A/N: Thank you for your patience. This is a difficult headspace to write in.
The holiday arc is coming to an end and Data & Tasha will be back aboard the Enterprise soon. But that doesn't mean this story is over – there is more to Lore's backstory to uncover, and he still has a few tricks up his sleeve.
C/W: Contains abusive behaviour, smut, and dub con/rape. Will contain Data/Tasha fluff. Lore is a master of manipulation.
This is a fic in which Lore (still his loveably flawed, chaotic self) plays the long con before showing his true colours. Also, Lore and Data have significantly greater capacity to feel than canon suggests.
Omicron Theta Colony | 2335
"Hurry up," Lucy said. "Or you'll miss it!"
"I must confess that I am not entirely comfortable keeping this from mother and father," Data whispered.
Lucy stopped and turned back to Data.
She smiled and shook her head.
"That's what I love about you," she chuckled. "You're too sweet."
You're too sweet! Lore thought as he rolled his eyes.
From his position by the window in his bedroom, Lore could see them sneaking out. A part of him was desperate to go tattle to Juliana and Noonian.
But Lore knew it would do no good.
They would probably just blame Lore for telling on his brother.
So Lore sat alone in silence as he watched his brother sneak off to meet Lucy.
Tonight the Alcyone meteor shower would be visible. It was an annual event that grew more brilliant with each passing year.
Before he went away, it was a tradition Lore and Lucy had shared.
Alone.
It seemed in Lore's absence, his bedroom wasn't the only place Data had moved in to supplant him.
Lore watched with disgust as Lucy looped her arm through Data's. She rested her head against his shoulder as they crept off out into the night air.
When they reached the top of the hill, Lucy and Data spread out a blanket. She plopped down on the surface while Data sat down carefully next to her.
Data sat perfectly motionless as he watched the sky with eager anticipation.
"Because of the lower temperatures, there is less haze tonight," Data said. "It means we will have optimal viewing of the meteor shower which should start any moment."
"Data, would you like some of this?" Lucy asked.
Data turned his eyes away from the sky and was surprised to see Lucy offering him a fresh apple she had picked on her way to the Soong homestead.
Data blinked in confusion.
"It's not poison," Lucy teased.
"Poisons designed to harm humanoids would have no such effect on my functionality," Data replied.
"So try it," Lucy said, pushing it into his hands.
Data frowned.
"I have no biological need to consume sustenance," Data protested.
"But you can," Lucy insisted.
Data took a small, timid bite of the fruit. All of their androids were designed with the capacity to consume food and drink. Their internal system was capable of breaking down the substances and recycling it within the android body.
But unlike Lore and his voracious appetite to sample any and every new food he came across, Noonian had tweaked Data's design.
His synaptic pathways didn't function quite the same. His sense of taste and the experience of physical sensations like salty or savoury flavours didn't spark the same response.
Data could still find pleasure from a fresh, sweet strawberry.
But he didn't share Lore's need for it.
"It is…. flavourful," Data settled on.
"You're not like your brother," Lucy remarked.
Data's face fell.
No, he wasn't like Lore. And he knew that.
Lucy had missed Lore terribly during his absence. In Lucy's mind, Lore had left. And while that hurt, Lucy had come to terms with it. Lore had something inside him, an urge to constantly seek out new adventures for the high of achievement and the thrill of doing something forbidden.
He was a free spirit.
Data shared a natural sense of curiosity. But Data had a different quality about him, an ineffable sense of reliability. Stable. Dependable.
Safe.
Lore was like a bird that would come and go as it pleased. Data was like a dog – loyal to a fault.
During Lore's absence, she had befriended Data. He was similar to his brother, but certainly his own person.
And Lore had changed ever since his return to Omicron Theta. He'd grown withdrawn, bitter.
"It's not a bad thing," Lucy assured him with a smile.
The Alcyone meteor shower had been splendid. The brilliant light show had lasted for nearly four hours.
By the time Data had walked Lucy home and returned across the field, it was past 03:00.
As he strolled up the dirt lane to the Soong homestead, Data spied a light on in the distance.
And someone waiting in the doorway.
The natural lubrication system that kept his mouth moist and sanitised temporarily ceased production. There was a sense of panic that crept into Data's chest.
Is this shame? Data pondered.
"Have a good time?" Noonian asked.
He was leaning against the doorframe. His arms folded as he eyed his boy with a cross look.
Data didn't know what to say in response.
"You just don't comprehend the word no, do you?" Noonian went on. "Or rather, is it that you do understand and find this all amusing?"
Data kept silent.
"So you are stupid or malicious?" Noonian pressed. "Well, which is it boy?"
"Father, I apologise for leaving without informing you of my absence," Data stated.
Noonian chuckled and shook his head.
"Very clever," Noonian remarked as he wagged his finger at his son. "Eight out of ten. Nice try."
"Father, I do not understand," Data confessed.
"I'm not sure if I should even care that you came back," Noonian barked. "More trouble than you're worth. Next time you stalk off, why don't you just stay gone?"
Data was completely taken aback.
"Father, I have always returned," Data protested, confused.
In retrospect, he perhaps should have left a note explaining his absence. But Data did not anticipate such a strong response.
He made frequent trips into town or to the neighbouring farms for classes, errands for his parents, and to escort B-4 to and from activities. He always returned.
Data's face fell. He took a few shaky steps backward.
"Oh go on," Noonian scoffed. "Let's see your little performance."
Data's hands were trembling. He felt like his entire world was coming apart.
"Won't do you a bit of good. Your mother's asleep," Noonian spat.
Just then, there was a slow applause. Noonian whipped around to see Lore saunter down the staircase. Lore took no small sense of satisfaction in watching his father's eyes go wide with horror.
He'd waited patiently at the top of the stairs for just the right moment to strike.
"Often Wrong's got a broken heart. Can't even tell his boys apart," Lore smirked.
"You stay out of this," Noonian warned.
Lore stepped into the kitchen and snagged a bottle of ale from the cold storage shelf.
"You've really outdone yourself. I mean you ruined one son with that attitude," Lore said.
He took his time removing the cap.
"Shoddy work on B-4. That was all your doing. And just look how he's turned out," Lore went on.
He tossed the cap into the bin and turned back with a satisfied smirk.
"Now Data too? Well done, old boy," Lore said, raising his drink to his father.
Noonian didn't have time for Lore shenanigans.
"Data," he said, turning back around.
But Data was gone.
"Data? Data?" Noonian shouted.
Present
"Get a move on or we'll be late!" Tasha said as she emerged from the bedroom.
Data was bustling about the kitchen in preparation for the journey down the mountain. He was just filling a thermos with hot tea when he paused and looked up to take in Tasha's appearance.
"What?" she asked, stopping just shy of the door.
Tasha looked down at her feet, then back up to Data, and bit her lip.
"I can-" she started to say.
"Don't," Data said quickly, anticipating her offer to change.
Tasha wasn't entirely convinced.
The storm had passed. And in its wake, the temperatures had dropped. A bitter cold had settled in the air – the coldest temperatures Data and Tasha had encountered by far.
Even the locals had warned that it was dangerously cold.
But there was nothing that could keep Data and Tasha from venturing down the mountain for the local solstice festival.
So Tasha had opted to layer several pairs of her thickest socks. She had on two pairs of Starfleet-issued cold weather leggings. She'd barely been able to stuff her feet into her boots.
In addition, she was wearing a Starfleet cold weather rated undershirt, a thick flannel button up, and the ugliest oversized jumper she owned.
"I'm going to wear a coat over it," Tasha said.
Such large, insulated coats were typically only used for research missions on artic planets. Data had packed them just in case.
"You look adorable," Data commented.
"Oh," Tasha replied, blushing.
Data sealed the thermos shut and added it to his pack.
"Come," he said, taking Tasha's arm.
Data wasn't as heavily impacted by extreme temperatures. Though the cold could be described as uncomfortable. It was cold enough that long exposure would slow his processing capacity.
So Data had opted to don a standard-issue general cold weather jumpsuit.
It provided significantly less protection than the thermal-rated coat but did not sacrifice movement or flexibility.
Data could see the contrast in their choices as they began to trek down the path to the village. Burdened by such a cumbersome garment, Tasha was struggling to move the way she normally did.
"What?" Tasha asked as she glanced up at Data.
"You are walking like an Aptenodytes," Data said.
Tasha shrugged. She'd never heard of it.
"An aquatic, flightless bird found in the southern hemisphere of Earth," Data explained.
"Data, I'm not from Earth," Tasha reminded him.
Such cultural references were lost on Tasha.
"A penguin," Data clarified.
He smiled as Tasha playfully smacked his stomach.
"Is he dead?" Picard demanded.
"I don't know," Lieutenant Brody replied.
She scooped Livingston out of the tank using a long fish net and immediately transferred him to a container with clean water for safe transport.
"I need to check the fish and this tank," she explained.
She then whipped out a tricorder and scanned Livingston for any sign of life.
"He's alive," she reported. "But he's not doing well."
"Will he make it?" Picard asked.
"I don't know," Brody answered honestly.
Reaching into her bag, she dropped a small capsule into the water. Jean-Luc watched with fascination as it dissolved.
"What was that?" he inquired, hoping it was some sort of medicine to cure his ailing fish.
"Micronutrients and minerals," Brody answered. "This is purified, clean water. It doesn't have the minerals or micronutrients he needs in the water. So these little capsules add it. They're a bit different depending on just what type of fishy friend I transport."
Lieutenant Thea Brody was an aquatic veterinarian. Though she specialised in providing healthcare for the Cetacean crew, Brody was the closest thing Jean-Luc had to an expert when it came to Livingston.
"We'll have to wait and see how he responds," Brody said.
She turned back to the tank and scanned the contents. Then she retrieved a device from her bag and began extracting water samples.
"When was the last time you cleaned the tank?" Brody asked.
Jean-Luc's fists clenched.
"I clean it every two weeks!" Picard responded tersely.
Brody turned back to the Captain with a sympathetic look.
"I wasn't implying you did anything to cause this, sir," Brody said softly. "I just need a basis of comparison for the tests."
"Oh," Jean-Luc said, his anger dissipating. "Two days ago."
"Good," Brody smiled.
Such a recent cleaning would make the process of identifying any anomalies much easier.
"I need to take him back to my lab and run tests," Brody explained. "Please don't drain or clean the tank yet. I'll be back later to disassemble it. I want to check a few things first."
"What happened?" Picard pleaded. "Do you think that, that I did something – even unintentionally – that caused this?"
"There's a lot of common, unintentional ways that fish can encounter toxicity," Brody said.
"He was poisoned," Picard realised.
"I don't know that yet," Brody replied.
"I do," Picard declared.
"Come," Picard ordered.
He was seated behind his desk as he sipped on a cup of Earl Grey tea. Jean-Luc was doing everything he could to project the picture of a cool, collected Captain. He didn't want Lore leaving with the impression that he was rattled.
"You requested to see me, Captain?" Lore asked, poking his head in.
"Yes, come in," Jean-Luc said.
He waved Lore in and motioned for him to take a seat.
"Would you like a cup of tea?" Jean-Luc offered.
"No, thank you," Lore replied.
"Something stronger perhaps?" Jean-Luc pressed.
"I am fine, sir," Lore answered.
Lore scanned the room and his eyes immediately fell on the empty tank in the corner. He suspected this visit was merely a ruse to test him.
But Lore couldn't resist poking the bear.
"Has something happened to your fish?" Lore asked innocently. "A stunning Mandarinfish, correct?"
"A lionfish," Picard corrected. "He's currently being housed elsewhere while I have some maintenance done on the tank."
"Then it's alive," Lore said.
"Of course," Picard replied coolly.
There was a tense pause.
"Good," Lore said. "I would hate to think of anything happening to such a magnificent creature. One that's so important to you."
Jean-Luc chose to let the comment slide. He had no evidence that Lore was behind it, though everything inside him was screaming that Lore was the culprit.
An accusation would only drive Beverly further into Lore's arms.
"I asked you here this evening because I wanted to give you this," Picard said.
He slid his hand across the desk and then lifted it to reveal a small gold combadge.
Lore blinked, uncertain of how to respond.
"A communicator," Lore said.
"Typically they're reserved for Starfleet crew though I have occasionally permitted some of our civilian crew to use them," Picard explained. "Given your indispensable presence on the medical team, I felt it was high time we included you in that."
Lore felt conflicted.
He couldn't very well turn down the combadge. Beverly had been advocating to Jean-Luc on his behalf, urging him to formally accept Lore as a civilian member of the crew. She wanted to give him a real job with a title and access to all the benefits of being a full member of the team.
But Lore suspected this gift was hardly bestowed upon him for the right reasons. Combadges also offered a way to track the user. With a combadge, Captain Picard could monitor Lore's presence on the ship in real time.
Sure, Lore could take it off and slip away. But too much of that would raise suspicion. No, he would need to wear this to and from his shifts.
This combadge would significantly cut into his ability to slip away.
"Thank you, Captain," Lore said as his fingers closed around the badge. "I am so grateful that you have placed such trust in me."
He flashed the Captain a wide grin.
"Is there anything else you require, Captain?" Lore asked, feigning eagerness.
"That will be all for now," Jean-Luc nodded.
"Wonderful," Lore said as he stood to go. "I have rather important dinner plans, you see."
Jean-Luc's fist clenched visibly – an act that did not go unnoticed by Lore.
"With a rather special woman," Lore added.
He stopped just shy of the door and turned back.
"Goodnight, Captain," Lore said on his way out.
By the time they reached the festival, it was already the early afternoon. And despite the cold, the town was packed with people.
There was only about ninety minutes of daylight left before sundown and Data and Tasha were eager to take full advantage of that time.
Kids raced about through the crowd as they ran from game to game. The park in the centre of the village was lined with stalls from various vendors with games or wares for sale – everything from local favourites like pickled fish and honey sticks to expertly-made winter caps and scarves in every colour.
Data and Tasha had stopped by one stall, competing with one another to get the most balls into "the cave." It was a crudely constructed mountain top and whoever hit the target with the best accuracy the most times would win a prize.
"Seven out of ten, seven out of ten," the worker announced. "Not bad but can the pale stranger top the little lady's score?"
Tasha just rolled her eyes.
Before the worker could blink, Data had landed all ten balls in the target.
The worker was silent.
"Again," Tasha said, pushing a fistful of coin into the worker's hands.
The second time around, Tasha managed to land nine balls in the target. It was an improvement, but she knew it wasn't enough to beat Data.
Data took his time with his second set – though it did not impact his accuracy.
He picked up the final ball and tossed it casually in his hand.
"It's not fair," Tasha teased.
"My dear, you are well aware there is no possible way to make any such game 'fair' in the sense that you and I would play on the same level," Data responded.
He pulled his arm back as he wound up his shot.
Just before his fingers released the ball, Tasha pinched his bottom.
The ball hit just shy of the target and fell into the pit below.
"You missed that shot on purpose," Tasha said.
Data smirked ever so slightly.
"You cheated," Data replied.
"My dear, you are well aware there is no possible way to make any such game fair," Tasha teased.
"You are a menace," Data said as he nuzzled against her face.
"Come on," Tasha said.
She took hold of his hand and pulled him along through the crowd.
"Oh, no, no, no," Data said as he realised where they were headed.
"It'll be fun," Tasha encouraged.
They stopped just short of a crowd watching as various people were waiting to compete in a feat of strength. Tasha had spied a notice for the competition on her way into the solstice carnival.
"It would not be right," Data said.
"Maybe I get all hot and bothered watching you?" Tasha suggested as she ran her hands over his chest. "Maybe I like seeing just how strong you are."
Data glanced over at the other competitors and then back to Tasha.
She was giving him a look.
The look.
The one that signalled she wanted to pounce on him.
She gripped the front of his suit and pressed herself against him and Data knew it was a lost cause.
"A-alright," he stammered.
Hakgunfuld 'The Hammer' Hreinssjarl turned in place as he wound up his shot.
His feet fell heavy on the ground as he spun the massive stone ring around his body to gain momentum.
When he reached a red line painted on the snow, his powerful arms released the device – sending it flying out onto a frozen field where it landed with a resounding thud.
The crowed erupted.
'The Hammer' was something of a local celebrity known for his strength. He was also favoured to win this year's competition.
Elski Johansdottir, another competitor, stepped forward and offered her hand. The two shook – Elski wanting to wish him well given that his shot had knocked her out of play.
The winner was determined based on whoever could throw a heavy stone known as a glunwheer the farthest – though in Tasha's opinion 'stone' was really underselling it. They were more like boulders.
Data was next.
He stepped forward and picked up the stone.
Tasha blew warm air over her gloves as she tried to ignore the chatter from the people around her.
"Skinny lad, isn't he?" one of them remarked.
"Like a bean pole," another chuckled.
"Ten crowns says he can't even lift it," the first bet.
A moment later, Data lifted the stone overhead and chucked it, sending it flying across the field with such force that it disappeared from sight.
He hadn't even bothered to use the space provided to build momentum – he had no need.
The crowd gasped and fell silent.
Well, almost everyone.
"Whooooo hoooo!" Tasha cheered. "Whoooo hoooo!"
Data turned around and ran his eyes over the speechless audience, their faces full of shock.
Tasha was standing in the front, pumping her fists, and jumping up and down as she danced to celebrate Data's throw.
"Yeah! That's what I'm talking about," she shouted.
"You were brilliant," Tasha praised as she kissed his cheek.
"I was disqualified," Data reminded her.
They were sitting together at a table in the park, enjoying the final bits of sunlight as they sipped on hot cider.
"I make them uncomfortable," Data said.
He turned his attention to the side where a group of children were eyeing him and whispering to one another.
As soon as Data made eye contact, they scurried off. They were tripping over one another in an effort to get away as fast as their tiny legs could carry them.
Data felt Tasha's hand on his face. She forced him to turn his head and meet her eyes.
"You don't make me uncomfortable," Tasha said.
"I scare them," Data said. "I always have."
Omicron Theta Colony | 2335
Data checked his basket again to ensure it looked presentable. This was a big day for him – Juliana was allowing him to go into town alone.
B-4 was having a particularly rough day and though Data was still young, she felt he could handle it.
They'd been more cautious with him than they had with Lore. They spent a much longer amount of time teaching him how to interact with other people.
So Data had been tasked with going to town to make a delivery. He would exchange the repaired microprocessors from Noonian along with some fresh herbs from the garden in order to procure a small crate of used dilithium shards from a local merchant.
Noonian often made such trades in order to get his hands on materials. He would complete complex repairs or maintenance on their systems in exchange for pieces that most people in the colony considered trash.
But Noonian had a way of turning such discarded materials into wonderful inventions. In fact, much of the Soong homestead had come from recycled materials.
Even used dilithium shards could be recycled and used to power lab equipment.
It was an important exchange. And Data was determined to prove that he could do this on his own.
"That's far enough," a voice called out.
Data stopped.
An elderly merchant hobbled out from his shop. He had long ago learned not to trust allowing the Soong boys into his shop.
B-4 had a way of unintentionally damaging his wares. The boy didn't mean to, he was just curious and didn't always know his own strength.
On the other hand, Lore had a knack for pinching things.
The shopkeep hated to have to check his pockets on the way out, but he just couldn't trust the boy.
"Good morning," Data responded. "I have come to trade. Mother sent me."
"Which one are you?" the merchant inquired.
"I am Data," Data responded.
"Which one are you?" the merchant repeated.
He raised his cane and shook it in Data's face.
"Are you the idiot or the troublemaker?" he demanded.
On his subsequent journeys into town, Data became accustomed to such comments. After three months, Data began to turn down his audio receptors so that he could not hear the whispers as he passed.
"Strange. The lot of them."
"Unsettling yellow eyes."
"Gives me the creeps. Heard he's got a whole army of them out there on that farm."
For a tender-hearted soul, such comments were more than enough to make him question his own existence.
Present
As the sun went down, Data and Tasha stood huddled against one another to watch it sink below the horizon.
It was still frigid, but with all the people and bonfires about it was tolerable.
In the tradition of the Neiran people, the festival officially began at sunset and would last until the morning.
Data and Tasha had slept in late that morning in order to feel properly rested for what would be a long night. And they had packed provisions including blankets, snacks, and plenty of hot tea.
Not that they were short of options – there were little stalls and shoppes everywhere selling hot beverages, apple donuts, teacakes, or steaming sandwiches smothered in cheese and gravy for discerning customers.
But Tasha was much more keen on the homemade soup Data had made.
"I think I'd be sick if I ate that," Tasha whispered.
They watched in fascination as a small child devoured a cheesy, gravy-coated tower of a local delicacy known as 'the beast.'
"Why do humans have a compulsion to injure themselves with food?" Data asked.
"Because it tastes good," Tasha replied. "I mean, have you ever seen me go at a bag of prawn crisps?"
"No," Data responded honestly.
"Well consider yourself lucky then," Tasha replied. "Those and the jammie cookies Geordi makes? I'll eat them until my stomach hurts."
Data looked alarmed.
"Tasha-" he began to say.
"Relax, it's hyperbole," she replied softly before adding. "Sort of."
As the last brilliant red bits of sunlight sank below the horizon, the crowd erupted with cheers.
"And so we begin the long night," Data said.
There would be music and festivities until the sunrise. It was a long tradition, meant to celebrate the coming sunlight, longer days, and to kiss goodbye to the darkness.
It was also a night when family and friends would come together to keep each other company.
Tasha grinned, resting her forehead against Data's.
"I'm so glad to be here with you," she smiled.
"He just gave it to you?" Beverly asked.
"Yes," Lore replied.
"This is great!" Beverly said as she clutched Lore's hands. "This means he trusts you. He's coming around."
He pulled Lore into a warm embrace.
Beverly understood just how significant this moment was. It was an act of good faith on Jean-Luc's part, and she desperately hoped that this would signify they were moving forward.
Things with Data and Tasha were still tense.
Maybe, just maybe their holiday would help. They could return rested and relaxed, and Beverly was willing to make one more attempt to try and rebuild that friendship.
But Lore remained stiff in her arms.
"This is a good thing," Beverly assured him. "If Jean-Luc's finally come round, then I'm certain we can work things out with Data."
Lore stepped back. Holding her hands, he brought them to his lips and pressed a slow kiss there.
"Please do not mistake my reaction for ungratefulness," Lore began. "But I fear this will only further the wedge between my brother and I."
He had no doubt that Data would be thrilled about the combadge. It would allow him to track Lore.
"He may view me as even more of a threat," Lore said, feigning distress.
"You're worried he's going to do something to you," Beverly realised.
"As you know, he has employed physical violence against me in the past," Lore said.
He was doing his best to really sell it and Beverly was eating it up.
"He can't do that," Beverly declared. "Jean-Luc isn't going to stand for it. Not again."
Lore wasn't convinced.
"He already has. Twice," Lore reminded her. "I was sent to the brig. My brother was sent on holiday."
"I'll talk to him," Beverly promised.
"I don't want to cause any trouble," Lore said, pretending to be concerned about taking up her time.
"You're the good kind of trouble," Beverly grinned as she gave him a quick peck.
Across the ship, Jean-Luc was in his ready room reading through the daily report. There was a chime at the door.
"Enter," Picard called out.
Worf stepped inside.
"Captain," Worf nodded as he came to stand in front of the desk.
Jean-Luc set down his tablet and sat up properly in his seat.
"What did you find?" Jean-Luc asked.
"I've completed my initial investigation on your ready room," Worf explained. "The door entry log was tampered with."
Jean-Luc couldn't help but smile. It only confirmed his theory that Lore had a hand in the attempt to kill Livingston.
"Someone accessed the door to your ready room at 04:18 this morning," Worf advised. "They were here approximately six minutes before leaving. They erased the log, the secondary backup, and the primary security file log on the server."
In essence, they had left no trace save for the fact that they had erased the evidence of their presence.
"And there's no way to know who cleared the logs because let me guess, they used an override command code to do it?" Picard asked.
Worf nodded.
At least that won't be a problem anymore. Jean-Luc thought.
With his combadge, Lore wouldn't be able to hide like that.
"Well, thank you for checking, Mr Worf," Picard said.
"Sir?" Worf asked.
"I know it's a dead end," Picard acknowledged. "But please don't take that personally. I'm very pleased with your investigation and what you have managed to turn up. It explains a few things I've theorised about regarding-"
"Sir," Worf interjected, cutting him off. "I cross checked the time your ready room was accessed against the combadge location data collected during that time."
Jean-Luc was surprised.
"You found a match?" he inquired.
He hadn't anticipated there would be. After all, Lore didn't have a combadge.
Worf nodded. He appeared uncomfortable.
"Mr Worf?" Picard pressed.
"Wesley Crusher was in your ready room this morning," Worf reported.
Jean-Luc nodded. Lore must have stolen Wesley's combadge in an effort to frame him.
Well it's not going to work! Jean-Luc thought.
He could see right through such a flimsy act.
"Thank you, Mr Worf. I'll take care of it," Picard said.
"Captain, there is more," Worf insisted.
Jean-Luc leaned forward in his seat with interest.
"I spoke with Lieutenant Brody. Your fish became ill after suffering from toxic levels of mercurium beta isoline," Worf explained. "It's a chemical used in engineering applications. A lubricant for some of the console coils."
Jean-Luc had heard of it but wasn't terribly familiar with the substance.
"It's a carefully controlled substance that requires signatures from both the Chief Engineer and Security Chief to access," Worf went on. "In the last ninety days, only four people aboard the ship have been granted access to this chemical."
Jean-Luc felt the colour drain from his face.
"Two maintenance personnel whose usage matches their allotment for console work under the supervision of Lieutenant La Forge, O'Brien who was given a small amount for a repair job in transporter room four, and Wesley Crusher," Worf said.
"Surely there must be an explanation," Jean-Luc said.
"Mr Crusher was allotted eight canisters of the chemical for use in a lab project," Worf shared. "As you know, he reports on this daily to Lieutenant La Forge. His research notes indicate four canisters have been used thus far."
Worf sighed and shifted his weight to his other foot.
"There are only three canisters left in the lab," Worf announced.
"I'd like to speak with Mr Crusher before we jump to any conclusions," Picard advised.
Worf nodded.
"I think you should," Worf urged. "When I attempted to contact him for information, he was missing. I found him an hour ago in Lieutenant Yar's quarters with no memory of the last sixteen hours."
"Physically he's fine," Deanna commented.
"Mentally?" Picard asked.
"That's more complex," Deanna replied. "He's frightened. And angry."
They were standing in the corner of sickbay watching closely as Beverly examined her son.
The tension between the two was obvious to everyone in sickbay.
He flinched when Beverly tried to examine his eyes and was quick to push her away when she offered a sedative.
"Just drug up me so I shut up and go away?" Wes muttered.
"To help relax you," Beverly insisted.
"You know what would help me relax?" Wesley asked in an icy tone. "Get him out of sickbay."
Wesley glared across the room where Lore was waiting near Beverly's office.
"Yes, yes. We're all aware that you don't like Mr Lore," Beverly replied, dismissing his request.
She was sick and tired of walking on eggshells around her son when it came to her relationship. In Beverly's mind, she had tried to be friendly and understanding. She'd made peace offerings and a real effort to bring them together.
Lore was willing yet Wesley remained obstinate.
So Beverly was walking a fine line of trying to be respectful, but not tolerating the kind of treatment Wesley had shown Lore.
"Get him out," Wesley hissed.
"He works here," Beverly replied. "If you're not happy about that, then look the other way."
"You know, my door is always open if you two wanted to-" Deanna began to say as she approached the table.
"Yes!" Beverly said brightly.
"No," Wesley answered.
He got up off the table and took a few steps back.
"I'm not going to sit through hours of counselling with him," Wesley declared. "But more than that, I'm done dealing with a mother that won't trust me."
Beverly was embarrassed. She really didn't care to air the dirty laundry of her relationship in front of everyone.
"I know it's hard. I know right now you feel that your world, our world is changing," Beverly said softly. "And it's scary. But Lore will never, ever replace your dad. Or the way I-"
Wesley scoffed, offended.
"That's not why I'm mad. I'm not five you know!" he argued. "He's bad for you. He's dangerous. He hurt me. And you, you don't even see it! You can't see it!"
Beverly stepped forward and tried to pull her son into a hug. Wesley recoiled.
"He's the one that, that did all that damage in Lieutenant Yar's quarters. He broke my jaw," Wesley said wildly.
"Ok, ok," Beverly nodded. "How do you know it was Lore?"
She was trying to politely remind her son of the details of that day.
Wesley didn't have an answer.
"I just…. I know," he asserted.
"Do you think maybe your resentment for Mr Lore have influenced your view of those events at all?" Beverly suggested.
Wesley just shook his head.
"This is what I mean. You can't see how he's hurting the people around you," Wesley replied. "You're too busy having it off to care."
Without another word, Wesley turned on his heel and left.
She made to go after him, but Lore stepped forward to stop her.
"Well, no one ever said the teen years were easy," Beverly sighed.
"I'll go," Deanna offered.
While Lore comforted Beverly, Deanna chased off to catch Wesley.
And Jean-Luc was left alone in the corner of sickbay feeling like a darkness had settled in on his ship.
"Hold the lift!" Deanna shouted as she slipped in through the doors.
"Don't waste your time," Wesley grumbled.
"Hey, I believe you," Deanna said.
Wes shook his head, waving her off.
"You have to say that. You're a counsellor," Wesley replied.
"I believe you," Deanna repeated.
Wes sighed and glanced over at Deanna.
"Really?" he asked.
Deanna nodded.
"There's truth in what you say," Deanna said, throwing her arm around Wesley.
For Wesley, this was a welcome relief.
"Why don't we go somewhere you feel safe, and you can tell me all about it?" Deanna suggested.
Wesley hesitated.
"I promise that whatever you tell me is between you and me alone," Deanna promised. "Not Captain Picard. Not your mum."
For a brief second, Deanna's thoughts drifted back to Tasha.
Of course, Deanna believed Wesley. She knew exactly what Lore was capable of. And she also recognised that it was important for Wesley to feel he had a person he could rely on to keep that secret.
"I believe you. I know Lore hurt you," Deanna said.
Wesley's eyes narrowed.
"He did this to somebody else too, didn't he?" Wes realised. "I'm not the only one."
Deanna paused.
"I think we should focus on-" Deanna began to say.
"You can't tell me," Wesley said, understanding. "But he's done this before. That's how you know I'm telling the truth."
Deanna gave Wesley's hand a reassuring squeeze. It was neither a confirmation nor a denial.
"Why don't you start at the beginning?" she asked.
"Don't let him get to you," Lore encouraged.
He came up behind Beverly and wrapped his arms around her. Lore tugged at the sleeve of her dressing gown, pulling it back to reveal her bare shoulder.
"Mmmmm," Lore growled as he planted a series of slow, tender kisses along her shoulder.
He was doing his best to comfort her.
Only Beverly's mind was preoccupied by the fight with her son.
"I'm sorry," Beverly apologised as she slipped away from him.
She pulled her dressing gown back over her shoulder and tied it tight at her waist.
Lore looked both surprised and disappointed.
"It's not you," Beverly assured him. "I just, I can't do this right now."
Lore took hold of her hand and brought it to his lips. He placed a soft kiss on the back of it.
"Of course. You have a lot weighing on your mind," Lore said. "I only wish to make you happy."
He tucked a red curl back behind her ear and smiled.
"I though perhaps I could help take your mind off things for a bit," Lore said. "No one works as hard as you, my dear. And no one deserves a break more than my dear doctor."
Beverly caved.
"Oh what am I doing?" she said, chastising herself. "Here I am moping about when you're the one that should be feeling glum."
Lore shook his head.
"It's alright," he assured her.
"No, I'm sorry. I've been so selfish," Beverly went on.
"Well your relationship with your son is special," Lore said as he guided Beverly over to the sofa.
He sat down and pulled her into his lap.
"My relationship with Data," he trailed off and shrugged as if to dismiss the idea. "I've never really had what you share with Wesley. That love, that trust."
It worked.
Beverly was completely hooked on his every word.
"They'll be back in a few days," Beverly remarked. "You know I'd do anything to help you find that with Data."
"I know," Lore replied as he pulled her into a kiss.
"And that is checkmate," Data said.
"Hmm?" Tasha replied, shaking herself awake.
In spite of her insistence to see the festival through, she was beginning to fade fast.
After walking the distance of the village, they had opted to watch the band. Data wasn't a great dancer. But then again, neither was Tasha and they made for a perfectly uncoordinated pair.
Ice skating had been one of their favourite moments during the night. They'd laced up their skates and joined dozens of other couples and families gliding across the smooth surface of a frozen pond.
Tasha was a natural and there was something that felt right about skating around hand-in-hand with Data under lights strung up, criss-crossing the distance of the pond.
When they'd grown too chilly, the pair had found their own cosy spot near one of the bonfires. Tasha had dozed off for a bit and Data had been content to let her stay there asleep on his lap.
She'd woken up shortly after 03:00 feeling miffed that Data had let her sleep for so long.
"We're here together," Tasha had insisted. "Not simply because you make the world's best pillow."
So they had moved on to chess. The festival had several outdoor sets for play and Tasha had wanted to do something that would stimulate her brain.
And when her backside had grown numb from sitting on a stone bench, she'd curled up on Data's lap and they opted to simply rotate the board as necessary.
"That brings the grand total to forty-eight games to me," Data said.
"And a big, fat, whopping zero on my end," Tasha added.
"The sun will be up soon. And with it, new beginnings," Data smiled. "Perhaps even a victory for you."
Tasha snuggled in close against his shoulder.
"I like the sound of new beginnings though I don't have much hope for my chess game," Tasha said.
"I like the sound of beginnings as well," Data replied softly.
Tasha slipped off her thick glove and reached for Data's hand.
"Like riding an icicle," she grinned.
"Bicycle," Data corrected.
"Oh. Bicycle. Right," Tasha replied, making a mental note of the word so as not to mess up the idiom again.
It wasn't long before the first rays of sunlight began to peek over the horizon.
"Here it is," Data said in awe.
"I can't see," Tasha said, scrambling to her feet.
Without hesitation, Data bent down and motioned for Tasha to climb onto his back. She threw her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist.
Tasha rested her chin on his shoulder. It wasn't all the much higher, but it was certainly cosier.
The bells in the village centre began to ring as the sun started to rise. The crowd had only grown in size as the evening had worn on.
It was now packed with people as they awaited the dawn.
It was still bitterly cold but had warmed up just enough that there were thick flakes of snow falling.
"It is native Neiran," Data explained.
"It's beautiful," Tasha replied as she listened to the crowd singing.
"They are welcoming the dawn," Data translated.
He glanced up at Tasha.
"And with it, better days to come," he smiled.
By the time it was light out, Tasha could barely keep her eyes open. Data had asked if she wanted to get breakfast in the village.
Assuming Data was keen to stay, Tasha nodded eagerly.
"Sure. Let's do it," she replied in a sleepy voice.
Data frowned.
"I think another time," he replied as he began to lead Tasha back to the path up the mountain.
"Oh I'm fine," she said, swaying slightly.
"I have a better idea," Data told her.
"Do tell," Tasha replied as she looped her arm through Data's.
They set off back for their cabin. The snow made a pleasant crunching sound underfoot as they started back up the long mountain path.
"You and I snuggled down in bed. And yes, you may wear those thick, ugly socks you are so fond of," Data teased. "We will take a nap."
"Mmm, I like this already," Tasha replied.
"And when you wake, I will prepare breakfast," Data continued. "And I think we should take breakfast in a nice hot bath just to ensure you are properly warm."
"Oooo, don't tempt me," Tasha said.
"That, my dear, is precisely my intention," Data said in a low voice.
Tasha stopped.
Data immediately panicked.
Have I been too forward? He thought.
They were still working to find a comfortable rhythm again. Data had no intention to rush her. But he had been feeling confident that Tasha would welcome such an offer.
"I am sorry if-" Data began to apologise.
"No," Tasha smiled.
She reached up to cup his face.
"You're so kind," she said. "So incredibly kind."
Data relaxed.
The snow was really starting to come down now. The sky had opened up and was coating the valley with another fresh layer of powder.
"You have snowflakes on your eyelashes again," Data observed.
Tasha reached up to brush them off, but Data caught her hand.
"Do not," he said. "Please. It is most becoming."
Data delicately sprinkled fresh dill over the pan.
He inhaled deeply and made a mental note that he would have to light a scented candle once he was finished.
The downside of searing salmon in this cabin meant that everything would smell like salmon for the next few hours.
"Would you like to eat at the table or in there?" Data inquired.
"Wherever," Tasha replied absentmindedly. "Do you want help?"
"Please stay where you are," Data instructed.
Tasha was always keen to offer a helping hand. But she was nothing shy of a disaster in the kitchen and Data didn't have enough ingredients to make dinner twice.
After plating their meal, Data carried it into the main room so they could sit in front of the fire and eat.
It was dark out. But it was a clear night, and they could see for miles with the view their mountaintop cabin offered.
"I'm going to miss this place," Tasha sighed.
Data set down his fork and reached across to take hold of her hand.
"I find myself in agreement," Data replied.
It was their last night in the cabin. In the morning, they would have to make the long journey back to the Enterprise.
Back to reality.
And Lore.
"I know we have to go back," Tasha said. "I just really like being here with you. Sharing a space."
It felt like home.
"Tasha, you know we could move in together on the Enterprise," Data said.
It was like a lightbulb flipped on in Tasha's mind.
"You're right," she said. "We could."
She turned to Data and smiled in astonishment.
"We could move in together. Share quarters," she thought aloud.
"Yes," Data replied.
"We could live together on the ship," Tasha went on.
Data realised she was not asking for permission or clarification, but rather attempting to process this revelation.
"And we could wake up together every morning," Tasha realised.
Up until very recently, their relationship had been a secret from everyone. But now that it was public knowledge, there was nothing to prevent them from being together.
No more sneaking around. No more rushed goodbyes to get back before morning.
"We could make dinner together every night," Tasha said.
"No," Data said, stopping that idea before it could proceed any further.
Tasha's face fell.
"You can wait on the sofa while I will prepare dinner," Data explained with a wry smile.
Tasha understood.
"Cannot have you wrecking my replicator with your penchant for the likes prawn flavoured crisps," Data teased.
"Have I told you lately that I love you?" Tasha asked.
"Eat your dinner before it grows cold," Data said. "And once you have cleared your plate you can tell me more about it."
Data closed his eyes and shuddered at her touch as he felt Tasha's lips around his cock.
He reached underwater and gently caressed her wet hair.
Her fingers closed around the base of his cock as she stroked him, working the length of his thick cock with her hand and her mouth.
Data let his head rest back against the edge of the jacuzzi.
A moment later, he lifted it back up to watch Tasha emerge from the water.
There was a predatory look in her eyes as she closed in on Data.
"Tasha," he breathed.
"Shhhh," she instructed, placing a finger to his lips.
She brought her knees up onto the bench, straddling his lap as she leaned in close.
Data sat perfectly still as she sank down on the length of him.
"Ohhh," Tasha keened.
She reached up to trace the line of his jaw with a wet finger.
"My beautiful, golden-eyed man," she whispered.
Data was transfixed as she began to move. There was no sound other than Tasha's breathing and the sound of the water gently rippling as she continued to ride him.
Tasha reached for the nape of his neck as she pulled herself up and down on his stiff cock.
Her breasts brushed against the water, setting just above so Data could watch them move. Tasha could feel him watching them and it gave her a renewed sense of confidence.
She hissed with pleasure as Data pinched her stiff, frozen nipple.
They had to be careful not to slosh too much water outside of the tub. It was a slip hazard. And given they were on deck perched hundreds of metres above the valley below, the possibility of slipping was not a fond thought.
Their hair was frozen, and Tasha's lips were starting to turn blue. Data could see her breath in the frigid air.
But she had no intention of stopping.
"I love you," she panted. "I love you."
Data pulled her firmly against his body, capturing his lips with his own.
"I love you," he echoed a moment later, his breath hot against her ear.
"Shuttle one, you are clear for docking," the Enterprise ordered.
Data punched in the appropriate commands to take the shuttle back in through the shield door that protected the shuttlebay.
He reached across the console and took hold of Tasha's hand, feeling a sense of pride at the ring that she now wore.
"I love you," Data declared as he turned to her.
"I love you too," Tasha replied with a small smile.
They were feeling uneasy about returning. But they were doing it together. And there was nothing that was going to prevent them from finding happiness.
They'd stayed up all night together in front of the fireplace talking about how moving in would work and what they would do upon their return.
Data's hope of rekindling their romance and finding a comfortable new normal had worked. In fact, their trip had exceeded his expectations.
The shuttle landed softly on the floor of the shuttlebay. Data gave her hand a quick kiss before he powered down the sublight engines.
With their bags in hand, Data and Tasha stepped off and were greeted by Geordi, Deanna, Commander Riker, Wesley, Worf, and Captain Picard.
To Deanna's delight, they were hand-in-hand.
"Welcome back," Captain Picard said.
"Thank you, sir," Tasha replied.
"Captain," Data said with a small nod.
He leaned in close and whispered something to Tasha. She nodded.
Riker was relieved to see they were not only together and in good spirits, but they seemed to be comfortable in an intimate way that signalled they had managed to work through the trauma caused by Lore.
"We have something we would like to share with you. Our friends," Data said.
Deanna had to hide her smile.
"We are engaged to be married," Data announced.
Deanna did her best to act surprised. Of course, Tasha had already shared such information with her friend. And Captain Picard knew from Data's own confession – but it had been shared in secret.
Now, it was official.
Riker rushed forward to pull them both into a tight hug.
"Qa'pla!" Worf said as he pumped his fist triumphantly.
"Sir, sir," Data said as Riker clutched his friends in an uncomfortably tight bear hug.
Riker released them and stepped back.
"Sorry," he sniffled.
He reached up to wipe his eyes.
"I'm just thrilled," he confessed.
"Congratulations," Captain Picard said as he gave Data's shoulder a squeeze.
"Hey, don't hog them all to yourself," Geordi said, sneaking in. "Get over here, you."
He threw his arms around Data and gave him a tight squeeze.
"I'm glad you're back," Wesley said.
Tasha could tell there was something wrong.
"Hey kid," she said as she pulled him into a hug. "Missed you."
"I missed you too, Tash," Wesley admitted.
In many ways, she was like the older sister he never had.
"Come on, let's get something loaded with cheese and carbs and fill you in," Tasha said, ruffling his hair.
While Wesley and Tasha headed off for the canteen, Data went to return their luggage to Tasha's quarters.
On his way there, he ran into Lore stepping off the lift.
"Brother," Lore said with a curt nod as he stepped past him.
Data said nothing, his eyes fixated on the gold combadge pinned to Lore's chest.