"Computer, play Andy Warhol by David Bowie," Noah said as he and Amelia ran into the family quarters. "Mum and Dad listen to it all the time."
The computer chirped, and the intro started to play. Amelia scrunched her face as she considered.
"Oh, I remember it now." She flopped onto the couch. "His art's weird. I could make art like his."
"Okay, so do it." Noah sat on the edge of the coffee table facing her, arms crossed. Amelia sat up, chewing her lip as she looked around the room.
"But what should I do?"
"Doesn't need to be like Warhol. Just make some sort of art. Bet you can't."
"Could too!" Amelia looked up. "Computer, when are Mom and Dad off duty?"
The computer chirped. "Both are off duty in fifty-nine minutes."
"Plenty of time." Amelia stood up and started to stalk around the room, her arms crossed. Noah followed her, mirroring her expression and her movements. They both came to a stop looking at the large painting that hung above the couch. "Let's replace this with my art."
"Mum's very protective of that painting. It's Uncle Blue and that Travis guy that she always changes the topic when someone asks about. We shouldn't touch it."
"It'll be fine. We'll just put it in Mom and Dad's room, safely out of the way. Come on art nerd, help me do it right so I don't damage it." Amelia climbed up onto the couch, and started to reach for one side of the frame. Noah scrambled up after her, taking hold of the other side as she started to lift.
"Stop, we gotta be careful. Aunt Zia could probably fix it if anything happens, but Mum'll be mad."
Amelia huffed, but she stopped trying to pull at the frame. "Fine, fine."
"On the count of three, slowly lift up a couple inches. Once it's clear of the hooks holding it on the wall, then we can pull it away." Noah looked at Amelia with his eyebrows scrunched and she sighed, but nodded. "wa', cha', wej."
They lifted together and Noah leaned close to the wall to look behind the painting. "Okay, slowly. You step down from the couch first, since you're taller and have better reach, I'll follow."
With Noah coaching them the whole way, they got the painting into their parents' bedroom without incident, leaving it leaning against the foot of the bed. Noah stayed a minute to make sure it wasn't going to fall as Amelia ran back to the livingroom to stare at the now blank wall. She tilted her head this way and that, holding her hands up to make a frame with her fingers. Noah finally returned and watched her.
"Okay, I'm going to need some duct tape, do you know if Dad has any laying around, or should I hit up the replicator? I also need something to make a frame."
"What are you planning?"
"I'm going to hang you on the wall. Like the song."
Noah was quiet a long moment, staring at the empty wall. Then he shrugged. "Okay, I haven't been art before. You're going to need more duct tape than Dad has sitting around." He ran to the replicator. "His pattern comes in colors, it just defaults to his favorite."
"Oooo, we can make it neon green!" Amelia ran over and started poking at the controls on the replicator. "What should I use for the frame?"
"Make it out of the duct tape? Or draw it with something that's washable... so that when Mum and Dad make us clean it up later, it'll be easy."
"Computer, quick dry sonic soluble paint, primary colors. Three medium paintbrushes. Waterhouse Duct Tape pattern, neon green, dozen rolls." After a pause, before the replicator powered up, Amelia added, "Extra sticky."
"That'll be harder to clean up."
"Do you want to fall and stress test your klingon forehead?"
"No."
"Okay then." Amelia picked up the jars of paint and paintbrushes, then attempted to scoop the rolls of duct tape into her arms. A few rolls fell to the floor, and Noah stooped down to collect them as Amelia headed with her supplies over to the coffee table.
The duct tape clattered to the transparent aluminum top and rolled all over the place, a couple ending up on the floor as she set the paint jars down in the middle. She opened them all up and plopped a paintbrush into each one, staring at them as she picked up the fallen rolls of tape.
"Computer, more of the same paint but in a color to match the duct tape. One more medium paint brush." The replicator chirped and she skipped over to collect it as Noah set his rolls of duct tape on the table. "We'll paint the frame first, then I'll tape you up. Computer, please notify me ten minutes before my parents are scheduled off duty."
"Notification set for thirty-seven minutes and forty-two seconds from now."
"Do you want me to stand on the back of the couch so you can decide how big the frame should be... or are we going to wing it?" Noah stirred the blue paint as he watched his sister return from the replicator with her neon green paint. She dropped the lid on the coffee table as she plopped the brush into the jar.
"We can wing it in an informed guess way? You paint the top of the frame, and your reach will probably be tall enough for you to fit in? One color per side, a little off kilter to the left. Mama always cocks her head to the left, so left is a good direction for it." Amelia pushed the blue paint toward Noah, so he picked it up.
"Okay. Blue on top?" He picked up the jar and climbed up on the couch. "What shape frame?"
"Rectangle, tall, wavey edges like in the old cartoons Mama plays for us, the Looney Tunes." Amelia collected the green paint again, and followed Noah as he made a straight line of blue across the wall just shy of the edge of his reach, the left side tilted downward. Amelia stared at it a long moment.
"What? You said cocked to the left, which means left edge lower, right higher, and the bottom will swing toward the right."
"Yeah, okay, fine. Art nerd."
"You can do it yourself if you'd like." Noah put the paint brush back into the jar and held it out to her.
"I can't make a straight line without a ruler to save my life. I'll shut up. But why don't you do the inside of the next color, and I'll start on the wavy bits of the blue?" She smiled and held up the green paint as she grabbed the blue.
The two of them stood on the couch, painting the frame by stepping around each other as they worked. Blue for the top edge, green to the left, yellow to the right, and red at the bottom. Soon they stood staring up at their handiwork as they set the paint down on the table.
"You're going to want a title card too," Noah finally said. "Something with the piece title, your name as the artist, and maybe a blurb about your inspiration?"
"What should I call it?" She chewed her lip as she picked up a roll of duct tape. The distinctive ripping sound soon followed as she pulled a length of tape loose from the roll and held it up as she stared at the wall. "Something referencing Andy Warhol, as the inspiration?"
"My name too, as the subject of the piece?"
"Noah ala Warhol?"
"Love it. I have a template for the title card in the database, just fill it in and stick it under me once I'm taped up there."
The computer chirped. "It is 17:50."
"Shit shit shit, they'll be back soon. Up, up, up." Amelia pushed Noah towards the couch and he stumbled a couple steps before he dutifully climbed up until he was standing on the back of the couch. "Strike a pose, and I'll start taping. If there's time, I'll replicate the title thingie."
He pressed himself against the wall, flexing his arms in front and back of himself as he looked down at her. When she stepped up on the couch and stuck the first piece of tape across his chest, he stiffened his face into a a very serious look and made every effort to stand still. One, two, three, four, and soon five rolls of tape were stretched across his body and limbs in pieces of varying lengths, more crisscrossing where they stuck to the walls.
The door into their quarters hissed softly as it opened.
"Hi Dad," Noah said, followed by a goofy grin.
Amelia glanced over her shoulder. "How was your shift, Daddy?" She stepped down from the couch, setting the half finished roll of duct tape down with the paint and remaining rolls.
"Long. We've been recalibrating the EPS grid all week and I swear, I am going to be dreaming of those systems for the next month." Corey shrugged out of his duty jacket and sat down in the arm chair next to the couch. He glanced up at the wall and was quiet for a long moment. "Where's the painting?"
"Your bedroom," Noah answered, trying to point at it despite the duct tape across his wrist.
Corey took a deep breath. "Why is it in the bedroom?"
"We didn't want to damage it."
Corey rubbed his face, shifted like he was going to stand, then changed his mind. He looked at Amelia. "And why have you taped your brother to the wall?"
"Art." Amelia made a flourishing gesture with her arm, and Noah grinned again. "I call it Noah ala Warhol."
"Cattelan did the duct taped banana, not Warhol." Corey finally stood up, his eyes moving across the collection of paint and duct tape on the coffee table before he crossed to the bedroom. He stood in the doorway a long moment staring at the painting that was carefully leaned against the foot of the bed.
Amelia looked up at Noah. "Who's Cattelan?"
"He duct taped a banana to a wall and called it art."
"He called it Comedian." Corey looked up at his son as he returned, and rubbed his face again. "And why are you turning our quarters into an art installation?" His hand dipped into his pocket and pulled out his multitool as the door whooshed open again.
Diziara stopped dead in the doorway. "Where–"
"Bedroom, it's fine. I just checked." Corey stepped around the coffee table, opening the multi-tool. "Seems Pond's given up on becoming a super hero and is now going to be an artist."
"I'm not giving up nothing, Noah dared me!"
"I didn't! You just said you could make art like Warhol, and I said I didn't believe you."
Corey stepped up onto the couch.
"Wait... before you cut him down." Diziara moved to the desk and pulled out the holo-camera. "It's oddly fitting they moved the painting for this, considering that one was the result of horseplay in Zia's studio."
Corey stepped down from the couch and joined Diziara in the middle of the room as she lined up the shot.
"Amelia, stand next to your art." Diziara gestured, and Amelia obligingly stood in front of the couch. "And both of you smile." When they both did as they were told, Diziara snapped the picture. She reviewed it a moment, then set the camera down on the desk.
"Okay, now, punishment." Diziara crossed her arms and looked at them both with a frown. "Grounded for a week — no holodeck, no hanging out with friends, you know the drill. And take down the art installation."
"But Mama!"
"Mum!"
"You know the one unbreakable rule — you get caught, you pay the piper," Corey said.
Amelia pouted, and started to collect the paint jars from the coffee table. "But it's art, it's supposed to be seen." She stomped over to the replicator.
"Then ask permission first." Diziara shook her head, then headed to the bedroom. "I need out of this damn uniform."
"Banksy didn't ask permission," Noah grumbled.
Corey settled in the arm chair again. "Banksy also never got caught."
"That's debatable. In the limited interviews he gave, he mentioned having served time in jail–" Noah fell silent when Corey looked up at him with a single raised eyebrow.
"Should I add an essay on the history of Banksy and other graffiti artists to your punishment?"
Noah hung his head. "Sorry Dad."
"What's the story behind the painting?" Amelia asked as she started to collect the duct tape and the cores from the spent rolls. "Do I have to recycle the unused duct tape?"
"You can keep the partial roll. Just no more art installations unless you check with me or your mother first." Corey settled back in the chair again, and looked toward the bedroom. "It's your mother's story to tell."
"But Mama never wants to talk about Travis. Any time his name comes up, she changes the subject. Even when Uncle Blue tries to keep her from doing so." Amelia folded the tip of the partial roll and left it on the coffee table before heading to the replicator again.
"It's her choice."
Diziara returned from the bedroom in a loose tank top layered over a sports bra and exercise leggings. She took a deep breath as she watched Amelia recycle the rolls of duct tape.
"Cut your brother down from the wall, and I'll tell you about the painting." Diziara settled on the end of the couch with her legs tucked up under herself as Corey handed his multitool to Amelia. She quickly jumped up on the couch and started cutting the duct tape.
Corey offered his hand to Diziara and she clasped it as they waited. Soon Amelia flopped on the couch as Noah sat down on the coffee table, duct tape still crisscrossing his clothes and skin. Diziara looked her son over briefly, then shook her head.
"I know you two know a little about Travis, Blue talks about him sometimes."
They both nodded.
"You were going to get married, before Starfleet, but he died," Noah said.
Diziara nodded. "One year, for your grandmother's birthday, Zia offered to paint a portrait of me and your uncles as a gift for her."
"SoSnI' has it up in the main hall of the family compound on Qo'noS, right?" Amelia asked.
"Yes. The scene in the painting happened behind Zia's back while the three of us were sitting for the portrait. It started with–" Diziara paused and looked at Corey. He chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. "We were all teasing Blue for something that had happened the night before, and that turned to Kaith suggesting Travis should paint himself blue and find something that looked like antennae. Blue started nosing through Zia's paints after that, discreetly checking the colors against his skin.
"When Travis noticed what he was up to, he likewise started looking for a paint that matched his own skin. It was all me and my brothers could do it not give them away with laughter as they both selected their color of choice and collected paint brushes nearly simultaneously."
"Oh no," Amelia gasped.
"You've seen me and Blue spar, you know how capable he is. Travis on the other hand..." Diziara shook her head. "Yet, somehow, Travis was the one who landed the first splatter of paint — right down Blue's nose. They quickly managed to cover most of each other's exposed skin with paint while we kept a straight face, leaving Zia none the wiser, but then Travis crossed the line." Diziara held her hands up next to her upper forehead, only her pointer fingers extended, and she wiggled them a bit.
Noah gasped. "He didn't!"
"This was when Kaith, Kang, and I all lost it. Zia turned around, and it felt like it does in those old movies, where time slows down as you watch the horror unfold. She practically had steam coming out of her ears as she stared at them a long minute and they both stared back at her. Then she turns to me and says–"
"Diziara! Get your harem to behave or get them out of here!" Corey jumped in, and Diziara reached over to smack him on the shoulder. He beamed at her.
"They looked at each other, silently repeating the word harem as Blue's antennae quirked, and Travis tried his best to mirror the expression with his fingers. Eventually Zia laughed, and I had the foresight to snap a picture with a holocam she had laying around. She made a passing remark about maybe painting it after the two of them hammed it up for the photo like you see in the painting, but they did end up banished from the studio for the remainder of the project.
"Her original intention was to gift the painting to me and Travis at our wedding, but the finished piece ended up in storage until I took your father to Qo'noS to introduce him to the family."
Noah turned to look toward the bedroom. "Did Aunt Zia title it?"
"I'll bet you could guess from the story." Diziara stood up. "I need to get some energy out, I was stuck at the conn all fucking day. I'll make an exception to the no holodeck part of your grounding if you two want to come with me for a beach run?"
Noah stood up quickly. "I'll grab my sketch book."
"To run, not art. And you'll clean this up when we're back." Diziara gestured up at the wall.
"If Noah doesn't come, can we spar instead?" Amelia asked as she headed for her bedroom.
"Maybe also, but not instead," Diziara called after her.
Noah huffed, blowing his hair off his forehead before he headed to his room.
Corey caught Diziara's hand in his and tugged her toward him. She perched on the arm of the chair as he kissed her knuckles.
"Are you coming with us?"
"I'm exhausted from my shift, I'll just sit and contemplate Noah ala Warhol, minus Noah." He winked at her and she laughed.
"I am half tempted to leave it up under the painting instead of making them clean it, but they do need to learn their lesson."
"I would say that we could just let them do it again when we're reassigned, but rumor has it that Kovalchuk might be finally getting a new flagship for our task force so they might be retiring Audie Murphy. The Commodore's being annoyingly tight lipped when I try to draw anything out of him to confirm." Corey glanced towards Amelia and Noah's bedrooms, then lowered his voice. "If that turns out to be the case, maybe we can help them pull a Banksy in the mess or something, once we confirm the decommission date?"
Diziara chuckled and leaned close to Corey to whisper, "You're the worst, I love you." She kissed him then sat up again.