Standard Disclaimers: Paramount own all these characters. I own the idea.
Intimate Contact
by elfin
And so the days passed. The Neutral Zone was quiet, but they
hadn't expected anything else; time to recuperate, time to heal. It had
been a rough ride, for all of them. For Riker and Geordie as they had
sat in the tiny, rickety Phoenix and watched in horror as their own
ship fired on them. For Beverly, and Lily and the rest of them who were
spaced, sent down to the planet to watch their new ship explode. For
Jean-Luc Picard who faced his enemies, the objects of his nightmares,
who had to give himself to them again, in his mind, to try to save a
friend from a fate he understood. And for Data, who fought through so
many unknown emotions to save the ship he called 'home'.
Data sat quietly at a table in the new bar on the Enterprise-E.
His and his crew-mates' abilities to cope with the loss of the old ship,
the endless days on Earth waiting for the new Enterprise, Worf leaving
them to take up his post on the Deep Space Nine station, and then
settling onto the new ship so fast, so easily. But then they'd been
thrown into a nightmare situation with the Borg, his new home had become
unsafe, threatening, a hellish place to be.
Ever since *she* had switched it on, as she held him captive and
afraid, he had not altered the state of the emotion chip. Part of him
wanted to know if he would cope with what had happened. After four
nights of waking, screaming, from dreams that relived his torture at the
hands of the Borg Queen, he'd decided to see Counsellor Troy. She had
asked him what he dreamt of, could he pick one or two distinct times
from his imprisonment that disturbed him the most. And he'd nodded.
Pain. After they'd drafted the skin to his arm, and he'd escaped his
bonds, one of the Borg had slashed the new skin open. His senses had
gone wild; searing agony through his sensor net, tears in his eyes,
terror flanked him, he had been unable, for a moment, to speak, to move,
to do anything but cradle his arm and wish this wasn't happening. And
the next time, at the end, when he'd smashed open the cooler unit with
his arm; when the new flesh had been burned away by the coolant. All he
could do afterwards was slump against the instrument panel, watch Picard
and hope he could find the energy to speak.
There was something else then, something that had crashed through
him when his captain had taken his hand and helped him to his feet.
When both had realized that the other had saved his life. Human
contact. Something he longed for now. But that was something else, and
he hadn't mentioned it to Deanna.
Talking about his fears had helped. His dreams were quickly
becoming less frequent and less vivid. The memories of being in so much
pain, of being so scared, were fading. New synthoskin, created out of
necessity by he and Geordie, had left him looking darker, more human,
less like he'd been painted gold and sprinkled with a sparse amount of
glitter. Yet his amber eyes still looked miserably into his drink, out
at the stars passed the floor-to-ceiling windows that formed the outer
walls of the new bar area. There was something that the Borg Queen had
given him that hadn't hurt then, but that hurt now, because it was no
longer there. She had made him feel special, wanted, desired. And
later, when Picard had found him, slouched, exhausted, in pain, he had
read feelings in his captain's eyes, feelings that made him feel the
same.
So Data sat confused, and filled with an overwhelming sense of
loneliness.
Jean-Luc Picard had finally decided it was time to stop skulking
around his quarters lost in memories of what had been and what might
have been. He headed for the new ten-forward, finding himself glad, not
for the first time, that Guinan had come aboard this Enterprise as
well. As he sat down at the bar he looked around the empty expanse.
Too late in the night for most, only one other seat was taken; Data was
sitting staring out at the stars through the transparent expanse of
hull. As Guinan quietly poured his drink, he murmured, "Has Data been
here long?"
"About two hours."
"Has he said anything to you?"
"Just asked for a drink and thanked me. Five times. Each time he
seems no more intoxicated than the previous one." She read the
expression on Jean-Luc's face. "Is there something wrong?"
"I don't know."
She set his drink down in front of him. "Maybe you ought to find out."
Data sensed someone near him and looked up.
"May I join you?" The android nodded and the captain sat down;
even though he looked more human with the new synthoskin, Data's
movements and mannerisms had remained as they were, it was warmly
familiar to be sitting with him. There had been so much that had
unsettled them recently; the incident with the Borg had happened too
soon after the move to the new ship. People had adjusted quickly, but
the shock of evacuating this Enterprise.. it had all happened way too
fast, and now everyone needed time to relax and recover. Picard felt as
if his own emotions had been wrung through and hung out to dry, it was
anyone's guess what Data was feeling like.
"Data, are you all right?"
The android looked across at his captain, meeting blue eyes with
his own amber gaze. "I am attempting to work through all the separate
emotional states that I encountered during my time with the Borg." He
couldn't remember the last time he had told such a blatant lie to a good
friend, but he couldn't tell him the truth; that he was sitting
contemplating his feelings for the Borg Queen and shifting those
feelings to another.
Jean-Luc thought for a while, remembering the parts that he knew
and trying to guess at what had happened in the gaps. "They violated
you, Data..."
The android nodded, "More than you can realize. But for me, the
feelings were real, even if they were not for her..." He stopped
suddenly; he'd said more than he'd ever meant to say. Damn his
inability to know when to be silent; he had learnt tact and respect for
others' feelings, why couldn't he learnt it for his own. Picard was
staring at him, trying not to look shocked and failing miserably. He
had had no idea, no perception of what his second officer had been
through. Now, though, he understood Data's comment in Engineering, when
he'd told him that a part of him was sad that she was dead. But
Jean-Luc couldn't share those feelings; the queen had put him through
hell, given him nightmares that would never leave his sleeping hours, he
wasn't sad that she was gone. He was ecstatic.
"What did she give you Data?"
"Herself. Myself I suppose. She trusted me... more than with
duty, or life, with her." He looked back out at the stars. "She was
beautiful. She made me feel special."
The intimacy of the confession touched Picard, his voice lowered
to a low whisper in respect. "You are special, Data. You belong with
us."
"Is that why you came back for me?" He turned his head, wanting
to see those feelings again in his captain's eyes.
"I went back for you because you were there for me. And because
you're my friend." He wanted to say more, say that he heard the Borg
song, heard Data singing it and knew then that they had taken the
android against his will, assimilated him somehow into the collective.
He wanted to say that he wasn't about to leave his friend to that fate,
that he couldn't blow up the Enterprise, leaving Data alone, unable to
escape, unable to do anything but know that the end was coming. He
wanted to tell the man that he couldn't imagine life without him around,
didn't want to live without the constant wonder and innocence that Data
brought to all their lives. But he didn't say any of those things.
Instead he watched Data nod, put down his drink and stand up. "Thank
you, for returning for me. It meant a lot."
Picard was left staring at the android's back as he left the bar.
Wondering where he'd gone wrong, why he'd worsened Data's morose mood,
rather than alleviated it.
Back in his quarters, Data sat on the couch, cat in his arms,
revelling in the warmth his pet provided him. He'd seen it, those
feelings, burning in his captain's eyes yet not echoed in his words.
Data longed for something more, even though he knew the problems it
would bring, he wanted Jean-Luc to admit to it. Hungry eyes. He wasn't
sure where the phrase had come from, but it seemed to be the description
he was looking for to describe the way the captain had looked at him, in
Engineering after the queen was gone, and then just now, in the bar.
Hungry eyes. He looked across at his reflection in the mirror on
his bedroom wall. Placing Spot gently on to the floor he moved across
to it, watching his own movements, regarding his own body in a way that
was new to him. He was slim, attractive? Self-appreciation was
something he was still getting used to. The new colouring helped. He
lifted the base of his uniform shirt and pulled it off, over his head,
throwing it on the chair next to his tunic. Moving to the replicator he
ordered the computer to produce some typical men's clothing. Soon he
stood wearing soft, dark slacks and a black, low-cut top. He stared at
himself for some time, noting the subtle change in the way he felt,
simply because he had altered his outwards appearance.
He pushed the long sleeves up his forearms, and stared at the
place where the Borg had attempted to graft on human skin; flesh that
had hurt beyond reason when it had been injured. He did not want that
pain, wasn't programmed to deal with it - that's why his sensory net had
almost overloaded, causing him to panic. The memory flashed back,
unstoppable; memory of staring out through the haze of pain at the queen
who was doing this to him, memory of trying to run, of being forced
back, to surrender, and then something had changed, he'd felt an emotion
so strong it obliterated everything else, the pain, the fear, all were
shadowed by the feeling of desire, and the rush at being able to fulfil
his wants. That was why he was sad that she was dead, even though he
had killed her. She had enabled him to let go, to indulge his wishes,
to feel so much more than he had ever felt before. He wondered if he
would ever get that chance again.
Captain Picard was sitting cross-legged on his bed, his copy of
'Moby Dick' open in front of him. He wished he could concentrate on it,
but each time he reached the end of a paragraph he realized that he
couldn't remember what he'd read. He couldn't stop himself thinking
about Commander Data, about the man's eyes, his new skin, the way he'd
left the bar, disappointed by something. He thought about the private
moment, crouched down in Engineering, holding out his hand to the
stricken android, and the feelings that had spread through him; pride,
joy, need... How long had it been since he'd felt another person close
to him, holding him. And as he looked into Data's eyes at that moment,
he had read the same things there. But Data had been awash with
emotion; Deanna had commented on that when they'd all regrouped aboard
the Enterprise. She'd been worried that there was too much, that he
wouldn't cope with the onslaught.
Was that it then? Was Data expecting him to say something more in
the bar? Possibly not expecting, but hoping? Hoping for confirmation
that what he thought he'd seen had been right, hoping for permission to
tell Jean-Luc what he wanted to say, and not to be rejected. Picard had
wanted to live these passed ten years to one golden rule - no personal
involvement with the crew members. Twice he'd broken that rule, why
should once more make any difference. He laughed at himself, to
himself; *because the past two instances were with females, and now,
Jean-Luc, you're lusting after a male android - your second officer at
that*.
Not that it would be his first gay relationship, there had been
one or two guys at the academy. But this felt different, because this
was a man he knew well, a man he respected, a man he loved, when he
admitted to it. He rubbed his eyes with his fingers and tried to go
back to reading his book.
Data stood nervously outside his captain's quarters. People
passing looked at him, but he was ignoring them; he couldn't be
pressured into this. Eventually, he pressed the announce button beside
the door and waited, resisting the urge to run.
Picard lent to the side until he could see the door of his
quarters through the open partition, and shouted "come". He didn't dare
stand up, he'd been sitting there for so long his legs had gone to
sleep.
Data walked hesitantly in through the open door and heard it close
behind him.
"Data, come through." The android wandered into his CO's bedroom,
anxiety etched into his features. Picard patted the bed, "Sit down,
please." Data sat, one leg curled up under him in an oddly human
gesture, the other dangling over the side of the mattress. They sat in
silence, Data watching the floor, Jean-Luc watching Data, until the
captain reached out and placed a gentle hand on his friend's arm; "Data,
tell me what's bothering you. Please. I think I hurt you earlier on, I
didn't mean to and I'm sorry. Talk to me."
He stepped off the cliff that was between him and his captain.
"Everything I went through with the Borg Queen was frightening." He
raised his eyes, met that questioning blue gaze, "Everything. I knew
the only way was to destroy the coolant container, but I also knew how
much it was going to hurt... the Borg had already shown me that. All I
could do was sit there, against the panels, I hadn't got the energy or
the.... heart.... to do anything else. And then you were there, with
me, asking me if I was okay, helping me up." Picard went to speak, but
Data lifted a hand, stopping him. "Please, I have to finish. You have
no idea how much courage this has taken." Jean-Luc nodded, fell silent
again. "The emotions that I felt then I cannot ever find the words for,
cannot even describe. I thought I read the same emotion in your eyes,
but I know now that I was wrong. I just had to tell you that, so that
you knew."
Jean-Luc sat silent, stunned at the android's eloquent speech,
shocked at the knowledge of how Data thought he felt. The android
shifted, and Picard realized that he was going to leave. "No, Data,
you're wrong. You did read the same in me, I simply didn't have the
courage to say anything. But I wanted to. And now you've said it for
me, I don't want you to leave, because I don't want to lose you again."
Data's amber eyes shone with hope, and Jean-Luc reached across
slowly, smiling as he placed his palms flat on the bed and touched
Data's lips with his own. The fire ignited, neither of them had the
power to stop it. Picard's arms came up, his hands cupped Data's face
as the android's arms encircled his body, pulling him closer, impossible
in the positions they were in. The kiss broke, Picard laughing as they
struggled to move, to touch each other. The copy of "Moby Dick" hit the
floor with a muffled smack, the sound lost in the mirth of the men on
the bed.
Clothes were removed, lips touched skin in a dance of passion and
desire. Face to face, at one point, Jean-Luc whispered, "I've never
heard you laugh so naturally." And Data simply replied, "I have never
had reason to before now." The kiss that followed was deeper, more
urgent. When they sat naked together, each admired his new lover,
running palms over smooth skin, teasing, licking, until the need and the
want overwhelmed them. Jean-Luc found himself begging Data to take him,
needing so desperately to give away the control and the responsibility;
wanting to feel dominated as well as loved. Data was gentle, giving his
captain what he asked for, savouring the burst of emotion and feeling
that came with every movement he made inside this man's body. The
senses were flooded as a tidal wave hit him; but unlike anything he'd
experienced while a prisoner, this was amazing, this was exciting, this
was something he wanted to feel more of; as much as he could feel.
Climax shook them both simultaneously, burning from within,
rocking them together. They lay in silence, until the laughter bubbled
up once more. Picard turned onto his side to meet Data's joyful eyes.
"Thank you." The android reached up and kissed him softly. "Thank
_you_. I never imagined I could feel anything close to that. You have
given me so much already, and now this..."
"Anything Data, anything I can show you, please, don't hesitate to
ask. As for _this_, there's a lot more to it, believe me."
"Will you show me?"
Jean-Luc smiled, kissed his new lover. "Everything."
It had been a rough ride, for all of them. But for Data and
Jean-Luc at least, they had found a way of dealing with it.
fin.
elfin