missdiane: (Janeway is queen)
In observance of the Star Trek 50th anniversary, I "penned" a little silly blurb. It isn't the naughty thing that veganhothead assigned but I might get to that sometime. I'm just stoked that I was able to be creative and write something when I haven't in a looooooong time.

Star Trek: TNG, Lt. Commander Data, Lt. Barclay and Data's cat Spot

Felines - the Eternal Mystery.
 
“According to the computer, felines have the ability to perform more than one hundred varieties of vocalizations. I do not know if Spot is performing adequately as I have only observed thirty-three distinctive vocalizations. However, it appears that many of these sounds occur close to mealtimes. If you would like, I can create these sounds and explain what I believe each one of them may mean,” Data opened his mouth in order to begin the demonstration when Lt. Barclay waved his hand dismissively.

“N…no, Commander, that’s not necessary. I’m very familiar with cat noises,” Lt. Barclay smiled knowingly. “I’m sure you’ve observed some of the noises when you’re certain that Spot is already well fed.”

Data tilted his head slightly to the side, his distinctive way of displaying that he was processing the thought, “You are correct. It has been challenging to persuade Spot that it is not time to eat when Spot wishes to do so. I have calculated that it would not be healthy for Spot to exceed six point four kilograms and so you must not allow him to convince you that he has been inadequately nourished.”

Lt. Barclay chuckled, “I’ll stay strong.” He picked up the orange tabby and gave him a kissy-face look, “You’ll be a good boy while your father is on his away mission, won’t you?”

“I am not a feline, Lieutenant” Data’s brow furrowed slightly then he blinked in understanding, “Ah, I see. You have redefined my role as Spot’s guardian as being one of parent. Very well.” Data picked up his tricorder. “Thank you for your assistance, Lieutenant.” He turned to go.

Lt. Barclay picked up one of Spot’s paws and used it to wave goodbye to Data, “My pleasure, Commander,” Once the doors slid shut behind Data’s departing figure, Lt. Barclay turned Spot to face him, “Oh, what say I replicate a few treats?” Spot mewed approvingly. He smiled again as he set Spot down and headed to the replicator, “Don’t tell your father or he’ll not let me cat-sit again. I’ll also replicate a feather toy so we can play off the extra weight.”

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