Chapter Text
His thumb ran a circle over my hip before his hand rolled over the dip of my waist and up to smooth over my ribcage. I pretended to still be asleep, suppressing the smile that was desperate to burst from me. I felt him shuffle down the bed so that his face was right next to mine on the fluffy pillow.
“Rebecca.”
His whisper was right against my lips, his nose grazing my cheek, as his hand moved over my back and down over my bottom.
“I am aware you are awake. Your deception is not particularly skillfull.”
My body moved as I stifled a giggle, “Shush, I’m asleep.”
He moved his head so that his lips were right next to my ear as he whispered: “That is unfortunate.”
I felt him move away from me, his lips and hands no longer teasing me. I couldn't keep up my silly pretense and reached for him as he was slowly, too slowly, getting out of the bed. “I’m awake! Please come back to bed and whisper more things in my ear.”
Having the curve of his little smile as the first thing my eyes saw in the morning was something I could repeat for the rest of time. My heart swelled as his hand returned to its natural place and he pulled us together. He hitched my leg over his hip as I grasped his face and kissed him eagerly. He stroked over my thigh. His hand seemed to admire the exaggerated dip in my waist caused by my raised hip, and a little hum of appreciation escaped his lips onto mine. He kissed my jaw and down my throat.
“Rebecca, I require your consent.” His lips didn’t leave my skin as he spoke.
The phrase had become imbued with eroticism, it was his statement of desire, his want for me. It sent a surge through me, flooding the space between my legs with heat. My throat dry with lust, I swallowed, “I consent.”
His hand curved over my backside, then he ran his fingers over my exposed wetness. I reached between us stroking down his firm stomach, finding his ready hard cock held just away from me. I wrapped my hand around him, gliding up and down his smooth shaft, as his hand moved over me, matching my rhythm. He hitched my leg higher over his hip, gripping it so he could pull us together and push into me with one long thrust. I let out a whine of pleasure into his mouth and he responded by circling his tongue around mine in a deep wet kiss. His strong hand held us firm as he increased to a rapid pace pushing in over and over again. I clamped my hitched leg to him and forced us closer, and him deeper. I grasped my fingertips into his shoulder. He buried his face into my hair, his noises, the animalistic grunts, leaving his mouth and purring into my ear, tipping me over the edge. The climax ran through my body, juddering me against him and clenching my fingernails into his shoulder blade. I would have marked up a human.
Breathing hard as he released me, I flopped back on the bed, eyes closed, my hands above my head, the sensation shimmering over me. Nerves alight and tingling. I moved my limbs just to feel the sheets under me. A static, that marked the energy between us, let me feel his hand before he made contact. As he touched, it sent another jolt through me. I opened my eyes to find his, but his gaze was occupied with taking me in, following his hand as it smoothed its way over my tender flesh. Reaching my breast, his thumb ran over my hard nipple and my body arched into his hand. He sucked my other nipple roughly into his mouth, his tongue playing over it, and I groaned and ran my fingers through his hair. His eyes flashed up at me from his lowered position, almost like a leopard stalking his prey, before they softened and the tiny curved smile appeared again.
I bit my lower lip, “God, it’s sexy when you look so pleased with yourself.”
He leant up and kissed me firmly before laying his head against my shoulder, too close for me to see him in focus.
“I must leave for my duty shift in 12 minutes; I believe I would prefer to remain here, with you.”
“You know I’d prefer that too, but you have to go to your job.” I added with exaggerated drama, and a hand to my forehead, “Otherwise how will we put food on the table for the children or get little Timmy his medicine.” I giggled at my own silliness.
He nuzzled into me and ran his hand slowly over my lower abdomen, in what felt like a not too subtle reference to the reality of us having children. I pushed the thought aside. “Did we get new orders, did you say that would happen today?”
He pushed his lips into the crook of my neck, and breathed me in before sitting up, clearly deciding that he did have to go to work. “We have orders to proceed to a planet called Mudor Five to assist with an engineering project. We will arrive there in 2 days, 7 hours, 13 minutes.”
I rose and followed him to the shower, I sat on the edge of the bath in my orange silk dressing gown and watched him wash himself in the beams of sound. Efficient movements and calculated timings appeared almost as a piece of modern dance to me, I was enraptured by the beauty of the form and motions.
Stepping from the shower, he raised an eyebrow at me questioningly.
I shrugged, “You're really beautiful.”
He dipped his chin, “You are experiencing the effects of oxytocin.”
He dressed and left, and the intense effects of the happy sex hormones ebbed away. I ran over some of the things from the last day in my head. Things do seem so complicated for us, until they’re not. We can work things out together, as partners. It was an unusual confidence; a confidence in our combined power or skills. On our own these things elude or confound us, but together maybe anything is possible.
I smiled to myself, clearly the oxytocin was still pretty strong in my bloodstream.
I got breakfast and coffee, tucking myself onto the sofa under the dark windows, and opened the messaging function on a PADD. There was a note from Haoze to get in touch ‘soon’, and a reminder from Counsellor Troi that we had a session today, which felt like good timing. I messaged Keiko, to apologise for not messaging and that I could see her this morning.
I checked my schedule, the appointment with Troi was this afternoon, and there was a performance by Riker’s band this evening. Keiko responded, inviting me to her quarters anytime this morning. Now felt like the right time.
Keiko greeted me with another warm pregnant hug, holding onto me for a little bit longer than was comfortable for people who aren’t really friends yet. She looked over me like she was checking for damage, “I am so sorry about what happened on Melona Four. It must’ve been terrifying! I know it’s selfish, but I am glad I wasn’t there.”
A man’s voice pipped up from behind her, with a slight tone, “Keiko! You can’t say that!”
She stepped aside to speak to him, “Rebecca knows what I mean. Don’t you Rebecca!”
He was clearly the husband. I couldn't remember his name, but he was Data’s friend too. I held my hands up in a non-committal gesture, and smiled at them both.
Keiko laughed and spoke to her husband more softly, “Didn’t I tell you she was perfect for Data.”
The husband heaved himself from the sofa, with exaggerated effort, and stuck out his hand to me, “Miles O’Brien, nice to meet you.”
He was a square sort of man, with a matching square head, complimented by curls of blond hair. His accent immediately caught me.
I stuck my hand in his, suppressing a grin, “Rebecca Custon, nice to meet you too. You’re Irish?”
He caught my accent and my amused look immediately, and turned from me to his wife, dramatically sighing, “She’s bloody English? I thought you said she’d be good for Data?” He glanced back at me with a twinkle in his eye, letting me in on the fun.
Keiko was aghast, looking from me to him, “Miles! How can you say that? Apologise!”
Miles fake grumbled, “It would be better if the English apologised first. They’ve got more to be sorry for.”
Keiko looked horrified at her husband.
It was hard to imagine this dark not-a-joke joke was still going 300 years later. I had no idea how far I could take what was essentially casual bigotry in this time, even though he started it. I tilted my head and jokingly looked as apologetic as I could at the man I just met, “I’m so sorry about your… erm, potatoes?”
Miles roared with laughter. I laughed along too. Keiko was open-mouthed confused which seemed to add to Miles’ glee.
He patted me on the shoulder, “She’ll be alright, maybe too funny to be a real English. How much Irish is there in you?”
I gave him a sideways look, my thirteen year old boy humour knew the next sentence, and he absolutely should not say it to me and especially not in front of his heavily pregnant wife. Fortunately, if he knew the line, he didn’t let it out.
Keiko was shaking her head, “You two are joking?”
We both nodded.
“Have you met before?” She asked, confused.
We both shook our heads, and then laughed again.
Keiko looked disappointedly at both of us, “I’m going to get the tea.”
Miles was still chucking, “It was nice to meet you, English.” He strode out of the door and I thought I might’ve made another friend.
Over small cups of green tea, Keiko and I discussed the plant life on Melona Four. She wanted my impressions for the record that would be made of the now dead world. We talked about the discovery of the cave fungus, and the opportunities that insects presented. I was interested in her work, and she seemed really enthusiastic about what I was saying, and my take on things.
“Have you considered working in botany?” She looked at me expectantly, like when someone thinks you’re going to like the same music or hobbies as them.
I shook my head, “No, never. I don’t think I’m a scientist. I really enjoyed the work on Melona, searching out a new environment. Exploratory foraging I guess you could call it. I think I was good at it.”
She was earnest, “You were good at it, all the reports said so. I’ve never heard that phrase before, ‘exploratory foraging’, but it fits perfectly; I’ll make sure you’re credited when I write it into the record.”
We chatted for a little longer, but the visit was clearly draining her, so I gave my thanks and goodbyes.
The corridor outside the O’Brien’s quarters was empty, “Computer, Rebecca Custon to Ensign Wong Haoze.” I called to the ceiling, pretty sure it would work.
A moment passed, “Hi Rebecca, I was just talking about you, well about Jack and Rose. Where are you? Want to meet me somewhere? Your quarters?” She was her normal frenetic self.
I grinned up at the ceiling, “Sure, I’ll head there now.”
In the room Hoaze began busying herself by the replicator, and talking about a movie night to show Titanic. She was tapping on the display screen and speaking at the same time, it was a bit like watching Data be ambidextrous. The machine buzzed into life and a pile of fabric materialised. Haoze held it up to herself, it was a long Edwardian style gown of heavily embroidered green satin, it pooled onto the floor. She grinned at me, “We can dress up!”
“Oh, that kind of movie night, like going to the theatre! I thought you meant a pyjama party!”
Haoze looked at me with definite amusement, “I think ‘pyjama party’ might’ve meant something different in your time.”
“What does it mean now?” I was intrigued.
“Basically a code word for orgy.” She laughed, “I mean, you know I’m down, and I think I could rally some others… I’m not sure your Commander Data would be up for it though.”
I laughed at her, I thought I could probably convince him if I wanted to. “Yeah, I don't think an orgy is in the cards for me right now. Thanks for the heads up!” I was certain I could convince Data to dress in a stiff collared Edwardian dinner jacket; he already liked dressing up as Sherlock Holmes from that era.
“Let’s set a date for movie night! We need to book a holodeck, get it on the shipwide briefing. Give people the dress code and behaviour models.” She was really getting carried away, and was back at the replicator tapping again.
She handed me two pairs of ivory silk gloves the replicator had made. I didn’t know if I was being put forward as the host of this event that Haoze was excitedly curating. “When are you thinking this will happen?” She ignored my words and handed me a bundle of blue silk and cream lace, much heavier than it looked.
She stripped down to her regulation black underwear and tried to get the dress over her head, but her constant energy meant that she was just wriggling around and the dress was getting caught on something. “Stop, Haoze! Let me help you!”
With some complicated twisting we got the dress on her; for some reason mine was much easier. We looked like proper ladies. We laughed and pranced about the room, bowing and curtseying to each other. I thought we needed bustles and fans, Haoze thought we needed tiaras.
We flopped down on the sofa in the slippery dresses. “Does the computer even have a copy of Titanic?” I asked.
Much later, after very carefully eating Risian flower puddings, with our pinky fingers extended in the most ladylike ways, we found that the film existed, but it was an extremely niche request from a collector. We might be able to order a copy to be sent as a data packet to a starbase that we would visit in the next few weeks. Deflated, Haoze and I looked through the available films in the computer’s files but none really appealed to either of us in the same way.
We were debating our situation when a voice called into the room through the invisible intercom. “Counsellor Troi to Rebecca Custon.”
My eyes grew large, and I whispered to Haoze, “Shit! I forgot I have therapy!”
She responded in a hissed whisper, “You’d better respond!”
“Hi Counsellor Troi, I’m so sorry! I’ll be there in just a moment!” I looked down with panic at my elaborate dress, which was clearly a costume, and Haoze rolled around on the floor with laughter.
I regretted the decision to be less late as I stepped through the door of the Counsellor’s office. She looked up from her lilac chair and seemed to realise all the embarrassed feelings that were coming off me were to do with the outfit I was wearing.
I cringed, “It’s a costume, for a film night… I’m sorry I’m late, it’s so rude of me, especially for something as silly as this.” I flounced the dress slightly.
Troi didn’t look annoyed, but indicated that I should sit, “You have some things that you’d like to discuss today?”
Clearly I was meant to get on with it, “Yes, it feels like a lifetime since our last session, so many things have happened in a week. Is it always like this?”
The Counsellor tilted her head at me, just communicating with her large dark eyes.
She was right, I was stalling.
I took a deep breath and told her all about my breakdowns, the grief, the narcissistic ex, the realisations, the revived pain. The rollercoaster of intense emotions, the confusion and distress of not being able to identify my own feelings. How I’d been hiding it from myself, and how I didn’t know how to move forward with it.
She helped me as she had before, guiding me to the answers I already had, steering me around imagined obstacles, and using my inherent stubbornness and self-righteousness as tools to give me confidence in myself. She was an incredibly skilled therapist. I left feeling like I could trust her, trust myself, and trust Data.
Haoze wasn’t in the room when I returned, but on the table there was a tiara encrusted with diamonds that surrounded a large blue stone cut into the shape of a heart. It was gaudy, ridiculous, and irresistible. I’d never worn a tiara. In the bathroom mirror I arranged it on my head. With my hair still in the poofed Edwardian shape that Haoze had sculpted, it fitted neatly. My reflection was absurd, a time traveller from the past, wearing ancient clothes, in a spaceship from the future.
I plopped onto the bed, intending to read from the PADD until Data came home, but it seemed my body quite enjoyed an afternoon nap.
His lips pushed onto the back of my hand, “Awake, Princess Rebecca!”
He kissed my lips very lightly. I grinned and squirmed in the bed, waking up my body with the thought of him. I opened my eyes and saw the golden gaze of Data, and just behind him the grinning face of Geordi La Forge. I recoiled, immediately sitting up and worrying about what the other man was doing in my bedroom.
Data’s guileless face seemed to think this was amusing, “Geordi suggested that you appear to be dressed as a princess, the ‘Sleeping Beauty’ from the Brothers Grimm tale ‘Little Briar Rose’. And that I should wake you in this manner.”
I pulled my hand from his, ostensibly to remove my tiara, but I wanted out of this situation before I tipped fully into anger. I walked into the lounge, it was obvious that I was not amused. A collection of things were placed on and around the dining table, a bonsai tree, a chrome sculpture, and stacks of canvases. I noted the face of a young woman on one of the paintings.
Both of the men were staring at me with different levels of concern. Geordi wanted to dip out, “I will let you guys talk…”
“Geordi, please stay a moment.” I managed a calm, steady tone, “I just want to be clear, you are the most welcome person in our home, you are our friend. I know you did not have bad intentions. However, from this point forwards, if you know or think that I am asleep, or I’m in the bedroom for really any reason, then that is not a space that you can come into. It’s private. Do you understand?”
He looked extremely apologetic, “I am sorry Rebecca, I didn’t mean to…” He nodded, “I understand.”
With a twitch of my lips I acknowledged his apology and released him to leave with a slight nod of my head. Data’s confusion was bearing down on me. The door closed behind Geordi and I relaxed the conflict from my body, Data needed an explanation not a boundary.
“I do not understand what has just occurred.” He seemed completely baffled.
“Geordi misjudged a situation. It was a misunderstanding. He thought it would be funny or sweet for you to wake me up like that, because I am dressed like this.” I gestured to my ridiculousness. “And it would've been if it was just you, pretending to be my prince, but I woke up and saw Geordi. He was in my bedroom, watching me sleep. Seeing my reaction to you. He was thinking about me like that, calling me ‘Sleeping Beauty’; it sounds sweet, but his intrusion made me feel very vulnerable. The fact that he misled you made me feel vulnerable. Feeling vulnerable, for a woman, is just another way to say that I was scared.”
Moving us together, I stroked my hand up through his hair, smoothing it down the way he likes it. He was still confused. “You were afraid of Geordi and of me?”
“I was afraid of the situation. Being asleep, unconscious, and not being aware that someone is there, watching you while you are unable to protect yourself is frightening. I know you wouldn’t let Geordi actually hurt me. I’m sure you could probably shred him into tiny bits with your bare hands if you wanted to. He didn’t mean to frighten me, but he’s still a stranger to me. He understands now that he did, and I made some rules so that he knows not to do it again. I need you to know that the rules apply to everyone else too. This is our home, and I am your girlfriend, and I need you to maintain those rules to help protect me.”
His eyes looked concerned and pained, “I failed to protect you. I did not consider any aspect of how the interaction might negatively affect you.”
I was making things worse, but I didn’t want to lie, he doesn’t need those types of lies. The pandering and ego stroking lies. “Data, it was just a misstep, a joke gone wrong. There’s going to be stuff like this between us; we’re from different times, places, planets. We’re going to have to work things out.” I picked up his heavy hand hanging at his side and brought it up to my face, holding the back of his fingers to my cheek. I looked up into his face until he finally turned his eyes on mine, and his hand took up it’s own strength, gently stroking. He let me move his other hand to my waist.
His eyebrows were still active, I could almost see them working things through, resolving some problems, returning again to others. I waited for his inevitable questions.
The brows pulled together and he formed an inquiry, “Do you consider it to be my role to protect you?”
“Yes. And it’s my role to protect you.”
He looked at me like I was a feeble organic incapable of matching his mechanised strength. As if to prove his unsaid point, his grip on my waist increased slightly. His fingers could simply push through my yielding flesh if he wanted them to.
“I am sorry I did not protect you on this occasion. I believe I understand.” His sweet voice and affectionate gaze rent any residual fear or anger from me.
I softened against him, “Kiss me, Prince Charming.”
***
Data sat us at a table right in front of the band. Riker gave me a little grin and wink combo, as he slid the trombone up and down. It wasn’t flirty, it was a knowing wink. I had no idea what it meant. Geordi was sat with Troi and Doctor Crusher, they all seemed to be good friends. I couldn’t see Worf or the Captain anywhere. The room filled up, Miles O’Brien and Keiko asked to join our table.
“Hello again English.” Miles grinned at me as he pulled his chair closer to mine, and Data helped Keiko into hers.
The band played well. I don’t really know jazz music, but the type of jazz seemed to be the rehearsed and structured kind rather than the freeform musical adventure it can be sometimes.
Riker chatted between songs, or interacted a little with the audience in his confident manner. He seemed to be avoiding our table, which I was grateful for.
“We have a special guest performance tonight. The band learned a new, very old tune, a very romantic song.” Riker looked from the wider audience straight into my eyes as if to say ‘You should’ve expected this!’. “Data, come up here and join us!”
I understood the wink.
The crowd clapped lightly, and Miles sort of elbowed me in the ribs. Data collected an acoustic guitar from the rear of the stage and set himself at the front of the band with Riker. The music began, it wasn’t jazz. I struggled to recognise the song until Data began singing in a twangy tone. My mouth fell open, and I knew that both Data and Riker were looking right at me the moment the penny dropped.
“Gonna find my baby, gonna hold her tight. Gonna grab some afternoon delight…”
Riker’s trombone was the harmony against Data’s voice.
I was the beetroot faced girlfriend, giggling and sinking in her chair in the front row.
I was sure the song’s lyrics weren’t as crude as they sounded coming out of Data’s mouth. It didn’t help that they were egged up by Riker’s trombone and the rest of the band adding in comical musical winks from their own instruments.
The song ended and the crowd applauded enthusiastically. Data put down the guitar and came back to our table, standing over me and reaching down to touch my still blushing face. I pulled him down and kissed him, maybe a little too much, but he lifted me up and dipped me backwards into an ardent kiss. Definitely too much for public shows of affection, even in the twenty fourth century. Riker managed to relieve some tension by playing a ‘swit swoo’ sound on the trombone. I giggled and pressed my face into Data’s uniform, before dragging him down by it to sit with me.
Data brushed my face again with the back of his fingers, the glow was fading, and then tucked his hand into mine. “Is your blush caused by embarrassment or arousal?”
Thankfully the band were playing again and no one, except I think Miles, heard Data.
With his hand pulled onto my lap, he rested his fingers around the inside of my thigh, circling his index finger over the soft flesh above my knee. I couldn’t stop staring at the side of his face as he watched the band. To everyone else, his placid countenance signaled an almost bored nullness. I could see the music move over him, the micro expressions or more like nano expressions. I subtly tightened my hold on his wrist, urging him to move further up my thigh. There was a miniscule change to the tilt of his chin, and I felt more of his attention on me. I focused on the specific points of contact between us, and I felt my heart rate jump as his hand slowly slid further up my leg.
Data knew when the song was going to end and stood up at that very moment, pulling up my hand with his. His eyes burning through me I understood and rushed to keep up with him. Riker didn't miss a trick and played what sounded like the notes from Etta James’ ‘I Just Want To Make Love To You’ as Data almost dragged me out of the room. The audience laughed a little. I felt my blush return.
As the turbolift door closed, Data ordered it to our deck and turned me into him. It wasn’t like when he slammed me into the wall and lifted my jaw, this was my Data.
He held me against him, searching my face, seeking something in my look, wanting something from my eyes, my hair, my mouth. I gave him everything I had, beaming the lust and love from my face into him. Seeing it reflected in his eyes when they finally settled on mine tore a deep hole in my heart, expanding it, filling the spaces with him.
God, it hurt.
I wanted the pain.
It was ecstasy.
The drug that was him stripped me of my power, limbs failing as he lifted me. He had strength for both of us.
He gently laid me on our bed, his softness was a balm to the brutality of my feelings. He held his soothing hand over my aching thudding heart. It calmed me, allowed me to focus on the present, on us.
“I want you. Every part of you, every beautiful part.” My voice was quiet but controlled. I wrapped my hand behind his head to encourage him down to me. There was the briefest look of disbelief or confusion from him before he let me guide him down to kiss me. The physical sensation of him, his lips, his touch, lit every fire inside of me. The aching need for him drove me, blindly pulling off my clothes and his. Grasping, desperate hands. His energy matching mine, his need so strong.
He paused, his eyes pleading. If there were ever an occasion that he might override his consent protocol this might be it; the thought of his unbearable desire shuddered through me in intensely lustful waves. I couldn’t be cruel though.
“Consent, I consent.”
The words were like a trigger on a gun. He swiftly hooked my leg over his arm and pushed into me without his normal restraint. Filling me so completely a deep groan of pleasure left my mouth. He rolled his hips against mine, setting a lustful pace. Every breath was a bleat of pleasure forced out of me. He let out a small grunt as I hitched my hips against him, spreading my legs wider and higher. The gathering sensation of orgasm focused and then exploded through me. The glittering lights behind my scrunched eyelids, my limbs spasming. My body tensed against him as he continued to thrust into me. The powerful clenching releasing a deeper growl from him, a beautiful inhuman noise.
I breathed into his neck, before I ran my teeth over his perfectly formed jugular. He adjusted us so that we could stare into each other's eyes. He brushed my hair back from my face, his gentle caring actions adding to the vast oceans of reasons that I loved him.
This man is my undoing, my beginning and end.
He was almost completely still. Inside me, surrounding me with himself, merging us into one being composed of organic and synthetic flesh; we had achieved the perfection that the Borg wanted.
There was really only one other way to combine ourselves together, a pact, a loving agreement to meld and consolidate our very lives. A marriage.
Pressed together I kept my voice quiet, “Data, I love you, will you marry me?”