summary: data takes a trip to deep space nine on a period of shore leave, and plays a game of racquetball with julian, leading him to question julian’s exceptional abilities. takes place around season 2 of ds9.
here it is on ao3!
The red ball whizzes past like a comet, barely missing Julian’s racquet by just an inch. The bump that follows indicates that the ball has reached the ground, signifying the end of the game.
“Good game, Data.” Julian congratulates, dropping his racquet to his side and stepping forward, gripping Data’s hand firmly as he gives it a hearty shake. Data returns enthusiastically, and Julian’s face lights up with the healthy afterglow of exercise combined with the delight of having such an exhilarating experience.
“And to you too, Julian.” Data returns. “You were only two points behind, and at times, I did feel challenged by your abilities.”
Julian beams, confidently. “I was playing to win.”
Data nods. “Indeed. Your speed and reflexes were exceptional for a human being.”
At this, Julian stifles a gulp, and tries not to be anxious. “I did play at the Academy. You’ve been quite a challenging opponent as well,” he agrees, wiping at his brow.
“But there is one thing I wish to ask, but I do not want to offend you.” Data brings up, tilting his head to the left. “May I go ahead?”
Julian presses his lips together, and rocks backward on his feet. “You could,” he says, shrugging.
“In all my years of observing humanoid life, I have never come across anyone else with your abilities. I have found that your speed of reflex has exceeded the normal human threshold by 15 percent, and I do not see how that is possible.” Data puts forward. He pauses, and Julian can almost hear the cogs in his brain turning, trying to come up with a logical explanation for his enhanced abilities. “Could it be possible,” Data begins again, “that some human enhancement was involved?”
Julian turns away, biting his lip. His heart’s racing in his chest as he denies Data’s claim, but he knows that Data has reached a conclusion. The only possible conclusion.
“All my life I’ve dreamed of being normal,” Julian confesses, his voice lowered to a whisper. He puts a hand on Data’s shoulder. “But I’ve had no say in it, one way or another.”
His gaze meets Data’s, and maybe he’s imagining it, but Data looks back with a twinge of sympathy? Pity? He’s no Betazoid, but he knows that deep down, Data does feel something. Maybe he doesn’t process it the way humanoids do, and maybe that’s why he doesn’t show it, but Julian knows that there was something there.
Data is so alive, so animated, but not yet human. But yet still he dreams of being human, being normal. He understands.
Julian takes another breath before continuing. “Data, I’m sorry to say this, but I think it’s best that we both forget this match ever happened.”
Data blinks once, and nods softly and subtly. Julian has no idea whether he can hold Data to his word, but his assuring gesture lets him forget about the consequences for now.
“Thank you.” Julian breathes, putting both his hands on Data’s shoulders. He’s standing so close now he can almost feel Data’s breath on his skin. It feels warm, and rich. He’s still an android, thinks Julian, but now he can’t be so sure.
“One more thing.” begins Julian, pressing his forehead against Data’s. “Could I kiss you? Right now?”
Data shifts slightly. “I would not be averse to that idea.”
“But would you feel anything? I’d feel it’d be a shame if I got all the enjoyment and you were just left– no, it just feels wrong.”
“I suppose there would be no harm in trying. After all, you were the one who helped me to dream, and at that time it seemed like the impossible.”
I'm at the Berlin airport and discovered this newly posted rare-pair: Julian and Data. Gettin' it on! I love their interaction, and not the obvious part. Data is perfect here.
summary: julian can’t help but find data mesmerising upon meeting him.
here it is on ao3!
“I must admit, Commander,” Julian starts, “I didn’t think you’d be so...personable.” He hesitates a little, trying to figure out whether ‘personable’ or ‘handsome’ should go in that blank.
Damn it, Julian, you’re captivated by that android. Then again, was it wrong to be mesmerised by him? For one thing, Data was a masterpiece. Sixty trillion operations per second. A storage of eight hundred quadrillion bits. These were already things he knew, from the journals and the reports. But there was something more, about Data. Something that went past all the wiring and the positronic brain nets and the synthetic flesh - something very distinctly (but not quite) human.
Data, human? Impossible. Julian waves off a thought. He’s an android. But yet there Data was. He’d only seen a glimpse of the professional side of Data, but it was captivating enough for Julian to want to find out so, so much more about him.
What does an android do in his spare time? Does an android feel happiness? Grief? Does an android have the capability to fall in love? Julian chases a few more thoughts into the back of his mind before he spurts them out and he has to stuff his foot in his mouth to avoid embarrassing himself. Those were deeply personal questions, and maybe he should start with the basics.
Like his hair. Data’s hair was a pleasant shade of brown, and slicked back. It looked silky, Julian noted, and he wondered whether Data had a hair regime. Or if Data’s hair ever grew at all.
And his eyes. Eyes are the window to the soul, the old saying goes. A sharp yellow, Julian wondered what lay behind those eyes. Does Data have a soul? Another thought pops into his head, and he waves it off yet again. Putting that aside, Julian finds that Data’s eyes complement his face very well.
His eyes graze over Data’s hand. It’s a pale, powdery white, and it looks soft. Synthetic skin. Does Data experience physical sensations? Another question, and Julian can’t help but blush a little when he imagines slipping his hand into Data’s.
“Doctor,” Data brings up, snapping Julian back to reality, “forgive me for pointing this out, but you seem a bit jumpy. From your stiff posture, I can tell that you are agitated, or nervous.”
That’s not helping, Data. That’s not helping at all. Pointing it out only makes it worse. “I’m fine, Data.” Julian gives a smile, hoping to assure Data.
“You are flushing.” Data cocks his head a tad to the left. “I take this as a normal response for humans, for when they are feeling embarrassed. However, I cannot find the cause of this change in your demeanour. Tell me, Doctor. I have always wanted to investigate human emotions, as I cannot feel them myself.”
“Well,” Julian lets out, “I’m just very, very nervous.”
“Very, very nervous?” Data asks. “I do not understand.”
Julian crosses his arms. “Well, it feels like a rush to the head. Thoughts might run wild. It feels like there’s a lot going on at the same time.”
“Oh.” Data gives a small nod, and a tiny grin shows. “Thank you, Doctor.” For a second, Julian’s gaze lands on Data’s lips, and as he turns away he can’t help but imagine how kissing them would feel like. Has Data ever kissed anyone?
“Oh, it’s Julian.” Julian blurts before he can stop himself. “I mean, you could call me that, if you’d like.”
“Julian.” Data pronounces the word smoothly, and stops. “But I still do not understand the cause of this, nervousness.”
Julian shrugs. “It just happens. Like all other human emotions.” This conversation better stop now, or I’m going to ruin everything.
“Like all other human emotions.” Data repeats, and he looks on with a programmed, blank expression, knowing that understanding emotions could might as well be an impossible task, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.
For the prompts, "I wouldn't change a thing about you" with Bashir/Data 😁 (only if you want to, of course!!)
takes place in an alternate universe where bashir is doctor soong’s lab assistant. based somewhat on the greek myth of pygmalion and his statue.
here it is on ao3!
Bashir wrings out the soft cloth at the sink, squeezing it between his hands until it no longer drips. “You know, if I were Doctor Soong,” says Bashir, loudly to the room, “I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”
The android, still in sleep mode, stands on the pedestal, silent as a brick.
Bashir balls up the cloth in his hands and crosses the room to stand in front of the android. “I like the way your brain’s wired, you know.” He mentions, stepping up to the pedestal. “Miles and I did it together. It’s probably not perfect, but it’s probably the most advanced emulation we could get of a brain in digital form.”
Bashir takes a hold of the cloth and wipes it across the surface of the android’s skin. “But Soong wants some changes to it. Something about your older brother, I think, but I’m not allowed to share it with anybody.”
He carries on, pretending that he’s actually having a conversation with the android. “But you wouldn’t tell, would you?” Bashir narrows his eyes, and peers at the one of the android’s intricately sculpted ears. “Are your microphones on?”
Bashir brings up the cloth to give the ear a good clean. “Da-ta.” He pronounces the android’s name, liking the way it sounds in his mouth. “I’ve worked on you with Doctor Soong and Miles for two years now, and I really do hope you’re worth it.”
He steps back to examine the android’s face. “Though I occasionally wish that he didn’t base your face off his. I mean, it’s not that you look terrible and all, but–hm.” His gloved hand lightly traces Data’s jawline, enjoying the feel of Data’s silky skin underneath.
“Now that I think of it–and it really sounds quite silly–but I think you’re really quite handsome. A handsome android. What a thought.”
Bashir catches himself staring at Data’s face for far too long, and he shakes his head as he continues to wipe Data’s face down. But there’s only so much cleaning he can do, and he finds himself brushing the cloth across Data’s lips in a very absent-minded way.
Hm. What would happen if I–
–no.
“I mean, it’s just ridiculous!” exclaims Bashir, throwing up his arms as he steps down. “Well, people do it all the time in art galleries, and it really is quite a silly idea, and if someone were to walk in on me, that would be–!” He crosses his arms.
He glances back at Data again, and he finds himself feeling a twinge of curiosity as he presses a hand to his own lips. He lowers the hand, steels himself and steps up to the pedestal.
If nothing good comes out of this, at least this might make for a good story to tell at parties.
In the midst of his excitement-fuelled haze, he hardly registers the click under the heel of his foot until it’s a bit too late. He pulls away, yelping as he trips over a carelessly placed toolbox on the floor, landing flat on his back in the most undignified manner possible.
The computer system whirs to life, and the console lights up.
Data blinks.
“Oh, I’m so sorry for waking you up,” apologises Bashir, scrambling to his feet. “It was a terrible accident, I swear!”
“Strange.” Data quizzically cocks his head to the left, signalling his confusion. “As my systems switched on, I experienced a some form of pressure acting on me in my first one point five seconds of conscience. Were you the one who–“
“Yes,” blurts Bashir, not giving Data the chance to finish. “I’m terribly sorry if you feel you’ve been violated, and I know I should not have acted on my impulses!”
“Since I am an android, I am therefore incapable of feeling violated.”
“But it was wrong, Data. Perhaps you’ll understand later.” Bashir steps around the toolbox and heads for the computer console. “I should probably put you back in sleep mode. Doctor Soong will be back from his lunch break soon and if he finds out that I’ve, well, switched you on at the very least–he’ll sack me, probably.”
“Wait a minute.”
Upon hearing the request, Bashir halts his actions and looks back at the android. “Yes?”
“May I know your name?” Data questions. “I presume that we will be working together in the close future, since Doctor Soong has entrusted you with his lab while he takes his brief leave.”
“Bashir.” He straightens up, extending a hand to the android. “Julian Bashir.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Julian,” says Data, gripping his hand firmly and shaking it.
Most people are interested in my extraordinary abilities. How fast I can compute, my memory capacity, how long I will live. No one has ever asked me if my hair will grow, or noticed that I can breathe.
