driftfleet | (no subject)

Oh.

[The syllable contains polite interest, if maybe just a little confusion. Is he supposed to be upset or jealous? Because he isn't. It's just a mildly interesting fact about Beverly.]

But your relationship is no longer of that nature, then.

No. Though she is a very attractive woman.

[Might as well admit it, right?]

I just don't want you to think that attraction between us would or should change anything between you and I.

[Jealousy she doesn't expect from him. In fact, it would greatly surprise her if he did exhibit any signs of it. But she can see him coming to the false conclusion that she would prefer Wrath or would be happier with her, given his doubts about his suitability for a relationship.]

It's only natural that you would feel attraction to people, Beverly. Thank you for telling me.

[It's still a puzzling admission to him, but okay. No problem.]

You're still friendly with her, I presume?

[She huffs out a little laugh - must be a human thing to worry about. He's not the only one learning how to do this, after all. So much of what she knows of how to be in a relationship has shifted. It's not wrong or useless per say just... different, with him.]

I am. I'd say she's one of the people I'm closest to in the fleet.

This is a good thing, then.

[He shakes his head.]

Sexuality is generally very casual, on Aurora. I haven't always seen it treated the same way elsewhere, or here, for that matter. I understand that sometimes, past relationships are not so easily dealt with.

[She nods, recalling what he told her that day in the bar.]

We are much more sexually liberated than in the past but most humans I know still lean towards monogamy, though that is in no way a strict rule of any sort. It varies from culture to culture and person to person - even more so when you consider other humanoid species. For example, Denobulans have practiced polyamory for centuries while Klingons tend to only have one partner in a lifetime.

[She frowns.]

The past... can sometimes make things more complicated than they ought to be.

[Jack and Jean-Luc come to mind of course, but so does Odan.]

Evidently so.

[He continues stroking her hair for a moment or two, silent.]

Some cultural variation is, of course, expected. I doubt very much any one method is better than any other. What is more important is that those who are exceptions to the cultural rule are accepted, as not all would be content under the same rules. That is in part, after all, why Lady Gladia emigrated to Aurora.

Of course, past experiences shape future actions.

Mmm. More than we even realize sometimes. After Jack... well. You know about that.

[She drops his gaze, thoughtful as he continues to stroke her hair.]

Yes. I'm sorry.

[He leans down to kiss her, because he doesn't know a better way to communicate his sorrow and his sympathy.]

Death is... not easy.

[She understands completely. Sometimes a kiss - or a touch, a hug - can communicate so much more than words can. Can mean so much more. As he kisses her, she reaches up to place a hand on his face, her thumb gently stroking his cheek.

Oh you're very much in trouble here, Bev, aren't you?]

It never is.

[She thinks about how he shut down, just for a minute, at the discovery of the death of a friend. She may not be a robot, but she certainly understands feeling suddenly as if your systems can't operate properly any more now that this person you love so much is gone.]

If I leave before you do...

[Deep breath. She doesn't quite know how to finish that.]

If you leave, then while I will miss you, I will at least be content in the knowledge that you would be home safe, with your friends and family, where you belong.

[He's silent for a moment, thinking.]

Beverly, what is between us will one day end. You will tire of me, or one or both of us will return home, or I will have an accident and cease functioning, or you will die. If the last, I dearly hope it is a peaceful, natural death of extreme old age, as you deserve. The thought grieves me, but I will be... richer, for the experience of having known you. I would hope you would feel the same.

[Good. He can put to words what she couldn't - or perhaps wouldn't - though there is a tiny rumble of displeasure when he says "you will tire of me," like he's an old dress to be cast aside or a book she no longer wants to read. Never. Beverly Crusher does not tire of people, does not stop caring, even if the way she cares and the intensity of her affection may shift.]

I would. I do. I just hope you never have cause to doubt that, or forget it.

[She runs her fingers through his hair, bringing her hand to rest gently at the back of his neck.]

I will never forget it.

[Disbelieving or doubting might be a little harder, but he's pleased all the same. He turns his head to kiss her palm, remembering the intensity of this moment, the way she looks at this exact moment.]

Would you consider it an intrusion if I were, later, to draw you as you are now?

[The kiss earns him a soft little sigh, but then she meets his gaze with wide-eyed surprise when he asks to draw her. She does not feel particularly beautiful at the moment, certainly not worthy of being drawn. Still, looking at his face, at how he's looking at her, how on Earth could she ever refuse him?]

And yet you will still try to claim you don't know how to be romantic, won't you?

Edited 2016-03-26 00:20 (UTC)

[He blinks, slowly.]

I hadn't thought of it being a romantic gesture. You are injured, true, but there is something in this moment that is worth preserving, I thought.

You're wanting to preserve a moment wherein we both have expressed our feelings for one another... I fail to see how that wouldn't be considered romantic.

[Romance, like art, is often subjective, but she's fairly confident that almost anyone would agree with her assessment in this case.]

It was a significant moment.

[To be honest, he's a little surprised at how well this suggestion has been received, but... it's encouraging. It means he's not making a mess of things.]

Does that mean you would not object?

[She sits up again and, facing him, rests her hands on his shoulders.]

I don't object in the slightest - black eye and all.

[She kisses him for emphasis, then again, just in case he's not totally sure.]

Good. I am glad.

[He kisses her in return, gentle and glad.]

I believe I'm beginning to understand the process well enough to attempt such a portrait.

[She too, is glad: glad that she's made him happy and that he doesn't seem so worried about her.]

May I see some of your other work now?

If you wish, certainly.

[He detangles himself, carefully, and rises to cross the room to where he's tucked his work away. When he was able, he found himself a few thick sketchbooks and a good supply of pencils, because who knows when he might be able to get more, and he's been working through the first book patiently. He brings the book over to Beverly and sits down again.]

My first attempts were... inexact. I studied some books on the last station we visited for techniques.

[The first few dozen pages are still lifes of apparently random things: chairs, dishes, the package of pencils. They start out looking flat, because "introducing depth into a drawing" was something he hadn't figured out yet, but what he lacks in skill he makes up for in extreme patience: they are very detailed.]

[Beverly crosses her legs and lays the sketchbook in her lap, studying each drawing with great diligence. What they lack in depth, they have in precision. While still clearly the drawings of a beginner, they're certainly better than her own map making skills.]

I see you're already making progress! And these pencils-

[She holds up the paper closer to her face.]

You've caught the patterns in the wood and everything.

They were there. I thought they should be replicated. I felt that was the point.

[If she keeps turning pages, Beverly will start finding the still lifes interspersed with portraits. Some are people in the fleet, particularly the crew of the Wonderduck, and Beverly herself. Some she might recognise from the calibrations: Elijah Baley, Dr. Fastolfe, Giskard. These too are detailed, but with errors in perspective that comes of Daneel not quite sure how to translate that into pencil.]

[The portraits draw her attention more than the still lifes. Features may be out of proportion or too flat, yet everyone is immediately recognizable. A small smile crosses her lips as she looks at one of Jennifer and her fingers lightly caress the outline of Baley's face, but, perhaps naturally enough, the portrait she lingers on is her own. She is briefly reminded of another man who drew her, who kept her as his prisoner. Though Daneel may not be as skilled as he, this drawing brings her much more joy.]

When did you draw this?

Two weeks ago. I hope to improve upon my technique with later attempts.

[He knows what's wrong. He just doesn't know how to fix it yet.]

You are welcome to have it, if you wish.