Data and his crewmates had managed to peacefully part with the crystalline being without causing any harm to either party. This had been a week ago. Lore had been aboard the USS Enterprise for two weeks now, and everyone was still on pins and needles around him. For good reason, too. The only times he had come out of his allotted quarters had been to lurk around the mess hall at inopportune hours, determined to be a problem. His altercation with Picard seemed to have made him realize he really couldn't hurt the crew, so he would do his best (or his worst) to make the most trouble he could and hopefully get himself kicked out.

This trouble usually consisted of antagonizing different crew members who passed through the mess hall, his favorite being Worf. Worf could keep a cool head for a decent amount of time, but Lore knew how to hit where it hurt: a Klingon's pride was a very volatile thing.

Currently, Worf was sitting in a stool at the bar, trying to eat his replicator food as quickly as he could, hoping beyond hope that Lore would not find him. Of course, hoping can only get you so far.

"Ah, Borf!" Lore exclaimed, greeting Worf as if they were old friends, and sitting in the stool directly adjacent. He had started calling Worf "Borf" a few days ago, and the Klingon had made the mistake of letting Lore see how much it aggravated him.

Worf pushed down a frustrated growl that was attempting to come out of his mouth.

"Lore," he replied, voice neutral and aloof. He didn't bother turning to look at the android, and instead continued eating his rokeg blood pie.

"You eat sloppier than a feral Ferengi," Lore observed, resting his chin on his hand.

Worf huffed.

"You've already used that one," he said. Lore could get very creative with his insults, and it was very rare to see him reuse one.

"Mmmm, that may be so," Lore said noncommittally. He swept out his arm, too fast for Worf to even realize what was happening, and knocked Worf's pie into his lap.

It took Worf a monumental effort not to roar and grab Lore by the throat. He stared straight ahead and said nothing, fearing he would not be able to control himself if he were to open his mouth. He could see Lore looking at him with an expression of barely disguised glee on his face. The few other people in the mess hall were glancing at them curiously.

"Are you alright, Borf?" Lore wheedled, fake concern coating his voice.

Worf's breathing was audible. When Worf didn't reply, Lore lazily reached a hand out to grasp his bloodwine.

Worf grabbed the android by the wrist before he could reach his goal.

"Don't you dare," he snarled in warning.

Lore smiled up at him innocently. While Worf was distracted with his trapped hand, he swiped the other one out and knocked the Klingon's bloodwine onto the floor. The shattering of the glass was overshadowed by Worf's roar as he shot up from his seat and dragged Lore from his own.

By then, everyone else in the sparse mess hall had turned their full attention to Lore and Worf. Lore's face had broken out into a malicious grin and he kept his eyes locked with Worf. With relative ease, he twisted his wrist out of Worf's grip and continued to stand in front of the Lieutenant Commander. Worf towered over Lore, but he was unbothered. What Lore may lack in height, he made up for in pure strength and intellect.

Worf made a swing for Lore but he sidestepped. The Klingon made another move that was easily avoided. A series of punches and grabs went on for several moments, Worf becoming more and more enraged with every missed hit. Lore could do this all day without tiring in the slightest.

Suddenly, Lore felt his hands hit something cold. The counter top. He had been backed into a corner, and he could not escape. This was when he began to feel a bit panicked; Worf would not be able to cause him any pain, but he really did not want to have to reattach any limbs.

"Oh, Worf, would you really hit someone who cannot defend themselves? Where is the honor in that?" Lore petitioned, preparing for whatever would come.

"You aren't worthy of my honor," Worf spat, and punched Lore square in the jaw.

Lore's head wrenched to the side and he felt something break. He gaped at Worf with a crooked mouth, truly not having expected that.

"Alright, Lieutenant Commander, I think that's enough."

Worf turned to see a woman clothed in purple looking up at him. He felt slightly bashful at her reprimand.

"My apologies, Guinan. I let my rage get the best of me," Worf said. Guinan smirked.

"Oh no, Lore definitely had it coming," she replied. "But I think you should give him a bit of a break to get himself fixed up."

She surveyed the room and the crowd of people who had watched the fight dissipated.

"You two have made a mess of my bar," she said pleasantly. Lore and Worf looked around and saw that they really had made quite the mess: broken glass was scattered across the floor, remnants of Worf's pie were smeared everywhere, and several chairs had been knocked over. Lore did not feel particularly remorseful about the situation, but he could tell from Worf's body language that Guinan was not someone to be underestimated.

"Lore, you go get yourself fixed up by Dr. Crusher," she said, making her way to the other side of the bar. "Worf, you get to stay and help me clean up this mess."

"Ah, I'm not sure that's a great idea, ma'am," Lore said sheepishly, his speech impaired by his off kilter jaw. Worf looked at him in shock; he had never seen Lore be this civil.

"I'm afraid Dr. Crusher and I have a bit of… history."

Guinan considered this for a second and then shrugged.

"Fine by me! I'll patch you up myself and then you can help Worf clean," she said, leaving absolutely no room for argument. She handed Worf a broom and sat down in one of the stools, beckoning Lore to her. He was already greatly regretting not going to medbay.

She patted the stool across from her and he sat down.

"I don't see how you'll be able to fix this," he said skeptically. Guinan just smiled at him and reached for his face. He leaned back reflexively.

"Oh sit still, squirmy," she admonished. He scowled at her. Well, he tried to scowl, but the effect was sort of lost with his face in the state it was. He allowed her to take his face into her hands and feel around his jaw.

With no warning, she jerked his jaw back into place. Worf winced imperceptibly at the horrible screeching sound it made. He hadn't realized he'd hit Lore that hard.

Lore lifted a hand to his face and wiggled his jaw. It was a little loose, but nothing he couldn't fix later.

"Thanks," he said. Guinan rolled her eyes.

"No need to throw yourself at my feet in gratitude," she replied dryly, standing up and dusting off her hands. Lore remained in his stool, still working his jaw.

Something cold and wet slapped him between his shoulder blades and involuntary shivers went down his circuits. He craned his neck and reached behind his head to grab the soaked rag that Guinan had tossed at him. He looked at her with his brow raised, cloth in hand.

"What do you want me to do with this?" he questioned, the tips of his sleeves getting damp. She rolled her eyes.

"You're smart, figure it out," she answered, whipping around to reorganize liquor bottles.

Lore felt a slight pang of pride. He knew that couldn't really be considered a compliment, but it was the first semblance of a compliment he had gotten in quite awhile. He was starting to really like Guinan.