Monday, May 24, 2010

[USS Charon] SD241005.24 || Joint Log "After the storm" Part V || Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax, Brevet 1st Lt Brent Warren, Ens M'Riarr, Lucia&Marcello

=/\= Eris Deck =/\=


Brent winced as he heard the band start playing a different kind of music. His blessing told him when the wrong notes were played, but overall they seemed to do just fine. He removed the icing from Sakarra's nose and popped it into his mouth before winking at her and watching the festivities as a dance floor begin to take shape and form. "Hmm. Looks like a dance party is trying to begin," he smirked slightly. "I don't think I've ever danced with you," he said with a grin leaning over and giving her a single kiss just below her ear. "You should finish your drink my love so that I can take you dancing. Besides I think that your friends will stop bothering you if we get up and do something," he said.


"They also would cease intruding if we left." Sakarra pointed out – quite reasonably, she thought. Especially considering the fact she was about one more sip away from a hiccup.

But it was rather obvious that her beloved had other plans. And perhaps he was right – if they left now, she would never hear the end of it.

There was only one minor flaw in his plan. "Brent…." The arm around her waist tightened its grip in a most delightful way and the cool human breath tickling her eartip did not help, either "… I do not know how to dance to … this."


He grinned, a rather evil looking grin as Brent realized that he was going to get his way. He took her hand in his under the table and scooted out, having Sakarra go out with him. "It's alright. Nothing should be too difficult, besides," Brent said as the music changed to something slower. "I don't know how to do many dances either, but this dance here," he said as he brought her hands up and around his neck as they came to the dance floor and his hands moved to the small of her back resting there lightly as he looked down at the little Vulcan. He smiled as they slowly began to move around the room in a soft almost hypnotic dance. 


The look in deep sapphire eyes was an all too familiar one – but Sakarra was too busy keeping her mind and body focused, not to mention her face calm and composed – to do anything about it.

Of course he had no intention of making this easy for her and insisted not only on close physical contact but let his fingertips teasingly travel over a narrow waist before guiding her in slow, stately movements with gentle pressure.

Observation of other dancers confirmed that it was apparently customary for the male – or at least the taller person – to propose the steps while the partner followed. Well, that certainly explained Brent's smirk.


"Indeed." Neither Mr Tisdale's surprised grin nor Miss Betty's approving nod were lost on the young woman and it was thanks to the inherent Vulcan stubbornness that Sakarra did not put an end to this display right then and there. They thought one like her could not learn how to move in random patterns to such an uncomplicated piece of music?


"It would appear to be an activity that is suited to your … preferences, yes?"


"I have no idea what you are talking about," Brent said in a quite amused voice. He let out a deep sigh, watching the other people as they danced about to the slow music. "Really this is the way that the human youth normally dance where I come from, and at times at Starfleet Academy. Very few humans at least know the old dance steps that were created in the ages past. At least I don't and I never met very many people who knew them," he said and shrugged his shoulders. "My mother scolded me on that once before a dance at school, saying that I'll have to learn it someday or else I will be a disappointment to my future wife. In a fit of teenage independence I told my mother that I never intended to get married and would be a bachelor till I die." He chuckled at the memory. "Of course that send mom off to my dad who came in and scolded me for even thinking of such things."

Brent noticed that a few other people were looking at them and for a while he didn't see any issue with it. After a few moments though he made a shooing motion towards those who could not seem to find anything better to do. "You'd think that we were the only people dancing here the way that some people insist on staring at us. Your chef friend especially," Brent drew one hand up before pointing at his eyes before pointing and a pack of marines that were either snickering at their CO or up to no good. Neither was good for their health.


"He'elef ka hij." An elegantly slanted brow climbed ever so slightly and naturally Sakarra found herself pulled just a little closer. Of course one could make the excuse that it was to avoid brushing against other dancers – only the little Vulcan knew better.

"Being able to participate in ancient terran dances is desirable in a mate on your homeworld?" Apparently, there was no end to the nuances one needed to know about humans. Though she had to admit Olixinna had found dancing with her long-time human … acquaintance very amusing and even insisted on teaching her cousin some … rather interesting steps. None of which however seemed to fit this particular style of music.

It was just as well. Seeing a Vulcan engage in a 'Tango Argentino' might cause myocardial infarctions in several people who already seemed on the verge of hyperventilation now.


Another half-turn brought them past the band where Mr Tisdale took a vivid interest in the tall marine's posture – apparently, it was not satisfactory. Waving arms illustrated plainly that the male's hands were to be placed eight point four centimeters lower than Brent's and … well, that certainly was not part of a ritual, was it?

Most puzzling.

"It is somewhat of an axiom that Vulcans do not dance. The ... interest we appear to elicit is therefore understandable." But mildly annoying all the same.


And it wasn't as if there were no other points of interest. The way Ensign M'Riarr managed to swing a young scientist around in her furry paws certainly deserved appreciative glances. 


"I suppose that's more of a traditional thing. On my world we just had dances were people danced like we are now," Brent said as he ignored her comment that he immediately knew what it was that she said. "Most of the other dances would be used in the court of royalty in Western European kingdoms," he said relaying the brief bit of history that he knew. He chuckled at her words until Brent looked down to where his hands were at now before looking over at the Mr Tisdale and shook his head no at him. This was as much of a public display of affection as Brent felt that he could get away with for now. At least he felt no need to outright grab Sakarra's ass at the insistence of the chef in Eris Deck.

Brent motioned at his dance partners subordinate and smirked, slowly swinging himself around so that she could see what he was looking at. "It would appear that your assistant is quite enthusiastic about that science ensign there," he said.


"I have never known the Ensign to be anything less than enthusiastic in matters of social interaction." As a matter of fact, the Caitian was positively restrained at the moment – possibly due to the circumstance she did not wish to cause undue distress for the smiling human in her paws.


She should have seen it coming. Actually, she had seen it and calculated perfectly the impact angle and probability of more than one candle going airborne (ninety-seven point four percent). But there was simply no way to catch either the poor Caitian or the tablecloth in time.

Encouraged by his dance partners happy purr, the young scientist had decided to give the furry lady what was commonly referred to as a 'twirl' and like many others underestimated the impact a Caitian's tail can have. Especially if said large lioness was spinning.


The white cloth wrapped itself around golden brown fur, sending dishes and a sputtering candle into the air. Amazingly enough, Brent picked a ballistic glass out of the air before even the little Vulcan's quick reflexes could come to bear and despite her small and slightly muffled sound of protest turned around so his broad back was shielding her from any more flying objects.

But even pressed against the marine's muscle armored frame Sakarra could clearly see that her projections had been correct – the impact of several plates had dislodged more candles and the sharp scent of spilled moonshine lasted only until a 'whoomph' sound dispersed it in favor of a blue flame.

Oh dear. This was distressingly familiar.


A wide eyed M'Riarr did her best to extinguish the flames before any more damage could occur – aided by ever practical Lucia who simply emptied an ice bucket complete with champagne bottle onto the burning table and the poor Caitian – but there was still a fair amount of fabric wrapped around her excitedly swishing tail, clearing another table and …

Sakarra snatched the glass from her Companion's hand and let it fly in one smooth motion.

Factoring in terran standard gravity and thick atmosphere it should …

The candleholder collided with a glass three point two meters before it could have impacted the bar and subsequently incinerated the wide array of liquors awaiting thirsty patrons there. Unfortunately it then proceeded to bounce of Marcello' head as the Italian emerged from behind the bar with more ice water.

Oh, no …



=/\= To be continued =/\=


Brevet 1st Lieutenant Brent Warren
Marine Commander


LtCmdr Sakarra Tyrax

Chief Helm


Ensign M'Riarr

Assistant Helmscat


Lucia & Marcello


USS Charon



He'elef ka hij  "Oh yes you do."