggy piece of toast. 

“How was your time on the starbase?” Uhura asked. 

“Wonderful,” Kirk said, at the same time that Spock said, “Adequate.” Bones snorted, but he had an evaluative look on his face, and his eyes were locked onto Kirk. With a slight wince, Kirk remembered the unfortunate context in which he had last seen him. He had the feeling he was going to owe Bones an emergency bottle of bourbon by the time the day was over.

“We saw a number of fascinating creatures that inhabit the planets of nearby systems,” Spock said, and Kirk dug into his breakfast as Uhura picked up the conversation. On his other side, he felt Bones nudge his calf with his shoe. Kirk looked at him. 

In the silent language of their long friendship, Bones asked with his eyebrows: You okay? 

A slight, begrudging frown and a short nod: Yes, actually. 

Narrowed eyes: Really? 

And then, before Kirk could stop himself, he glanced at Spock. Facing burning, he immediately forced his eyes back to the table. When he dared look back at Bones, he was trying and failing to suppress a told-you-so smile. 

“Cohabiting going well?” Bones asked innocently, and Kirk kicked him under the table.

☆☆☆

Kirk’s first full shift since the day of the wedding started off quietly. They orbited gently around Starbase 27, depositing old supplies that needed replacing and restocking on the things they wouldn’t be able to replicate as they headed deeper into unclaimed space. Only one requisition request took him by surprise: First Officer S’chn T’gai Spock requested additional unreplicated foodstuffs “to test the validity of the hypothesis of the potential forthcoming revision to Regulation 6245-B.” Warmth bloomed in his chest as he signed his approval and shipped it back to Janice for implementation. 

He looked around at his crew during one of the lulls: Chekov and Sulu arguing over the fastest way through a nearby asteroid belt that wouldn’t earn them an explosive decompression; Uhura sorting through messages, translating incoming intel and keeping an eye on local transmissions; Scotty and one of his engineers on their backs beneath a misbehaving console panel. Spock scanned through sensor readings, occasionally glancing out the viewscreen or back at Kirk, and his fingers twitched against his thighs in a way that Kirk recognized as boredom, though Spock would never admit to it. He stood up and stretched hugely before wandering up behind Spock, peering over his shoulder at the completely average readings. 

“Captain,” Spock said, and he sat back in his chair. His shoulder blades brushed Kirk’s stomach, and the back of his head leaned slightly against Kirk’s sternum. The position gave him deja vu to just a few days previously, when they had been in the same position, when Spock had been reading through the nurses’ report on their movements through Medbay.

Before Kirk allowed himself to think through whether or not it was wise, he rested his hands on Spock’s shoulders in front of him, his thumbs brushing the warm skin of his neck, just above the collar of his uniform. So quietly that Kirk almost missed it, Spock sighed through his nose, and he leaned further back against him, eyes closing in a slow blink. 

“Anything interesting going on out there?” 

“Clarify the parameters of ‘interesting,’ sir.” 

“I’ll take that as a no,” Kirk said, laughing, and he gave himself one more second to appreciate Spock leaning against him, the warmth under his hands, before he reminded himself that he was on duty and would have significant supervision for the next ten days. He was looking forward to having something to do, even if that something was ferrying around stuffy admirals like an oversized tourist ship. At least he would get to spend some time with Chris again. He owed the man at least one drink--- it had been his idea, after all, that had started everything.

An hour later, after Kirk had gotten to the bottom of his paperwork pile, his mind wandered to what Spock had told him that morning, worrying at the thought like he was pressing on a bruise. The unmarked black shuttle that haunted his dreams belonged to a branch of Starfleet. It was an esoteric, virtually invisible branch (one that was mostly mentioned as a scary story to threaten misbehaving ensigns with), but it was a subsection of the organization to which he had pledged his entire life. Why had Section 31 come to Tarsus, and only saved Kodos? 

They had seen him. He had killed one of them. One of them had seriously considered killing him in return. And yet they had disappeared with Kodos and left him alive on the cursed colony, assuming that he would starve to death; they must not have known that the Valiant was only a day behind. Lieutenant Commander Ashton Park’s message had been sent out on public relay for anyone to hear. Was there so little communication between Section 31 and the rest of Starfleet?

But that wasn’t the only unpleasant shock of the morning. Kirk had spent very little time reflecting on the months he spent in and out of hospitals; Dr. Johns had murmured soft words about his ‘ordeal’ and then explained virtually nothing about what was being done to him. But Spock thought that his treatment didn’t line up with what Starfleet said had happened. 

Kirk pulled out his padd and tried to force his hands to stop shaking. He had told Spock that he could see his records, and he would keep his word. Even if it physically hurt him to do it. He tapped on his message thread with Bones, and smiled wryly at their last, ironic exchange.

> TheRealMcCoy: have you talked to spock?

In a manner of speaking, he had. And bringing Spock into his confidences, against all of the instruction that Elise had drilled into him, had broken the pattern he had been stuck in and set him moving forward again. 

> JTK: hi 

> TheRealMcCoy: Hi yourself 

> JTK: I have a request

> TheRealMcCoy: What is it? 

> JTK: I need to see my medical records 

A pause.

> TheRealMcCoy: Are you sick? 

> JTK: No 

> JTK: I want Spock to see them

> TheRealMcCoy: See what, exactly?

> JTK: All of it

> TheRealMcCoy: Are you serious?

> JTK: As a heart attack

> TheRealMcCoy: Not funny 

Kirk could see Bones typing and then stopping, as if he were writing and rewriting his message. In the end, all he sent was: 

> TheRealMcCoy: Really?

> JTK: yes 

> TheRealMcCoy: That’s good

> TheRealMcCoy: That’s great

> TheRealMcCoy: Come by whenever

He couldn’t say he was looking forward to the conversation, or to showing Spock the awful holos of himself. But after years of Tarsus-related stagnation, having a question to answer and something to work towards felt good. It felt like healing. He glanced over at Spock, bending over his sensor, and could not stop himself from admiring the long lines of his body.

Scotty’s voice came over the comm. “Captain, stationmaster reports the admirals are ready to beam aboard.” 

“Thank you, Scotty,” Kirk said. “I’ll be down in just a moment. Kirk out.” He released the comm button and stood. “Spock, with me. Chris will want to see you first, and April too, probably. Sulu, you have the conn.” 

“Yes, captain,” Sulu said, standing to take his seat, and Kirk and Spock went down to the turbolift. “Transporter,” Spock said, and the doors closed between them and the bridge. 

They stood in silence for half a second before Kirk turned to Spock. He inhaled, but the daring glint in Spock’s eyes answered his question. He was across the turbolift and pressed against Spock in the space of a heartbeat. Even as his lips met Kirk’s, Spock twisted the handle that stopped the turbolift and wrapped both arms around his waist, pulling him flush against him. Kirk brought his hands up to frame Spock’s face, feeling the silk of his hair and the points of his ears. Spock had lost his hesitation, and he licked possessively into Kirk’s mouth, and the warm wet heat of it drove him to distraction. He worried Spock’s lip between his teeth like he had before, and Spock’s response came from somewhere deep in his chest and went straight to Kirk’s groin. 

He summoned all of his willpower to pull his mouth from Spock’s before he lost all possibility of discretion. “We’ve got places to be,” he said, looking up at Spock. Spock’s gaze flicked down to his mouth before meeting his eyes, and he pressed his lips into a thin pink line before restarting the turbolift.

“Indeed,” Spock said, and Kirk grinned at the barely disguised disappointment in his tone as they descended further through the ship.

Scotty was waiting by the transporter console when they arrived, the flashing lights indicating that two were ready for transport. He was polite enough to ignore when they both straightened their tunics in guilty symmetry, smothering a knowing smirk.

“Energize when ready, Scotty,” Kirk said. 

“Energizing, captain.” 

Two golden pillars of light materialized on the transporter pad, shimmering and humming until they coalesced into two figures: Admiral April, tall and broad in his uniform, and Admiral Pike in his turbochair. Spock lifted the ta’al as Kirk strode forward to shake hands. April, unsmiling, shook his hand firmly, once, before stepping off the pad to approach Spock. Though Chris’s hands were encased in the body of the hoverchair, his upper torso was visible above the top, and his eyes twinkled merrily as Kirk squeezed his shoulder. 

“Admiral Pike,” Kirk said, and Chris’s voice--- familiar, realistic, just like he had remembered--- came from a speaker on the front of the chair. 

“You calling me admiral makes me feel like an old man,” he complained. 

Kirk grinned broadly. “You have your own voice again!” The last time he and Spock had seen Chris, he had still been in the early days of recovering from the accident, and his voice had still been the robotic standard of all vocal replacements. His skin had not yet healed then, either; now that it had scarred and settled, the ridged pattern of the radiation burns reminded Kirk of beaches and wind-blown sand dunes.

“It was a gift from Number One,” Chris said. “She and that scary lawyer friend of hers convinced the regulatory board to declassify my logs early so we could use them to train the voicebox. And she said talking so much would never be good for anything!” Kirk laughed, and Chris’s warm laughter came through the voicebox.

“Admiral Pike,” Spock said, stepping up to them, April trailing him with a deepening frown, eyes glancing between him and Kirk. 

“Not you too,” Chris said, and Spock raised his eyebrows at Kirk as if to say, What did you do? “It’s good to see you, Spock!” 

Spock walked next to Chris’s turbochair, his head bent down to listen, occasionally offering an observation that made Chris’s deep belly laugh ring out from his voicebox. With one tap to Spock’s shoulder as he passed, Kirk dropped back to walk next to April. The lights of the corridor glinted off the dark skin of his bald head, and the surety of his stride reminded Kirk that before the Enterprise had been his, or Pike’s, she had been April’s. 

“Your secret put me in a difficult position, Kirk,” April said. He rubbed one hand over his beard as he considered Kirk, and his dark eyes were shrewd. 

“I’m sorry, Admiral,” Kirk said, though he wasn’t. “We had decided long ago that discretion was the best option. We didn’t mean to cause any inconvenience.”

“He should be leading that science vessel and you know it.” So they were going to argue about where Spock should spend his career, not whether or not they were married. Kirk couldn’t decide if he was relieved or disappointed.

“Maybe, but he didn’t want it. The crew of a ship takes their cues from their captain, and having a captain who doesn’t want to be there is a surefire way to ruin a mission.” 

They took the turbolift in pained silence, and as Chris and Spock led the way down the hallway April continued quietly to Kirk, “He would have gotten used to it. It would have been good for him. By the time he retires, he’ll have been a first officer for, what? Forty years? Sixty? And he could be so much more.” April’s tone, his insinuations, set Kirk’s teeth on edge, and anger spiked in his stomach. 

“With all due respect, Admiral, I care more about what he wants than what you think is good for him.” 

“Right,” April said. “Because you are his husband.” There it was. Ahead of them, Kirk saw Spock’s head turn slightly--- that Vulcan hearing didn’t miss anything. 

“I am,” Kirk said, and claiming that title aloud made something glow inside him, even as he noted April’s unreadable glance at him. “The ready room, gentlemen.” He tapped the door open and stood back to let the admirals enter before gesturing Spock in as well. Spock passed so closely by him that he could feel the heat of him, and Spock’s quick darting glance at him confirmed that he knew what he was doing. Kirk pressed his lips together to suppress a smile and shut the door behind them. When he looked up at the officers around his conference table, April’s acute focus was on Spock, and there was that same unreadable expression on his face. Kirk had expected frustration, or indignation at Spock’s decision; he had not expected this somber consideration.

“We await your orders, sir,” he said, to break the silence, and April cleared his throat. 

“We’ll need to stay in orbit around SB27 for three more days,” April said. “I need access to the high-speed relay to send a few reports. Then we’ll depart for Kindinos VI, because they’ve been radio-silent for a few weeks. I don’t think anything has gone wrong, necessarily, but the dilithium mine there is an important resource and I’d rather be safe than sorry. Then, assuming they’re fine and don’t need more assistance, we will drop in on any other colonies out that way that need a wellness check, and then rendezvous with the U.S.S. Maddox in twelve days.” 

“Yes, sir,” Kirk said, but the name of the ship they were meeting unsettled him. He knew he had heard of the ship before, but he couldn’t remember the context at the moment. Spock’s eyes met his, and he knew that Spock had recognized the name as well. 

Kirk pulled a datapadd off the charging port on the table and tapped it open, and started working through the logistics of April’s orders. For the better part of two hours they arranged travel, lodging, fueling, and the rendezvous, until Chris let out the sound of a huge fake yawn. Spock raised one eyebrow at him.

“As fun as this is, I would love to see how the rest of the ship has changed since my time, if you can be spared for a tour.” 

Kirk grinned and pushed his chair back. “Our day is yours, Admiral,” he said, and they departed to the dulcet tones of Chris grumbling about his promotion again. 

☆☆☆

Spock led them deeper into the ship and halted at a closed lab door.

“One of the scientists has been analyzing patterns of decay in shield panels at warp speed. Would you like to see her research?” 

“Hell yeah,” Pike said, and though his face did not move, curiosity shone in his eyes. Spock opened the lab door, revealing Dr. Khan and a bank of computers. She turned as the door opened, standing up out of her chair as she saw the guests. 

“Admiral April, Admiral Pike, this is Dr. Priyal Khan.”

“Admirals. Captain. Mr. Spock,” she said, looking at them in turn. “I was just applying historical data to the most recent iteration of my algorithm. Would you care to see?” April, whether out of politeness or to get away from Kirk to save his last nerve, stepped forward to listen. 

“How’s married life?” Chris asked quietly, and Kirk marveled at the control that the new voicebox allowed him.

“It’s good. It’s really good,” Kirk said. He crouched down next to Chris’s chair so he could lower his voice. “We owe you big-time.” 

“I’m glad it worked out,” Chris said, and his eyes flicked to Spock before meeting Kirk’s again. “But you should know that April is still hesitant about all this.” 

“I had noticed,” Spock said. “I do not think, however, that…” Then his head snapped towards April, where he stood talking to Dr. Khan. Chris and Kirk both turned to listen in as well. 

“We were aware, sir,” she said. She stuck one hand in the pocket of her lab coat and pushed her glasses up her nose with the others. “It was hard not to be. The captain started showing up down here about six weeks in, and then he never left.” 

April asked something so quietly that Kirk couldn’t hear it, but he heard Dr. Khan’s derisive snort. “No, sir. Quite the opposite. It was…” Then she stopped and turned abruptly to the eavesdroppers. “If I’m going to give an unbiased review of my supervisor, he and his hearing need to leave.” 

Spock straightened, affronted, as Kirk smothered a smile and turned for the door. 

“There’s no need for that,” April said, and he shook Dr. Khan’s hand. “I appreciate your candor.” 

“Anytime,” she said, and she turned her back on him to resume her work. Spock, hands behind his back, led them deeper into the labs, pointing out various changes and experiments to Chris. Kirk walked alongside Spock, watching him work, and seeing the furrows in April’s brow get deeper and deeper as he watched them in kind.

Spock led them through more of the labs, where April asked each of Spock’s scientists the same questions he had asked Dr. Khan. Had they been aware that the captain and the commander were in a relationship? Had that relationship caused any distraction or any other problems while Kirk had been in command? 

Kirk had learned, first from Uhura and then from the general response to the wedding, that a significant faction of the crew had believed that he and Spock were either already in a relationship or were going to be in one shortly. This knowledge did nothing to blunt the shock of hearing over and over again: 

“Yeah, we knew.” 

“It was the ship’s worst-kept secret.” 

“No captain spends that much time in the labs unless they’ve got a reason to be there. A good reason.” 

One biologist whispered “sorry!” in Spock’s direction before she said to April, “We all noticed when they started spending more time together because there was a shift in Mr. Spock’s management style.” Chris, who had started out laughing at each answer before he fell into a thoughtful silence, rotated his entire chair to stare Spock down after that one. 

And to the second question: 

“No.” 

“No, sir.” 

“Not at all.” 

“I think it was good for both of them. And good for us.”

From labs, to engineering, to Giotto’s office, to the bridge, the response was the same: the crew had known. It had made both of them better, and it made the crew better. As they walked through the ship, Spock brushed his fingers against Kirk’s wrist, placing his hand on his lower back as he passed, and Kirk took every opportunity he could to bump their shoulders together. When he had envisioned April’s arrival on their ship, he had thought that they would be performing as a couple. He had never thought that he would be reaching out to touch Spock because he wanted to. April watched them move around each other, and interrogated the crew, and with each testimony about their long-standing and poorly disguised relationship his expression passed from solemn to downright defeated.

As the ship’s clock counted down the minutes to the end of alpha shift, Kirk and Spock walked April and Pike to the guest quarters. 

“Thank you for the tour, captain. Commander. Good night,” April said abruptly. He glanced between Kirk and Spock, seemingly measuring the distance between them, before vanishing into one of the quarters. The door slid shut behind him, leaving the three other men in shocked silence. Kirk glanced down at Chris for an explanation, but Chris just lifted one shoulder stiffly in the universal gesture of “hell if I know.” Spock broke the tension.

“Captain, we are due in the gymnasium soon for another suus mahna lesson shortly. Admiral Pike, would you care to join us?” 

“If you call me admiral one more time, Spock, I’ll run you over with this chair. See if I won’t.” But he joined them in the turbolift and met them in the gym after they had changed, and they found Giotto and Spock’s little class of six waiting for them. Kirk sat on the bench on the outskirts of the room next to Chris while Spock warmed up the attendees and started drilling them. They must have been practicing with each other in between lessons, Kirk thought, because their movements were less jerky and unsure than they had been before. One and Two moved in eerie symmetry, Crovath and Laila following behind, but they progressed more quickly through the beginning moves and moved onto more advanced combinations shortly.

Kirk chatted quietly with Chris, getting updates on old shipmates, on Number One, and on Chris’s life since the accident, until Spock paused and turned, looking over his shoulder for Kirk. “I think this is my cue,” he said to Chris, and joined Spock on the mat. 

“I will demonstrate how you can use your opponent’s momentum against them, which is useful when you stand against one either larger or with a longer reach than you.” 

Kirk put his hands on his hips. “Neither of those things are true here,” he pointed out, and Spock sighed quietly through his nose. 

“Please participate regardless for the purpose of the demonstration, captain,” Spock said. 

“Yes, dear,” Kirk said, and the watching security officers grinned. Spock cocked his head, eyes alight, and he shifted forward into a waiting, predatory stance. Kirk shook his arms out, suddenly wishing he had warmed up instead of chatting with Chris. But it was too late for that now. He bounced a couple of times, Spock’s eyes tracking his movement, before swinging cautiously at Spock. 

Spock batted his hands away like he was offended by the effort, but something was different. Kirk lashed out again, aiming for his ribs, stepping forward with the motion, and Spock directed his arm off to the side, sending him wide, clearing room for Spock to step around him neatly. Kirk spun to protect his back, his skin tingling pleasantly. He dodged to the side to attack again, and time slowed as his mind woke up and got out of his way. 

When they had fought before, Spock had blocked him with the tightest economy of movement; he would tap Kirk’s limbs out of the way with short, sure bursts of contact from the blade of his hand or a closed fist. But now he blocked Kirk’s moves with an open palm. He wrapped his hand around Kirk’s wrist to redirect him, and dragged his fingertips along his forearm when he parried Kirk’s lazy opening swings. 

It was a soft, almost unnoticeable change, and distractingly erotic. Kirk stepped into Spock’s space, removing the advantage of his superior reach, but Spock circled him, the active heat of him radiating against Kirk’s back, and he fought a shiver. They circled each other, Spock pushing him to move faster, his hands warm against Kirk’s shoulder, elbow, wrist, hips as he forced Kirk off balance. The places where his palms had been felt warm long after the contact had ended. They traded blows. Kirk pushed Spock backwards, but Spock circled him again, forcing him into another tight spin. 

He twisted over his shoulder to keep his eyes on Spock, and Spock moved. He planted one foot behind Kirk, in the middle of his stance, pushed him neatly backwards with one long hand against his sternum, and sent him crashing to the floor.

Or, he would have crashed to the floor, if Spock hadn’t lunged over him and caught him with one arm behind his back, inches from the mat. The air wheezed from Kirk’s lungs as Spock straightened back upright, pulling Kirk up with him. 

“Thank you for your assistance,” Spock said, and bowed slightly to him. 

“Anytime,” Kirk wheezed, and clapped Spock on the shoulder. Winded, humbled, and buzzing from the overload of physical contact, he returned to his seat next to Chris as he lifted his water bottle to his mouth. Chris’s eyes remained fixed on Spock until he returned his attention to the security students, and then he rotated his chair to face Kirk directly.

“Jim,” Chris said quietly. “I didn’t know. When I suggested the regs, I didn’t…” He trailed off, uncertain. 

“There was nothing to know then,” Kirk murmured back. He watched the grace of Spock’s movements distractedly before meeting Chris’s eyes again. “But since then...”

“This morning, I thought: wow. These two are better actors than I ever could have guessed. But after the rest of today, the way he touches you--- I’ve known him a long time, Jim, and this is a side of him that I have never seen before.” 

Something pleased and possessive lit up in him. “It’s new,” he admitted. “We haven’t really talked about it yet. But I think we might owe you a very nice case of pretty much whatever you want.” 

“Ask Una what she wants,” Chris said. “Most things taste the same to me now.”

“Damn you,” groaned Kirk. “She always had more expensive opinions.” But he leaned his shoulder over to bump Chris’s, and they watched Spock work in companionable silence until he dismissed the students and Giotto with a bow and joined them.

“Hand to hand,” Chris said approvingly. “It’s a useful skill, and not one enough people have a mastery of. Your idea?” 

“Giotto’s, actually,” Kirk said, and they changed back into their uniforms and made their way to the guest quarters. 

“These bones need a rest, and I’ve got more work to do anyway,” Chris said, and the ridges of his scars shone beneath the hallway lights. “I’ll see you boys tomorrow. Try not to get into any more trouble, will you?” 

“I make no promises,” Kirk said, and with a fond scoff Chris vanished into his room. His departure left them alone in the hallway, facing each other, Spock’s hands clasped loosely behind his back. 

“I told Bones we would come by,” Kirk said.

“Then we should not keep the doctor waiting,” Spock said, and they turned for the turbolift. “Do you require dinner first?” Kirk shook his head. 

“After,” he said, and though they walked in silence through the quiet hallways, Spock brushed his hand gently with his.

☆☆☆

Sickbay was quiet and dim when they arrived, the lights lowered for the comfort of the patients that were there overnight. There were not many; with no recent dangerous away missions, most of Sickbay’s work was routine, scheduled health maintenance for the people who lived on the ship. Chapel sat at a computer, tapping her chin with one finger as she scanned something on the screen. She looked up at their entrance and smiled. 

“What can I do for you, sir? Mr. Spock?” 

“Just here to see Bones, Christine. At ease.” 

She nodded at Bones’s office door as they passed, and they lost her attention to her work soon after that. Kirk knocked once on the door, and from within the gruff Southern voice said, “Come on in.” 

Kirk opened the door and stepped through, Spock at his shoulder like a shadow. Bones sat at his desk, steaming mug of some tea at hand, illuminated by the dim light of the console. 

“Hey there, Bones,” Kirk said, and tried unsuccessfully to keep his brain from replaying their argument from the last time he had been in this room.

“Welcome back, Jimmy,” Bones said, and the tenor of his voice was gentle enough that Kirk knew that he had been forgiven. “I’m given to understand that you want to see your records.” 

Though his hands were still clasped behind his back, Spock’s shoulder pressed into Kirk’s from behind, solid, warm, and comforting. Kirk straightened his spine and nodded.

“I’ve been looking over them since we talked the other day,” Bones said, and he stood to come closer, sitting himself halfway onto his desk. “About security officers.” He glanced at Spock before looking back at Kirk, shrewd blue eyes measuring their proximity. “Can I speak freely, Jim?” 

“Please,” Kirk said. “He, ah. He knows everything.” 

“He does?” Bones raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms, considering Spock with his head tilted. “Would you mind terribly elaborating on just what you mean by everything?” 

“I showed him,” Kirk said, and those eyes turned back to him. “Last night. After we got back from the starbase. I asked for his help with finding out more about that officer, and from there…” He blinked as his body recalled the panic, the nausea, the stoppage of his throat, and behind his back Spock’s hand came up to press comfortingly against his spine. He cleared his throat. “Talking about it doesn’t work for me, I’m afraid. So…” He looked at Spock, who looked steadily at Bones. 

“The captain allowed me to perform a mindmeld between us so that I might witness his experiences without his having to discuss them.” 

Bones looked between them, calculating, before he cleared his throat. “How do you feel, Jimmy?” 

“Better,” Kirk said immediately, surprised at his own sureness, and Bones nodded, and Kirk saw the beginnings of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. He gestured back to his console. 

“I read back through the reports of your treatment after the Valiant showed up,” Bones said. “There are about a million entries. The CMO from the Valiant had some interesting things to say, but after that? A whole lot of nothing.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean that the reports are bullshit--- your temperature, height and weight, blood panels, notes on your mood, but in every one it says that testing was performed and results analyzed. But the tests are never named, and the results never discussed.” Bones quirked his mouth to one side and tapped his shoe against his desk. “There’s also something a little odd. There’s a misspelling in every single entry after your Dr. Johns took over, and always the same five or six words. There was one in your blood tests too. I’ll be damned if I could find a pattern, but I was actually hoping that one of you boys could work some computer magic and make it spit out more information.” 

“Understanding software architecture is not magic, doctor---”

“You know damn well what I meant, what with being a computer yourself---”

Kirk grinned broadly as his two favorite people in the universe bitched at each other, and when Bones turned to him with a this is the man you married? face, he nodded. Bones stepped back to his console before turning to meet Spock’s eyes. When he spoke, it was for Spock only. 

“Jim wants you to see everything, so you’ll see everything. But I’ll tell you now, Spock, it’s heavy stuff.” Bones crossed his arms and stared Spock down, and his unsaid words hung between them: so if you can’t handle that, then get out now. 

Spock held Bones’s gaze unflinchingly as he said evenly, “I can assure you, doctor, that my strength is more than equal to its weight.” Spock’s statement hung in the air, the two men holding the other’s gaze, until Bones nodded decisively and stepped aside, allowing Spock entry. Spock pressed his hand once more against Kirk’s back before dropping it and following Bones to his computer.

Bones claimed his desk chair and Kirk and Spock hovered over his shoulders as he pulled up Kirk’s medical file.

“Kirk, James Tiberius,” Bones drawled. “Born on Earth, outrageously young to be a captain, aptitude test scores too high to be good for anyone. Yadda yadda yadda.” He scrolled down past Kirk’s current medical standing and, with only one second’s hesitation, clicked on something. A subfile opened, and the bolded heading at the top read “SURVIVOR RECORD, TARSUS IV - MINOR.” 

“Ready, Jim?” Bones’s voice was quiet. Kirk nodded, but turned around, crossing his arms as he leaned against the edge of the desk. He knew that the first thing in the file would be the set of holos that the staff of the Valiant had taken. Some things didn’t need to be re-witnessed. He felt the comforting weight, muscle, fat, and bone of his healthy body under his hands and kept the console screen out of his field of vision. 

The console controller clicked gently as Bones scrolled. Spock leaned over his shoulder, one hand planted on Bones’s desk, the other on the back of Bones’s chair, peering intently at the screen. The blue-white light of the console washed out his features, leaving only his dark eyes. Spock absorbed the information in silence as Bones scrolled on, from the pictures of Jimmy’s emaciation to the results of the barrage of tests that the Valiant had done, to his return to Earth, and then to the period of time he spent under Dr. Johns’s care. 

“Enough,” Spock eventually said, his voice gravelly. He straightened, gaze fixed on the screen, before he broke away from it to look at Kirk. He clasped his hands together before immediately releasing them. He took two quick steps towards Kirk and compulsively ran his hand from Kirk’s neck, over his shoulder, and down his arm before he clasped his hands behind him. The path that his hand had taken burned pleasantly. “The records from Dr. Johns do not reflect the reality of Jim’s treatment. And while it seems as though the Valiant was treating the children--- or at least the captain--- for mycotoxicosis as well as the burns and starvation, I do not believe that the survivors were able to ingest enough of what killed the harvest to have suffered the effects of it.” 

“The official cause of the famine was Fusarium graminearum,” Bones said. “If ingested through consumption of post-corruption, pre-rot food, it could---” 

“Tarsus was in drought, doctor,” Spock said quietly, and Bones rocked back in his chair. “And there was no carrier stage in whatever killed the plants. It was rapid.” He paused, and cocked his head. “And blue. I also believe that you ought to know that Johns was not only testing Jim on a weekly basis, but sending him for dialysis.” 

“Hemodialysis? Weekly? For a teenager without any symptoms of kidney failure?” Bones looked at Kirk, eyebrows pulling together. “Jim, is that right?” Kirk nodded once. 

“And what exactly do you mean, that it was blue?” 

Spock glanced at Kirk, and Kirk nodded again. Spock said, “His school had been growing crops before the famine. He witnessed them as they decayed, and it was unlike any fungal infection I have ever seen. The resultant matter was a metallic blue.” 

Bones worried his lip between his teeth, frowning at the records on the screen. “Okay,” he said finally. “Okay. So we know that the records have been falsified, and the psychologist was a security officer. Based on what Jim’s said, I would guess that her role was to keep him from sharing anything about Tarsus. But what in the devil does that mean?” 

Spock glanced at Kirk with a question on his face, and Kirk nodded again, closing his eyes. He heard Spock shift, and one long, familiar hand wrapped around his wrist, a loose cuff that anchored him more firmly into his skin. He opened his eyes and covered Spock’s hand with his own. 

“One more datum, doctor, that I believe is central to your question. Something that I was only able to learn because Jim showed me what he saw, rather than expressing it verbally. Jim was the only witness to Section 31’s extraction of Kodos from Tarsus.”

“You were the only witness to what.” Bones’s voice went flat. He stood up, his chair scraping back against the floor, hands flat on the desk. Kirk met his eyes, grinned crookedly, and shrugged. 

“Wrong place, wrong time,” he said wryly, and Bones’s eyes narrowed.

“I don’t know if I should be even more impressed that you survived or just angry that you had to survive this at all, Jim.” 

“I recommend both, doctor,” Spock said, and Kirk and Bones both turned to him in surprise. “Tomorrow, perhaps, after the Alpha shift, I would like to study Jim’s records more closely and cross-reference them both with his memories and Kevin Riley’s records, with his permission. The misspellings you mentioned may be a code, or a way to hide information.”

Bones looked to Kirk for his assent, and Kirk nodded. He said, “You said you had a hypothesis, Spock. Care to share it now?” 

Spock straightened, and with one more squeeze of Kirk’s wrist he released it to cross his arms across his chest. “My previous interactions with Section 31 have always been in relation to Starfleet research and development. While that is not all that they do, I believe it to be a significant aspect of their role.” He took a deep breath and glanced between Kirk and Bones. 

“I believe that there was some sort of biological experiment occurring on Tarsus IV. Based on your memories, I hypothesize that it escaped containment during development and contaminated the water supply, infecting both crops and settlers. Section 31 arrived after receiving Lieutenant Commander Parks’s message in order to protect the research investment and salvage any remaining data from the experiment. Finding Kodos alive was almost certainly an accident, but the knowledge he held made him a valuable resource. You and the other survivors required experimental medical care from doctors affiliated with Section 31 so that no one else learned of the true nature of the infection.” 

Spock’s voice was almost apologetic as he said, “Section 31 may have exerted such effort to keep you silent and isolated in order to hide the fact that it saved Kodos after the genocide, an action that would have opened them to investigation and prosecution if discovered. If you never identified the shuttle, and never told anyone that you had seen Kodos leave the planet, then they could allow you to live.”

“Holy shit,” Bones said, sinking down to sit on his desk. “Holy shit.”

Kirk bent over. He planted his hands on his thighs and hung his head. He stared at his black work boots and his uniform trousers and the familiar tiled floor of Medbay. So many details, so many secrets, and all of it hiding the truth. So many moving pieces, so much specialized knowledge, had to align for him to hold this information in his head, in his hands. Elise had weaponized his love for his crew, his sense of duty, against himself to cover up a Starfleet failure of the highest order. 

Kirk gave himself five breaths to pull himself together. On the first three, he felt nothing. On four, he connected his mind back to his body. On five, he stood up straight and planted his fists on his waist. His best friend paced across his office, arms crossed severely over his chest, blue eyes filled with worry. His husband, whose beautiful mind had picked through all the broken shards of information and given him the shape of the whole, stood across from him. And though he felt like he was full of wounds, he was still on his own two feet. 

“Jim?” Bones’s voice was gentle, and he realized they were both looking at him. His heart thundered in his chest, and it was a painful, welcome reminder that he was alive. 

“Do you want God’s honest truth, Bones?” 

“Sure, Jim,” Bones said cautiously.

“I’m almost glad.” Spock’s eyebrows shot towards his hairline. “After all this time, all these years…” Kirk inhaled again until his lungs stretched uncomfortably, and it was beautiful to him. “It feels better to know that it might mean something.” 

“How do you mean?” Bones watched him carefully.

“I do believe in luck,” Jimmy Kirk said. “I believe in miracles. And for years I’ve been unable to reconcile those beliefs with what happened on the colony. That I was there, and that it happened at all. I couldn’t rationalize it to myself. But now…” He paused, and tilted his head back, closing his eyes. He had seen and survived horrible things, and now he had the chance to make it matter. Despite everything, a smile grew across his face. “I saw what I saw. I survived what I survived. And now I have the chance to make sure Elise and Kodos, and all of Section 31 if I have to, are brought to justice. I don’t care if it takes me the rest of my life. Because I’m still alive, I can do this for everyone who died on the colony. For the kids that I protected.” He swallowed thickly, his throat dry, and looked at his friends. “And for me.” 

Without hesitation Bones crossed back towards him in three huge steps, face hard, and threw his arms around Kirk. “Jesus, Jim,” he said. “You’re gonna be the death of me someday, you know that, right?” 

Kirk hugged him back. “Probably. But at least it won’t be today.” Bones released him and stepped back, turning back to his console to look at something on the screen. Spock reached across to him again, running his hand from Kirk’s neck down his arm and back up again, before coming to stand next to him. Their shoulders pressed together, and Kirk leaned against him. Spock adjusted himself, pulling Kirk to rest against his chest, his hand coming to circle Kirk’s waist and secure him against him.

Bones shut down his console and turned to Spock. “Tomorrow, when you go through the records, I’d like to be there. I need to know what they did.”

“Certainly, doctor. I propose that we---” 

The wall unit buzzed three times, and all three of them turned to look at it. It buzzed once more before an officer said, “Captain to the bridge. Captain Kirk to the bridge, please.” 

“What the hell?” Bones asked, turning to him. Kirk frowned and shrugged, but he brushed his tunic down and straightened himself up. 

“Thank you, Bones,” he said. “For everything.” Bones nodded at him. “Spock, with me.” 

☆☆☆

He and Spock arrived on the bridge to a hushed and nervous crew. The beta shift comms officer, one Lieutenant Ortiz, looked to Kirk as soon as he stepped out of the transporter. 

“We got an emergency message over subspace, captain. From outside of Federation space,” Ortiz said. 

“Put it on the main viewer, please,” he said, and Ortiz tapped her console. The viewscreen flashed. Then the video message opened. For a few seconds, there was only static, cresting and falling in volume like a wave. There was a shrill, piercing sound that might have been a scream, and the booming echo of an explosion. Then the picture resolved into something recognizable.

“Please,” a haggard face begged. Both his voice and the camera were shaking. “This is Overman Dima Marcus, of Kindinos IV. If there’s anyone out there---” There was another explosion, and the image juddered. “If anyone gets this message, please. Help us.” 

#spirk #spirk fan fiction #k/s #k/s fan fiction #fake married #regulatory relations #tos fan fiction #my writing

[darehearts]

this pertains to my portrayal of James T. Kirk in the marvel universe ! note that i am more than happy to plot or discuss further details as well as incorporate events that are canon to your muses regardless of what verse they are in, mcu or 616 or both ! i'm quite flexible with plotting. plus i love coming up with personalized AU's. instead of writing out Jim's entire life story, i will provide some bullet points / facts. this post will be a LIVE DOCUMENT that i will come back to and update, later on reblog as necessary when there are updates.

The events of Star Trek (2009), Star Trek Into Darkness (2013) and Star Trek Beyond (2016) are going to be absorbed into the MCU timeline directly. Star Trek (2009) roughly takes place around after the events of Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2. Star Trek Into Darkness (2013) takes place around the events of Captain America : Civil War, and Star Trek Beyond (2016) will take place before Avengers: Infinity War.

Now that we know where the movies fall on the timeline, i'll make the rest of this post as separated as possible so that it can be easily read. if there's any detail that's modified will be here.

Jim is still a farm boy from Iowa, however he has a big brother by the name of George Jr. who becomes a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and is killed during the events of Captain America : Winter Soldier. there's a partial guilt that he feels because Jim had begged his brother not to leave him and go to New York, so there's a subconscious part of himself that regrets not asking him to stay hard enough. that perhaps if he did, he'd be alive today.

his father still dies saving hundreds of people and ultimately saving Winona and Jim's life in the process.

above point adds to Kirk's reluctance in joining Starfleet — a direct subcategory of S.W.O.R.D. however Captain Pike still finds him, and still manages to convince him to join the force, reminding him of his father's achievements as an Air Force pilot.

he prefers S.W.O.R.D. to S.H.I.E.L.D. because of what happens to his brother. it takes him many years before he truly decides to believe in the cause he's serving. he won't work at S.H.I.E.LD. unless absolutely necessary.

Jim's mother, Winona, is mostly absent in Jim's life partly due to her being a single mother having to provide for her kids, but later the reason ends up being her efforts to establish S.W.O.R.D. so she's off world very frequently. she works in the Air Force until she starts focusing on this.

in this verse, Khan is a genetically engineered Kree. races such as Klingons, Romulans, etc. are simply absorbed into the marvel universe without any changes.

during Infinity War, the majority of U.S.S. Enterprise dies in the snap, leaving Jim mostly by himself for those five dark years. he refuses to be tied to any organization besides S.W.O.R.D. however agrees to help Captain Marvel in various off-world missions, mainly serving as a pilot, or as an undercover agent to gather intel. after the events of Endgame, Jim is united with his crew once more and is out in deep space more as explorers, peacekeepers, and eventually, Jim becomes the representative of Earth in the galactic council. he also establishes relations with the Guardians of the Galaxy and Knowhere becomes a frequent "starbase" for the Enterpise.

anyway i'm gonna add more to this in the next few days as i complete my yet another rewatch of the movies but have this for now !

#| ★ VERSE DROP #all right slapping this here first thing!