Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,

Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel – William Shakespeare

His baby was cradled in the hold of the cargo bay. The Jellyfish – the fastest, most innovative ship anyone in the Federation had ever seen. Hell, it was the fastest ship that anyone had ever seen – sleek and sexy, she flew with the suppleness of an organic sea creature rippling through the ocean too fast for the naked eye to see.

Naked eye. That was one of those expressions that tended to give people pause, back when he still wore the visor. Like see you later. Or wait and see. And then the caught breath, the flush of heat in the face, the rapid hiccup in the heartbeat as the speaker worried that offence had been given. A quick joke usually set the person at ease. It was hard for anyone to fathom that Geordi could see, just not like anyone else did. More, not better. Different. The implants had lessened the appearance of his difference, but by the time he'd had the surgery, his reputation was already such that people knew the Enterprise's chief engineer was blind.

The Enterprise. Hopefully he'd catch a glimpse of her in orbit before he landed. Now that had been his baby. Not so much the NCC 1701-E that would be carrying two of his dearest friends to Vulcan. But the D – that had been his love, his playground, his balky, willful child. He still had never completely forgiven Deanna for being at the helm when the wounded ship had crashed on Veridian III. When he thought of the hours and hours and days and days and years and years he'd spent crawling in her belly, listening to the thrumming of her warp core heartbeat, delving in her inner workings to make her faster, more efficient, smarter, and better, until Leah had wanted to strangle him for meddling with her baby. Until the ship achieved consciousness and produced her own child. When that ship went down, a piece of him had gone with her. Some of the most exciting years of his life had been spent there. Oh, the adventures they'd had together…

With the friends that had made the journey so meaningful. It had been too long since Geordi had seen Data and Picard. Those days of vaulting into the unknown to see what was out there were in the past now for the ambassador and himself. It was the natural progression for Picard's unmatched diplomatic skills – so much better than winding up trapped behind a desk pushing pieces on a chess board while the younger men and women risked their lives.

And Data, captain of the Enterprise. A fitting job for his bosom friend. When the cyberneticists at the Daystrom Institute had successfully imprinted his neural nets onto B-4, they were all overjoyed to have their beloved android back. But with his rebirth came certain, subtle changes. Data eschewed use of the emotion chip he'd left behind before that fateful jump to the Scimitar. It was as if dying and coming back to life had somehow fulfilled his lifelong quest to become more human. He'd experienced almost everything that humanity had to offer, and Data seemed more at peace with himself. More willing to accept his unique existence – limited in some ways, expanded in others. Maybe it was the aging of his friends around him that made him reluctant to take up the emotions his father had designed for him. Their aging was a reminder of their inevitable mortality. Geordi could hardly believe how the years had flown – when he saw Capt. Riker now, his beard fully grey, and Deanna, still radiating beauty and dignity from a more mature face, in video transmissions from the Titan, it hit home how much older they all were. Still, every reunion brought reminiscences of their heyday on the Enterprise. Geordi looked forward to sitting down with Picard and Data, hopefully with some good food and wine, and filling up the wee hours with remember when….

There were things Geordi remembered. When Data came to retrieve Spot from her new owner Worf, and the way the big Klingon softie tried to pretend he couldn't wait to get rid of "that orange, hissing thing." Yeah, right. So much so that he held her for a last cuddle before handing her over, while she tried to sink her claws into him and hang on.

Worf. A general for the Klingon Empire now. He was another one who had finally settled into his destiny after searching for years, reconciling his Federation upbringing with his Klingon heritage. And he was another who had found the strength to overcome his grief and move on. Geordi had been so sorry to hear when Worf had lost his Trill mate. And at a point when love was finally in the stars for himself. He'd watched and waited for his chance with Leah. He never wished her any misfortune, but he'd always known they were meant to be together. And when she split from her husband, and their friendship had finally deepened to something more, Geordi didn't have to wait any longer.

He sighed. He missed his wife and kids. His life as a designer afforded him time to be with them, time he never would've had if he'd remained in Starfleet. One sacrifice in exchange for so many blessings. And they all knew about sacrifice….

It was painful to think back on that long period between Data's sacrifice to save the Enterprise and all his friends, and his rebirth in the frame of B-4. The pain of it had been too much to bear at the time. Geordi had thrown himself into his work, refusing to take grief leave, afraid of what would happen if he stopped long enough to come to grips with the loss of his best friend. Packing up Data's quarters was a duty he'd taken on before, but this time seemed to be the impossible end; this time had come after their friendship had spanned nearly two decades and was a deep, roots-down part of him. All of those objects that had survived the crash of the 1701-D and the battles they'd been through, when their owner was scattered to the stars… Geordi had never believed that Data was gone forever. His belief had proved right in the long run, but those dark months had brought him pain, worse than any other friend he'd lost. Almost as bad as the pain of losing his mother; he'd held out hope beyond hope that the Hera would someday be found, until he finally admitted that he was just delaying the grieving process and hurting himself by denying the truth. Worse than the shock of losing Tasha – so long ago, yet her memory would never leave him. She was one of the few people he'd ever seen with naked eyes; he'd never forget her lovely face.

He hadn't been the only one who would never forget. He smiled as he thought of Data's return to the Enterprise as first officer, and after the celebration, the private reunion of two friends who had literally gone to the end of the universe and back together. Data had asked him in the polite, deferential way that was so familiar, and had been so missed, "Was it you who returned my belongings to my quarters?"

"Yeah, Data."

"I thank you. There was a time when I did not understand the value of things for the memories they evoke, but that was long ago." Data picked up and turned over his violin, and replaced it in its cloth-lined case. "There is an object you have not returned, as a joke, I believe."

Geordi smiled. Even without the emotion chip, Data's grasp of humor had not reverted to zero. "You got me. I was waiting for you to ask."

Their quarters were located close together, just as they'd been on the 1701-D. Geordi soon returned with the six-sided clear hologram projector and presented it to his friend. "Mind if I…?" Geordi let the question trail off. Data nodded. The engineer pressed the button, and their fair, slender friend smiled out at them, frozen in time, forever young, much like Data himself.

Geordi put an arm around Data's shoulder. "I'm glad to have you back, old friend."

"I am glad to be back," Data replied, the discomfort that the sentence might have brought many years ago no longer an issue. Even without the emotion chip, the android understood what it meant to be glad.

It was a good memory. And now he was warping to see Captain Data and Ambassador Picard for one more foray into the world of adventure.

"La Forge to the helm – try to get us a look at the Enterprise before we hit the landing site, if you can."

"Aye, sir."

Old friends. Geordi settled back in his chair. He could overcome any obstacle, face any danger, if he faced it with them.