Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by Paramount Viacom. No copyright
infringement is intended by writing this.
Her heart was racing, was being so fast. She sat down in the darkened
space, her insides tempestuous...the pain refusing to leave. The black
enamel and the snow white ivories were her greatest secret...the one
thing she could not master...the one thing her soul craved.
The music haunted her...like a ghost that stood silently on the edge
of her periphery. It stood silently beckoning to her, promising her
release that she knew she could not get. Occasionally she would play
the audio tract, but it only increased the craving to pound out the
impassioned chords. She could not compare, her skill was too low to
make the instrument sing.
So there she sat, her soul crying for the music it could not make. She
mumbled something under her breath, and instantaneously sound filled
the air. The too perfect chords begged for the disharmonies that the
fire in her being could only bring forth. Anger for the lack of skill
brought down her hands on the still silent keys, and yet the too
perfect passionate chords continued to go on uninterrupted.
In the darkened room, a hand caressed her neck. She jumped. She had
hear no one approach. There was a soft brush of the lips, but the
ebony darkness refused to manifest the man. Only the silent ivories
could be seen as her hands beat upon them.
His hands reached around her, gingerly touching the skin of her bare
arms as they traveled down to her fingertips. Goose-bumps protruded
from her arms, and fire shot down threw her. His chest pressed her
forward, and he slipped to sit behind her. The bench was wide and low.
He turned the palms of her hands up, and delicately touched them with
his fingertips. Unable to control themselves they curled from the
unbridled ache his touch caused. His lips again met her neck, his
tongue lazily trailed over the sensitive flesh. The shock to her
system caused all the muscles in her body to contract for a split
second. His hands slipped under hers, her fingers perfectly aligned
over the top of them.
Then the music being played stopped and too perfectly he began. He
guided her fingertips, allowing her to communicate the passion
screaming from her soul into the music. Their hands -intertwined-
danced rhythmically over the keyboard. So their fingers danced, the
pain and ache transported out of her into a flaming blaze of musical
He pushed her farther and farther as their bodies moved together in
harmony. The feelings blazed like a wildfire threatening to consume
her. The flames consumed the erotic nature of their dance, only
leaving the pure sweetness of the pain.
Abruptly as the music started, it stopped. Dazed, forcing herself to
return to the physical realm, she sat unnoticing. As soon has her
brain could comprehend the power of what had just occurred, she
realized that he wasn't sitting next to her any more.
"Computer lights." Kathryn Janeway turned on the bench, catching the
holodeck doors shutting softly. Their she sat, in shock of the power
of their joining, not knowing who had given her the key to let her
The EMH sat at his desk, looking over the latest medical report that
Tom had given him. He began to drum his fingers on the desk, as if
playing the piano. When Tom coughed to get his attention, he replied.
"Oh sorry, my mind is else where."
"You really should get out more Doctor." Tom told him.
"In my own way, I think I do." The EMH smiled.