Disclaimer: You know the drill. CBS/Paramount owns the canon stuff; the rest is mine. No money is being made. Reviews are better than watching the stars from the back of a red pickup truck.
Continuity: This story takes place post-"Descent," but I'm being kind of vague about exactly when (no Stardate) because I haven't written the main-CRUSHverse part of the story. See Notes for more.
Amazing
January, 2370
Rural Centaurus
"I had a feeling I'd find you here."
Geordi turned in the direction of the female voice that had spoken. "Zoe." Her name became a one-word sentence, an acknowledgement of her presence. "How is he?"
"From a technical standpoint," she answered drily, "I think you'd know that better than I do." He could hear her swallow reflexively before she continued in a more serious tone. "From a personal one… he's… being careful. Of me, I mean. But he hasn't apologized to me yet today, so, hey, there's that."
Geordi's chuckle was rueful. "He blames himself for all of it."
"Was it his fault?"
The engineer closed his eyes behind his VISOR. His best friend's girlfriend had asked him the question he himself had been chewing on since Data had killed that Borg on Ohniaka III. Opening them again he said, "I don't think either of us can answer that for him."
The young woman beside him was silent for a long moment, and then she turned to face the direction he'd been focused on when she'd joined him. "Beautiful, isn't she?"
"I hadn't expected her to have such nice curves," he answered. In truth he'd been staring, his lips stretched into a broad grin, from the time he'd entered the big barn to the moment Zoe had found him. "She's… amazing."
Zoe's warm laughter washed over him. "I had a feeling you'd think so."
"She's just so…" he groped for words. "…classy."
"Classy?" Was the woman actually pouting at him? He stole a glance at her. Yes. Yes, she was. "Just classy?"
"Actually, she's kind of… sexy."
He sensed rather than saw Zoe's nod, followed by the jingling sound of metal objects. Metal objects she was dangling in front of his face. "Do you want to take her for a spin?"
"You'd let me? Drive her?" But he took the keys.
Again, Zoe laughed at him. "Bertha's survived four hundred and three years, and God knows how many engine refits, tire replacements and paint jobs. I think she'll survive being handled by the guy who keeps the Enterprise humming. Besides, I want ice cream."
"Ice cream?"
"Milk, cream, eggs, sugar, flavoring… all frozen into creamy-delicious goodness?"
Geordi laughed. "I know what ice cream is."
"Good, because we're getting it from the Angstrom dairy farm. It's not far, about eight kilometers down the road." Zoe left him and crossed the barn floor, opening the passenger-side door of the red pickup truck known as Bertha. "I told Data we'd be back in an hour. You coming or not?"
Geordi looked at the truck and then out through the open barn doors and back to the house – the silent house – and shrugged. Then he joined Zoe, sliding into the driver's side of the ancient Ford, but he didn't start her up right away.
No.
He had to just sit in the seat for a while before he was ready. Starship command chairs were ergonomic and adapted to the size and mass of whomever was using them, but the bench seat inside Bertha was just a broad expanse of black leather.
Actual leather.
And her control panel – no, the proper term was dashboard - was an array of dials and gauges. No digital displays. No voice response system. Even the speed gauge – speedometer - was ticked out in miles rather than kilometers. There were switches – actual switches – as well, for the windshield wiper, the lights, a few other things.
His best friend's girlfriend caught him staring. "The smaller inner dial is measured in kilometers," she said helpfully. "It's not original to the truck, though it is from a later-model Ford, but no one should have to worry about conversion before they've had coffee. The electrical's been upgraded a couple times – we added a contemporary sound system and proper air conditioning, but Sven's family did all of that, so it would live within the original lines.
"And the engine?"
"I'll let Sven tell you about that… His family owns the dairy."
Zoe ran him through the basics… three pedals – accelerator, clutch, brakes, mirrors to see what was behind you, windshield for forward use. He understood the concepts but he'd never really played with such ancient tech before.
He inserted the key Zoe had given him into the ignition, and turned.
Bertha revved into life.
Geordi wasn't sure it was entirely healthy that he was having sudden visions of parking the truck out in one of the fields and lying in the bed with a pretty girl, watching the stars – at least – it wasn't healthy to have those visions while sitting next to Zoe.
Of course then he wondered if she and Data had taken Bertha out star-gazing on one of their previous visits to the farm. After two years, there was still a bit of a disconnect when he tried to merge the Data he knew – the socially awkward friend who was the consummate scientist, and by-the-book officer, with the partner – the lover – that he was to Zoe. He'd walked in on them once the last time she'd been home on the Enterprise, and it had been more embarrassing for him than for them, but… still…
"Put her in reverse, check the mirrors and give her some gas." Zoe's voice pulled him out of his reveries.
"Yeah, I got it," he said.
And he did.
(=A=)
They were about half-way to the dairy farm, according to Geordi's estimate, when Zoe dropped her bombshell.
"Data asked me if I wanted to end things." The words were spoken a voice that was a darker version of the young woman's usual breezy style, and she was looking out the passenger window when she uttered them, so her expression was unknown to him.
All Geordi could think was, oh, shit.
All Geordi could ask was, "What did you tell him?"
"I asked him if he really wanted that, and he tried to evade. He really sucks at lying, but he's an ace at evading," she added, almost as an afterthought. "Then he said that no, he didn't want to break up, he was simply offering me an 'out,' in case it was all too much."
"And?"
"I love him," she answered simply. "Is it hard, dealing with all this? Yes. Have I been dealt a ton of things that no one my age – no one any age – should have to deal with? Yes. But I knew, I knew being with Data wasn't going to be easy…" she trailed off, staring out the window again.
Geordi wasn't sure if he should encourage her to keep talking or let the woman just have a little peace, but she surprised him, by making the choice for him.
"I've always known even Data has a dark side. We see it so seldom that when it peeks out it's this huge contrast from his usual self, but it's there even without special enhancements from his psycho-bro."
"Psycho-bro?"
"I used to call him psycho-droid, but it felt kind of racist."
He couldn't help chuckling at that. "Yeah, I get it."
"But the thing is, even Data at his darkest is still… he's still Data, and I love him. I love perfectly precise Data, and pompous by-the-book Data, and broody Data, and hyper-focused Data, and sexy rumpled Data, and playful Data and…"
"You told him all that?" Geordi couldn't help interrupting.
"Yeah. And then I told him he was allowed to brood for another hour, because I was going out for ice cream, and he'd better be in a place, when I got back, where he understood that breaking up for my safety or my own good was simply not an option."
He couldn't help laughing at the notion of this woman – this young woman – giving orders to his best friend, but she must have appreciated the absurdity of the situation as well, because she joined in his laughter.
(=A=)
Geordi brought Bertha to a full stop in the side-yard of the Angstrom farm, in the place where Zoe had indicated.
"Turn the motor off, but leave the key in the ignition," she told him as she hopped out of the truck. "It's safe here." She waited for him, at the base of the steps that led to the side-porch of the house, and then darted up them, and knocked on the door.
A woman somewhere between Zoe's age and his own answered the door. She had a cloud of dark blonde hair framing a face that featured the bluest eyes Geordi's VISOR had ever interpreted. She pulled Zoe into a hug, and then extended her hand to the engineer.
"Welcome to Angstrom Farm, I'm Caroline, but most people call me Caro."
Geordi couldn't speak. He was staring at Caro – at Caroline – the same way he'd been staring at Bertha, earlier.
Well, maybe not quite the same way.
"Caro, this is Geordi, and you wouldn't know it but he's actually capable of speech. Is your dad around? I wanted to ask him to give G-man here the grand tour of Bertha's innards."
"He's out at the South Barn, but he'll be back any minute." She turned back to Zoe. "I have your ice cream ready – vanilla and the very last container of peppermint stick."
"I love you!" Geordi watched his young friend's face light up with the simple joy of a favorite flavor of ice cream.
Caro's laugh was like bells ringing in the engineer's head. "Only you, Zoe, could get that excited about ice cream."
"Caro can say things like that because her family and mine have been all tangled up in each other since the first colonists came to Centaurus," Zoe explained. "Listen, I have… someone… waiting for me at home, can I leave Geordi and Bertha in your hands, and borrow a flitter?"
"You need to get back to your Commander Data," Caroline guessed, sharing a glance with Geordi. "Take mine. If Geordi doesn't mind, he and Bertha can give me a ride back later, to pick it up."
"Geordi?" Zoe was looking at him, waiting for a response.
"I'd like that," he said, seizing the dual opportunities to get to know this woman and to step away from Data and Zoe for a bit. "I'd like that a lot."
(=A=)
The sun was beginning to set over the fields at Angstrom Farm, and Geordi wasn't even thinking about getting back to the Harrises' place. Caroline – Caro – had insisted he join her father and herself for lunch, and honestly, he couldn't remember the last time a turkey, bacon, and avocado sandwich had tasted so good.
"We bake our own bread, most of the time," the blonde woman had explained. "Or we buy from one of the vendors at the farmer's market. It runs year round, though the produce changes with the season."
"It's delicious," Geordi had assured her.
After lunch Sven had taken him on a tour of the farm that ended in the side yard. "And now," the old man had said, his eyes sparkling a blue nearly as bright as his daughter's, "you want me to show you Bertha's secrets. She's a lady, this one. And part of the family, too. Irene Harris and I had our first date in this truck, before she met Parker."
The farmer had reeled off his life story as he'd opened up the hood and taken Geordi through a hands-on explanation, weaving the two together. "We're descended from the Angstrom, of course. - Look here, we replaced the carburetor a few years back, and she probably needs a good tuning. - But physics wasn't really my thing. My father insisted I go back to Earth for a degree though. - Now the engine, even though she's been patched, is original to the truck. Don't ask me how we've kept her going. Spit and magic, I guess."
They'd stayed out there until Caroline had called them back inside, and asked, her blue eyes fixed on Geordi's face, "Are you staying to supper, as well?"
"I don't want to impose…"
"You're less of an imposition to us than you likely would be to Zoe and Data, right now." There was a knowing tone in the woman's voice, as if Zoe confided in her from time to time. And who wouldn't? Her whole manner breathed ease and trust.
"I'll stay, if I can help."
"You can help wish dishes after," Caro agreed. "We're having roast chicken tonight; I hope you don't mind?"
He didn't, and he said so.
Over dinner, he got the rest of the Angstroms' story. Sven's grandfather (also named Sven) had come to Centaurus as a boy, with his parents. He'd grown up in the city but after the Crisis – when much of the planet had been under siege from then-unknown alien forces – they'd relocated to the more rural environs, first to the Garrovick Valley, and later to the farm.
Old Papa Sven had a knack for machines, and worked odd jobs fixing tractors and upgrading replicators, and things like that, eventually signing on as the machinist for the Harris Farm. A couple generations later, the Angstroms had a dairy farm of their own, but they still worked for the Harris family, out of love and loyalty as much for financial reasons.
"My son, Caro's brother, is really the Harris machinist now, but I like to dip my fingers in, sometimes," the old man said.
Geordi had shared his own story as he 'helped' Caroline wash the dishes after their meal. If his elbow kept bumping hers as they handed plates and cutlery back and forth, while he told her about his mother who commanded a science vessel, and his sister who was constantly trying to hook him up with her friends, neither seemed to mind.
Then he told her about his sister and her cat.
"She really kept tuna fish in her shirt?" Caro asked.
"She really did," Geordi said. "I remember the smell," and he wrinkled his nose, just from talking about it. "And the way all the other pets in the neighborhood kept following her around. Like she was some weird twist on the Pied Piper."
He couldn't help but laugh at the vision in his head, and when the blonde dairy farmer joined his laughter he felt… he didn't know what, exactly, but he liked it.
"And you miss her, even so," Caroline pronounced, when their laughter had subsided.
Geordi felt his cheeks tightening into another smile. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I do."
(=A=)
"We'll take the long way back," Caro said as she slid into Bertha's passenger seat next to Geordi. "The moon's bright enough for you to see some scenery."
"Actually," he said, tapping his VISOR in a way he didn't typically do. "I can see in the dark."
He'd turned the key in the ignition then, and backed the truck out of the yard and into the road.
"Turn here," Caro directed him after about ten minutes of driving. "This road leads to the river. Night's like this, when the moon's nearly full, we can see the stars reflected in the water. Almost, I think we could also see the water reflected in the stars."
Geordi followed his companion's spoken guidance, eventually rolling the truck to a standstill a meter back from the river, with the tailgate toward the water. Wordlessly, he got out, and circled the hood-end to open Caroline's door.
They'd only met a few hours ago, but it seemed so right to have her so close.
She slipped her hand into his as they walked around the big red truck.
They both laughed when he didn't know how to open the 'gate, and laughed harder when she showed him, and then closed it and made him redo it.
Eventually, though, they were both lying in the truck bed, feed-sacks serving to pillow their heads. It was warm, for January, but when the wind changed they found the blankets stashed in webbing along the sides, and wrapped up in them.
Geordi gave Caro a tour of the stars, while they lay nestled together with soft burbling of the river serving as background music.
When he couldn't talk any more, Geordi turned his attention back to Caro, and found her staring at him. It seemed only natural to kiss her.
When her voice – bells wrapped in felt this time – asked him for more, it was equally natural to agree.
It was, Geordi reflected afterward while Caro dozed against him, a wonderful thing, to make love with a beautiful woman bathed in starlight.
(=A=)
On the ride from the riverbank back to Zoe's, Geordi had stretched his arm along the back of the seat, and Caro had tucked herself in against him.
When he'd parked Bertha in the barn, and helped Caroline out of the truck, they'd shared a few more kisses. "Spend the rest of your leave at the dairy," Caro had invited.
It was a fling.
They both knew it was just a fling.
They were also both unattached adults who seemed to connect.
"I'd like that," he said. "I'll be back over in the morning."
"I'll come get you at eleven," Caroline corrected him.
He'd laughed at her. "Alright. I'll be ready."
Geordi had stayed outside until her flitter was safely away. Then he'd walked back into the Harris farmhouse.
He shouldn't have been surprised that Data was waiting up for him.
"Hey," he greeted his best friend. "You doing okay?"
"Zoe and I have resolved our differences," the android assured him. "She knows me as well as you do, Geordi. She knew I did not truly wish to 'break up' with her."
Geordi gave his friend an appraising look, and when he spoke, his words shocked him. "If you threaten that again, I'll deactivate you myself." He wasn't sure, exactly when it had happened, but he'd shifted… he wasn't just Data's friend and ally, he was Zoe's as well.
"I will heed your warning," Data answered him, gravely. Then his tone brightened. "Zoe told me to ask you if you meant it when you called her 'amazing.'"
His friend, Geordi knew, meant the truck.
But when Geordi's lips stretched into his slow smile, and he answered, "Absolutely. Even more so than I ever imagined," he wasn't talking about Bertha, as much as Caroline.
Notes: This one-shot is a slightly belated birthday gift for Berkley. Happy birthday. Bertha the truck is mentioned in chapter 13 of Crush II: Ostinato. Sven is a running joke/NPC through much of Crush and Crush II. Caroline is named for one of my most loyal readers, and friends. I'll tell the Data/Zoe side of things when the main universe catches up. The Angstrom, Sven's antecedent, is Anders Jonas Angstrom, the physicist. The Crisis refers to the events of the TOS novel Crisis on Centaurus.