Disclaimer: This is a blanket disclaimer for the whole story. CBS/Paramount owns Star Trek: The Next Generation, the U.S.S. Enterprise, and all of the canon characters. I'm writing this for love, not money.
Continuity Note: Directly follows the one-shot Bedtime Story. See NOTES for more info.
Celestial Navigation
Stardate 46028.07
(Saturday, 11 January 2369, 05:57 hours, ship's time)
Aboard the S/V Varuna
Wind was howling all around me, and I was grateful that I was wearing a harness over my foul-weather gear, and had it clipped to the lifeline, as another massive wave lifted the tiny sailboat I was on, rolling her forward, and then sending her crashing down into a watery trough. Wash, rinse repeat, except that both the 'wash' and 'rinse' bits were with saltwater. The same saltwater had turned my chestnut hair into an itchy, crusty, knot twisted into a semblance of submission on the back of my head, and chapped my lips badly enough that the use of a dermal regenerator would be the first thing I accomplished once I made landfall.
Well, maybe not the first thing. Even salt-chapped lips wouldn't prevent me from giving my boyfriend an enthusiastic greeting when I next saw him.
The wind grew rougher and I reached to crank the sail, reefing it in another notch. There was a flash of lightning, a crash of thunder, and my hand slipped on the crank for a second, but I managed to keep control of it, and stay on my feet.
I was too late in taking in the sail though, because the next gust came at the same time as the next wave, and my little boat was knocked about seventy-five degrees in exactly the wrong direction. Instead of heading into the waves, we – my boat and I - were getting slammed broadside by their force.
The sailboat, the Varuna, pitched and yawed, bucking against my hand on the wheel, and oblivious to the state of the sails. Finally, the ocean prevailed and a wall of water came crashing down on us, making my boat roll sideways. We bounced back upright, but the mast snapped in half in the process. There was no time to settle. The sea was too rough. There was too much water. The waves prevailed, and we rolled.
We rolled.
I felt myself floating free from the boat, and had a moment of panic. The leash that led from my harness to the lifeline was meant to keep me from being washed overboard when the boat was upright, but now, with it capsized, I feared I'd be trapped underneath.
We rolled, and just at the point when I was almost out of air we were on top of the waves again, and I landed on the wooden deck, coughing and spluttering.
I pushed myself to my feet as another giant wave was about to slam down on us, but the alarm I'd set began chiming at the same time that a familiar warm tenor voice instructed, "Computer, freeze program."
The wave became a slightly shimmery wall of blue, and I glanced over at the man standing in the holodeck archway. "Aren't you supposed to be on the bridge?"
Data's head tilt was only slightly reproachful. "Are you not meant to be sleeping?" His nearly imperceptible stressing of the word 'you' made the question less cold, and more personal. "Zoe, forgoing sleep will not delay your mother's departure. Tomorrow is her last day aboard, and I know you will regret it if you do not 'make time' for her."
I had the decency to look chagrinned. "I couldn't sleep." I tell him, and I know he hears more than the obvious meaning in the three words I've uttered. "Computer," I command, "Save program and end."
The water disappeared first, and then the boat around me dissolved into nothing, leaving me standing on the bare black and yellow holo-grid, in the jeans and t-shirt I'd been wearing under the holographic protective gear. My hair was no longer crusted with salt, and neither were my lips. I was still waterlogged though, and my sneakers sloshed as I walked over to my partner, leaving a trail of water behind me. It would be cleaned as soon as we exited the space, and the holodeck cycled.
"Why aren't you on the bridge?" I asked. "No one had the holodeck reserved for this time, and I wasn't using any of the intense programs." I stood on tip-toe to kiss him without getting his uniform wet. "Is something wrong?"
"Except for your recent inability to sleep through the night, nothing is amiss," he said. "Ensign Hawke is standing a dog-watch until ten-hundred hours, and will page me if something should come up before my duty-shift officially ends at eight-hundred hours."
Data – and all the senior officers - being on-call but not actually on the bridge during slow hours of the overnight shifts and weekend mornings was a new policy Captain Picard had put into effect at the beginning of the year. It was his way of testing some of the junior officers, as well as giving the senior staff a bit more 'down' time.
If many of us – me, especially – who weren't in the inner circle suspected this meant something big and dangerous was lurking in the next asteroid field, or behind an unsuspecting planetoid, no one was talking about it, and when I'd asked my boyfriend, he'd only told me what I'd already knew: Duties were often shifted to accommodate the needs of ship and crew, or expanded to enhance the experiences of rising officers.
We exited the holodeck and made our way toward the turbo-lift that would take us to deck eight, and home. "She changed her name," I blurted as we entered the 'lift. "I mean she took his name. Ed's. Why do they phrase it that way? 'Took' his name, like she's some kind of petty thief? But anyway, she's using Benoit."
"Is that unexpected?" Data asked. "'Harris' was not her birth name, and she has remarried. Perhaps she simply wishes a fresh start."
"But it's my name," I complained, working hard to keep any hint of a whining tone out of my voice. "I'm fine with her leaving the ship – I mean, it's not my decision, but I'm happy for her – I really am – but this feels like she's disowning me somehow."
"Ah! You are feeling as if your mother is emotionally disconnecting you from her new family." Data could be incredibly insightful at times. "I believe you know that she is doing no such thing. You must simply give yourself time to allow your heart to 'catch up' with your head."
I peered at him through slitted eyes. "When exactly did you become an expert on mother-daughter relationships?"
"I am not," he replied. "However, we have been a couple for over a year – "
"- barely – "
"Even 'barely' is still 'over,'" he countered smoothly, and then continued, "and we shared a close association for nearly one and one half years before that. If I am not quite an 'expert' in the mind and moods of Zoe Harris, I believe I qualify as 'extremely knowledgeable' at the very least."
I let my face relax and my eyes widen into a more neutral expression. "You're going to tell me that I should confront my mother about how I feel before she leaves, aren't you?"
He opened his mouth as if to speak, closed it again as I'd clearly stolen his line, and then opened it again. "I am not, if only because you have just demonstrated that you know what you must do. I will, however, remind you that you are typically better able to handle difficult conversations when you are well-rested, rather than exhausted from spending the 'wee hours' of the morning nearly drowning on the holodeck."
The doors opened onto the corridor where we lived. I answered him while we walked but reduced the volume of my voice. "You know better than anyone that I was in no danger of actually drowning. And I'm not exhausted," I said trying to hide a yawn. "I'm pleasantly tired and ready to get a couple more hours of sleep before I meet Mom for lunch."
Data held his response until we were inside our quarters and the door had slid shut behind us. "You accepted her invitation?"
My mother had been attempting to schedule a last mother-daughter meal with me for nearly a week, and I'd been putting her off while I worked through my own issues about her leaving. On the one hand I was never going to live at home again. I'd moved in with Data before I left for a six-month contract with the Idyllwild Theatre Company's summer tour, spent a month sharing my San Francisco apartment with him during the rehearsal period, while he was on detached assignment at Starfleet HQ, and survived my - our – first taste of being dragged through tabloids.
On the other hand, my relationship with my mother had been fragile for years, and it was only after she'd dragged me to the Enterprise that we'd repaired those years' worth of me feeling abandoned and her feeling guilty and neither of us knowing how to communicate.
"Actually, no." I said, feeling a bit of pride at the hint of surprise on my lover's face. "She accepted my invitation." I moved through the main room to our bedroom. "What time is it?"
"Zero-seven-twenty-nine," came Data's answer.
I yawned my acknowledgement and began peeling off wet clothing. "Should I set an alarm, or will you wake me at eleven?"
"I will wake you."
"Join me, when your shift is over?"
"Of course." I heard him sit in the chair behind his console, and heard his soft command to the computer as he began whatever task was foremost in his mind at that moment. Then I crawled into our bed, letting Spot curl up in front of me.
Half an hour later, when Data supplanted the cat in our bed, I woke up just enough to resettle myself against his chest. When he woke me at eleven, I was ready to face almost anything… even a last lunch with my mother.
(=A=)
"Zoe, I'm confused," my mother said after we'd each finished our meals and the server in Ten-Forward had brought us fresh coffee. "When I asked you for your approval of my marriage to Ed, you gave it whole-heartedly. When I asked if you wanted me to stay on the ship until you graduate, you encouraged me to take the position on Earth. You've been back on the ship for a month now, and you and Data seem to be adjusting to living together… what's got you so rattled?"
Trust my mother to beat me to the punch.
Two years before, I would have been sullen and glowery and made some snarky remark, before running from the room. A year before, I would have hemmed and hawed and made her drag the truth from me. That day, I did the adult thing, and told the truth. I even remembered everything I'd learn in a year's worth of sessions with Counselor Troi, and used I-statements:
"I do like Ed, and I know he makes you happy. And I would never want to be the reason you don't take a job that's practically made for you, but I hadn't realized until you sent the invitation to your farewell party that you'd changed your last name." Spoken out loud, it sounded a bit petty on my part, but feelings were feelings and truth was truth.
Behind the coffee cup she'd been about to sip from, my mother's face blanched. "I never told you," she said. "Oh, Zoe, I'm sorry. You know it has nothing to do with you, don't you?"
"Honestly, Mom? I feel a little like I'm being left behind… like there's no place for me in your new family." I saw her face fall, and added. "Intellectually, I know that's not really true, but emotionally… I just wish you'd told me."
My mother nodded, and set down her cup, reaching across the table for my hand, which I placed in hers. "Zoe, you've handled so much, so well, since you came to the Enterprise, and especially in the last year… You've spent the last six months leading your own life; you're living with the man you love. You're so grown up, that sometimes I can convince myself you don't really need me anymore, but you will always - always – be my daughter, and there will always be a place for you in my family, and my home."
The intensity of her words made my eyes misty, and the grip of her hand around mine made me realize just how much I was going to miss her. "I just… I felt like you were cutting me out."
"I'm not," she promised. "I would never." She squeezed my hand and then released it. Folding both her hands in front of her on the table, she explained, "I gave up the name 'Morelli' when I married your father, because I was pregnant with you, and we felt having a single family name was important. Your father was already a 'name,' and I've always thought hyphenates were… klunky."
I managed a smile at her choice of words. "Klunky? Really?"
"Really," she said with a slight chuckle. "My relationship with Ed, this position at the Academy – they're a new start for me, kiddo. One of the reasons I decided to pursue the position at all is so that I'll be close enough for you to visit while you're at Yale… so you won't have to choose between seeing me and coming here to spend your time with Data."
The mist in my eyes became full-on tears. It hadn't yet occurred to me that I'd have to make those sorts of choices, but my mother had quietly arranged her own future to accommodate mine. "I thought… I mean, I know I told you to go, but I felt like you were just blissfully leaving me behind."
"Oh, Zoificus." My mother's eyes were wet, as well. "I felt like you were leaving me, when you told me you were moving in with Data." She took a breath. "I have to ask… are you certain about staying with him?"
It was a fair question, but it was also one I'd had a lot of time to consider during those long, lonely nights in the hotel rooms when I was on tour. "I'm certain," I said. "I promise, Mom, this wasn't a rash decision, or a reaction to walking in on you and Ed that time. Data and I had been discussing it for weeks before that night." I took a beat, because I felt myself getting overly emotional. I took a breath, as well, composing myself. "We've been talking about the future… about what we both want from it. We're not planning to rush into anything, but we've discussed the possibility of marriage someday." It was the first time I'd told anyone.
I expected to see shock or dismay on my mother's face. Instead, her expression was calm. "I won't tell you that you're too young, because I wasn't that much older than you when I married your father. But I have to remind you, even just dating Data, there are people who aren't going to accept your relationship."
"Do you? Accept it?"
My mother closed her eyes for a long moment. When she opened them again, and met mine, I saw the truth in them, and saw it echoed in her gentle smile. "I've seen the depth of his caring for you, and I've watched you blossom within the relationship you two have. How could I not accept the undeniable connection you have with each other?"
I didn't have the right words to respond with. Instead, I just said, "I love you, Mom."
"I love you, too, kiddo. You'll come to the party tonight? Twenty-hundred hours, holodeck two."
"Data and I will both be there," I promised, smiling. Data had already informed me that he would be attending whether I did or not, but I didn't mention that to my mother.
(=A=)
Stardate 46033.65
(Monday, 13 January 2369, 06:49 hours, ship's time)
"Well, that was oddly anti-climactic," I grumbled to Data as we exited the transporter room. Mom and Ed had just beamed over to the Alexander Hamilton, the ship that would carry them to Earth. "I feel like I'm supposed to be bawling, or something."
"It is possible that you will experience a stronger reaction after you have had some time to 'decompress,'" he suggested. "However, I believe that the reason you are not as distressed as you feel you ought to be is that everything that 'needed saying' between you and your mother has already been said. This morning's departure, is not any kind of 'coming-of-age ritual.' Rather, it is more an expansion of a separation that has already occurred."
My eyes met his and I shrugged slightly. "Yeah, maybe." He turned the transporter controls back over to the ensign who was assigned there that day, and we exited the room, and headed for the turbo-lifts. "It was nice of you to see them off with me."
"They have become 'like family,' to me," he revealed. "As well, we all share an affection for you." He preceded me into the 'lift, and requested the deck for our quarters. I'd been expecting him to head for the bridge, but he saw my surprised face and explained, "I am off-duty until this afternoon, and as you know, classes do not resume until tomorrow."
I'd known about the classes. I had meetings scheduled the next day with Ms. Phelps, the high school guidance counselor, and Tlassam Prerr, the ship's protocol officer, to discuss my new schedule. But the rest… "You rearranged your schedule so I wouldn't have to send them off alone?"
"For that, yes, but also because we have another task we must make headway on, even if we do not complete it."
"What's that?" I asked.
"We must determine how we will be celebrating your eighteenth birthday."
"About that…"
"Do you not wish to have a party?"
"Well, if it were really up to me, you and I would sneak off to Terlina III for a week, but that's not really a practical option just now, is it?"
"No, it is not." He took a beat, and said, just before the turbo-lift doors opened on our deck, "I am pleased that you are willing to return to Terlina."
"More than willing," I said, as we reached the entrance to the rooms we called home. "It's going to sound silly… maybe even naïve, but ever since we went there, and I saw how you'd had the master bedroom altered to accommodate not just my needs, but ours, as a couple, I've had this recurring fantasy about making it our home. I mean, not to live in day-to-day, because your work is here, and I'm going to be on Earth for four years, and then, who knows? But, as a home base, for any time we both have a long enough vacation."
As I was speaking, I had also been moving through the main room of our quarters to the couch where I kicked off my shoes and slouched comfortably into my usual corner. "I'm sorry, Data, I'm being presumptuous again. We've never even discussed what you plan to do with the house, and here I am practically planning a future that's only a possibility." My expression was sheepish and I knew it.
My boyfriend joined me on the couch, sitting at an angle so he could face me. "You are not being presumptuous, Zoe. While Terlina is somewhat outside the most frequently-used shipping routes, it is not so far 'off the beaten track' that living there would be uncomfortable; the caretakers have proven to be extremely resourceful." His tone changed to one that was more personal, more intimate. "I, too, have envisioned us occupying it at some point in the future." He lifted my stockinged feet and placed them in his lap, resting his hands on my ankles. "However, we are both digressing. With the understanding that we will not be leaving the Enterprise, how would you like to mark the occasion of your birthday?"
I thought about it for a few minutes, letting ideas float into my consciousness, and then pushing them away. Finally, I said. "Do any of the existing sailing programs allow for a fairly large sailboat and a two- or three-hour cruise around, say, Solstice Island, on Pacifica, or San Francisco Bay? Or maybe Tahiti, where the water's actually swimmable?"
"If they do not, I am certain they could easily be modified. I am happy to help."
"What, you're not going to suggest I get Reg to do the coding?" I teased. "We've never worked on a non-musical, non-theatrical project together. It could be fun."
"Indubitably," Data said. I could practically see ideas sparking into being inside his head, as he left the couch in favor of the chair at his workstation. "Zoe, could you describe what you have in mind?"
So I did.
(=A=)
Stardate 46037.92
(Thursday, 16 January 2369, 20:13 hours, ship's time)
"You're late." Captain Picard's good-naturedly gruff voice responded when I knocked on the frame of the open door to the workout room. He had already donned bag gloves and was doing warm-up jabs, not really hitting the heavy bag that dangled into the center of the room.
"I wasn't sure I was going to come at all," I admitted. "I'm woefully out of practice, and Lasso gave me a mountain of reading to wade through." Lasso was the name the ship's protocol officer preferred to use with 'friends, colleagues, and close associates' and he had been put in charge of my first rotation in the alternative education pilot program I'd been drafted into.
"What made you change your mind?"
"It's Data's turn to host poker night, and hanging out reading in the bedroom while a good chunk of your command crew is playing cards on the other side of the wall is all kinds of awkward."
"I'm sure they would have welcomed you at the card table," the captain said.
"Oh, Will and Geordi both invited me to play," I said, stripping off the Beach Haven Yacht Club sweatshirt I'd worn over my athletic gear. A sports bra and stretch-pants were acceptable attire for an actual workout, but not so much for traipsing around the ship. "I had to decline."
He passed me my own pair of bag gloves – pink ones – and asked, "Did you?"
"Yes, sir. For a lot of reasons, including the fact that Data deserves to have time with his friends without his girlfriend tagging along."
Something flickered in his expression. Relief, maybe, that he didn't have cause to worry about me overhearing things I had no business knowing? Possibly I was just reading more than was there, though, because I always had the sense that I was being evaluated during every encounter we had.
"It's astute of you to recognize that," he observed, proving me at least partially correct. "Shall we begin? We'll start with the basics to see how much your form has slipped. Right hand attacks, left hand defends, now jab…"
We worked with the heavy bag for about forty-minutes, and I could tell both from how much I was making the bag swing, as well as from Captain Picard's responses that my form hadn't suffered too much from six months with extremely limited opportunity to train. Oh, I'd done some sparring with Idyllwild's fight choreographer before we left San Francisco, but stage boxing and real boxing are almost nothing alike, except for the outfits.
"Drop your shoulder," the captain instructed, and I did, but the right upper-cut I was trying to execute went wild.
"Ow!" I'd managed to strain the shoulder I was meant to be dropping, but I could almost feel what I'd been doing wrong, and I wanted to correct it. Before I could take another swing, though, the captain called for a break.
"Zoe, stop." Captain Picard stilled the swinging of the punching bag. "Sit down; drink some water."
I gratefully complied, collapsing onto the bench against the wall. I stripped off the bag gloves, and reached for the bottle of water that was always waiting for me. "I told you I was woefully out of practice," I panted. "I wasn't kidding."
"Right now, young woman, I am less concerned with your lack of a training regimen than I am about your shoulder. Is there any throbbing?" There was the merest hint of concerned affection coloring his typical gruffness, and that made me answer truthfully.
"No throbbing. There was a twinge, is all."
His steely eyes met mine, and his expression was one of appraisal. I half-expected him to end our session, but he merely encouraged me to drink more water. Then he surprised me with a more personal question. "How are you adjusting to being back on the Enterprise?"
"I'm… settling," I said. And then, because he was still looking at me with that appraising gaze I added, "Data told you about my early morning gonzo-sailing trip on the holodeck, didn't he?"
"Not in precisely that language, but… yes."
"I'm doing alright," I said. "I mean, at first I felt a bit abandoned by my mother, but that was just because she'd never told me about changing her name."
"She's using Benoit now." He made it a confirmation.
"Yes, but she hadn't told me. And I get it, sir, I do. But it was… jarring, and I didn't handle it terribly well. Being on the water - even if it was holographic water – helped."
"I can imagine." He let silence stretch between us for several seconds, then added. "When I was a boy I also found solace in the sea. Mastering the wind and the waves is a heady feeling."
"But you ended up going to space. Is it just as heady, sir, when you master that?"
"Hmph. I don't believe anyone truly masters space."
"Why did you choose it then?" I wasn't sure if he would answer, but my curiosity was sincere.
"Oh… Zoe. I grew up reading the stories of all the great explorers. I chose Starfleet because it was the best path toward following in their footsteps. The sea I sail now is the one made of stars, but it holds as many, or more, treasures waiting to be found, and discoveries waiting to be documented." Something about his words was so honest, and so poetic, that I didn't want to respond, for fear of spooking the captain out of his nostalgic mood. I needn't have worried, though, because he changed the subject. "Do you sail when you're not on a holodeck, Zoe?"
"Swimming, sailing, surfing. If it involves water and waves, I pretty much do it. I'm better at surfing than sailing, but the sailing programs on the holodeck are more challenging." I chuckled softly, almost ruefully. "I guess it's my year for diving into challenges."
"Your new education program?" he asked, even though we both knew that's what I'd been referring to. Trust him to circle back to that.
"Yes, sir."
"Lasso's report on your first meeting with him was favorable. How do you feel about what you'll be doing?"
"I'm a little overwhelmed, but I'm pretty sure that will wear off. Right now, I feel like I'm in an intense cram session for an exam in a class I've never even taken. Also? I hadn't realized Lasso – I can't believe he prefers being called 'Lasso' - has a sense of humor."
"Oh?" The captain seemed as though he was hiding a grin.
"The first time I met him, I thought he was intimidating, or that he saw me as an annoyance. And the second time, I was pretty sure I was just one more task on his endless list." I stressed the words on purpose. "But on Tuesday when we met with Ms. Phelps, and then continued our meeting alone, he seemed really excited about… how did he put it? 'Being in charge of designing the maze for the guinea pig.' He suggested that while Data couldn't supervise me - as we discussed – I shouldn't hesitate to ask for his guidance on scheduling some of the things he wants me to do."
"Can you think of anyone better suited to helping you create a workable schedule that includes both theory and practice?"
I couldn't, and I told him so, adding, "It'll take more than Data to help me figure out how to get through all the reading he assigned, though. Sometimes I envy his super android information acquisition skills."
"As do I," the captain confessed with a grin that visited his face and left it again almost instantly. How's your shoulder?"
I rotated it experimentally. No burning, no more twinges. "I think I'm good," I said.
He flashed another thin smile and nodded his head, putting a button on the conversational part of the evening. "Grand. Now then, shall we box?"
I favored him with my fiercest gaze. "Bring it."
We sparred for thirty minutes or so, but it wasn't as much a challenge or a competition, as it was a hands-on lesson with the captain offering corrections on my stance while we worked out. We stopped when Data arrived to escort me home. Sweaty and exhausted, I collapsed onto the bench to guzzle more water.
"Good work tonight, Zoe." Captain Picard told me. "When you get home, take a shower with hot water and sonics, and if you haven't already had dinner, make sure you eat lightly." It was the advice any coach would give their student. He recycled his water bottle and towel, murmured something to Data that I couldn't discern, and took his leave of us.
"Yes, sir," I panted in the direction of his disappearing form. To Data, I said, "I need a minute. I'm pretty sure my entire body has turned to jelly."
Data nodded, and joined me on the bench. "You and Captain Picard seem to get along well," he observed.
"He's a lot less intimidating in workout clothes than he is in uniform," I offered, by way of an explanation. "Did you know he used to sail, as a boy?"
"I did not," Data answered. "But I do not find it 'at odds' with what I know of him. Perhaps it is your mutual taste for adventure that allows him to connect with you."
"That or my killer sense of humor," I agreed, only half-teasing him. "I think I can move now," I added a beat later. "The thought of a shower might have something to do with it. Especially if it's followed by a cup of tea with the hottest second officer on the ship."
Data was nothing if not the perfect straight man. "I am the only second officer on the ship," he pointed out.
"Details, details," but I was laughing as I said it. I got off the bench, recycled my own bottle and bag gloves and preceded him from the room. Outside the gym, I slipped my hand into his, just because I could, and the feeling of his fingers twining with mine, gave me the reassurance I needed to ask, "Do you think it would be incredibly inappropriate to invite the captain to my birthday party? I mean, I know he'll probably decline, but… would it be wrong to ask?"
"I will ask him, if you wish," Data offered.
"I do wish," I said.
We were quiet the rest of the way home, but it was a comfortable, companionable kind of quiet, the kind that only bolstered my confidence in our relationship. It was also a quiet that was ruined by a burst of kinetic energy practically hitting us as we exited the turbo-lift on our deck.
The gold-clad cause of that energy stopped and stammered an apology. "Oh… D-data… Zoe… I'm – I'm sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going."
"Are you alright, Reg?" I asked the perpetually nervous engineer.
"I'm… I'm fine…" he said. "Sorry. Sorry again, sir… Zoe."
He disappeared before Data had even begun to speak. Inside our quarters, I asked. "Is it just me, or is he getting weirder?"
"I am not certain what you mean by 'weirder,'" Data answered, his tone betraying that he, too, was perplexed. "However, while Lt. Barclay is often somewhat – I believe the correct term is high strung - he did seem more agitated than usual. I will let Geordi know to check in with him tomorrow."
For half a second, I was confused about Geordi being the one to check on Reg, but then I remembered that as an engineering specialist, Barclay would report to our friend. I thought about asking whether or not Data would have made that suggestion if I hadn't been there, but chose to hold my tongue. Instead I just said, "I hope he's okay."
(=A=)
Stardate 46048.11
(Saturday, 18 January 2369, 13:27 hours, ship's time)
"Classes are weird without you," my best friend Dana complained over a late lunch in Ten-Forward.
Data was busy trying to figure out why a science ship called the Yosemite was essentially dead in space, with all of her crew missing, so after a late, lazy morning, and an hour of actually playing my cello, just in case quartet rehearsals would begin soon, I contacted my best friend and invited her to meet me.
"It's just me, Josh, and Rryl in Data's math tutorial, and the new history teacher is a security specialist, and always wants to talk about everything from a military strategy point of view." It was rare for Dana to complain about anything. When she did, we all took it seriously.
"I feel your pain," I said. "It's not like I've gotten off light with this new internship, though. I have mountains of reading to do, plus I'm taking private lessons to continue my study of Vulcan language and culture, and I'm supposed to be helping Lasso plan a formal welcome dinner for some ambassador we're picking up next week, all the while learning about the dispute he's supposed to be solving. The ambassador, I mean, not Lasso."
"Who's Lasso?"
"Lt. Prerr. Tlassam Prerr. Protocol officer. He says no one pronounces his first name correctly, anyway, so why not just be Lasso… at least that has some style." My voice took on a hint of my current supervisor's musical accent, one that was both reminiscent of a Jamaican accent from Earth, and completely unlike it, both at the same time.
Dana laughed. "Party planning and reading? Really?"
"Well, the reading is a lot of political theory, etiquette guides, and declassified ship's logs. It's dryer than it sounds, I swear."
"Yes, but at least you're not stuck in classes anymore."
"Truth?" I asked my friend. She nodded and I continued. "I thought I'd love not being in classes. I thought I'd love having a schedule I make myself – well, Data helped me work out the actual time-table – but there are days when I'd rather be back in lit class with you and Josh. I keep telling myself it's only been a week, and I should give it more time, but I feel undereducated and overwhelmed."
"Is that why you've been so scarce all week?"
"Yeah… mostly," I said. "The rest is…" I stopped myself. "The rest I feel weird talking to you about because it involves Data, and you're still his student."
Dana's hand darted out to touch mine, reassuringly. "It's a little awkward, yeah, but if you need to talk, I'll listen. Maybe you could talk about the non-Data-specific stuff?"
I flashed a grateful smile. "Most of it is non-Data-specific. I'm adjusting to living with my boyfriend, and most of time it's easy, but then there are times when it's not. Like when he was hosting poker night for the othe – for his friends. I had a thing of my own, but if it had ended sooner and I'd wanted to go home to bed, I would have felt like I was intruding, or… it would have just been strange and awkward."
My friend's smile was a sympathetic one. "I can see why that would be a little unsettling," Dana said. "You should talk to him about it. Figure out a plan or ground rules or something."
"You'd think I would have done that, wouldn't you?" I asked wryly. "I think I'm still wrapping my brain around not being a guest." I paused for a moment, suddenly unsure of what to say next. Finally, I asked, "So, how are things with Josh?"
Dana grinned. "Wow, Zoe, you are out of the loop. We broke up right after Christmas, but we're still friends. He's dating one of the interns in the childcare center."
"Really? Is he truly into her, or does he just want access to the cool toys?" Our mutual friend and classmate had always been a lot like an overgrown child, himself.
"Probably both," Dana said, grinning.
I laughed. "Yeah, you're probably right; what about you, though? Is there a new guy?"
She muttered a name I couldn't discern.
"I'm sorry, what?"
Blushing, my best friend said, "I'm dating Ethan Lovejoy, okay. And yes, I know he was your Romeo in the play, and yes, I know he's got a reputation, and yes his breath is kind of scary – we're working on that – but he's funny, and he's sweet, and he treats me nicely, and I like him."
I sat back in my chair, totally unsure how to respond. Ethan Lovejoy was also known as Ensign Loverboy, but he did have a sweet side.
"Well?" Dana asked, after almost a minute of silence.
"Well," I said. "Are you happy?"
"Yes." She said it with such certainty that I had no trouble believing her.
"Good." I grinned. "Bring him to my birthday party, if you want."
A weight I hadn't realized my friend was carrying until her posture changed seemed to ease out of the blonde woman across the table from me. "Okay," she said. After a couple of deep breaths, she repeated it, "Okay." And then in a really small voice she added, "You're really not mad?"
It was my turn to reach for her hand. "Why would I be?" I asked. "You're my friend. He and I never actually dated; we were just in a play together… and he's a lot more age-appropriate for you than the man I'm with so… really… why would I be mad?"
"I don't know," she said. "I just thought you might be."
"I promise I'm not."
"Good," she said. "Now, tell me what you've got planned for your birthday. Did Data put something together? You have to do something amazing; it's your eighteenth."
(=A=)
Stardate 46057.38
(Tuesday, 21 January 2369, 22:39 hours, ship's time)
Aboard the S/V Intrepid
The moon was nearly full over the lagoon near Papeete, Tahiti, and the temperature of both air and sea had been conducive to diving from the platform at the aft end of the twelve-meter ketch we were aboard. (The Varuna wasn't large enough to accommodate a dozen people, so we'd commandeered the Intrepid for my birthday.) Some of us had been alternately swimming and sunning since late afternoon, while others had joined us later. Food and drinks had been plentiful and everyone aboard was pleasantly tired, pleasantly full, and pleasantly lulled by the gentle rocking of the boat upon the waves.
A soft click followed by an increase in illumination provided by fairy lights strung into the ringing and along the life-lines of the boat signaled to all of us that it was nearly time to change tacks.
"Oh, that's lovely!" I exclaimed looking first at the lights themselves, and then at their murky reflection on the surface of the water. "You did this," I accused my boyfriend, against whom I was reclining. He himself was sitting in the bowsprit of the boat, his back against the foremost strut of the metal railing.
"You described an idea and I 'ran with it,'" he affirmed. "Do you approve?"
I smiled, then turned my head slightly and stretched backward to steal a kiss while no one was watching. "It's perfect," I breathed. "I couldn't ask for anything more."
Data had been holding me loosely his arms around me, and his hands clasped and resting on my bare skin, just above the top edge of the black, purple, and gold pareo I'd tied over a matching bikini. "If you need nothing more, then, perhaps we should forego cake and presents?"
"Hah! Tease!" The words were wrapped in laughter before I flung them in his direction.
He squeezed me ever so slightly against him, and then released me, pushing gently so that I'd know to swing my feet up from where they'd been dangling over the water, and stand up. Once I had, he announced, in a voice that managed to carry throughout the boat without being uncomfortably loud (super android acoustics, maybe?) "Everyone, if you would all please gather below-deck we will be serving coffee and cake in the salon."
Our guests – those who had been my classmates and those who were really more Data's family-of-choice, but were becoming my friends, as well – moved from the corners of the boat they'd been occupying. Robin Lefler, Counselor Troi, and Dr. Crusher had been chatting in the cockpit, while Ray Barnett had been at the aft end of the boat with Geordi and Commander Riker. My closest friends Dana and Josh, each with a new significant other, had staked out sections on the port and starboard sides of the mast, using the mainsail as a sort of privacy divider.
I had been barred from the salon for most of the day, being led through it blindfolded when I'd had to use the head, but now, following the rest of the group, I was excited that I'd finally able to see what Data had created.
I was on the second step down the hatchway from the cockpit, with Data behind me, when there was a soft bump against the boat. I heard a gruff voice mutter "Merde." Then, after a beat, the same voice called out, "Ahoy, Intrepid, room for one more?"
"Captain Picard," Data called back, "welcome. Please hold one moment. We will throw you a line." I went with him to do that, and it's a good thing I did, because while Data was securing the captain's dinghy to the Intrepid's side, and extending the ladder, I was being handed a bundle of wrapped packages.
"Captain Picard, I honestly didn't think you'd come."
"Nonsense, Zoe. A member of the Enterprise family turning eighteen happens very rarely. I wouldn't have missed it."
He was up the ladder and on deck with the quick grace I'd grown used to seeing during my boxing lessons, but refused to accept the bundle back. "Those are for you; you may as well hang onto them."
"Yes, sir."
"If you'll come this way sir," Data added, "we were just gathering in the salon for cake and coffee."
The three of us stepped through the hatch to join everyone else, who were already arranged around the teak table. In the center of it there was a cake decorated with a mermaid version of me playing my cello in an undersea quartet. The first violinist's face bore a striking resemblance to the man whose hand was currently at my back.
"Oh, that's awesome!" I blurted, and everyone laughed. "Please tell me someone brought a camera or tricorder so we can get a picture before it gets sliced?"
I was ushered into one of the remaining open spots, sitting next to Data so the captain could be at the end of the table, and it was only then that I noticed that there was a small mountain's worth of presents as well.
"I believe we should serve cake and coffee, and then Zoe can unwrap her gifts while we eat," Data suggested.
No one objected, but Commander Riker insisted that everyone sing Happy Birthday to me.
"I recommend the doctor put her surgical skills to use on the cake," Picard suggested, and she immediately complied, even though it was obviously not an order. It helped that she was sitting in the center of the table. Similarly, Geordi and Josh were closest to the galley, and therefore in charge of coffee and tea.
I worked through the gifts while we ate. Most of them were fairly usual – a scarf from the counselor, a hand-painted t-shirt from Dana, and earrings from the doctor. Geordi had given me a set of the expanded Warp 10 card game he, Data, and I had played on Terlina III, and I received a collection of books and music on data-solids from Josh and Ray. Robin had presented me with a copy of her self-written laws, but also the replicator pattern for a dress we'd both liked.
Commander Riker's gift was also a data-solid full of music, but there was a second item in the box he'd given me. I unwrapped the tissue holding it and found a comm-badge. Holding it up I asked, "Will?"
There was a general hush as small side-conversations went silent, and then the first officer grinned at me. "Data said you wouldn't wear this unless we presented it with some kind of ceremony. This isn't like the limited-use comm-badges you and your friends were all issued two years ago. This one is fully integrated into the ship's comm-system. You have a unique position on the Enterprise, and you're going to need it."
"Lasso kind of warned me this was coming," I confessed. "He seemed surprised when he couldn't contact me directly."
"Well, now he can. Wear it well, Ms. Harris." His words were delivered with warmth and good humor.
"I'll do my best, Commander Riker," I said, matching his tone.
The remaining two packages were from the captain, and they were numbered. The first was a printed textbook, obviously antique, about seamanship and celestial navigation. I grinned, showing everyone, understanding that it was a reference to comments I'd made days earlier about feeling a little at sea. The second package made me cry, though, because it was the sextant I'd seen in his ready room. "You can't be seriously giving this to me?" I protested.
His response was to direct me to read the note – he was too private a man to speak them aloud – and to remind me, "Zoe, even at a birthday party, it's bad form to argue with the captain."
Smiling through my tears, I read his note about having something to help me find my way, then handed it to Data, so he could read it, also. Meeting the captain's eyes, I snarked gently, "You're totally going to quiz me on how to use it, aren't you, sir."
"Quite so," he agreed good naturedly.
"Thank you."
I caught the counselor's eye, then, and I could tell she'd either been told, or figured out, who had been helping me with the need to hit things that had begun nearly a year before. She nodded and flashed a smile. I had a feeling we'd be meeting for lunch, if not a formal counseling session, before the week was out.
"My gift for you is in two parts," Data said, after the room had settled a bit. "The second part is at home, in our quarters; it proved too difficult to giftwrap," he explained. "The first part is not tangible, but is the gift of a memory. When you suggested a sailboat as the setting for your party, I researched typical on-board celebrations, and learned that music is a common element."
"Please tell me this isn't going to be a sing-along?"
"It is not. I simply wished to present you with a song. Commander Riker," he glanced across the table to where Will was sitting. "There is a guitar on the shelf behind you. May I have it please, sir?"
The bearded man twisted in his seat and retrieved the instrument, which he handed to my boyfriend.
Data strummed it a few times, tweaked the tuning, and the strummed again. Apparently satisfied, he paused before beginning to play properly. "This song dates from the early twenty-first century, and was written and performed by an artist who used the stage name 'Sting.' While the lyrics would seem to refer to endings, I find that somewhat appropriate. After all, Zoe has ended her tenure as a minor, and as a traditional student. I believe, however, that this song is also about beginnings. And devotion. And eternity."
He began to play then, a syncopated waltz, and after a few measures he also began to sing, pitching his warm tenor voice at just the right level for the close interior of the boat's salon:
"If I caught the world in a bottle
And everything was still beneath the moon
Without your love would it shine for me?
If I was smart as Aristotle
And understood the rings around the moon
What would it all matter if you loved me?
Here in your arms where the world is impossibly still
With a million dreams to fulfill
And a matter of moments until the dancing ends
Here in your arms when everything seems to be clear
Not a solitary thing would I fear
Except when this moment comes near the dancing's end"
When the song ended, I touched Data's arm, intending only to thank him, but when our eyes met, instead of words, we shared a kiss, one that I wasn't entirely certain I'd initiated. It wasn't inappropriately long, and it wasn't like we were kissing in the middle of the bridge. (For that matter, I was wearing a bathing suit and a pareo, and he was in a chambray shirt and khaki trousers.) I could feel everyone watching us, but when we separated, the reaction we got was not at all what I expected.
Our friends – our family – were applauding.
I started laughing, while Data, briefly stunned, showed off his best smug expression, then turned back to me and said, "Happy birthday, Zoe."
The ship's bell rang midnight at that point, and our party began to break up. Dana and Ethan were the first to leave, with Josh and Mari departing right afterward. Robin was next, leaving abruptly when she received a notification of a call from the Academy (probably Wesley), and Ray caught me in a brotherly hug, claiming it was from Annette as well. (Knowing Annette, it probably had been.)
Commander Riker, Counselor Troi, Dr. Crusher, and the captain left together, and Geordi bailed as soon as we'd finished cleaning everything up, but not before I'd grabbed him in a hug that was almost as fierce as those I typically gave Data.
"Whoa, Zoe… what was that for?"
"I'm glad you're not dead," I said, referring to something that had happened while I'd still been on tour. "I never had a chance to tell you."
He seemed to get it, because he returned the embrace, then set me gently away. "Hey… confession?" I nodded, and he continued. "I'm glad I'm not dead, too." We both laughed, then, and he started up the steps to the cockpit, pausing to call back, "Hey, Zo'. You've got another present out here. It's on the bench."
"What?" I asked. And then I turned to Data. "I thought the cockpit was empty."
"It was," he said. He placed the leftover cake in a portable stasis unit, and gathered my gifts into a separate container. They would both be transported back to our quarters as soon as we ended the program we were in, as would Data's guitar.
Together, we exited the salon, and returned to the deck, where the almost full moon was no longer directly overhead, but still bright in the sky. The gift Geordi had mentioned was still on the corner of the portside bench in the cockpit. "Is it real?" I asked.
Data took a close look at the package. "It appears to be."
I sat down to open it, wondering if someone else from the Enterprise – Guinan, maybe, or Reg – had sent it. Whatever it was, the box had weight. Mass. Whatever. A cardboard box lid was removed to reveal layers of black tissue. Inside, there was a figure of a bird. A dove, I thought. I drew it out, and looked closer at it, feeling Data's presence at my side, his own curiosity nearly palpable.
The wings, feet, and head were articulating, and the entire piece was constructed of bits of metal that gave every impression of being left over from some industrial project. I turned it over and over in my hands, admiring the workmanship, but then I saw the note in the box. I handed the dove to Data, thinking, as I did so, that there was something 'off' about it. Doves represented peace and serenity, and nothing about that felt peaceful or serene.
I picked up the note. Cream paper. Good quality. Jet black ink. Not computer generated. Impressive. I unfolded it, and I read it, and I felt the cold rush of fear move through me, making my head swim.
I vaguely heard Data analyzing the bird. "The clockwork that allows the wings to expand and fold is quite ingenious," he was saying.
Fighting the urge to vomit, I looked into the face of the man I loved. "Get rid of it," I said.
"Zoe?"
"Get rid of it, please?"
"But it is a marvelous piece of machiner – "
I thrust the note into his face, and watched while he read and absorbed the unsigned message: You're really not a little girl any more. Happy eighteenth birthday, Pigeon. "Please, Data, get rid of it. Just get rid of it, and take me home." I was calm as I said it. Too calm? Maybe. He dropped onto the bench beside me, replacing the note in the box and then setting the bird on top of it, tapping his comm-badge with his other hand.
"This is Lieutenant Commander Data. Security detail to Holodeck Three, urgent," he ordered, his tone crisp and official. "Counselor Troi to Holodeck Three."
I heard the counselor's concerned response and the assurance that she was on her way, but I was still staring at the bird in the box. One of its shiny black eyes was staring up at me, empty, but somehow malevolent, also. Suddenly I knew exactly what I had to do. I picked up the bird, got to my feet, and hurled it over the side of the boat, smiling with grim satisfaction when I heard it splash into the dark water.
Counselor Troi, Lieutenant Worf, and two security officers I didn't recognize arrived on the scene before Data had could even ask why I did it.
"Commander Data," the burly Klingon greeted. "What happened?"
"Zoe, are you alright?" The counselor was focused on me.
"Computer, end program." Data, again.
The boat, and the ocean dissolved into nothing. The cake, the guitar and the pile of presents were near our feet, and in the farthest corner of the room the clockwork pigeon rolled onto its back, it's articulating feet clawing helplessly at the air.
The counselor drew me aside while Data spoke with Worf and his team. "Zoe, what happened?" she asked, placing her hand on my back and rubbing it in soothing circles.
"We were getting ready to leave, and Geordi mentioned that there was a box in the cockpit. I opened it and it was a clockwork bird with a note wishing me a happy birthday and calling me 'pigeon.' I'm pretty sure it's from Lore, and I'm pretty sure if you asked him, Data would agree with me. I didn't even really mean to throw it overboard; I just couldn't stand looking at it."
"You had to know that once the program ended the bird would still exist."
"I did," I said. "But I had to get it away from me. I was acting on instinct." I made a helpless gesture. "Hearing it splash was kind of satisfying."
She cracked a smile. "Yes, I'm sure it was." She took a beat, glancing over at Data and Worf, and then turning back to me. "Do you want to talk about it?"
I shook my head. "Not really. Not now. Maybe after I've had time to process?" She nodded. "I'm glad I opened the box right away, you know? Better here than in our quarters, anyway. I won't have to lose sleep wondering if Lore's in the closet waiting to jump out."
"There is that," she said diplomatically.
"It's late, and I'm tired. I want to go home – I mean, I want to see whatever else Data planned for me, but I also just… I want to be home. Do they need to talk to me, do you think?"
"Let's find out, shall we?" We walked back to where the others were standing. "Data, Worf, it's quite late, and Zoe's feeling a little shaken up. Do you need a statement from her?"
"I do not believe so. Commander Data explained that you were informed another box was waiting in the cockpit of your boat, when Commander LaForge was leaving, and that when you opened it you recognized the wording of the note as being from Lore." He said the other android's name with more than a little disgust in his tone.
"That is correct," Data said, at the same time that I answered, "Yes, sir."
"Commander Data has given me the note, and we have retrieved the bird from where you threw it. We will attempt to discover how it arrived and where it came from, but there does not appear to be an active threat to you or the ship."
"I concur," Data said.
Counselor Troi cut off whatever else my boyfriend was about to say. "That's good to hear. Zoe, Data, it sounds like this was just a disturbing prank. You two should return to quarters and salvage the rest of your celebration. I heard there was another present waiting." She was just on the edge of too cheerful.
"If you are certain I cannot be of service…" Data began, but a look from the counselor, combined with me slipping my hand into his, stopped him. "You will keep me informed of your findings?" He phrased it as a request, but his tone and the Klingon's curt nod made it obvious it was really an order.
"Of course, sir."
"Zoe, contact me when you're ready, alright?" the counselor reminded me gently. "My schedule is light for the next few days."
"I will," I said. "I promise." I knew she would believe me.
(=A=)
Stardate 46057.79
(Wednesday, January 22 2369, 02:17 ship's time)
The leftover cake and presents were waiting on our dining table when we got home, along with a bouquet of flowers from my father and Gia, and the gifts my mother had given into Data's care before she and Ed had left for Earth. I'd opened them at breakfast, with only my partner observing. It was less showy, that way.
Data's guitar had also been returned to our quarters. Thankfully, security had taken ownership of the bird; I hoped I'd never have to see it again.
Our actual walk from the holodeck to our quarters had been a silent one, and I dropped Data's hand as soon as the door had closed behind us. "I'm sorry," I said. "I shouldn't have grabbed your hand back there. I knew you were still in 'officer mode.'"
"You did nothing wrong, Zoe. I should have been more attentive. I did not even ask if you were alright after you realized the source of the pig – bird." He hesitated. "Was the counselor's presence helpful?"
"Only in that she had no compunctions about interrupting you and Lt. Worf, to ask if there was a reason to stick around. She asked me to come see her, but… she can't give me any answers this time, and a package is nothing compared to everything else I've survived. I'm a little creeped out. I'm a little bit angry. I'm a lot afraid. But I'm also certain that being here with you is probably the safest place I can be, and I refuse to let a stupid clockwork bird ruin my life."
His head tilt nearly made me grin. "You have come a long way since last year," Data observed. "You are stronger, and more confident."
That did make me smile. "If I am, it's because I had a lot of help becoming so. But you've changed a lot, too… it's just more difficult to define exactly how. If I had to, I'd say you felt content… At least that's how it seems."
"I would say 'complete,'" he corrected. "Or, as complete as I am capable of being."
I picked up the guitar, then put it down. "Complete?"
"Yes." He headed for the bedroom, and I followed, noting that the lights in the main room had gone out as soon as I was through the door. "Your presence in my life, our relationship… I feel as though I am somehow… complete."
"And yet you chose a song about endings."
"It is also a song about eternity," he reminded me.
I leaned up for a quick kiss, then walked into the bathroom intending to relieve myself and then splash water on my face in preparation for bed. Inside, I froze. "Data…"
"Yes, Zoe?" he came to stand in the doorway.
"Our bathroom has been enlarged."
"Yes, Zoe." Repeating words or phrases in different inflections was becoming one of his favorite games with me.
"We have a bathtub."
"Yes, Zoe; we do."
"Why? How…? Oh my god! You said it couldn't be giftwrapped. This is my present? You requisitioned a bathtub? But you don't even take baths."
"But you do, and you have grumbled about the lack of one, more than once. Would you care to take a bath before bed?"
"Care to? Yes. But I'm way too tired." I goggled at it some more, then turned around, stood on tiptoes, and kissed him. "You got me a bathtub."
The smile that made his lips curve up at the corners was almost better than the tub.
I pushed him out of the bathroom, did what I had to do, and padded, nude, back to our bed. Data was waiting for me, but while there were several padds on his side of the bed, he didn't have the optical cable ready to connect to his head.
Snuggling against his chest, I thanked him for the party. "I should be asking you how much of a target you think I am," I said. "I should be panicking about him being nearby. But I refuse to panic, and the rest… the rest I'd like to table for eight or ten hours."
"That is an acceptable plan," Data said. He extinguished the lights, and I felt Spot jump onto the bed as soon as she could do so in secret – that was her latest behavior quirk – but even though I was tired, I wasn't ready for sleep.
"You said that song was about eternity?"
"Yes."
"At my mother's wedding… you mentioned eternity then, as well."
"I did," he said softly. I felt his long, cool fingers wandering over my skin.
"Your eternity and my eternity are kind of disparate. When we use words like that… like 'forever,' I always assume you mean my forever, not your own."
"Why?"
"Anything more seems greedy," I said, joking just a little. "More than that… anything more seems… I can't wrap my brain around it."
"You do not need to 'wrap your brain around' anything right now. I am here. I am eternally devoted to you. And I will not allow Lore to harm you again."
I answered him the only way I could. "I love you." I was silent for a long moment after that, almost drifting to sleep, but then I roused myself enough to ask, "Would you sing that song for me again?"
Data shifted slightly in the bed, and I shifted with him, settling into a more comfortable position. Holding me close, he sang me to sleep, altering the words slightly to fit himself.
"One day I met a stranger
And all the noise was silenced in the room
I felt I was close to some mystery
In the moonlight and everything shatters
I felt as though I'd known her all my life
The world's oldest lesson in history
Here in your arms where the world is impossibly still
With a million dreams to fulfill
And a matter of moments until the dancing ends
Here in your arms when everything seems to be clear
Not a solitary thing do I fear
Except when this moment comes near the dancing's end
Oh, if I caught the world in an hourglass
Saddled up the moon and we would ride
Until the stars grew dim
Until the time that time stands still, Until..."
Notes: Varuna is the name of the 26' sailboat Tania Aebi used to circumnavigate the Earth, solo, in 1985-87. Her memoir of the trip, Maiden Voyage is a perennial favorite of mine. (Varuna is also the Hindu god of water and the celestial ocean, as well as the god of law in the underworld.) The Intrepid's name is courtesy of Javanyet. S/V simply designates a non-commercial, non-military surface vessel as a Sailing Vessel.
As to the bathtub, if Troi can have one, Data should be able to ask for one now that Zoe lives with him. He outranks her, after all. The song Data sings to Zoe is "Until," by Sting, from the movie Kate & Leopold (it runs under the credits). There's an acoustic solo version available on YouTube. Zoe's mother decides to leave the Enterprise in the one-shot A Mother Knows, and talks to Zoe about it in the last chapter of Unaccompanied: A Suite for Actress & Android. The conversation about eternity happens in chapter 4 of the same story. Data muses about achieving completion in the one-shot Completion.
Spans the episode "Realm of Fear," but only references it obliquely.
Special thanks to wintermute75, ReLive4Love, and Selena.t.