Internal Displacement

Stardate 46101.06

(Thursday, 30 January 2369, 21:19 hours, ship's time)

U.S.S. Enterprise

Another Thursday night, another satisfying boxing session with Captain Picard, and I was on my way home with Data, who had, as usual, come to find me after the officer's poker game. Poker night was the one night a week he made a point of walking me home, and there was something comforting about the establishment of a routine. It was almost like a weekly date night, if a date could be roughly ten minutes long and consist of light conversation and holding hands in the turbo-lift.

"You were earlier than usual," I observed as we entered our dimly lit quarters. "Cards not in your favor?" In truth, my partner won more frequently than he lost, but I liked to tease him about it. That, too, had become a routine.

"Counselor Troi was feeling fatigued, and we concluded our game-play in deference to her."

The ship had recently hosted some big-wig peacemaker named Vas Alkar who was meant to be the savior of Rekag-Seronia, a planet that had only two dominant cultures that had been warring with each other since forever.

On the surface, it had been a fairly innocuous mission. Ambassadors either hitched rides on the Enterprise or used her as mobile headquarters fairly often, but this man also had a weird form of telepathy that allowed him to dump all of his negative emotions into another person – usually a woman – so he didn't have to deal with them, and when his current victim died en route, he chose Counselor Troi as his next target.

Only later did anyone make the grim joke that it was appropriate he'd been ferried to the Enterprise by a ship called the Dorian. Alkar's portrait didn't hang in some attic; it was painted onto whatever living, breathing person he corrupted into becoming his 'vessel.'

The whole concept made my skin crawl.

Seeing the counselor go through that made me wish we had a relationship that was less doctor-patient and more just-friends. I still hadn't managed to even express relief that she had - mostly – recovered from the ordeal. I still wasn't sure I should.

"How is she doing, really?" I asked. Spot appeared from nowhere and wove herself between our legs, causing both of us to stop as the door closed behind us. "Hey, Catling. Tripping people does not earn treats."

Spot ignored me; the way cats do.

Data, on the other hand, answered my question. "She seems to tire very easily," he said. "And there are moments when it seems she is not as 'present' as is typical for her."

"Does she talk to one of the other counselors, do you think?" I wondered aloud.

"You are asking who counsels the counselor?" He put a hint of a teasing lilt in the phrase. Experimenting with inflection was something he'd been doing more and more often lately, I'd noticed. Sometimes it wasn't effective, but he'd just nailed it.

"Something like that," I confirmed, smiling. "It can't be easy, having a whole department of psychology experts, but not really being able to confide in them." I squeezed his hand, then let it go. "I'm going to start a bath. Feel like joining me for a light meal in about half an hour?"

I could tell he wanted to ask me a follow-up question. Probably, he wanted to know if I was feeling like I didn't have anyone to confide in, but I wasn't in the mood for a drawn-out discussion. He was in command of the bridge overnight, due to report at midnight, and I wanted our evening to be light.

"That is an acceptable plan."

I started for the bedroom and the bathroom that was attached to it, but not before stretching up to claim a kiss. "That lemony lentil soup and the Greek salad from the Middle Eastern menu would be ideal."

"Noted," Data said, in the tone that meant it would be ready and waiting when I emerged from the bath.

Forty minutes later, I was wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants and seated across from Data at our dining table, where he had, indeed, had the soup and salad I'd requested waiting for me, along with a glass of chilled water.

As was usual when he wanted to discuss something important with me, he waited until I'd eaten several bites of each before broaching his subject. "Geordi and I have completed our analysis of the clockwork pigeon you received for your birthday."

I froze for a moment, my spoon poised above the bowl of soup. I both did and did not want to know what they'd found. I took a breath, then another, then set the spoon down and looked into Data's eyes. The yellow warmth I found there was always reassuring to me. "And?" I asked, trying hard to keep my voice from quivering.

"The bird itself is 'just' a bird. Geordi likened it to a children's toy." He waited for my nod, then continued. "By tracking mail and cargo manifests we determined that it was delivered along with other personal goods while we were still orbiting Earth last month."

"But it is from him? From Lore?"

"I do not know my brother's handwriting, Zoe. However, it bears enough of a resemblance to mine, though written by someone right-handed, that I would accept it as his. The paper upon which the note was written is a common brand, easily obtained throughout the quadrant. The package itself came through the San Francisco mail depot, and before that, Starbase Fourteen's cargo sorting facility, where it arrived from –"

I cut him off. "So, what you're saying is, there's nothing obviously dangerous, and no hint to where Lore himself might be?"

He hesitated, clearly wanting to give me a more definite answer, but finally he confirmed. "That is an accurate summation."

"Do you think he expects a response? Am I going to wake up one morning to find you deactivated and him standing over me with an evil grin threatening to kill me because I didn't send a thank-you note?" I couldn't keep the plaintive note out of my voice when I asked. "Why, Data? Why is he so fixated on me? I'm nothing special."

Two years before, I knew, Data's first response would have been to provide a logical answer to my questions. It was a testament to how well he knew me, and how much he had changed – was still changing – since our relationship had moved from teacher-student to friends to sharing quarters as romantic partners, that he made no such attempt at that moment. Instead, he chose reassurance first, reaching for my free hand and covering it with his own.

As always, I had a moment where I was struck with the contrast in our skin tones – his white-gold, mine faintly olive, the last remnants of my Risan tan fading in the ship's artificial light. I turned my hand beneath his, and we laced our fingers together.

"If I knew what Lore's objective was, Zoe, I would share it with you, if only because I know that you would 'obsess' over it otherwise. It is possible that he wishes merely to goad you. It is equally possible that in targeting you his intent is to spur me into some action."

"He does seem to think the two of you should be a team. Is it his twisted manifestation of the same desires you have, do you think? Acceptance, belonging, family?"

"Perhaps," my boyfriend answered lightly, but rather than allow our discussion to continue, he lowered his voice to a more soothing tone. "Zoe, dearest, may I suggest that we 'table' this discussion for now? I must be on the bridge in less than an hour, and I do not wish you to experience nightmares when I cannot be present."

For half a second I considered arguing with him, but it was one of the times when his tendency to be right was in my best interest. My sleep had already been fitful for days, and we both knew why: we were approaching the anniversary of when Lore had plucked me from Melona, held me captive for three days, and raped me. I knew Data was expecting me to talk about it, but I had been trying to avoid the subject. Talking about it only brought it all back.

"Sometimes," I mock-grumbled, "it annoys me that you know me so well."

"Do you not have a similarly intimate understanding with regard to myself?" he countered.

"Touché," I laughed. "You have a birthday we need to talk about. Sunday. Anything special you want to do?"

"You know that I was not actually 'born,' Zoe,"

"Details, details. It's the anniversary of your permanent, active presence among the living, and it should be celebrated, or at least… marked… I guess. We don't have to have a full-on party…"

"I would prefer not to."

"But can't we do something just a little bit special?"

"It is not necessary," he reiterated. I wasn't sure why he was so against celebrating himself.

"Was celebrating my birthday 'necessary?'" I challenged.

"Perhaps not in the strictest sense of – " Realization crossed his face. "Ah, I see. Very well, Zoe, you may plan something 'a little bit special.'" He glanced away from my satisfied grin to the meal I'd given up eating. "If you are finished, perhaps we could relocate for some 'couch time' before my duty shift begins."

"You just want the last thing I remember before bed to be your arms around me," I accused.

"It is possible," he agreed, teasing me a little, "that I want the scent of your hair and the texture of your lips among the most recent items in my memory before I 'go to work.'"

I laughed at that. "You can be such a flirt, sometimes, Data." But I got up to recycle my dishes and move toward the couch.

"Is it flirting, Zoe, when I am certain that the woman receiving my attentions will be waiting in bed when I return home?"

I arched an eyebrow at him. "Certain, huh?"

He caught me by the waist, and whirled me to face him, lowering his lips to mine for a kiss that was far more heated than the one we'd shared before my bath. "Certain, sure, definite, undeniable, irrefutable, indubitable…"

I cut him off with another kiss, during which he sat on the couch and lifted me onto his lap. "You know, Mister Data," I said, when we paused for breath, "I had it on good authority that as an android, you weren't supposed to want this kind of intimacy."

"I believe, Ms. Harris," he answered, matching my teasing tone on the first four words he spoke, but transitioning into one that was much more serious, "that my neuro-pathways have grown accustomed to the stimulus they receive when I share these moments with you."

"And stimulus causes growth?"

"Exactly."

"So, if we continue…?"

Data didn't answer me with words, just tangled his hands into my hair – he practically fetishized my hair – and claimed my mouth again. I wondered just how many of his 'multiple techniques' were just different ways to kiss.

The hours from midnight to eight hundred hours had never seemed so long.

(=A=)

Stardate 46088.42

(Sunday, 02 February 2369, 06:37 hours, ship's time)

I was in bed reading when I heard the door to our quarters open and shut, followed by the soft tread of my partner's feet as he crossed our living room and entered our bedroom. It always amazed me how someone who was so massive for his height could move so gently. Super android stealth, I supposed.

"Hey, Birthday Boy… glad you're home." Technically, of course, Data didn't have a birthday, but it was the thirty-first anniversary of his permanent activation, and as I had insisted the occasion at least be marked, I felt that I had the right to tease him about it. A little.

"'Birthday Boy?'" he asked, but he moved on without waiting for my response. "It is very early. Are you 'just' awake or 'still?'"

It was a fair question. "'Activation Day Boy' sounds weird," I said. "And it's more the latter than the former. " This last was uttered in a sheepish tone. I hadn't been sleeping well since my own birthday, and we both knew why. "Your schedule is still clear tonight, right?"

"It is," he confirmed.

"Good, because Geordi is meeting us on Holodeck Three at nineteen hundred hours." I set my padd aside and slid down in the bed. "Of course, there are some other, more intimate ways we could celebrate."

The mattress dipped under Data's weight as he slid his nude body underneath the covers. "I should not encourage you to give up sleep," he observed. I rolled to face him, and found his warm yellow eyes looking back at me.

"After the holodeck, then," I said, trying not to yawn in his face.

"It is a date," he agreed softly.

"Yes, it is." I put a flat hand against his chest and leaned forward to kiss him, then rolled over again.

Data curled his body around mine, and let his hand come to rest on my breast. "I am here," he told me, the words a whisper punctuated by a light kiss to my bare shoulder. "It is safe for you to sleep now, dearest."

I smiled into the velvet darkness of our bedroom. "I love you, too," I said, and then added, because I had to, "Birthday Boy."

(=A=)

Stardate 46089.88

(Sunday, 2 February 2369, 19:21 hours, ship's time)

Thanks to a warning from Ray, who was doing a shift at Tactical that day, I intercepted Data on his way from the bridge to the holodeck and asked him to come home. I saw him take in the simple black dress and heels I was wearing, along with the pearls he'd given to me before I'd left the ship the previous May, and the earrings that had been my first-ever Christmas gift from him.

"Zoe," he asked. "Are we not meeting Geordi for a holodeck adventure?"

"We've had a change of plans," I said. "We're having dinner with the O'Briens, and afterward, if it's not too late, I thought we'd have video night. We haven't had one since before Christmas." I hesitated. "Do you mind?"

"I do not mind, but I am confused. Why did you alter the original plan?"

"I'll explain while you change," I said, directing his attention to the clothes I'd set out for him – the close-fitting red sweater and the soft black trousers that always drew my attention to his ass. Somewhat reluctantly, I turned away while he exchanged his uniform for civilian clothes, using the time to retrieve something I'd left on our dining table. Returning to the bedroom, as Data was pulling the shirt over his head, I was struck by a wave of attraction mixed with affection. God, I love this man, I thought. "Here," I said, tossing the wrapped object toward him."

Long, gold fingers plucked the small square box out of the air and lifted the lid. "You have given me a candle."

"It's not just any candle," I explained. "It's a yahrzeit candle." I watched him process the word, and cross-reference it, and I practically saw the split-second decision to let me continue with what I was going to say. "I know you're not Jewish, and I'm certainly not, but we both know your father was, and I thought… it felt appropriate to adopt this tradition, though we probably shouldn't actually light it until we get back from dinner."

It was obvious from Data's expression that he comprehended what I was attempting to convey. "This is why we are spending the evening more quietly than you wished," he stated.

I made a half-half shrug. "I forgot. I forgot that it's not just your birthday. That's it's also the day he died. I… playing on the holodeck just seemed wrong. Besides, the O'Briens are your only married friends, and while we're not… it's good to spend time with another couple from time to time."

Data set the candle and the empty box on his nightstand. I expected him to simply leave the bedroom, but he surprised me, by drawing me into his arms, and kissing the top of my head. "Thank you, Zoe."

To the casual observer, his words would have seemed completely devoid of any emotion. To me? There was just enough inflection in his expression of gratitude to convey what I meant to him.

(=A=)

Stardate 46090.19

(Sunday, 2 February 2369, 22:04 hours, ship's time)

"Admit it, Data," Keiko teased my partner as her husband refilled my wine glass. "Being in a relationship has changed you."

"I have never denied it," he responded guilelessly. "Though I believe it 'goes both ways.' Zoe and I are good for each other."

My melting heart was tempered by a guffaw from Miles. "Well played, Data," he said, laughing and shaking his head. "The perfect answer. Who'd have ever believed that the man who thought reading about poker would prepare him for playing would wind up being so smooth?"

I glanced from Data's warm gold eyes to Miles's mischievous blue ones, then looked up at the transporter chief's wife. "What, he didn't always have super android poker prowess?"

Keiko rolled her eyes. "Not this story again…"

"It's a good story," her husband protested.

"How about you tell it, and I'll decide?" I suggested.

Keiko began gathering our used dinner plates to put in the recycler, and Data quietly got up to help as the transporter chief told me about their first poker game. "Commander Riker had invited several of us to play, and this one showed up wearing one of those visors you only see in bad video entertainments…" He had gestured toward the android on the words 'this one.'

I had to grin at that. "I've seen that visor. He refuses to let me try it on."

"I do not refuse," Data objected good-naturedly. "I simply remind you that commonly accepted mythos says that it is 'bad luck' for another person to wear it." He returned to his chair, scooting it closer to mine and draping his arm around my shoulders.

"I'm not 'another person,'" I argued. "I'm your girlfriend. 'Commonly accepted mythos' is that if you let me try it on, it would improve your luck."

"Hm." Data's signature non-verbal reaction always made me smile. "Perhaps we will have to test your theory."

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Keiko's poor attempt to hide her smirk.

"Perhaps we will," I agreed, a note of challenge in my voice. I turned to Miles, "Sorry. You were saying?"

But the chief was chuckling at Data and me, and it took him a second to regain enough composure to continue. "So, he starts spouting off all this nonsense about how he's researched poker and there are limited variables as there are only a certain number of cards and only some of them in play at any time, and therefore it should be statistically simple to succeed at the game."

"I'm guessing he didn't? Succeed I mean?"

"Let's just say a certain gold pigeon was well and duly plucked."

"Pigeon?" The word made me shiver, and the hand I'd outstretched to pick up my wine glass flinched. The glass tipped over, and I jumped back. "I'm sorry," I said. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry."

Rivulets of chardonnay were making their way over the tablecloth.

"It's fine," Keiko said soothingly. "It's just wine, Zoe."

Data's arm tightened around me, then released. "Will you be alright?" he asked softly, "Or would you prefer to leave?"

Our hosts were staring at me, Keiko with quiet awareness, and Miles with the kind of confusion men often had when a woman they knew was distressed, and they perceived themselves to be at fault. "Zoe, whatever I said."

"I'm sorry," I said again, using my crumpled napkin to help blot up the wine. "I just… He calls me pigeon, and I've been kind of jumpy since my birthday, and I don't react well to the word… pathetic, I know…" My grin was both rueful and apologetic.

"Now, now, there's nothing to be sorry for." The chief's Irish accented thickened slightly, and in that instant, I could really see why Keiko had fallen for him, because all of the cockiness was gone and in its place was a gentle soul. "I didn't know…"

I shook my head. "Even if you had… it's not like I can ask the entire universe to avoid talking about one of Earth's most common birds, you know?" My grin that time was a bit closer to baseline-Zoe. "So how much, exactly, did Data lose?"

"Oh, thousands," Miles responded, finding his inherent good humor again. "Pretty sure if we played for credits rather than points, he'd still be in debt."

"Quite the contrary," Data countered. "By the third game we played, I was already as apt to win as anyone else." He turned to me, and deadpanned, "I am told I have the 'ultimate poker face.'"

I shook my head. "You have the ultimate something, that's for sure," I teased. I leaned toward him and met his lips with mine in a brief kiss. "I'm okay," I added softly. "Promise."

His acknowledgement was wordless.

"Alright, you two," Keiko interrupted, her voice, "why don't we move into the living room for dessert."

I'd told Keiko it was Data's birthday, of course, so I wasn't surprised when the coffee Miles brought to the long, low table in front of their couch was followed with her own presentation: a frosted cupcake for each of us, with a single candle in the one she set in front of my partner.

"Happy birthday, Data," she said. "Zoe told us you didn't want a fuss, but we had to do something."

"Thank you," he said. "This is…" He glanced at me, and then back at Keiko. "This is a fitting commemoration. I am honored."

We refrained from singing to him, but we did make him blow out the candle. As I expected, Data took a single bite of the cupcake and offered the rest to me, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I devoured it.

The party was already breaking up when Molly's fussing could be heard emanating from the bedroom. "That's my cue," Keiko said. "Data, Zoe, thank you for coming."

"Thank you for having us," I said. The older woman offered me a sisterly embrace that I accepted, and then Miles pulled me into a bear hug while Keiko insisted on hugging Data, before she ushered us out and went to tend her child.

(=A=)

Stardate 46090.42

(Monday, 3 February 2369, 00:07 hours, ship's time)

"That was nice," I said and kicked off my shoes. "I feel bad that you were teased so much." I flopped onto the bed, still in my dress, and then rolled to one side and propped my head on my hand. "You seemed to enjoy it, though."

"Like you, Keiko and Miles tease me as a way to express their affection. I do not mind it."

"Yes, but still…"

Data surprised me by slipping off his own footwear and joining me on the bed, mirroring my position. His hand went to my waist. "Did you fail to notice that I 'gave as good as I got?'" he asked. "Did you also fail to perceive that they were teasing us, as a couple?"

I blushed. "No, I'd noticed both of those things, I just…"

"You are protective of me," he said, "As I am of you, each of us in our own way."

"Yeah, that," I agreed.

"I observed something else about you this evening," Data continued. "May I share it?"

"Sure," I said, surprised.

"You were much more at ease with the O'Briens than you typically are when we socialize with my friends and colleagues among the command staff."

It's really difficult to deny things when your partner's golden eyes are holding your gaze. "Yeah," I said. "I mean, yes, I was. I am."

"Why?"

"Excuse me?"

"I am curious as to why you are more comfortable with people you have a lesser degree of familiarity with."

"It's not so much familiarity as parity," I told him after a long moment. "Parity in more than one way. First, like me, Keiko is a civilian. And, okay, Miles isn't an officer; he's enlisted, but that's really not all that relevant in this situation." I paused to compose my next few sentences, then elaborated. "They're also a couple. In fact, of all your friends, they're the only people in a permanent relationship, or even a long-term one. Everyone else is single."

"I see," Data said, in the way that meant he was cataloguing my responses for later analysis. "Is there more?"

"Yes. There's also… you're a decorated officer. You and the captain and Geordi and Will and Dr. Crusher, and even Counselor Troi – you are all – incredibly accomplished officers. I'm still learning to see most of your friends as 'just people' and not 'big damned heroes,' and at the same time, they're still learning to see me as something more than your young friend and musical protégé."

"They make you uncomfortable?" he asked.

"Only a little, and less so every time we socialize, but the feeling that they'd rather not have some eighteen-year-old kid hanging around is going to take a while to go away."

"That would seem to be an emotional response, rather than an intellectual one," he commented.

"It is," I agreed. "And it's one that I'm working on, I promise." Data seemed to accept my statement, or at least, he realized there was nowhere else to go with that topic at that moment, so I changed tacks slightly. "I said before that we should find other couples to socialize with, but I also think… I think we need to socialize more as a couple, even if I am a little anxious around your friends."

"There are several shipboard events coming up which are typically attended with a 'date,'" he revealed. "Some are social, while others are official. I believe you would enjoy most of them, and the official events would dovetail with your internship in the protocol office."

"Lasso's already got me learning everything there is to know about the Muthari," I confessed. "I think he's planning their visit to the ship to be some kind of a test for me."

"As the young woman about to become the ceremonial head of their government is roughly your age, it would seem a likely choice for your first 'official' assignment. However, there is a social occasion quite soon that I would like you to attend with me."

"Oh? What is it?"

"Guinan is hosting a Valentine's Day dance in Ten-Forward. If you are uncomfortable with celebrating the holiday because of what happened last year – "

"I… " I wanted to accept his invitation, but memories of how the day had ended, and what had come after flooded into my head. I pushed them aside. "Can I think about it?" I knew I'd disappointed him with my lack of enthusiasm. "I'm just... it's a tough day for me, and I don't want to say yes and then melt down, so... let me think about it, but more than likely we'll go." I leaned closer so I could kiss him. "I like dancing with you," I said. His golden eyes seemed to flash for an instant, and he rolled onto his back, pulling me on top of him. "Data!" I laughed, surprised.

"It is very late," he said. "And while I know you have already selected a video, I believe there are better ways to spend the time before you must sleep."

While Data was often the initiator of kisses and seemed to find endless fascination in his continuing tactile explorations of everything from my hair to the tips of my toes, it was rare for him to suggest sex. We sat up together, me moving into a straddling position on his lap, him reaching for the fastening at the back of my dress.

I captured his lips in a heated kiss as my own hands found the waistband of his trousers and worked it open. It took some negotiation – neither of us wanted to let go of the other – but finally his clothes were gone, and I was wearing only the jewelry he'd given me over the years.

Our joining that night was fast and intense and satisfying in a way that quite literally made my toes curl, and when we had finished, and I lay panting on our bed, I watched his pale-gold form as he left the room long enough to retrieve a lighter, which he used to spark the candle into a soft glow.

Data returned to the bed, and I moved to rest my head on his chest. I fell asleep watching the flame flicker in the glass holder, and I've never been certain just how long my lover continued to stare at it. When I woke in the morning, Data had an optical cable attached to the side of his head and by the time I'd showered and dressed for the day, he'd moved the candle to the coffee table in our living room.

(=A=)

Stardate 46104.76

(Saturday, 8 February 2369, 05:43 hours, ship's time)

I was dreaming.

First, I was watching Data and his friends play poker. I couldn't hear the bets or see the cards, I only saw the chips being exchanged: bronze, silver, gold. Then the piles of chips began to morph into other shapes… birds… pigeons…clockwork pigeons.

"Time to pluck a pigeon," the dream version of Miles O'Brien looked up and winked at me.

"Get me out of here…"

The scene changed.

I was on a sailboat – the Intrepid, from my birthday.

The waves were choppy, and the boat was drifting, rather than being at anchor. The clockwork pigeon was perched on the rail, its bright black eyes staring at me, first one, then the other, as the metal head turned back and forth. I reached to pick it up, determined to sink it so deeply into the ocean that I'd never have to see it again, but then the coppery beak opened, and it started talking.

It started talking in the same mad voice that Lore had used when we were on his ship almost a year before. "You're really not a little girl anymore. Poor broken bird. Pigeons come home to roost. That pigeon was duly plucked. Poor broken bird. Lore can't have nice things."

It was a mash-up of the words he'd spoken after he'd raped me, after the Crystalline Entity had exploded, after he'd completely snapped, and of the note he'd sent with the actual bird that had arrived on my birthday.

"Shut up!"

But the bird kept talking, repeating the same phrases on a loop, mixing in the chief's phrases, even though he'd had nothing to do with anything. "Time to pluck a pigeon… time to pluck…. Time to…"

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

I reached for the pigeon, felt the beak pecking at my hand as I tried to grasp it. Finally, I managed to summon the necessary energy to hurl the thing into the black water, but the words still haunted me.

"… not a little girl… broken bird… Pigeons come home to roost…Pluck a pigeon… not a little girl…"

"SHUT UP!"

"Zoe, wake up. Zoe you are dreaming; please wake up." Data's ever-patient tone brought me out of my dream. "Zoe, you are home. I am here. Please wake up."

I opened my eyes and saw his face hovering over me. "I'm okay," I said forcing myself to take a couple of deep breaths. "I'm awake. I'm okay."

"No, you are not." Data's tone was firm, but gentle. "You have been sleeping poorly since the night of your birthday, and while this is not the first nightmare I have roused you from in that time, the frequency of your bad dreams is increasing. I believe that the toy bird Lore sent has spurred a greater awareness of the anniversary of what happened after you were taken from Melona, and your subconscious is trying to 'process' that awareness."

Even androids avoid specifics when they suspect using them would cause distress. Melona wasn't just the planet Lore had snatched me from, but the code-word we used for what had come afterward.

I sighed. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"Do you wish to tell me what you dreamed?" Talking about my nightmares with him usually helped, but lately I hadn't wanted to analyze them, rehash them, or even admit I was having them. I wanted to just ignore them and focus on the present.

"Not really," I said, the words coming out in a sharper tone than I'd meant. "I'm sorry, Data. I know you're just trying to help, and I love you for it, but I'm just… I don't want to give him one more second of conscious thought, and I don't want to talk about it."

For a moment, I thought he would argue with me. Instead, he laid back in the bed, and gathered me against him, kissing the top of my head. "Then I believe you should try to return to sleep. You were visibly exhausted yesterday at dinner, and I am… concerned."

I yawned. "I am tired," I admitted. I snuggled against him, resting my head against his chest. Dimly, I realized there were a couple of padds on the nightstand on his side of the bed, and one more in the bed with us. "I'm sorry I disturbed you."

"You disturbed nothing, but I am sorry that your sleep is being interrupted so often. I believe discussing your nightmares would help you conquer them, but I will not force you. However, Zoe, I will remind you that I will be here when you are ready."

"I know," I said softly.

One of his arms wrapped around me. "I am devoted to you."

"I love you," I told him again. I did my best to go back to sleep, but I kept drifting back toward nightmares and waking myself up, and I knew Data was aware of, and probably logging, every single instance.

(=A=)

Stardate 46113.86

(Tuesday, 11 February 2369, 13:29 hours, ship's time)

"You look like you could use some company. May I join you?" I looked up from the padd that was keeping me company during a late lunch in Ten-Forward, to find Guinan and one of her hats hovering near my table. I hadn't been in the mood for company, but neither had I really wanted to eat alone, so I'd chosen a table near the large window, and settled in for a late lunch and the reading that represented my internship supervisor's version of homework. Now my public solitude was being interrupted by the inscrutable barkeeper.

"Sure," I answered, moving aside a reading tablet and relocating my messenger bag to an unused chair.

"Thank you," she responded warmly, settling into the chair opposite mine. A server appeared the moment she was settled, and she ordered a cup of tea, then stared at me for a long moment. "Make it a pot and bring a cup for Zoe as well." She paused while the server scurried away, then continued "I always enjoy the view from this window."

I had no idea why that was relevant to anything, but I found myself responding anyway. "I feel like sitting here is the only way to see where we're going." I moved my eyes - not really rolling them, but in a gesture of acknowledgement. "Well, other than being on the bridge, I mean."

"Is it that important? Knowing where we're going?"

"Don't you think so?"

"I think it depends on whether or not you're looking forward in order to welcome what's coming, or because you want to defend against it."

"What if it's…" I began, but our tea arrived, and I waited for the server to place the pot and paraphernalia on the table and disappear again before continuing, "… kind of both?" She remained silent, clearly waiting for me to talk so she could Listen. (Somehow, that word was always capitalized when used with her.) "I mean… I'm excited about all the things that are coming – this internship, Yale, my future with Data… but at the same time, I feel like there's something lurking in the shadows."

"You mean Lore."

Something about Guinan killed my inherent urge to hide behind snark. "Among other things."

"Does Data believe you should be worried about Lore?"

I shook my head. "He thinks Lore is just playing mind games with me, and that he's the target this time. Which may be better for me, personally, but not for us."

Guinan's dark eyes seemed to glitter, though her expression was as serene as ever. "Do you remember the first piece of advice I gave you?"

"You told me to trust myself, and trust Data."

"And?"

"And what? I do trust him."

"But you're not talking to him right now."

"He told you?"

"He may have asked for advice."

"Did you tell him to trust me?"

"No, I told him to invite you to the Valentine's Day dance I'm hosting."

"He did that," I confessed. "I told him I needed to think about it."

"And?" She was even better than Counselor Troi at asking leading questions.

"And what?"

"Have you thought about it?"

"I…" The truth was that I couldn't think of a reason not to go, except that every time I considered it, there was this big block of fear almost choking me. "I'm afraid," I admitted. "And I don't know why. I mean, we've been in public together, socially, tons of times. We were all over the media last fall."

"Maybe it's not the event, but the day…"

"Valentine's Day? It's the anniversary of what happened on Melona, yes, but… I mean he didn't grab me until the day after."

Guinan shrugged. "Maybe I'm wrong. I think you should come to the dance, though, Zoe. For Data, if not for yourself."

"For Data?"

"It's the first significant social event that you've been here for since the two of you became a couple. He was on an away mission over Christmas. You were on tour when we thought we'd lost Geordi."

I nodded. "And as a member of the command staff, he has to at least make an appearance. He's the only one who has a… partner… it would look bad if I don't go with him. I know that. I also know Data doesn't care one whit about optics."

"But he does care about being human. He does care about experiencing typical human rituals."

I hadn't actually needed Guinan to point that out. "I know this," I answered, snarking a little bit, after all. "I'm sorry," I apologized immediately. "I'm overtired and over-thinking this. It's just a dance, right? I like dancing with Data." I pushed the mostly ignored teacup away from me and gathered my things. "Thanks for the chat," I said, "I need to get going."

"I'll see you on Friday night," Guinan said in the way that was both completely casual and utterly not.

(=A=)

Stardate 46121.36

(Friday, 14 February 2369, 07:12 hours, ship's time)

As the week had drawn on and the dance grew closer, my sleep had come more and more fitful, to the point where I was beginning to feel like one of the zombies in the horror vids I used to love. Half the time I was having nightmares and the other half I was avoiding sleep so that I wouldn't have nightmares.

It's a scary thing to know that you've caused an android to be worried. Data wasn't pressing me to spill my guts to him - if anything he was practicing a sort of active patience with me – but I could tell he wanted to make me talk, if only so that he could fix things.

Instead, I got even quieter, even more internal, and he grew more and more concerned. I was fairly certain he'd gone to Counselor Troi, but he hadn't said so, and she hadn't contacted me. I knew things would come to a head, eventually, but I didn't know how to talk about things that weren't even entirely conscious.

Valentine's Day morning I woke up to the sound of Data's singing. Unlike me, he didn't typically sing in the shower, and he didn't hum while he was doing things, despite the fact that of the two of us, he was better equipped for such multitasking. When he was singing, it was because he meant to be singing, and in this case, it was a love song that eased me out of the sleep I'd finally sunken into around four-thirty.

"What good are words I say to you?
They can't convey to you what's in my heart.
If you could hear instead
The things I've left unsaid…"

I grabbed my cast-off sweatpants from the foot of our bed and tugged them on beneath the t-shirt I'd slept in, then padded out to the main room. Data glanced at me, and for a fraction of a second it was as if I was being hit by the full force of his devotion.

He paused long enough for me to realize he was going to greet me, but I interrupted. "Please don't stop singing? I love it when you sing."

There was the tiniest acknowledging nod and then he continued with the song, though he pressed a mug of coffee into my hand and nudged me toward the couch while my personal serenade continued.

"Time after time
I tell myself that I'm
So lucky to be loving you…"

There was a vase of irises waiting on the table, as well as a small, square box. As soon as I saw it, I set my mug down and went to one of the drawers in the living room wall – the one that had become mine – and retrieved a box of my own. I exchanged it for my coffee mug and sat on the couch to sip the dark brew and listen to the rest of my boyfriend's song.

"I only know what I know.
The passing years will show
You've kept my love so young, so new-

And time after time,
You'll hear me say that I'm
So lucky to be loving you."

He didn't finish with a crescendo but softened the song into something intimate as he came to sit with me. "Happy Valentine's Day, Zoe," he added.

I answered with a coffee-stained kiss, then rested my head against his. "I don't deserve this," I said.

"Zoe?" He was honestly puzzled.

"I don't deserve presents and flowers and singing and sweetness when I'm about to disappoint you. I want to go to the dance with you tonight. I really do. But I can't."

His expression was as dejected as I'd ever seen him. "Why? I will not push you to attend, but Zoe… dearest… please explain why?"

I knew he was confused and all I wanted was to erase that confusion. My mind went blank. "I don't… " I started to say. But all of a sudden, I did know. "I can't go because people will die," I blurted. "Last year, I went with you to Melona, and Lore came with Phil, and people died, and it's my fault."

If my words surprised him, Data didn't show it. If anything, he seemed to almost expect what I'd said. "It was not your fault," he told me firmly. "Zoe, there is no way it could have been your fault. If Lore was tracking anyone to Melona, it was me, not you."

"No, Data, you're wrong." I'd forgotten. In the year since everything had happened, I'd had constant memories of being called pigeon and of being tossed around the deck of that ship, and of every single thing Lore had done to me, but I'd forgotten, until Data tried to assure me otherwise, of the other android's reaction. "He didn't know. Lore didn't have any idea you were on Melona. When I told him he and his… Phil… had almost killed you, he had… he didn't have a clue."

"I do not remember you mentioning that," he said. "Zoe, are you certain?"

"I didn't remember. I didn't remember until I told you why I can't go. Data, I'm a jinx. I'm a curse. I was on the Starbase and Lore set the bomb anyway, and then on Melona… I was there… and people died and it's my fault. It's all my fault."

I was crying and I knew I wasn't making sense, and Data's pale, gold face conveyed that he was at a loss of how to help me. "If I go to the party, something else will happen. People will die, and it will be my fault."

"Zoe, you are hysterical…" He pulled me close, holding my arms so I couldn't flail at him, speaking reassurances I couldn't even track. "It was not your fault. None of it was your fault. Zoe, please calm down. Breathe. Zoe… breathe!"

But I couldn't breathe. I felt like my throat was shrinking. Closing. In the back of my mind, I knew I was having a panic attack, but the intellectual knowledge wasn't remotely helpful. Dimly, I realized Data was calling for medical assistance and asking the counselor to meet us there, but then my vision was blanking out and my head was spinning.

(=A=)

Stardate 46121.86

(Friday, 14 February 2369, 11:33 hours, ship's time)

I opened my eyes half-expecting to find myself in a sickbay bio-bed, but instead I saw the familiar lines of the bedroom I shared with my partner. "Data…?" I called into the dimly lit room.

"He was called to the bridge, Zoe, but he'll be back shortly." Dr. Crusher's reassuring smile came into view as she sat on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

I took stock. "Thirsty," I said. "And my head hurts a little."

"Think you can sit up?"

I gave a tiny nod, and then pushed myself into a seated position, my back against the pillows. "I felt like I was choking," I said. "And I think I threw up."

"As far as I can tell, you had a panic attack. Stay put a moment." She left the room, and I heard the hum of the replicator and the sound of her voice and someone else's. Counselor Troi's, I realized when the doctor returned with water. "Drink this."

I took a careful sip, but it was just cool water, so I drank more of it, a bit more aggressively. "Thanks," I said. "Is Data…" I was about to ask if he was angry with me, but I knew he couldn't actually be angry.

"He was very worried about you, but the captain needed him on the bridge. Deanna just contacted him, and he's on his way home." I nodded again, and she continued. "Have you had this happen before?"

I shook my head. "No, I don't…" but then I remembered. "No, that's wrong. Once. I had it happen once… last year… about a week after Lore…" I stopped. "When Data took the tongue stud out," I explained.

Apparently, it was enough.

"Well, you're a little dehydrated, but my bigger concern is that you give every sign of being exhausted. Data said you haven't been sleeping well; how long has that been going on?"

"Since my birthday," I admitted. "But steadily worse as it's gotten closer to today."

"Oh, Zoe, why didn't you come see me?"

"I thought I could handle it. And I didn't want people fussing over me." I rolled my eyes. "Kind of had enough of that last year."

Her smile held humor this time. "I can understand that, I suppose." She ran her tricorder over me again, then popped it back into her case. "I should give you a sedative to ensure that you sleep, but I have a feeling you'll be able to, now that you've let out whatever you were keeping inside. I'm going to go, but I'm sending the Counselor in, and I urge you to cooperate with her." The last few words had that warning tone that my mother used to get when I was thinking of misbehaving. "And don't be angry with Data, Zoe. He was right to call."

I nodded again. "I'm not angry with him. I'm worried he's disappointed in me."

"He isn't," the counselor chimed in from the doorway. "Do you mind talking with me a while, Zoe?"

I glanced at the doctor first, before I snarked. "Do I have a choice?" But I was kidding. Mostly.

The doctor patted my knee through the covers. "That's my cue. Call me if you need anything."

"I will."

She left the room, and the counselor came closer.

"May I sit?"

"Sure."

Troi took the spot the doctor had been occupying. "You've been avoiding me since your birthday," she said with no judgement in her tone. "Have I done something to cause you not to trust me?"

"Not exactly," I said.

"Can you explain?"

I drank some more water, forming the words I wanted to say. "First, I was just… I was home, and I hadn't even had a bad dream since September, and except for when we found the stupid bird, I was fine. And then that ambassador hurt you, and I didn't know if I should visit as a sort of friend, or if I should wait until you were better, and finally… you always want me to talk about things, and I'm so tired of talking about Lore. I feel like he raped my whole life… and it's been a year… and I was better."

"You've been doing extremely well," she agreed. "At least until recently."

"I was better," I repeated. "I managed to get through everything over the summer without help, and then he sent that thing, and everything went wonky in my head…" I paused. "And I wanted to come see you, but you were the one who sent me to Gratz."

"Gratz… the therapist on Earth?"

"For those values of 'therapist' that equal 'complete and total asshole,'" I confirmed.

"Oh, Zoe. I didn't know… I didn't know he was a confrontational therapist, and I certainly didn't know he would pick apart your relationship with Data. If I'd thought for one moment that he would, I'd never have given you his name."

"But he did," I said. "And he made me… he made me question it. And I had been better. I am better." I felt myself dissolving into tears again.

"You are better than you were," the counselor said soothingly. "Zoe, you are. But what you went through – it takes years for most people to get completely over it, and some people never do."

I swallowed back the tears. "I'm supposed to be an adult now," I said. "Aren't I supposed to be stronger than this?"

"You are strong." Data's voice, from the bedroom door. I hadn't even heard him come home. "May I enter?"

"It's your bedroom, too," I reminded him, but the words came out wavery.

Data crossed the room and came to sit next to me, his back also against the pillows. I could almost see him make the decision to drop his officer persona and just be boyfriend-Data. His arm went around my shoulders, and he placed a kiss on top of my head. "I am sorry I had to leave while you were… indisposed."

I glanced from the counselor to my partner. "It's okay. I haven't really been awake that long. Only enough for the doctor to lecture me about sleep deprivation."

The counselor met Data's eyes over my head. Then she returned her focus to me. "Zoe, Data mentioned that you feel to blame for the deaths of the two colonists on Melona. I know that we talked at length about what happened while you were with Lore, but maybe I should have backtracked. I think we all forgot that you aren't an officer. Data said you remained calm and poised throughout the evacuation."

"I heard their screams," I said. "All the kids had their parents hugging them, and I couldn't get those screams out of my head, and… I don't think I even processed it… I didn't know it was still a thing until Data invited me to the dance and I didn't immediately jump at it."

"I am afraid that I did not recognize your lack of enthusiasm as a 'warning sign,'" the android added. "Even after our conversation about socializing more as a couple." He hesitated. "I assumed you were merely being coy."

"Hi, how long have we been a couple?" I twisted around to put a finger across his lips. "Don't answer that. But Data, when have I ever been coy with you?"

I saw the counselor arch an eyebrow and was willing to bet that she was stifling laughter. She schooled her features, though, and said. "Zoe, I'm very sorry that I wasn't clear earlier. I do consider you a friend, and I would have welcomed a visit from you when I was recuperating. I'm also sorry that we never discussed the actual attack on Melona, last year. We know now that you have unresolved guilt over what happened, but I promise it was not your fault."

I closed my eyes for a long moment, and just concentrated on feeling Data's arm around me, strong and supportive. When I opened my eyes again, I felt much more centered. "Does this mean I'm seeing you on Thursday afternoons again?"

"Do you want to see me on Thursday afternoons?"

I considered it for a long moment. "I guess you're right about how long it takes to heal," I finally began. "Most days I'm fine, but then something will send me into a spiral, and while Data is pretty awesome –" I felt, rather than heard, his non-verbal reaction. "- he can't be my only support system. I'm not going to say I'll never need counseling again, but I think… I think maybe, if you don't mind, what I really need is a friend who isn't either Data's student or an extreme subordinate."

The counselor smiled. "I think that's a very adult point of view. Shall we set up a lunch date for Monday?"

I laughed softly. "Tuesday would actually be better for me."

"Alright then…" she got up. "Tuesday it is." She glanced at Data. "Don't get up," she told him. "I'll see you both at the dance?"

Data deferred to me for a response. "We'll be there," I promised. "And Couns – Deanna -?" She gave me her wide-eyed 'encouraging' look from the doorway. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Zoe. Data."

(=A=)

Stardate 46123.20

(Friday, 14 February 2369, 23:17 hours, ship's time)

We spent most of the afternoon at home. Lasso had given me the day off anyway, and while Data did leave to attend to things on the bridge every so often, he worked from the console in our quarters most of the day.

At six, we paused to exchange gifts. My present for him was a data solid with an original Sherlock Holmes adventure – The Case of the Exsanguinated Actress – that Lachlan and a couple of the other members of Idyllwild had helped me write during the down time on tour. "Moriarty isn't in it," I promised him, having long since been told the story of the holographic villain. "But Irene Adler might be."

"I shall look forward to it," he had responded, the gleam in his eye telling me just how much.

His gift to me was jewelry again, and after I had opened it, I had watched his fingers release the cords on the string of beads he'd first fastened around my wrist a little more than two years before. "Data?"

"These beads were given to the girl you were two years ago," he said. "They commemorated your sixteenth birthday and marked a deepening friendship. More than once, in the last year, you have had to remove them because they were no longer appropriate for the woman you have become. I do not expect you to put them away forever, but I would like to offer this as a more suitable adornment."

His formal language both made me grin, and set my imagination spinning toward another kind of jewelry he would likely be presenting to me one day. The gold tennis bracelet he wrapped around my wrist had made my breath catch when I saw it nestled against the velvet in the box, but when he fastened it in place my pulse increased, and I knew he could feel it as much as I could.

"Data, it's beautiful. Thank you." I pulled his face to mine so I could kiss him, and we ended up rumpled (both of us) and breathless (me) on the couch with just enough time to change into party clothes and make an appearance in Ten-Forward.

Deanna, I noticed, was watching me carefully the whole time we were there, as if she wanted to make sure I was going to be alright.

We shared a dinner table with the O'Briens, Geordi, and Christy Henshaw, danced several dances, including a slightly risqué tango, and then Data guided me back out to the corridor. "If you are amenable," he began. "I would like to show you something on the bridge before we go back to our quarters."

A year ago, I would have balked about that, but ever since my visit in October, I'd become more and more interested in seeing Data's primary workplace. "Sure," I said, trying to sound casual and failing.

"Late night, Mr. Data?" Commander Riker asked, but he noticed me before my partner could respond. "Ah. You want to show Zoe the view. Enjoy."

We took positions behind the horseshoe that cradled the command chairs, and Data asked the duty ensign at ops to show the forward view of the ship. There on the screen was a giant swath of solid black, which resolved into a curved surface. "We arrived here less than an hour ago," he explained quietly. "We were tracking a seventy-five-year-old distress signal, and it led us to this. It seems to be a Dyson sphere," he added. "It is essentially a self-contained solar system – there is a sun inside the sphere."

"Cooooool." I breathed, keeping my voice low.

"Seeing such a creation is a once-in-a-lifetime experience," he told me. "I wished for you to share it with me, in some fashion."

We lingered a few minutes longer, but when the lights dimmed and the shift change occurred at midnight, we made our way out.

"Thank you," I said, looping my hands through his proffered arm. "For the view, and the bracelet, and your patience, and for…"

We stepped into the turbo-lift and he met my lips in a kiss.

"… everything."

I wish I could say that my sleep that night was nightmare free, but the truth is, we didn't really get much sleep. We talked and made love and talked some more, and when I finally did succumb to sleep around zero-seven-thirty, it was deep and satisfying.

Maybe I wasn't entirely healed; maybe I never would be. But with the help of the man I loved and all of his – all of our – friends, at least I made it through Valentine's Day.

Notes: This chapter begins shortly after "Man of the People" and ends just before "Relics," but most references are internal.

Canon has the date of Data's permanent activation as 2 February 2338. (References to his age, and the rest of his chronology within the CRUSHverse use this date as the starting point. This is three years after Soong initially activated him.)

Yahrzeit candles are typically lit on the anniversary of a loved one's death.

Data's first poker game – the first of many poker games we see in TNG – takes place in the teaser of "Measure of a Man."

"Time after Time" was initially released in 1946 and has lyrics by Sammy Cahn and music by Jule Styne. It's been covered by everyone, but almost no one records the first four lines (Rod Stewart did, and Tony Bennett did.) The more conventional (abbreviated) version was recorded by some actor named Brent Spiner on his album Ol' Yellow Eyes is Back, and you can hear it on the YouTube playlist SOSTENUTO which you can find here: www DOT youtube DOT com SLASH playlist?list=PLaBIyUJVFQIKTXjtX1X7t6Q-cNRajmJs2

(Revised 11 September 2019)