This post is part of Linda G.Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday meme -an unedited stream of consciousness piece that ties into the weekly prompt: the word ‘finger’.Use it any way you think to. Have fun!
As some of you might have noticed, I vanished from Just Jot It January in the last week of the month. I didn’t really intend to, but I had a short story I wanted to submit to a national contest, and it pretty much took up all the time and energy I could give it.
I’ll be filling in those posts over the next week or two, beginning with January 25’s “Prestidigation” – which, as it happens, goes very well with “prestidigitation”. The prompt comes from Pamela at Butterfly Sand.
One more bit: Standard Disclaimer applies. I make no claims to own these characters. I certainly expect no monetary profit from playing with them. But, when a certain pointy-eared lady insists I tell her stories, I listen. After all, I’ve seen her fight. =)
Definitions and Interpretations
“All right, now. Time for a bit of prestidigitation.”
There were times when T’Pol was nearly certain that Commander Tucker chose his words specifically to arouse her curiosity. As a result of this suspicion, she had begun a concentrated study of the dictionary database, with word selections chosen through the use of an ever-evolving algorithm.
“I was under the impression that you are a qualified engineer, Commander, and not a magician.”
There was little logical defense for the amount of time and energy she expended in devising and updating the algorithm, or, for that matter, in the study of obscure human words she was unlikely to need an understanding of in any professional capacity. However, the sudden shifting of her companion’s mobile features, and the intensity of his blue eyes as he stared at her had a value that was difficult to quantify in logical terms. “Now how the hell do you know what ‘prestidigitation’ means?”
T’Pol said nothing. Perhaps there was a certain dishonesty in withholding the truth. Certainly, it was illogical to enjoy the way he watched her. It was much the way he’d looked at her at their first meeting, when the discordant music had swelled and soared between them –
“Hey, you all right?”
“I’m fine, Commander, although somewhat concerned that you plan to resort to the use of magic in the sensor array adjustments.”
She was rewarded with his rich laughter. “Not actual magic, T’Pol. What I mean is, this is a tricky process, and it’s going to require all of both of our skills to coordinate, if we’re going to get these calibrations of yours just right. It’s a finicky little operation, and I hope your fingers are nimble.”
“I’ve rated proficient in manual dexterity since childhood, Commander Tucker.”
That earned a snort. “Someday, I want to visit a Vulcan school. No, on second thought, I don’t. Must be a hell of a dehumanizing experience, based on the things you say.”
“’Dehumanizing’? Commander Tucker, no Vulcan child is human. Therefore, there is as little need to dehumanize them as there is to deVulcanize the children in Terran schools.” She enjoyed the groan he made, although she carefully allowed no sign of it to touch her expression.
“Touche.” He recovered quickly. “I guess I still have some things to learn about challenging my preconceptions. But right now, I need you to put your pretty little non-human finger right here, and don’t let this cable wiggle – unless, of course, you’d enjoy a charred Chief Engineer.”
T’Pol placed her finger where he indicated, and applied pressure as he prepared to activate the circuit. “The cable is secure, Commander.”
He looked over at her. “You’re sure?”
“Indeed,” T’Pol answered. “I don’t find the scent of cooking flesh in the least appealing.”
Commander Tucker looked at her as though utterly uncertain how to interpret that statement.
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