[Felix Culpa AU: I, Robot]

[stilljustandrew]

It's Happy Hour, and there's a new guy behind the bar who gives his name as Jake; the Specials board reads HALF OFF FOR ANY ORDER INVOLVING A PUN.

This has led to a discussion of puns in particular and humor in general, between two regular patrons seated at the bar.

"-- but the 'hickory daiquiri' pun relies both on phoenetic similarity and awareness of an element of popular culture," Andrew explains earnestly, and takes a sip of his kahlua-spiked milkshake.

Comments

[au_npcs]

Data tilts his head to the side by metric increments; precisely 21.5 millimeters to the left. His pale yellow eyes blink as he calculates - or rather, attempts to compute - the ever elusive concept known as fun.

A slight frown appears between his pale eyebrows, and he exhales a sigh. "I am sorry, Andrew."

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew shakes his head. "No need to be. You'll get it someday. You already understand more about humor than you used to, right?"

[au_npcs]

Data nods, and approximates a smile. "That is correct. I do have a better understanding of semantic and phonetic attempts at levity than I did beforehand."

[stilljustandrew]

"See? You're learning." Andrew beams.

And brightens even further, glancing past Data, as a heart-familiar figure steps through the front door.

[au_npcs]

Data takes note of the change of demeanor, and shifts in his seat to see what is the cause of it. Or who, as the case may be.

[mr_gaeta]

'Who,' in this case, turns out to be a man with curly black hair and a prosthetic leg, maneuvering through the crowd with a stable, if not entirely smooth gait. He's likewise brightening at the sight of Andrew, and lifting his hand in a wave as he gets closer.

"Hey," he greets him.

[stilljustandrew]

"Hey, love." Andrew tips his head at the empty chair next to him, in invitation.

"Oh -- Felix, this is Data, he's a friend."

[au_npcs]

The corners of Data's lips - pale, almost perfectly symmetrical - turn up in the hint of a smile. His eyes are attentive as he stands up, holding out his hand.

It is how humans greet each other, after all. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Felix."

[mr_gaeta]

The odd, off-putting itch of something not being quite right with Data registers, but doesn't alarm. It's Milliways; it wouldn't be the first odd or off-putting person he's seen.

He returns the smile and clasps Data's hand in a firm shake. "Likewise, sir." To both of them, "How long have you two known each other?"

[stilljustandrew]

"Um ... a little over half a year now, I think?"

He looks to Data, as though for confirmation -- or for a more precise reckoning.

[au_npcs]

Data inclines his head, taking his seat (and not for one moment is his posture anything but perfect). "Seven months, twenty-two days, three hours, twenty-one minutes, fifty-two seconds and counting," he informs Andrew and his friend both, with an addendum. "I am not certain how this correlates with time in Milliways."

[mr_gaeta]

Gaeta's eyebrows rise.

Rather a lot, in fact.

"That's...very exact," he says with a small laugh, sinking into the seat Andrew offered before. At the moment, it's about all he can come up with.

[stilljustandrew]

"He does that," Andrew says comfortably, and takes another drink of his milkshake.

[au_npcs]

"My brain perceives the world exactly as it is," Data says for the purpose of elaboration.

[mr_gaeta]

"How do you mean?"

Curious.

[au_npcs]

Data blinks. "Being an android, defined by Webster's 24th century dictionary, fifth edition, as 'an automaton made to resemble a human being', I am incapable of emotion."

[mr_gaeta]

Well, he thinks. That would explain it.

"You're an android."

[stilljustandrew]

At the sound of his voice Andrew turns in his seat to look at Felix, the smile sliding off his face and leaving it blank.

[au_npcs]

"Yes." A beat, and there's a modulation to his voice that somehow speaks of momentary uncertainty. The change in mood has not escaped him; the reason for it remains unclear. And then...

"Would you like to know my specifications?"

[mr_gaeta]

"No, thank you."

It's quite calm. It's the sort of calm Andrew's heard before: when Gaeta's dealing with a superior officer; when he's trying to maintain his equilibrium after being thrown off-balance; when what matters more than personal like or dislike is professionalism and keeping the peace.

"That won't be necessary, sir."

[stilljustandrew]

Calm as a frozen pool.

Andrew's glance at him is sharper, now, and more troubled; and it flicks back to Data almost immediately.

"I was," he starts, trying to get the injured conversation back up on its feet, "we were just having a discussion about the nature of humor. 'Cause, the Specials board."

[au_npcs]

Data turns his head from Felix to Andrew in a slightly too smooth motion, yet another tell that his skin isn't skin, and beneath it lie no such things as bone or muscle.

Andrew is clearly uncomfortable, and his friend is very obviously distancing himself from Data. He is intrigued (as much as an android can be intrigued), and wishes to understand why. He returns his eyes to Felix, changing his mode of address to a more suitable one. "May I pose a question, sir?"

[mr_gaeta]

Data's a friend of Andrew's; for now, Gaeta can leave behind the sting of having never known about that (an android, how is that any different from) and focus on the need to be civil.

That means, to some extent, ignoring the look Andrew's giving him.

"Yes."

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew's stomach is sinking into his shoes.

This was a bad idea.

[au_npcs]

"I am detecting signs of distress on your part, which is currently transferring onto Andrew," he states, as precursor to his query.

"You were showing none before Andrew indicated he wanted a precise summary of how long we have been acquainted. Do you find our friendship offensive?"