The Lesson

[STSF Shadow 0]

The Lesson

~A Shadow Log~

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GySgt Mike Hefner configured Agincourt's holodeck for a special presentation, one he hoped would illustrate a human peculiarity to his newfound friend. Soft music drifted from a jazz trio in the corner. Fresh linen draped intimate round cocktail tables which dotted the area between the backlit bar and dance floor. Here and there couples murmured, huddled in various stages of interaction while a cranberry-glass candelabra flickered candlelight from the ceiling. "We call it romance," said Mike in his Aussie drawl as he slipped into a seat next to Shadow at the bar and ordered a Glenfiddich, neat.

 

Dressed specially for this occasion in what Gunny called civvies, Shadow studied the room. "Romance," he repeated as though trying to absorb all its connotations and innuendoes. "And this romance leads to procreation?"

 

"Ummm...sometimes. It depends."

 

"Depends?"

 

Mike nodded. "Depends."

 

"On what?"

 

The lesson didn't appear to be as straightforward as Mike had hoped. He took a deep breath. "Think of romance as getting to know someone really, really, really well. Then you decide if you want to . . . procreate." He winked.

 

Shadow's face lit up. "Getting to know someone really well, as I came to know Dr. Levy, Kairi, Colonel Harper . . . ."

 

Mike paused mid-sip so he wouldn't choke and held up his hand. "No, no, no, Shadow. Getting to know them is what we call friendship." He waved his glass towards Shadow. "That's like me getting to know you. That's friendship. But," Glass in hand, Mike pointed a free finger at a particularly curvaceous young lady across the room, "getting to know her - now, that's romance." A grin and a long pull on his scotch settled him back in position, one arm on the bar, the other draped over the back of the barstool.

 

A glance at the girl, then around the room, then back at Mike indicated Shadow's confusion before he ventured, "There is something different about that female, something that is attractive to you. Why are you not attracted to the other females? Why do you choose this one?"

 

Gunny paused thoughtfully watching her glide across the room. A red gown fell softly to her ankles, hugging the curvature of her figure and tugging intriguingly here and there. A gold clasp gathered auburn ringlets gently at the nape of her neck, then allowed them to cascade freely over her shoulders and down her back. She spoke as she moved, her gentle laugh mixing with the music to create . . . .

 

Mike sighed, bringing himself back to reality. The girl was, after all, an invention of the holodeck program. "She's . . . different. Soft. Gentle. Curvaceous."

 

"Curvaceous," Shadow repeated diligently. "Not angular."

 

"Yep. Curvaceous. Not angular."

 

"And this non-angular presentation leads to procreation."

 

Mike eyed Shadow a minute, then downed the last few drops of malt and called for another. This was going to be a long, long lesson. And probably a long night.