Note: Much of this chapter was drawn from a deleted scene that never made it into my previous story "Trust."

Chapter Eight

The evening sky was still light; the cool, Earth breeze scented by the lemon tree, the sun-warmed lawn, and the nearby flower beds.

Tasha sat on the porch swing while Geordi paced in front of her, gesticulating his arms as he fought to wrap his brain around her story. Data sat in the weathered deck chair, his golden gaze apparently fixed and attentive. But, only some fifteen percent of Data's conscious attention was actually focused on Geordi's questions and the answers Tasha offered. The rest was tied up in a tangled whirl of emotion and memory…memories first experienced in a cool, analytical light that now triggered a host of feelings so raw and deep the android barely knew how to process them…

The dim lighting in Tasha's bedroom lent the walls and ceiling above a warm, golden glow that could fairly be described as 'cozy'.

Data lay back against the pillow and stared blankly upward, thoroughly preoccupied by what was going on…inside...

Never before had the android been so…aware…of his body. His eyes, his skin, his lips and his fingertips, the toes at the ends of his feet… The gradually slowing pulse of his nutritive fluids as they surged through his sub-dermal tubing…

They were all him, all a part of his integrated, integral being in a way he had never previously contemplated. Since his initial activation, his mind had always held the limelight, while his android frame played, quite literally, a supporting role – providing strong, durable transport for his positronic brain.

Now…

It was as if a switch had been flicked, turning all that he had taken for granted about himself, his nature and his purpose inside out. Somehow, his senses had usurped priority over his rational thoughts, bringing new significance and intensity to the spicy scent of the candles by Tasha's bedside, the silky smoothness of the sheets…the sight of the woman lying beside him on the bed…her soft, contented sighs…

No, not 'somehow.' There was a reason the positronic supercomputer that served as his brain seemed wrapped in a hazy fog, why he felt as if his processing speed had slowed to a strange, surreal crawl. Data would have thought it impossible, but even in his current, oddly addled state he knew it was the only logical answer.

He blinked twice, and turned to face his smiling friend.

"I am not immune," he told her.

"Hmm?" Tasha sighed, and stretched like a languid cat. "What's that, Data?"

"The intoxicant currently spreading throughout the ship," Data explained. "The captain assumed that I would be immune. It is why he sent me to escort you to sickbay. An android. A machine. But I am not. Not immune…"

He stared at her, his golden eyes wide.

"How can this be?"

"Maybe it's because you're not just a machine," she said and rolled closer, her expression wickedly playful as she reached out to touch his cheek. "You're more than that. Much more…"

"But…how can I have contracted this?" he said. "I am constructed of synthetic materials."

"You have skin. And pores. And veins under your skin," she said, her eyes following her fingers as they traced a slow path along his temples, the side of his nose, over his pale lips. "Just like me." She smiled. "And, you've said you have some organic components."

"True…" He spoke softly, not wishing to cause her to stop what she was doing. "There are many ways in which we are more alike than unlike. Perhaps, more than I realized…"

Data appreciated the sensation of her warm hand trailing down to rest on his shoulder. He placed his hand over hers, their fingers intertwining with a comfortable intimacy he found most satisfactory. And, yet…

"I feel inefficient," he admitted, "as though my thoughts have been subjected to a strong dampening field. Everything seems so much slower than I am used to—"

She moved, propping herself up on her elbow and – for just that brief instant – time for Data seemed to stop. He swallowed and blinked, suddenly understanding the peculiar phrase 'his words caught in his throat'.

Tasha's wicked smile broadened.

"What?" she asked him.

"You are beautiful," he answered. "The most aesthetically striking sight I have ever seen."

"Compliments from a handsome man," she said drowsily, resting her head back on her pillow. "My handsome man…"

"Me?"

His eyes opened wide, and a slight, delicate smile pulled at his lips.

"Thank you," he said. "I never…"

But Tasha's eyes were closed and her breathing had slowed. Data brushed his own fingers over her flushed forehead, her slicked-back hairstyle that seemed almost an imitation of his own, and he realized she had fallen asleep.

He sat up, then rose unsteadily to his feet. His equilibrium was severely off kilter, his diagnostic programs prodded him with error messages… But this off-balance sensation was far from unpleasant. In fact, he thought it rather suited the striking implausibility of his current circumstance…the thoroughly unanticipated events that had brought him to this place in time, looking down at a woman who saw him as…

"…My handsome man…" she'd said, her words reverberating around and around his muzzy brain. "…you're not just a machine. You're more than that. Much more…"

"You trust me," he said, swaying slightly as he reached for his uniform. "The captain also trusts me. He trusts me to take you to sickbay. I wish to be trustworthy. A trustworthy person."

He dressed as quickly as he could, then helped the sleepy Tasha into her own uniform. When she refused to wake sufficiently to walk on her own, Data lifted her into his arms.

Tasha sighed and snugged her face against his shoulder, her arms rising to wrap around his neck as he carried her through the corridors and lifts to sickbay. Careful not to jostle her, he placed her on the biobed the nurse indicated, stepping back just enough to marvel again at her beauty…and his newfound ability to appreciate it. To appreciate her… Her willful spirit. The way she constantly worked to stretch herself beyond any perceived limitations.

The way she inspired him to do the same…

Data leaned dizzily against the edge of the bed, tracing his left hand gently over her features as she had traced his only minutes before.

"My man…" she murmured sleepily. "…so strong…"

"Yes, Tasha," he said, and rested his hand over hers. "I will always be your man."

His duty to the captain fulfilled and Tasha in safe hands, Data left a swift, soft kiss on her lips, then straightened and walked out of sickbay with a wobbly gait, babbling blithely to himself as he headed for the turbolift.

"I am a man. A person. A man person. Male. Male person. A male man."

"Did he just say he's a mailman?" an intoxicated crewman said to his friend, and the pair of them laughed drunkenly.

But, Data's mind was fixated on Tasha…on what they'd shared, and how he'd changed in so surprisingly short a time. He wondered if it showed…if the captain would notice a difference in his android officer. No longer a mere machine, but a fully functional man.

The 'lift doors opened and the intoxicated android staggered inside and leaned against the wall, certain that he finally understood what it felt like to be alive…

Data's expression hardened, and he turned his golden eyes on Tasha, his glare as cold as stone.

"What do you want from us?" he demanded, and she and Geordi gave a little jump, as if they'd forgotten the android was sitting there.

"I thought I explained," Tasha said, clearly confused by his hostile posture. "I wanted to help—"

"Help how?" he snapped, rising to his feet and pacing across the wooden boards. "If your story is to believed, you have been dead for nearly eight years! What kind of help could you possibly offer after all this time?"

Tasha's pale face reddened, and even Geordi seemed taken aback.

"I..." she stammered. "I thought..."

"I doubt you thought much about us at all," Data snarled. "Only what would best suit you. Well, get this straight. I am no longer some innocent toy to be played with then discarded at your convenience. I am a living, feeling being and I expect to be treated as such."

"Whoa, Data," Geordi said, staring at his livid friend. "Where is all this coming from?"

"She knows," Data said, suddenly needing to swallow as his voice grew rough. "If she really is Tasha Yar... She knows."

Tasha's eyes widened, and she quickly looked away.

"Data," she said. "I never meant—"

"I do not particularly care what you meant," the android snapped.

"It didn't mean anything!" she yelled, and jumped to her feet. "For God's sake, Data - I was intoxicated! We both were!"

"Have you forgotten, Tasha?" Data retorted coldly. "You infected me."

"And it was a mistake, OK? I admit it! It never would have happened if not for that damned virus!"

Data regarded her, moving closer until they stood only inches apart.

"Then, you are telling me that you felt nothing?" he said. "That the time we shared together truly held no meaning for you?"

"It was a mistake," she emphasized, her icy blue glare a match for his. "A stupid, one-time thing! I'm sorry!"

He nodded once, his pale jaw set.

"Then, you were right," he said grimly. "It never happened after all."

He turned and strode down the porch steps, walking swiftly through the yard toward the sidewalk and the street beyond.

Geordi looked from him to Tasha and back, yelling, "Hey, where are you going? What the hell just happened here?"

"Damnit!" Tasha cried, and punched the side of the house. "It wasn't supposed to be like this! He wasn't supposed to..."

"Supposed to what, Tasha?" Geordi demanded. "What was he talking about just then?"

Tasha stared at him.

"You mean, Data never told you?"

"Told me what?"

Tasha winced, and ran her hands over her burning face.

"It's nothing. It's not important," she muttered.

"Then why did he run off like that?" Geordi snapped. "Even with that damned chip, it's not like Data to react so strongly over nothing."

Tasha fiercely shook her head.

"I can't tell you," she said. "I know how close you two are, and I... I just can't—"

She dodged around him and ran up the path after Data.

Geordi clenched his fists angrily and followed, his mind filled with dark suspicions he didn't really want to be true.

Because, if they were, it meant Data, his best friend, had essentially been lying to him for all the years they'd known each other.

After all, Tasha had known how he'd felt about her, and so had Data. The thought that the two of them had... Behind his back... And, they'd never said a word...!

Tasha had caught up with Data by the gate but Geordi could see, despite the dimming twilight, the two of them were not alone. There was a third person out on the sidewalk, a young woman he recognized as the waitress from the Pie Hole: Dilly Gherkin. And, judging from the heat signature she was giving off, she was in an even more agitated state than the three of them.

"What's this now?" Geordi said irritably. "What is she doing here?"

"Geordi," Data called, gesturing for him to join them. "Dilly says there has been a murder in town."

"That's right," Dilly said, gasping and hiccuping through her hysterical tears. "They found him outside and... He's dead. He's dead! And the police are blaming me!"

To Be Continued...

References include - TNG: The Naked Now; Hide and Q.

Until next time, thanks so much for your nudges, and for your reviews! Your feedback is always appreciated!

Please let me know what you think! :)