Data was due on duty in seventeen minutes and fifty-three seconds. It was far easier for him to get ready in this amount of time than it would be for most of the crew members, since he had no need to eat, attend to his personal hygiene, or even to truly wake up - so he quickly calculated that there was no need for him to move for another two minutes, fifty seconds. He was (if it were possible) enjoying the feeling of his arms encircling Tasha. He felt a certain contentment in being able to offer comfort to her while she was ill, slight though it might be as she was not even conscious. And fifteen minutes gave ample time for him to dress and report to the bridge.

With two minutes left, he pressed his face into the top of her head and planted a kiss there, breathing in the scent of her hair as he had read lovers were wont to do. All he detected was a faint trace of shampoo and the odd smell a familiar person's skin gets when they are sick, but her temperature seemed to be slightly up again - for a moment he considered calling Dr. Crusher, but she had been clear that Brzzaddian flu took six days to run its course and was harmless in the long term.

He looked at her, drank in the sight of her closed, peaceful eyes and every faint line at the corners of her mouth, every stray eyelash and modulation in skin tone. He memorized the contours of her face, every plane and angle, and stored the image in his priority memory files. Then it was time to go.

When Data moved to get up for his shift, gently extracting his arms from where they had been holding Tasha tightly, it was with the hope of allowing her to remain asleep. But as soon as he started to sit up, she stirred fitfully and grabbed on to his wrist.

"Please don't go," she whispered, voice still blurred from sleep and rough from a badly inflamed throat. Data paused, half-sitting, with one arm already reaching for his uniform.

"I must depart, Tasha," he said apologetically. "I am due on duty in fifteen minutes, sixteen seconds."

"Please stay." She coughed, and struggled to rise into a sitting position before Data pushed her back down gently, half-laying back down on the bed beside her. "Do not over exert yourself," he said. "You must rest if you wish to recover in a timely fashion."

"Data, please stay," she begged again, voice rasping. She sounded terrible. He put a hand against her forehead.

"Your temperature is elevated again," he informed her. "May I bring you a glass of water?"

She coughed again, shivering slightly. "I just want to go back to sleep. Please don't go."

Data pondered. "Since I currently have 114 saved up 'vacation days', the captain might not be averse to my arriving late on duty. I will ask." He stood and retrieved his comm. badge from Tasha's side table.

"Data to Bridge." The sound of the communicator pinged, the Captain and Commander Riker exchanging a look before the former responded.

"Go ahead, Mister Data," he said.

"Request permission to arrive late on duty, sir. Lieutenant Yar has asked I remain here - she seems to be feeling worse today."

Riker raised his eyebrows and a barely-concealed incredulous smile lit his face. The Captain considered for a moment before nodding curtly. "Take the day off, Mister Data."

"Thank you, sir."

"You take good care of our chief of security, Data," Riker added, grinning.

"I will, sir," he responded seriously.

And he did.