Disclaimer: Paramount/CBS owns everything from canon; I own the rest. Reviews and chocolate are welcome (I prefer the latter to be dark).

Continuity Note: This piece comes immediately after chapter 5 (Song for a Winter's Night, Part IV) of For Auld Lang Syne, and immediately before chapter 14 of Crush II: Ostinato.

Intentions

The young android was clearly troubled by her experiences. "I watch them," she told her father, "and I can do the things they do, but I will never feel the emotions. I'll never know love."

"It is a limitation we must learn to accept, Lal," he responded.

"Then why do you still try to emulate humans? What purpose does it serve except to remind you that you are incomplete?"

Data's answer to his daughter was completely candid. "I have asked myself that many times as I have struggled to be more human, until I realized it is the struggle itself that is most important. We must strive to be more than we are, Lal. It does not matter that we will never reach our ultimate goal. The effort yields its own rewards."

Lal appeared to process his statement. "You are wise, Father."

"It is the difference," Data told his daughter, "between knowledge and experience."

From Star Trek: The Next Generation, "The Offspring"

(=A=)

Stardate 45001.22

(Monday, 1 January 2368, 10:44 AM, ship's time)

Aboard the U.S.S. Descartes

There are seven words that every father speaks, and every suitor fears: What are your intentions toward my daughter?

Data reflects upon those words as his shuttle, the Descartes, leaves Centauran space and moves into the designated flight path that is both analogous to and completely unlike the oceanic shipping lanes on any number of worlds. After all, the sheer enormity of space means that two ships on parallel paths, leaving the same origin point and converging on an identical destination, may never see – or even hear from – each other.

He has, he realizes with something of a start, now achieved the human norm (as applies to a theoretical heterosexual male) of being on both the giving and receiving end of those words.

He is not certain which he prefers.

As a father, during his too-brief time with his daughter, Data directed that question toward Commander Riker, upon entering Ten-Forward to find him being hoisted into the air on the receiving end of a rather ardent kiss. As Zoe had surmised when he related the incident to her, it had been distressing for him. It had been confusing for both the commander and Lal.

Especially for Lal.

Data had not anticipated engaging in the coming-of-age ritual often referred to as "The Talk" quite so early in Lal's life. He had not, he grudgingly admits to himself, expected her to remain sexually innocent forever, but surely she could have given him a year or two of relative peace before experimenting?

His daughter, he remembered, had not connected her actions with any other sexual programming.

"Guinan explained that kissing was a sign of affection and attraction," she had told him. "Based on typical humanoid patterns of attraction, Commander Riker is an excellent representative of a desirable human phenotype."

"That may be true, Lal. However, it is not considered polite to kiss people with whom one does not have an existing close relationship."

"But I enjoyed it, Father," she had replied, a plaintive note in her voice, and he had disliked having to steal away her innocence so soon.

"I am certain that you did, Lal," he had said. "Nevertheless, I must ask that you refrain from kissing others without an established friendship first." He had paused. "Perhaps it would be wiser if you asked for permission the next time you wish to express attraction or affection in that fashion."

"I will ask permission next time," she agreed.

Something in the way she said it had left him slightly uneasy. As if 'next time' might come too soon.

"As well, I must request that you not hoist people into the air without their express permission," he had added after a few micro-seconds' thought.

"Yes, Father. I understand."

He is positive that she had not understood.

He regrets that there had been no time for her to grow into that understanding.

(=A=)

He was watching Zoe surf when he experienced the other side of those seven words. Once a father attempting to protect his daughter, he had become a suitor seeking approval.

Half an hour after Zoe has set him up in one of two beach chairs they brought with them, the Maestro (as Data continues to think of him) arrived and dropped into the unused chair. "Are you enjoying your stay?" he asked.

Data chose not to explain that he could not, technically, enjoy anything. "It has been an illuminating experience, seeing the place Zoe considers to be 'home.' She seems much…freer…here than she does on the Enterprise."

The Maestro chuckles softly. "She's on vacation," he explains, "and she's enjoying introducing her boyfriend to everyone." There was a note in the man's voice that was remarkably similar to the lilt in Zoe's voice when she was teasing him.

He did not share that he was finding the experience of being introduced that way - as Zoe's boyfriend, as part of her family - to be more than a little pleasant. Instead he offered his girlfriend's father the same words he offered her mother, almost a year before. "Are you familiar, sir, with the phenomenon of meeting someone for the first time, but developing a rapport so quickly that it is like that person had always been part of your life?"

"As if you've known them forever?" Zach asked him.

"Precisely, sir. That…feeling…is an adequate descriptor of my initial affinity for Zoe."

"There's a big difference between an 'affinity' and a romantic relationship."

For once, Data believed, the inability to feel embarrassment was a boon. "There is. Over the past three months and twenty-nine days," he left off the hours, minutes, and seconds, "the friendship that I would previously have categorized as 'warm' has grown exponentially. For many weeks we both chose to avoid labeling what we had become, but the connection between us is undeniable. We are dating. We are a couple. Zoe is…my girlfriend."

They were both distracted by a cry from the water. Zoe and one of the other surfers had disappeared from view. For a moment, Data considered racing into the surf to help, but he noticed that the safety-riders on their jet skis did not appear to be alarmed. Ninety-seven seconds elapsed before he saw Zoe surface and reclaim her surfboard. Another five seconds later, the other surfer also bobbed upward.

"Not cool!" he heard Zoe yell. The phrase super android hearing ran through his brain. The Maestro, he realized, was aware of only the crashing surf.

"I have to be honest, Data," the Maestro began again, once it was clear that his daughter was fine. "You're not the man I pictured my daughter with." He chuckled softly. "Of course, in most of my visions, Zoe isn't serious about anyone until she's forty-five. She was concerned I'd have an issue with your disparate ages, or the fact that you're an android."

He was truly surprised to learn that neither of those were 'issues' for the older man. "May I ask, then, what does give you pause, sir?"

"You're a career Starfleet officer," Zach explained. "While your role as an authority figure concerns me, Zoe has explained that she is no longer your student, and that civilians and officers frequently mix socially on your ship. But the fact remains that you're a line officer on the flagship, and that is a position with more than a little risk attached, and more than a little notoriety." He paused then added, "Zoe is in love with you; you recognize that, don't you?"

Data had refrained from pointing out that Zoe had never explicitly used the word 'love.' He suspected then - and still suspects - that she is holding that word back for reasons of her own, and he understands this to be a topic he must broach with her, and only her. "Zoe says that we 'fit' together. That a sign our relationship is solid is that we are comfortable being with each other in silence, as well as when we are interacting."

"And you? What do you say?"

He delayed his response as Zoe caught a textbook-perfect wave and rode it nearly to shore. Zach Harris, too, was focused on his daughter. Once she began splashing ashore, Data answered the question put to him, albeit in a lower voice.

"In the time that I have known Zoe, my neural pathways have expanded by two point zero four nine percent," he said, "and new pathways are continuing to develop. Many of our friends have observed that we appear to be 'good for each other,' and I concur. However, I am also very aware that Zoe is approaching a crossroads in her life."

The Maestro seemed to understand that Data was not finished speaking. He simply made a gesture which clearly indicated that the android should continue.

"Even if she chooses to remain on the Enterprise for her summer break, she will eventually leave to pursue her post-secondary education. As well, it is possible - even likely - that I will eventually be transferred to another ship. While even I cannot predict every possible outcome of our relationship, it does not take an android to recognize that there are difficult choices in our future."

"You speak as though your relationship is already permanent." Zachary Harris had lowered his voice as well, he noticed. The musician smiled softly. "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me." He made a gesture and a face that imply an either-or situation. "Maybe I'm wrong, though. Either way…Data, Zoe is young, but she knows her own mind. If she's chosen you…" He laughed again. "It may be cliché to ask, but what are your intentions toward her?"

Data was silent, watching the wetsuit-clad young woman slowly approaching. "I do not know if we are meant to be together permanently," he answered carefully. "I believe that we may be, but I am also cognizant that this evolution of our relationship is new, and that it would be premature to make plans beyond the next few weeks. Right now, I want to continue my relationship with Zoe, exploring possibilities and deepening our connection."

"For how long?"

His answer was simple, honest, and uttered just before Zoe arrived and collapsed in a happy, wet, exhausted heap on the blanket. "For as long as she wishes."

(=A=)

He busies himself with many concurrent activities, all the while, drafting a letter to Zoe. He understands that she is uncertain about 'how to be' on the Enterprise, and he recognizes that her worry is not solely about any code of conduct, but also a manifestation of her fear that their open presentation of themselves as a couple was only a holiday affectation.

Finally, after reviewing the mission briefings that had been sent to him, as well as supplementary material on the current state of Klingon and Romulan politics, economy, and culture, also attempting to determine the last known location of his brother, analyzing the list of suggested audition pieces Zoe had been provided, creating an algorithm that would make intentional variation of shield and weapon harmonic frequencies much easier to control while also much more difficult to counter, developing a series of formal dance instruction sessions (both to further his own skillset, and as a new activity with Zoe) – he believes twelve parts would be an acceptable number – making minor course corrections, researching new training techniques for Spot, and completing a requisition form for a slightly larger, more comfortable couch in his quarters, as well as upgrading the standard issue bed to one of the larger models approved for senior officers, and discarding seventeen drafts that he deemed to be unacceptable, he has composed something he is willing to have her read.

It begins with the two words he had used in his leave-taking: My Zoe.

It includes several bullet points that, he realizes, are a sort of manifesto of his intentions for the immediate future:

- That he will miss her presence over the next eleven days (approximately – he is unable to estimate further without knowing the time of her departure from Centaurus).

- That she should not be concerned that the physical intimacies they had begun exploring were in any way one-sided, because he derives his own form of satisfaction from their shared kisses, their interlaced digits, her presence in his arms.

- That their new status as a couple is not a mere 'vacation flinglet' (she had explained it couldn't be a full-fledged fling without sex), but would continue 'at home' on the Enterprise.

Once the body of his letter – created as text-only due to distance and the shuttle's limited communications array – is complete, he has an inner debate about an appropriate closing. Her missives, of late, have ended with 'Love, Zoe,' and he wishes for something equal in tone if not emotion.

He considers – and discards – common options such as 'sincerely' and 'regards,' as they are better suited to professional correspondence than what is, in essence, his first 'love letter.'

Perhaps, he considers, his closing should balance his opening. If she is 'his Zoe,' than what must he be to her?

With a slight smile curving his lips upward, he ends the letter with two more words: Yours, Data, and instructs the computer to transmit the file.

Notes: Opening text incorporates dialogue from the episode, "The Offspring." The first flashback is an invented scene that takes place during that episode (sometime in 2366). The second flashback takes place on New Year's Eve, 2367 – or the day before the 'present' part of the chapter, and reflects the full conversation that Data had with Zoe's father while they watched her surf.