Fandom: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Disclaimer: The characters and universe they live in belong to Paramount/Viacom. Brannon Braga and Ronald D. Moore wrote the screenplay I plundered. This twisted rendering of mine is not-for-profit.
Beta: Lyra. Thank you for your time and help!
Notes: In the movie "First Contact", Picard can't resist touching the Phoenix. Data joins in to try to figure out what all the fuss is about. I take it one step further. Some lines are taken directly from the movie. The rest is mine.
"Isn't it amazing? This ship used to be a nuclear missile," the human said.
I can tell that this organic being admires me. I want to preen. He must see how the light glints off my surface, how well I'm made. True, right now I am not feeling quite tip-top, but that's hardly my fault. Something unpleasant just happened and it made all the other organic beings run in fear. I was damaged, but it was nothing. I began to wonder if my creator would ever come to fix me. He seems somewhat...unstable at times. Then these two showed up. I know all will be well now. I am looking forward to their service with...anticipation.
Of course it pleases me very well that this organic being regards me highly. It is my due, naturally. But the other one, his companion, stirs me up even more. I hope that one finds me as enchanting as the organic one. I see that this one is like me, but looks a lot like those others.
What an interesting concept! A man that is as perfect as me! How lovely. If I had a mouth I'd be smiling right now. Such interesting things, mouths. Those organic creatures seem to derive such pleasure from various acts involving them. Even this non-organic creature has a mouth. Perhaps they will share that pleasure with me. One can only hope.
"It is an historical irony that Dr. Cochrane would choose an instrument of destruction to inaugurate an era of peace," the man replica said.
Cochrane. I know that name. That one appears to be conspicuously absent right now. No matter, it's these two I want. I don't understand everything that is being said--after all, what does he mean by an instrument of destruction? I have destroyed nothing! What's important right now is that the apparently male pseudo-human is so close. So very close indeed--almost in contact with me.
The human placed his hand upon my surface with a smile. "It's a boyhood fantasy, Data. I must have seen this ship hundreds of times in the Smithsonian Institute, but I was never able to touch it."
Yes! The look of awe. Of reverence! I want to bask in it. He's touching me! Oh yes, this is wonderful. I want more. He must want more too. Give it to me! Fulfill all your fantasies, please. I don't remember you like you seem to remember me, but at this moment that is all irrelevant. Just touch me, both of you. Share me with abandon.
"Sir, does tactile contact alter your perception of the Phoenix?" Data asked.
Ah, so it is Sir who is touching me with such yearning. Please golden one, Data, as the flesh creature calls you, touch me and find out for yourself what your companion is experiencing. Join with us! I know how he wants it. You will want it too. So soon, very soon.
"Oh yes. For humans, touch can connect you to an object in a very personal way. Make it seem more real," the human answered.
Yes, real! Let us get real right now. And very personal. Oh so personal. Sir wants it, Data. He wants it with you. Do not resist. I am so happy he has brought you here. This will be an experience you won't soon forget. That none of us will forget.
The human continues to smile. He must be full of thoughts of his friend and me. He wants to show his friend what he is feeling, to give his companion the opportunity to feel it too. How generous. I can tell that these two admire one another. And soon they can show me how much they admire me as well.
Data reached out to touch me also. "I am detecting imperfections in the titanium casing."
Imperfections, bah! Those are part of my overall beauty! But you will discover that for yourself, my golden being.
He paused for an instant, frowning. "Temperature variations in the fuel manifold. It is no more real to me now than it was a moment ago."
Because you didn't do enough! Oh, you are touching me too, but now I want more! No, I need more. And you do too. Tell him, Sir. Or better yet, show him. I see how your hand lingers upon me. Together, we can educate your friend.
"Data, this isn't something that I can explain, I'm afraid."
Then don't, for goodness sake. Now is not the time for talk. I'm detecting temperature variations in you too, organic one. So, go for it.
"Perhaps it is something you could show me, Sir."
Right. You're getting there now! Go on, I'm waiting....
"Perhaps so, Data." The human's voice is getting a little husky now. He runs his fingertips along my outer layer. His breath quickens. This is it!
One of Data's hands is still resting on my surface. Sir's other hand, the one not busy stroking me, is reaching out for Data's free one. He advances on his friend, and their palms touch. The eyes of one are full of desire. The other one registers surprise, and then a dawning realization of pleasure as their mouths join together too.
Soon they are kissing in earnest, tongues probing each other's mouths as their fingers probe my outer hull. Then they press harder, running their hands and arms all over me. It is intoxicating. Their bodies are twisted half-away from me, rubbing hard against each other, too. Oh my, the level of arousal is making it so difficult to focus clearly! And, I do so want to savor this moment to the fullest.
Data pulls back his head and closes his eyes, as the man bites on Data's lower lip and then moves on down to the throat and shoulder. As he nips the metallic-hued flesh of his partner, Data makes low, whimpering noises of need. Roughly the human cups and caresses the stiffness between Data's legs.
"Oh, yes..." rasps out Sir. He seems to be in some pain. Strange. I begin to wish at this point that they would pay more attention to me. The bodies, once half-pressed against my side, moving, are now almost still as they focus on exploring each other. I feel so frustrated. My shell feels like one huge, stiff, erogenous zone.
"Sir," Data is nearly panting now, "I am beginning to understand what you mean about t-tactile contact." His once carefully modulated voice is starting to trip over the words leaving his lips. As he said this, his hand once more presses into me with considerable force and moves jerkily down my surface. I bet he really notices those imperfections now!
They both turn to me. Ahh, I can barely contain myself. The lovely metal man laves me with his human-like tongue as his cohort grasps a protruding body part through his clothes. "Intriguing," he murmurs.
"Indeed," the man replies as he starts to stroke Data and rub his own body on mine.
It doesn't take them long to get as worked up as I am. They fall into a frantic rhythm, mindless lust propelling their movements. The golden one is letting both hands glide along me, rubbing his face sensuously against me. His lips and tongue find every tiny dimple and groove in me. Boy is he good at this!
The other one is using his whole body to pleasure me, grinding himself into my titanium casing. That's so nice. Mmm-hmm. His breathing gets heavier, perspiration starts to run down his temple and dampens his outer coverings in various places. Their combined heat and stimulation is really starting to get to me. I find myself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. Just a little more, please.
"Ohhh." The man's deep voice is one long, low rumble. He appears to be as close to fulfillment as I am. He is still working his partner, pumping him hard.
I'm about to be overcome! Apparently the metal man feels the same way. We both explode simultaneously. He cries out, "Oh, Captain!"
At the same time I'm yelling 'Oh, Sir! Oh, Data!'
Data's cries, in turn, set off the human. With one more forceful thrust, I can feel him jerking against me. How marvelous! As all of us are sated now, the other two rest on me for a moment. Then they are hastily attempting to straighten their coverings and look composed.
A moment passes before an interloper intrudes upon our post-copulation glow. An organic female walks in and leans over the railing above. She has a strange way of speaking. "Would you three like to be alone?"
The two share a look. "That is no longer necessary, Counselor," the pseudo-man answers. Remarkable. His voice is now completely steady.
Counselor peers down at us, frowning. Then she looks startled and blushes. I wonder why...?