Chapter Two: As You Wish

Word Count: 3938

Disclaimer: Star Trek Does not belong to me. I just love it a lot.

Excerpt/teaser: "I have a personal request, Viola." Her face rotated to his as he continued, "My internal chronometer tells me that we are fifty-five seconds from the Terran new year. I know that it is custom to give what is called a New Year's kiss. Would you be willing to join me in this ritual?"

Location: Starship Enterprise; Ten Forward

Time: 2300 Hours

"So, she just left you standing there in cargo bay four?" Geordi La Forge smirked at his dear friend before sipping down the last of his beverage and placing it on the edge of the bar in Ten Forward. The party around them was lively with an intense energy. Bodies were pushed up against each other, O'Brien ended up jostling Data against a nearby wall as he spun Keiko around in a dizzying ballroom waltz.

The smile on Keiko's face was one that could only be described as pure love and rapture. She clung to her husband with a voracious happiness. Data's lips teased at the corners in what might be construed as a lopsided smile. There for a moment, but gone in an instant. If Geordi had been paying attention, he might have commented upon its unusually wistful quality. A memory fired in the android's brain – dancing with Keiko at her wedding. She had worn a similar smile on that day.

"S'orry, Mr. Data!" O'Brien called over his shoulder, his Irish brogue laced with a slur of whiskey. It would seem that someone had brought real alcohol aboard after journeying to Earth on a short leave.

"Yes. It was very unusual behavior."

"Do you think that she likes you maybe?"

"I find it unlikely as we only spoke for approximately three minutes. As a matter of fact, I think the opposite. The redness in her skin could have indicated anger or frustration. I also suggested that she could potentially be ill." Data recalled the memory to the forefront of his brain: her facial features, the "blush" as Geordi had informed him spread across her cheeks like a cosmic cloud burning in the darkness, the click of her heel as she receded from view, and last but not least – the traces of lavender she left in her wake.

Geordi shook his head, "Well, the only way to really find out would be to ask her."

"Question the source? Indeed." Data went to walk away attempting to seek her out but was jerked by Geordi pulling him.

"Whoa, there buddy." Distress was written in the fine crease of his brow beneath the curly thick mass of his hair, "You can't just do that!

"But I –" Data paused as Geordi shook his head again more forcefully this time.

"I think a little reconnaissance is in order." A conspiratorial grin flashed across his lips as he looked around, "Do you see her anywhere?"

"You mean for us to spy?" Data was puzzled. He had never known his friend to be truly covert in any of his activities with women.

"No, just…observe for a moment or two. That's probably her right?" Tilting his head back toward the far left corner of Ten Forward in the direction of a book clutched tightly in a pair of small hands, a lump of mussed hair peaked over the top of the pages. Her nose appeared almost literally to be in the book.

A wandering hand fell from the book to grope uncertainly about for a half-full glass of red synthehol. Lifting the crystalline glass to her lips, she gulped down what was left with an eagerness of a woman dying of thirst. She wasn't paying any heed to the surrounding environment nor to the loud whooping of inebriated crew members. She wasn't with anyone, and no one seemed interested in speaking to her. Data noted that she was reading The History of Kahless in its original Klingon script. She flipped a page before placing the book down on the table huffing a deep breath and with an air of finality and exhaustion plopped her head on the pages ruffling them with her sighs.

In that moment, Data observed a familiar tall, dark figure approaching the table. It was Worf. He must have been dragged here by Deanna to socialize with the new crew. He had been significantly worried about the change in the crew that people found him particularly intimidating. Worf has never been known to talk freely had even when he did so, he rarely had many words to share. He could hear them clearly from his position as they spoke.

"Ah. The History of Kahless. A brave and proud Klingon warrior." A half-smile lurched onto the dashing Klingon's face. A cup of prune juice was clutched tightly in his hand, and it was already almost gone.

Viola's head popped up from the book immediately; her glasses askew on her face, "Yeh-ess. Er- what?"

"Your book," Worf gestured with an index finger toward her chosen piece of literature.

Smoothing out her tunic and adjusting her eyewear, Viola paused and looked at the Commander intensely, "Oh yes! I was just reading six pages about the armor he chose to wear in his battle against Molor."

"Mhm. Yes, I suppose that part could be seen as a little bit dry for humans. I am Commander Worf. May I sit with you? Miss. .?" He gave her an inquiring nod. She returned it in kind with a small dimpled smile of her own.

"It's Robinson, Viola. I'm trying to gain a deeper understanding of the mythology in various cultures so that I can better help the Captain. He specifically requested me for my abilities in Exolinguistics to assist communications with the Tamarians, and I have a plan to present to him tomorrow morning at 0800," She rocked her head as though to clear it of clutter.

"Tamarians are an interesting people. They communicate through metaphor and allusion to their history. From what I understand, they seem to be very friendly, but also brave and willing. It is admirable," Worf knocked back the remaining contents of the glass.

"I just want to do my best to honor them by creating a clearer understanding between the Federation and the Tamarians. Not to mention, I want to be good enough to be here. Everyone on this ship is of the highest caliber. I hope that I can live up to the expectations," She rested her cheek in her hand and began to trace the rim of her cup with a lone fingertip. Worf thought very carefully about his next words. To Viola, those moments seemed to last an eternity.

Worf leaned back in his chair to observe the woman before him. She was the picture of an instructor in almost every way – she was also an anxious mess if he had ever seen one. Viola was worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. He could almost see the scenarios of imagined failures pass through her mind. He had seen this on many a young ensign before beneath his command, unsure of their capabilities and strength, when certain of his words he spoke measuring each word carefully, "If I know anything about our Captain, it is that he doesn't do anything without being certain of his crew. If he chose you, he has faith in your abilities."

Viola tipped her head down accepting the encouragement with a red face, "Thank you, sir. I think I just needed a little Klingon wisdom to lift my spirits, and I was seeking it in the wrong place." She tapped the hardcover of the book with two fingers.

"You know there is an old Klingon proverb, it goes, 'Mere death is not defeat;/And in the next world I shall kill the foe a thousand times,/Laughing,/Undefeated,' Not only does it mean that in death we will always be victorious, but also to never give up in the face of failure. Laugh in its face and fight with your teeth bared to the sky above," He bared his own teeth in a predatory grin. A giggle slipped from her mouth which she suppressed behind her hand.

"Thank you, Mr. Worf. I appreciate your encouragement. I am quite the fan of Klingon proverbs myself, but I do prefer the poetry much more. There's something very organic and guttural about it."

"You know Klingon poetry?" He raised a brow in surprise.

"Yes. I have some trouble with the pronunciation sometimes because translations are rarely exact. I especially love Ju'naal's work. How does the poem go…? Oh yes." She paused, closed her eyes and began to recite, "'jIghoSta' neH Hurgh /'Iw vegh DI/'uQ'a' jIH ghaH SoH.'(1)"

When she opened them, Viola was pleased to see Worf nodding appreciatively, "That wasn't too bad. It really needs to come more from the back of the throat. When you say, 'jIghoSta' neH Hurgh', you are not getting the harshness of the words and they lose their potency."

"See? What did I tell you? At least I didn't make the mistake of swearing this time. . .my professor at university always used to tease me because I made that error during an exam in front of the whole class. I almost ran away in tears!"

Data began to tune out their voices realizing that he was once again eavesdropping as Commander Riker had said earlier today. Maybe this was to become a bad habit of his? He may have to reexamine his morality protocols if this was going to continue.

"She seems to be having a good time with Worf which is kind of unusual." Geordi was watching the two exchange conversation with relative ease.

Data turned to his friend whilst still keeping an eye on the table with Viola and Worf. Geordi ran a hand through his hair, he turned to gesture to the bartender for another drink, "She seems to be okay, and if Worf likes her – she can't be bad. Do you think….Hey! Data, wait up!"

Geordi stopped mid-ramble to see his friend approaching the table and scrambled to keep up with him but was unexpectedly intercepted by the twirling dancing of Chief O'Brien and Keiko which thrust him back against the bar.

Worf glanced in time to be eye level with Data's sternum. He stood from the table abruptly completely in duty mode, "Commander Data, is there something you need, sir?"

"Excuse me, Mr. Worf, but may I speak to Ms. Robinson?" Viola's spine went completely rigid at the mention of her name. Worf gave a curt goodbye and was gone into the crowd without a moment's hesitation.

Data's face was gentle and open. He was handsome by human standards. The curve of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the slick of his dark hair all held a marvelous appeal to Viola. The dim light of Ten Forward only served to give the android a haze which caused her to swallow hard into the back of her throat.

"Wha-ah-t do you need Lieutenant Commander?" The words came out in a sputtering, jittering mess and Viola inwardly chastised herself for her childish reaction. She was acting like a nervous graduate student about to give her final thesis on the exolinguistic limitations of the universal translator all over again. Why was this man causing this to happen to her? She had been so confident earlier this morning. Where had that courage gone? The vulnerability she was experiencing was irreconcilable. Had she asked for wine instead of synthehol?

By the time she returned to the present, Data had already taken his place in front of her. His hands resting in his lap looking at her expectantly with his piercing golden eyes. "Ms. Robinson, I have a personal inquiry. May I ask it?"

Viola pursed her lips and held his gaze, she steeled herself, "Yes, you may, Lieutenant Commander."

"Why do you not like me?"

A crease drew itself up through her brows, "Not like you?"

"Yes. I was observing you interact with Lieutenant Worf, and you did not seem agitated as you were when we met earlier this afternoon. I would like to know why. Have I done something to offend? If so, it was not my intention." Data leaned imperceptibly further while Viola pushed her back deeper into the cushion supporting her. She couldn't lie to such an earnest face.

"It's not that I dislike you, per se. You… you make me nervous," She hung her head in embarrassment at her own admission.

"Nervous?" Data puzzled through several reasons why she may be experiencing this emotional response, "Is it because I am an android?"

"No!" Her outburst astonished even her, "I mean – no, of course not. Don't misunderstand. It's not that at all. In fact, you being an android is one of the reasons I find you so…" She bit her tongue searching for a different adjective to hide behind.

"Interesting." A whisper barely, but Data heard her.

"What about me do you find interesting?" Viola was certainly not ready to divulge the fact that she had spent a good thirty minutes with the ship's computer requesting information about Data as soon as she returned to her room post their brief encounter.

His accomplishments were nothing to laugh at. He was decorated, honored, and respected by everyone it seemed. His actions were very human- which made him a mystery. Viola couldn't fathom why anyone would want to be human when they had the option to not be. The intensity of his stare made her feel naked and exposed before him.

Suddenly, the room felt very hot and oppressive. She became aware that the conversation was too personal. The people too loud. The room too small. Her breathing grew panicked. Not now. Calm down. Not now. Viola stood quickly to leave. She wasn't about to have an anxiety attack in front of all these people. Logically, she knew that this panic was unwarranted, but the tightness in her chest was overpowering. Her lungs felt like they were starting to shrivel in her chest. "I need to go."

His eyes followed her while she shakily maneuvered around the table. He calculated her respiratory rate and temperature based on the now present flush of her skin. "Your temperature is rising again, Instructor. I could escort you to sick bay if you are feeling ill or are you just blushing again?" The startling question came without malice from the android, but it was jarring nonetheless.

"Again?" Viola heard the shrillness in her voice. "I-I-It's just hot in here, there are a lot of people around. I need to cool off."

"The arboretum would be cooler around this time. We keep it on a 24-hour cycle for the plants. We are in a night cycle right now, so the temperature would be considerably less," Data stood to follow. It seems he was quite unwilling to go without an answer. "I can show you if you want?"

Viola looked down at the book clutched in her hands, debating the pros and cons of following the android and seeing where this conversation might lead. Her knuckles had started to bleach white before she gave her answer. "Oh-okay."

Data placed his hand on the small of her back to guide and steady her through the crowd and out the door. Such a simple gesture, and yet it wasn't. Viola felt the familiar prickle of embarrassment crawl up her skin to her neck and behind her ears which turned a deeper shade of red if that was possible.

The doors whooshed open to let them out into the hallway, Viola felt a hundred times better when not enclosed by all the people. She took a breath.

"If you ever want to go anywhere, you can simply ask the computer and you can follow the yellow guiding lights," Data pressed his fingers to the wall console and demonstrated; his hand summarily dropped from her back.

They followed the lights to the turbolift in silence. Once inside, his golden eyes stole a quick glance at her, watching her release the death grip she had on the book. "You can call me Data if you wish. Deck Seventeen."

"Is it really okay? The officers at my previous post always requested that civilians address them formally. I believed it was a Starfleet protocol or something."

"It is not part of a protocol, and I would find it agreeable if you would." Viola smiled to herself at this. His head tilted cutely to the side. She was learning that his robotic movements were meant to mimic that of humans. He tried quite hard to make himself acceptable.

"Then you could call me, Viola. Instead of just instructor. I would like that."

"As you wish…Viola." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye again.

She turned to examine his striking features: the way his skin almost glittered in the light. She had never met anyone so seemingly out of place and time as Data. He was ethereal. It was comfortable being with him. Just between Ten Forward and the lift, she felt the tension easing. The turbolift announced their arrival and they made their way to the arboretum.

"My parents named me after a character from Shakespeare's Twelfth Night. They were both teachers. My father teaches poetry at a University on Earth, and my mother taught the young ones in a school near our home." She tried to fill the silence. Viola had never been good at small talk or unanticipated lulls.

His eyes moved back and forth as they walked, she could almost hear his processing speed tossing around information as he searched for the play. "Yes. Viola falls in love with Duke Orsino while she is masquerading as a eunuch. A comedy."

Arriving at the arboretum, Data let Viola walk in first gesturing with a straight arm for her to go before him. "Mhm. I must have a proper gentleman on my hands." Viola chuckled, feeling the anxiety fall incrementally from her shoulders, left forgotten in the hall like breadcrumbs she would have to follow later. When she didn't have to talk about her budding physical attraction to the android, everything was easier.

"I try my best to be courteous. I am currently testing out older forms of chivalry to see how they hold up to the test of time and if they are still considered acceptable."

"It's sweet that you consider other's comfort – that's better than most humans if I'm being honest."

The arboretum was bathed in a silver light. The night cycle was cool; mist coated the air. They were alone in the room. Some of the plants were bioluminescent and glowed a heavenly blue when the pair came into close proximity. Viola took a seat on a nearby bench surrounded by white and pink peonies. She patted the place beside her encouraging Data to sit down.

"It's beautiful here. Thank you for bringing me. I needed a quiet place. I don't do well in crowded spaces for a long time – I start to get anxious if I'm not focused on a task like reading or a deep conversation." She wiggled the book in her left hand for emphasis before setting it down.

"I do not understand. You are not under any threat here. What causes you this anxiety?" Data sat and angled his body toward her, their knees brushed. Viola could feel the warmth radiating from his body through his uniform. If she didn't know better, it would be easy to mistake him for a human male; he even breathed. His chest rising and falling at a steady, predictable rate.

"Well, that's a little harder to explain. If I was pressed, I would say that it's because I'm afraid of a lot of things. Most everything, really. Failure and disappointment scare me the most. Darkness, crowded places, wide open spaces, tight spaces…the list goes on. My counselors have diagnosed me with generalized anxiety. I'm neurotic." She laughed mirthlessly and tossed her head back to examine the ceiling to avoid the prying gaze given by her companion.

A frown wormed its way onto Data's features, "The level and appearance of safety do not affect this anxiety it would seem. Is there anything that does not frighten you?"

Viola tapped a finger to her chin in thought. "Different doesn't. I'm not fearful of new places or meeting new people. Teaching students. Learning new things. Writing. All of those are exciting to me. It is during those times, that I feel most myself. New opportunities are a chance to…to recreate myself, to try again without fear."

Leveling her gaze, she smiled dimples dotting her cheeks on either side. He looked at her without judgment which was more than she could have asked for. Most people gave her a wide birth once privy to her diagnosis. Panic and Starfleet are oil and water. The memories of her attempts to get into Starfleet as a science officer caused a dark cloud to form over her face and the smile faded. She could never be part of Starfleet – the psychological exam was an enemy she could ever conqueror.

They sat in the quiet for a few moments, both pondering and analyzing.

"I have a personal request, Viola." Her face rotated to his as he continued, "My internal chronometer tells me that we are fifty-five seconds from the Terran new year. I know that it is custom to give what is called a New Year's kiss. Would you be willing to join me in this ritual?"

Viola froze. He couldn't possibly understand the emotions he was causing to well and bubble beneath her rib cage. "Tha-that's mostly reserved for co-couples, Data."

"Oh. Do you have someone with whom you would rather share a New Year's kiss?" His words were blunt instruments to her psyche.

"No! I don't have anyone, but I…" Viola had to remind herself to take a deep breath before she started to hyperventilate. Sweat formed on the bridge of her nose causing her glasses to slip down. She pushed them up roughly in frustration while she stood to put distance between their bodies. "We just met, and I don't think it would be appropriate."

"As you wish, Viola." He followed her lead coming to stand beside her respecting the distance. "I have made you uncomfortable again. I apologize."

"It's not your fault. I'm the one who should apologize. My reaction was a little much I suppose. You just wanted to gain an understanding. Look, I can't kiss you-" Even though she knew he couldn't experience any emotion, she sensed disappointment radiating from Data. "-on the lips. A kiss on the cheek is something I could manage though. A kiss on the cheek, in most cultures, is a gesture of friendship and affection. As I would like to think we are friends now, I believe that would be appropriate."

An approximation of a smile stretched Data's mouth, one which Viola returned with a heaping helping of a blush.

"We have five seconds left of this year."

Viola steeled and swallowed whilst positioning herself before the handsome android. "Four." She was a good six inches shorter which required her to place her hands on his shoulders pulling him down as she counted down in a breathy whisper with Data.

"Three." His hands found their way to her waist to aid with balance as she rose onto her toes to reach his face.

"Two." She wetted her lips meeting his ever-powerful gaze; her breath caught in her throat.

"One." Her mouth pressed against the crest of his cheek. His grip intensified on her hips pulling her closer, but she resisted, he relented, so she stepped away.

The moment was gone.

"Thank you, Viola. This has been an enlightening experience." Viola nodded mutely.

She made up some barely unintelligible excuse about being tired and having to get up early for her meeting before speed walking from the arboretum to her quarters.

(1)seeking in the dark/ blood through skin/I feast upon you