[BACKSIM] JP - LtC Deveau + LtC Foster - Dancing The Night Away Part 1
Jamie LeBlanc
((Infinite Starlight, Starbase 118 Ops))
Of all the places on Ops, Infinite Starlight probably saw more of the First officer than any other. She was there often, indulging in one of the loves that she could actually do - dancing Acting was more difficult, though a good holodrama might help scratch that itch. Singing was confined to that sort of environment as well or, on occasion, with others - though she hadn’t really done that since before the accident. But dancing, there were plenty of places to do that. Others offered a wide variety of styles, but Infinite Starlight was by far her favourite, mainly because its focus was on ballroom dancing from Earth. There were nights they dedicated to other styles, rotating through a vast array, but mostly it was on Earth-based movements.
Stepping into the establishment, her eyes skimmed around the area for a certain doctor who was not only visiting Ops because of his son, but to help her with the medical issue she suffered from. Of course, she had invited him to dance - and he accepted. The place was large, accommodating a sizable dance floor which sat squarely in the middle. Curtained barriers with alternating entrances encircled the floor and separated it from tables bedecked with black table cloths along with a lamp to illuminate the area and a small vase with a flower in it. Tonight’s hue was purple. Since she didn’t see him, Alora chose one of those tables and settled down into it, but she didn’t have to wait for long. He entered and she stood, lifted a hand and waved.
When approached, she smiled, her face lighting up even in the gentle dimness of the establishment. Cast in the shadows, only a bit of light from the lamp revealed that the dark dress she wore was truly navy blue rather than black. A solid, sateen and strapless under dress with a sweetheart neckline was overlaid with a halter-top, v-neck lace dress, swirling patterns of leaves and flowers in the same shade of blue. Heels of the exact same shade adorned her feet. The asymmetrical lace skirt fell to her knees, just beyond the hemline of the more solid beneath and swayed breezily with every motion. Simple silver laced earrings adorned her ears and matching necklace graced her neck. She was more than ready to get on the dance floor, but she was also cognizant that she wasn’t the only one to consider for the evening.
DeVeau: Cade! Glad you made it.
The older man smiled casually, an attractive, self confident expression. As promised, he had dressed to the nines, in a silver-grey on steel black tuxedo with only the tiniest hints of white accents on the cuffs, collar and bowtie. His hair was slicked back and his facial hair was tidy. He looked like he had just stepped out of an old time movie.
Foster: Wouldn’t have missed it.
DeVeau: You said that before, and I’m glad to oblige.
Foster: Excellent! Then we are fully on the same page. ::He grinned.::
She lifted a hand and motioned all around her, first to the dance floor, then to the tables where people had already congregated. Some sat and talked, some sat and ate, others had staked their claims, then headed to the floor.
DeVeau: They sell food and drink, so we won’t starve, and then we can work off the meal with dancing. Or we could start with dancing, stop to eat, then go back to dancing.
It always came back to dancing.
Foster: You know, I’m OK with that…
He offered her a gloved hand, and guided her in a graceful spin onto the dance floor.
DeVeau: You do realise you aren’t going home any time soon, right?
Foster: Good thing I’m light on my feet. ::he winked.::
A sweeping ballroom dance. He was practiced. Certainly Cade Foster was old enough that he wasn’t going to win any athletic competitions, but he could make Alora feel like she was floating on clouds around him. And she loved her. While dancing with whomever needed a partner was certainly preferable to being a wallflower, it was always fun to engage with someone at least a little familiar. Cade Foster wasn’t quite so in comparison to others, but this also offered the opportunity to get to know him better.
DeVeau: I had no idea you danced so well.
Foster: I made myself learn a lot of strange things in my youth. I figured they would win me friends. ::He smiled gently at the memories.::
Ah, learn to dance and make friends. Alora had never heard of that as a reason before, but she certainly wasn’t going to complain about that. The man continued to whisker her across the floor, keeping up quite well with those younger than he.
DeVeau: Well, dancing isn’t required, but I’m personally glad you took the time to learn it.
How much had he learned? How many of the different styles that were encapsulated in that broad term of ‘ballroom’ dancing? Did he do swing? Latin? Infinite Starlight played all of them and switched to something completely different at the end of every song. Dance long enough, and he’d be put through all the paces.
Foster: What is your favourite style of music?
Alora had planned on asking some questions, but the man beat her to it. Not that she minded, conversation was much like dancing, but simply with words. Unfortunately, that question was not so easily answered.
Deveau: That’s almost like asking me my favourite star in the heavens.
He perked a brow, curious as to her passion.
Foster: That good, huh? Can’t even narrow it down to a genre?
He figured a favorite song would be hard, but a genre? Most people had some sort of leanings in style.
Then again Alora DeVeau wasn’t most people.
Alora clicked her tongue and followed through a turn, when the music came to an end. It was quickly followed by more, but of a slightly peppier beat, a trumpet joined by a tambourine, some sort of deep bells and a shaker.
DeVeau: I like all kinds, but I do have a particular fondness for Musical theatre, so music in that vein, the sort that tells a story. Now, of course, you must answer your own question.
He grinned a bit at that. Fair turnaround. Fortunately he already had his answer easily in mind.
Foster: I like the electronic symphonic with heavy bass and a driving backbeat circa 2325. You know, back in the golden age of Federation music.
The older man chuckled, making the age old hipster joke. He liked it before it was cool, of course.
DeVeau: I’m not sure if I should be shocked or not. So tell me, Cade Foster, what got you into the habit of trying to solve unsolvable medical mysteries. Not that I mind, I’m benefitting from it, but Wyn was rather sure if anyone could figure this out, you could.
He twirled her around and caught her in his arms.
Foster: Good question. ::He smiled a dashing smile.:: You see my parents were assholes who dumped me off on my grandparents, and I decided to take after my cool grandpa Charles who was a medical officer in Starfleet.
Alora had always considered herself fortunate when it came to her parents . She had a wonderful relationship with them. They had a wonderful relationship with each other. Over the course of her life, they had encouraged and cheered her on. Even though Grace had once had hopes of her daughter’s career taking on a more artistic track, she always showed pride in her daughter, whatever her choices. It sounded like Cade had lacked that.
DeVeau: Really?
He chuckled a bit, almost teasing. But there was an undercurrent of seriousness to his tone.
Foster: No, it’s true. My mother was OK. She was a career focused Starfleet officer. My father was a prize. Just an awful human being. The best thing I can say about him is that he never directly hurt my mother. Though he was also never there, so… ::he shrugged.:: I don’t miss him.
How different would her life have been had her own parents been of a similar vein? Alora honestly couldn’t imagine it. To not have the memories of her mother’s voice lulling her to sleep at night, her father’s arms gathering her close when she was hurt or sad. Even though she had not told her family all of the details of what had happened back on the research station, they had simply enfolded her in their care. And when she finally did reveal the truth about Kalin, they hadn’t quite understood her reticence to share, but they hadn’t resented it either. Every step of the way, they had been loving. And when she wanted it, involved. But to be denied that? How different would she herself be?
DeVeau: Any brothers or sisters?
Foster: Nope, no siblings. None at all.
Was that a good thing or a bad thing? On the one hand, it sounded like that meant only one child had experienced the bad. On the other, it meant Cade hadn’t had that supportive relationship - though he had mentioned more family members.
DeVeau: Hopefully your grandparents were better than that.
He had at the very least called his grandfather ‘cool’.
Foster: ::He shrugged:: My maternal grandmother was strict. She was fine. Her husband was an ass. But she wore the pants in the family. She was divorced from my maternal grandfather. She hated it when Grandfather Charles came around. But after I was eight I pretty much lived with him until Academy.
Charles Foster, an avante garde medical officer with a sharp tongue and a laundry list of failed relationships. But he was also full of humor, playfulness and love. Cade never quite understood why grandmother Margaret divorced Grandpa Charles. Her new husband, Aldo, was utterly humorless and cold. But he made her life comfortable and got out of her way.
Maybe she had regretted the decision? Maybe she felt it was better to have a business arrangement rather than a romantic partnership. Cade never figured it out.
DeVeau: Mind if I ask a personal and possibly prying question?
Foster: ::He shrugged, not able to think of a single thing she could ask that he hadn;t already been asked by someone or other.:: Sure.
Maybe it was too personal. Maybe he’d reject her. Or he could simply ignore it. Alora would ask it, but she wouldn’t push for an answer if he refused, but she was curious - and she was interested in getting to know the *real* Cade Foster.
DeVeau: Is this part of why you felt like you had to win friends by what you could do, not because of who you are?
He blinked. Well shit. That was one he had not been asked before, nor was he expecting.
Foster: Nobody liked weird Foster’s grandkid with the foul mouth? ::He offered with a charming smile.::
That was a charming deflection. It was somewhat true, but certainly the truth went far deeper.
The problem was, Alora was very familiar with deflection. Intimately so. She used it herself. Ashley used it. Raissa had used it. Chy. Aron. Everyone did to some extent. Cade wasn’t going to get away with it so easily. At least he had answered, so perhaps it was a door he was willing to open at least a crack.
DeVeau: Why not?
He sighed as the music came to a stop and he looked her in the eyes.
Foster: A family can build you up… or screw you up. And most of mine did the latter, not the former. And the one supportive family I had, the person who unconditionally loved me was considered the ‘black sheep’ - the bad guy, the imperfect, wrong, unlikeable one. I grew up feeling I, too, was the black sheep. That people would just judge me at face value, uncaring of what was really there. And, quite honestly, it’s hard to reverse generations of bad family training.
The band started up again, but for the moment, the desire to dance had been replaced with something else. With a quick, agile motion, Alora turned upon the ball of her foot twirled around, the hem of her skirt flowing with her movement. In that single motion, she was no longer in front of him, but beside him, her arm slipped through his. Despite the music and the low murmur of her voice, somehow her words were clear.
DeVeau: Would you please escort me to our table, Cade?
He offered her a formal flourish, one that complimented her beautiful move and then nodded.
Foster: Why certainly, my dear. ::Sometimes he could be the perfect gentleman. Sometimes.::
With quick steps, they made their way through the swirl of people who leaned into the next dance and dove into the dusky shadows of the peanut gallery. Alora accepted his gentlemanly offer to pull her seat out for her and settled into it. A waiter was immediately at their table just as Cade sat in his.
Waiter: May I take your drink order?
He considered that carefully. He liked many drinks. But alcohol and even synthehol had been off the menu for decades.
Foster: Cold brew coffee, half caf, mixed with altarian seltzer water.
Canting her head, Alora studied the older man even as she answered for herself.
DeVeau: Just water for me, thank you.
With a polite nod and a smile, the man assured them he’d be right back and then swept away, leaving Alora to turn her attention back to her companion.
DeVeau: It sounds like you’ve had a rough go of it.
***************
Lt Commander Cade Foster
Chief Medical Officer
USS Constitution-B
E239010ST0
&
Lt. Cmdr. Alora DeVeau
First Officer
Starbase 118 Ops
~Julian Beck
E239010ST0