Lost Past; A Star Trek Story

Paramount Global owns the Star Trek franchise. This is a piece of fan fiction based on Star Trek the Next Generation.

Dreaming

     Data’s mind was a million miles away. He wasn’t thinking about Westerfield

or the Loomderian. He was dreaming about the first time he and Sher were intimate. They were sitting under the willow tree. She was nestled in his arms.

     The wind was gently blowing. Everything about her captivated him. It didn’t matter what perfume she splashed on. It didn’t matter what clothing she wore. It was her essence; her very state of being thrilled him. The most enticing part of her was her voice; that accent that no other creature in the universe had. “You were telling me what the villagers thought of me.”

     “What about those narrow minded folks?”

     “You can read their thoughts?”

     “Yes.”

     “Can you read my thoughts?”

     “Sometimes.”

     “How? I am a machine. I thought only humanoids could send and receive thought patterns?”

     She knelt in front of him, placing one hand on each knee; she rubbed her nose

against his. “I am just as different a creature as you are.”

     “Tell me what you want right now.”

     “You tell me. She smiled. “No, that would take the fun out of it.”

     “I do not know what to do.”

     “First, you want to be confident and in control, firm yet gentle, authoritative yet submissive.”

     “There will be a time when I should be submissive?”

     “Oh yes, women like to be commanding and in control, just as much as men do. Whom ever you are with will guide you to how she feels.

     With one swift motion Data pulled her to him. His hands trembled against her back. When he kissed her neck his lips were quivering. “Confidence.” She encouraged. He steadied his hands as he continued to kiss around her neck. He could feel through his lips, her pulse was quickening. He could feel her breath against his hair. 

     “Am I doing this right?” He whispered in her ear.

     The wind from his whisper created cold chills down her spine, she moved closer to him. “Yes,” she hissed nibbling on his earlobe.

     He woke to the sound of the fire crackling, its light cast ghostly shadows on the wall. He pulled back the cover to realize he was nude. He found her in the kitchen, sitting at the table. “How did a real sleep feel?”

     “I do not remember anything.”

     “I have read that even when you don’t remember your dreams you have dreamed about something.”

     He knelt in front of her. “How did we get here?”

     “You carried me.”

     

     “When?”

     “What do you remember?” She asked with concern, caressing his hair.

     “We were under the willow tree, I was kissing your neck.”

     “That is the last thing you remember?”

     “Yes. Is that normal?”

     “I guess we will have to live and learn.”

     “Meaning?”

     “I don’t know if that was normal or not.”