Promises, Promises

by
Darrel W. Beach
Mar. 1999

Chapter 5

	Tom changed into his regular off-duty apparel and began rehearsing
his part for the holodeck.  He wondered what kind of challenge teaching
Seven to behave in a more subtle manner would be, and hoped he wasn't
getting in over his head.  Maybe it wouldn't be as difficult as he feared
as long as Seven had a stake involved in changing her behaviour.
	He left at 1850 to set up the holodeck program.  It had been a
while since he had last accessed it, but Sandrine's would be the perfect
backdrop for this particular adventure.  Seven arrived at precisely 1900,
as he expected.  She did, however, appear agitated.  "You look like you've
had a rough day, Seven."
	"I have indeed, Lieutenant," she replied, her voice less than
rock-steady.  "My hormone levels have been increasing steadily over the
last eighteen hours.  My regeneration period was even disrupted."  She
recalled with distaste the dreams that had intruded upon her rest.  All of
them had involved rather explicit acts of gratification.  Most involved
Ensign Kim, others involved the lieutenant, a few even featured the both of
them together at the same time.  Her conviction to proceed with his
holodeck creation wavered as she remembered one particular dream.  What
could she expect from this instruction?  She concentrated on detaching her
mind from her wayward biological impulses.  Now, more than ever, she needed
the precision control of her Borg upbringing.  These lessons possibly meant
the key to overcoming her current problem, and she intended to learn them
as efficiently as possible.
	"Well, I guess the sooner we start, the sooner you can pay a visit
to dear old Harry."  Tom opened the holodeck entrance.  "Your lesson in
romance awaits."
	Seven found herself walking along a harbour with the lieutenant.
Dusk was already growing, and a light fog slowly rolled into the docks off
the water.  The street lamps, ineffectual under their own power, added to
the haze rather than cut through it.  However, the reduced visibility
proved no problem for her optical implant.  "What is this place?"
	"What you see here is a replica of the Marseilles waterfront, one
of the most romantic spots in all of France.  I thought it might help you
to fit in with the atmosphere."  He stopped in front of a weather-beaten
door, pausing for dramatic effect as he grasped the rust-proofed brass
handle.  "And here's where you'll be getting your instruction."
	Seven's nose reflexively wrinkled at the acrid smell of tobacco
smoke and hard liquor as he swung open the door, but said nothing.  She
looked from one end of the establishment to the other, absorbing the
details from every thing present.  "I fail to see how I will learn anything
of value in this artificial environment."
	"Trust me, you couldn't be in a better place to find out how people
interact with each other," Tom replied distractedly, searching the room for
something.  He fixed upon a target and pulled Seven toward a table occupied
by a raven-haired human female.  "There's someone I'd like you to meet,
Seven.  Ricki?"
	The hologram turned at the sound of her name, her face blooming
with a huge smile in recognition of the speaker.  She left her chair and
enveloped Tom with an embrace.  "Tommy, I'm so glad to see you.  What have
you been up to?  It feels like you haven't been here in ages."
	Tom smiled and returned the hug.  "You say that every time I leave
the room, Ricki.  Here, I have someone I want you to meet.  This is Seven,"
he said with a gesture.  "Seven, this is Ricki.  She'll be assisting me
with your lessons."
	Ricki finally diverted her attention to size up her pupil.  Her
eyes narrowed suspiciously while Seven returned a blank look at the
hologram.  Ricki kept her gaze fixed as she asked,  "Are you pulling my
leg, Tom?  I can't believe she needs any help catching a man."
	"Don't let appearances fool you, Ricki.  Seven's a blank slate when
it comes to the social graces.  We've got to teach her all the rules in the
game of love."
	"Is that so?"  Ricki still wasn't convinced.  She sidled up to
Seven and pointed to a nondescript character sitting at the bar.  "Okay,
Seven, show me what you've got.  See that guy over there?  I want you to go
over there and get him to ask you out on a date."
	Seven literally went to work.  She strode over to the man at the
bar and spun him around on his stool.  "I require that you attend me in a
social convenience at some future date.  Do you accept?"
	The barfly didn't get past his startled expression.  "Whoa, whoa,
hold it!  Seven, what on earth are you doing?"
	Seven looked back at an astonished Ricki.  "I am attempting to
secure this male into a private social engagement as you instructed.  Was I
in error?"
	"If you're referring to the way you're doing it, yes!"  Ricki
looked at Tom with undisguised wonderment.  "Is she for real?"
	Tom, for his part, managed not to laugh.  "I told you, Seven
doesn't have much understanding of social interaction."
	The hologram shook her head and sighed, then resumed her focus on
Seven.  "All right, let's try this again from the beginning.  First of all,
honey, you have to start acting the right part.  You're not asking for a
bowl of soup in a cafeteria, you know."
	"I do not understand."
	"Everything you do is stiff and direct," Tom interjected.  "What
you have to do is to try acting more subtle.  Loosen up a little.  Act like
you could care less about getting his attention, even if it's the most
important thing in the world to you."
	"Right, and there's no better way to do that than using the right
walk," Ricki added.
	"I am uncertain of your suggestion.  How can my manner of gait be
incorrect?  It is the most efficient."
	"If you're travelling from point A to point B, it is.  However,
that's the totally wrong way to walk if you're trying to attract someone of
the opposite sex.  Here, let me show you what I'm talking about.  Watch
carefully.  You walk one foot in front of the other, almost like you're
walking a tightrope."  Seven studied intently as Ricki sashayed up to the
bar and ordered a glass of champagne, then sauntered her way into Tom's
arms as a half-dozen male patrons looked on.  "Nothing capture's a man's
attention better than a little sway of the hips."
	"Interesting how a simple alteration of mechanics can produce such
an effect, but I am puzzled by how such a manoeuvre can so successfully
attract the attention of a male.  Is there some sort of cultural
significance to this mannerism?"
	"I don't know, but it works.  Why don't you try it, Seven?"
	For the longest time Seven simply stared at Ricki and Tom,
considering the relevance (or lack thereof) of executing Ricki's walk.
However, her body accentuated the futility of Borg philosophy by releasing
another surge of hormones.  "Very well.  I will adapt."  In her first few
steps she teetered and wobbled as she tried to find her centre of gravity,
but she quickly mastered the new walk.  Tom could feel his upper lip sweat
as he watched Seven slink across the tavern floor.  She worked her body
language like a professional.  He found it mesmerising.  Apparently so did
the male holograms.  The room had grown much quieter as nearly every head
in the room tracked her progress back to the bar.
	"Wow!  Very impressive, Seven," Ricki remarked.  "I think we can
move on to step two.  Let's find a seat at the bar, shall we?"  Seven
followed the hologram to the end of the bar and sat down.  Again, Ricki
pointed to the barfly.  "Now, I want you to get that guy's attention, but
this time do it subtly, as though you're not trying to get his attention at
all."
	Seven furrowed her brow and scowled.  "How is that accomplished?"
	"It's a technique known as flirting.  Try to establish eye contact
with your target, send him a few non-verbal cues to tell him that you want
him to come over here."
	"I am not familiar with that technique.  If I might observe such an
exchange, it would prove useful."
	Ricki sighed.  "All right, stay put.  Watch and learn."  She
quietly moved to the next stool to allow Seven a better perspective.  Seven
expanded her focus to her entire field of vision and watched intently as
Ricki attempted to engage a man sitting across the room.  Tom drifted off
to the side, also content to watch the hologram of his former companion in
action.  He smiled fondly as he recognised the very same mannerisms that
had first attracted his attention.  "The first step is always to get the
guy to look at you, and nothing is simpler than just staring in his
direction.  People always know when they're being watched.  Don't ask me
why, they just do.  Then when you make eye contact, that's when you can
send him the signals."  At that the man finally turned around to catch
Ricki's gaze.
	"You are equipped with a subdermal transceiver?"
	"No, just keep watching."  As instructed, Seven observed while
Ricki uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, teased her hair, and ran her
finger over the surface of her glass.  A short moment later the man got up,
walked over to the bar and introduced himself to Ricki.
	"I think I am beginning to understand.  Communication is
established implicitly through the use of physical cues."
	"Exactly.  I'm sorry, honey, maybe some other time," she said to
the visitor.  The man looked genuinely depressed to have been brushed off,
but returned to his former content the moment he sat back down at his
table.  "Women use all sorts of subtle indicators to tell a guy that she's
interested."
	"Show them to me."
	Tom laughed.  "That's a pretty tall order, Seven, even for her.
Ricki, maybe we should teach her about pick-up lines instead.  Seven isn't
well suited to that kind of subtlety."
	"Maybe you're right, Tommy," she grudgingly accepted.
	"What are pick-up lines?" Seven asked.
	"Pick-up lines, or ice breakers, are another means of initiating a
conversation, only the communication is direct instead of implied," Tom
answered.  "You typically express your desire to become acquainted with the
person you want to get close to.  Men typically use this device more than
women."
	Seven's brow wrinkled.  "By your explanation I have already
employed this approach at the beginning of this lesson, yet I was told that
I was in error."
	"That was different, Seven.  The point of an ice breaker is to make
the other aware of your presence, to let them know that you have an
interest in them, but it also gives you an opportunity to learn about your
target.  You might decide later that you weren't as interested in the
person as you first thought.  If you talk to the person first, find out
what kind of interests you share, you can avoid a lot of misunderstandings
and hurt feelings later."
	"This sounds a lot like the 'small talk' the Doctor has been
instructing me on."
	Tom thought about her analogy, then shrugged.  "It's essentially
the same thing, I guess, only it primarily involves just two people."
	Not long ago Seven had completely disavowed the relevance in
engaging in the Doctor's pointless exercise in social behaviour.  Now with
her blood running at a fever pitch she conceded that maybe small talk had
its practical uses after all.
	"People usually tend to select an pick-up line that reflects their
personalities, but we'll start you off with something simple.  Let's try
'Is this seat taken?'.  It's short and plainly announces your intention."
	"Very well.  What now?"
	"Pick somebody in the room and try it out.  If you're lucky they'll
ask you to sit down and talk."
	It sounded simple enough to Seven, despite how pointless she viewed
the exercise of making small talk.  The Doctor had given her enough lessons
that she could at least handle herself, she thought.  Steeled to her task,
Seven selected a figure at random and approached him.  "Is this seat
taken?"
	Carlo's features melted into a charming smile the moment he set
eyes on his sudden visitor.  The gigolo's heavy French accent exuded as
much sex appeal as his exotic appearance.  "Fohr you, ma chere, anyszing.
Please, siht."
	Tom looked a little uncomfortable at Seven's choice.  Leave it to
her to start wading in the deep end of the pool.