Commencement

Stardate 46407.28

(Thursday, 29 May 2369, 15:50 hours, ship's time)

U.S.S. Enterprise

"So that's Deep Space Nine?" Josh's question was largely rhetorical. He, Dana and I were sitting at one of the tables in the window of Ten-Forward and had been since the ship had docked at the space station. "Didn't know Cardis could create anything that wasn't ugly."

"Cardassians, Josh," I accented the word to make a point, "are just people before they're anything else. Why shouldn't they have architects, artists, and designers who can create beautiful things?"

My question had also been rhetorical, but Josh responded anyway. "Why do you care what I call them? Doesn't make them stop being gray and scaly and evil."

"For the same reason it bothers me when you refer to Betazoids as 'zoids or call people 'vulky' when they're being incredibly analytical and rigid. We live on a starship where we're around people from other worlds and cultures every day. The least we can do is respect their cultures." I sounded prim and annoying, and I knew it.

"Your time working in Protocol is rubbing off on you, Zo'," Dana observed. "Not that I disagree. I'll be honest though: I'm scared to death of Cardassians. Even so, calling them stupid names doesn't help anyone."

"Are you really? Afraid of them?"

"I really am," my best girlfriend confirmed. "Aren't you?"

I thought about it for a long moment before I responded. On the one hand, the Cardassians and the Federation had been fighting with each other – mostly over where borders were – since before I was born, and the occasional skirmish still made the news even now, two years after the formal armistice. On the other hand, those wars were largely abstract to me. I'd never been personally affected. I hadn't even been alive until the worst was over. But then there was the more recent, more personal act. I knew – because Data had begun telling me these things – that Captain Picard had been held prisoner by a sadistic Gul who had tried to break him.

Still, I answered honestly. "Not really. I'm afraid of what Lore is plotting. I'm terrified of the Borg. There was this black, furry spider in the shower in my hotel room on Risa last year that made me scream bloody murder. But on the list of things that terrify me, the Cardassians don't even make the top ten, even after whatever was going on the other week."

"Even knowing they were torturing Captain Picard?" Dana had lowered her voice to a whisper. "Zoe, he was at your birthday party."

But my reaction wasn't that of a friend who had been worried about another… friend. It was, instead, reflective of my time in Protocol, and the recent changes in the dynamic between my partner and myself. "Who told you that?"

"It's… it's all over the ship," Dana answered. "You mean it's true?"

I sighed. "I can't really confirm anything."

"No," she agreed, "I guess you can't. Have you seen him? The captain?"

I shook my head. "It's not like we're lunch-buddies or anything. Whatever he went through, I'm not privy to the details. I just know the entire command staff is… subdued."

Rolling his eyes, Josh rejoined the conversation. "Dude, who cares what the captain and commanders are doing. Are we gonna go explore the space station, or what?"

"Can't tonight," I said. "It's Thursday."

"What's so special about Thursday?" Josh asked.

"I could never get the hang of them," I joked, referring to a piece of twentieth-century science fiction I'd read and loved.

"It's date night for Zoe and Data, doofus," Dana said. The longer it had been since the end of their romantic relationship, the more they were settling into a sibling-esque sort of dynamic. "Why Thursdays, though?"

"Poker's on Tuesday. Holodeck time is too competitive on Fridays, Saturday afternoon is quartet rehearsal and sometimes we go to Ten-Forward to hear whatever Commander Riker's jazz ensemble is doing. And Sundays… Sundays are for being quiet."

"And church, right? Because you do that stuff?" Josh was being respectful, for him.

"I go when I'm on Centaurus or Earth, sometimes, and on holidays, but no… it's not for church. It's just…. Look, even on a twenty-four/seven schedule like we have here, some things still operate on a five-days-on, two-days-off schedule, which means weekends are busy and Mondays are intense, and keeping Sunday kind of quiet, as much – as often - as possible, keeps me sane."

"You're sane?" Josh teased.

"Well… sane-ish?" I countered.

"Close enough," he grinned.

We ordered refills of the coffee drinks we'd all been having, and a plate of cookies to share, and the conversation shifted.

"Dad said he saw you in a SOAR meeting last night. Are you all Joanie Joiner now?" Dana's tone was full of amusement and her teasing was affectionate.

I forced myself not to wriggle in my chair, or slouch down, even though a part of me wanted to. "Not exactly. A couple of people have suggested I attend, and I went to one of the organizational meetings last weekend. Yesterday was all about planning for graduation."

"Our graduation?" Josh wanted to know.

"Yeah."

"There's like… four of us," he continued. "They're doing a ceremony for four people?"

"Five," Dana corrected before I could answer, "You, me, Ryll, Serena, and Zoe."

"Zoe tested out."

"She can still be part of the ceremony." Dana turned back to me. "You can, can't you? I mean, you testing out was just an admin thing, wasn't it?"

"I honestly don't know if I'm allowed to participate or not," I told my best friend, and then, changing my focus to include my other best friend, I added, "I'm not sure I want to."

"Why not?" Josh was never diplomatic about these things.

I made a sort of shrugging motion. "I guess… I didn't really finish high school; I sort of quit, and… I don't have any parents on board to see me walk."

Dana reminded me, "But, you have Data."

"I do have Data, but I doubt he cares if I go through the motions of a ceremony or not. And…" I paused, then started over. "You know, I think I need to discuss this with him. I've tried so hard to make people forget I'm still a student – these last couple weeks when he was acting first officer put a lot of new kinds of attention on me – on us – and I have to think about his position, not just what I want."

"I keep forgetting that your life is more complicated than it looks," Dana said, rising from her chair. "Come on, Josh, we have finals to study for."

Josh pulled a face. "Yes, mother."

I rolled my eyes at both of them, but we were all smiling, even so.

(=A=)

Stardate 46409.31

(Friday, 30 May 2369, 09:33 hours, ship's time)

I'd been at work for only about an hour and a half when Lasso summoned me. "Zo-ee," He always pronounced my name like that, his accent making the exaggerated syllables seem somehow exotic. "I'm going to Ten-Forward for a coffee. Come along."

It wasn't a strange request. I'd been having a morning coffee break with Lasso once or twice a month since I'd started my internship. He liked my reviews to be informal, in a neutral setting. As well, the two of us had been systematically working through every 'designer' coffee drink on Guinan's menu.

I hadn't expected that particular morning to be any different, so I set aside the padd that I'd been using to learn a few Bajoran phrases and learn more about the culture of the planet we were so near and followed my boss out of the protocol offices.

I knew it wasn't going to be a normal review when he ordered plain black coffee. I ordered plain coffee as well, but with cream. I'd never developed a taste for it straight. "Am I in trouble?" I asked before the protocol officer could say anything.

"You've done nothing wrong Zo-ee, except allow time to pass."

"Sorry. I tried, but I don't remember Time Lord being part of my job description."

He laughed. "No, I don't suppose it is. Nevertheless, Zo-ee, time has passed. The semester ends today for your classmates and thus, your internship is over, as well."

I'd forgotten that my job in Protocol was attached to the semester. "So… you're firing me?"

"In a sense. I asked about keeping you until you're ready to leave for Earth, but Commander Data and the captains all agreed you should have the next few months to be young and free while you still can." He hesitated. "I don't know if you'll be coming back to the ship for vacations, but you're always welcome in my domain, Zo-ee."

Of course, Data would have known my internship was ending – I didn't report to him, but Lt. Prerr did. He hadn't said anything during our date night but, then, he wouldn't have. Doing so would have been a breach of protocol. I shook that thought from my head and answered my Rigellian mentor. "Thank you. I've learned a lot from you, Lasso."

"Alright then," he said. "After we finish coffee, you can gather your things and say goodbye to everyone. My review will be glowing, of course." He laughed, and I couldn't help but grin as well. "And Zo-ee, do feel free to visit me before you leave the ship for good."

"I'll do that," I promised. Then I looked down at the coffee I'd barely touched. "Lasso, didn't you say you really wanted to try that toasted coconut mocha?"

"I did," he said. "You, also?"

"Definitely."

We had our regular coffees taken away, to be replaced by the sweeter espresso drinks, and spent another fifteen minutes chatting about the politics of the Cardassian withdrawal from Bajor, and whether I'd refined my college plans.

"Have you got a minute?" I poked my head around the frame of Deanna Troi's open office door a couple of hours later. "I know I didn't comm, but…"

The dark-haired woman welcomed me with a smile, and the words, "For you, Zoe, I have several minutes. Is this a social call?"

"Yes and no," I answered. I stepped inside the room and collapsed into one of the chairs. "It's not even fourteen hundred hours and it's been a day."

She put away the padd she'd been working on and came around her desk to sit in another of the chairs. "How so?"

"Well, first I got fired, and then I was summoned to Ms. Phelps' office to talk about my participation in graduation."

"You were fired?" Amusement and alarm battled for supremacy on her face.

"Semester's over, thus concludes my internship. Though Lasso said he'd had a glowing review added to the materials that went to Yale."

"I'm certain he did," Troi said. "Why is graduation hitting you so hard?" Trust her to cut to the chase.

I sat up straighter. "Truth?" I waited for her nod. "I thought… It didn't occur to me that I would be part of it. I mean, I'm done with high school. I've been done with it. My parents won't be there, and Data and I have our own milestones to mark – we just celebrated a year since I moved in with him, officially. I feel like I'm past it. But… at the same time I'm a little…"

"Regretful?" she suggested.

"Wistful," I corrected. "And… I mean, I should want to walk with my friends, shouldn't I?"

"But you don't."

"Not really, no."

"Zoe, you've worked hard not to be seen as a schoolgirl. You spent time as a working actor, you haven't been taking traditional classes all year, you took the equivalency test. It's natural for you to feel as though participating in a graduation ceremony would be going backwards. Especially since you've been involved in the SOAR meetings planning the event."

"But…?"

"How do you know there's a 'but'?" Troi was definitely amused.

"There's always a 'but.'"

"So, there is," she agreed amiably. "As I said, it's natural to feel that this would be going backward, but before you decide, talk it over with Data, and be sure of what you really want."

"I'm a little worried my friends won't understand if I'm not with them."

"It speaks to your character that their feelings concern you, Zoe, but you shouldn't make a decision based on what everyone else expects."

"Somehow, I knew you'd say that," I half-grumbled. "I guess I just needed to hear it from someone outside myself."

"Well, I'm glad I could help." Her smile was warm, and I couldn't help smiling back. "Whatever you choose, Zoe, we all wish you well."

"I know that," I said. "Thanks."

I left her office with a lot less weighing on my mind.

(=A=)

Stardate 46410.28

(Friday, 30 May 2369, 18:07 hours, ship's time)

When the comm-signal sounded, I expected it to be Data, telling me he was en route home. With many of the crew taking leave to visit the space station, or even taking shuttles down to Bajor, bridge shifts had been stretched a bit longer than was typical.

Instead, I was informed of an incoming subspace call from my agent back in San Francisco, Bernie Sanders. I heard her distinctive voice even before the aged red-head's image had resolved on my screen. "…finished with your internship yet, sweetie? My great-grandchildren have been done with classes for a week, and you have a career to think about, darling."

"Hi, Bernie. I'm fine. Nice to hear from you, too." I interrupted her non-stop stream of babble. Seriously, the woman made both Data and I seem like amateurs.

"Right, right, good to see you. Have you lost weight? Don't they feed you on that spaceship?"

"Starship," I corrected, wondering if my agent had suddenly become an extra grandmother. "And I'm eating just fine."

"Hmm. Maybe you're just losing the last of your baby-fat. Listen, I've got a request from the Crystal Theatre on the planet Winter. They're doing Hamlet for their next play, and their artistic director caught you in The Tempest and has decided no one else can touch the part of Ophelia. It's a short run. Ten days of rehearsal, a six-week run, and done. Where are you now, anyway?"

"We're near Bajor," I said. It wasn't a secret. If it had been, she wouldn't have been able to get through in real time at all. "Near Deep Space Nine."

"That's the station we took from the Cardassians? Nasty business that. But wow, you're far out. They'd need you here by… well it's June 8th by my calendar. It's a long trip, I know, but unless you have better plans for the summer, it's worth the money and the exposure."

"Do I have time to think about it?" I asked. Graduation hadn't been enough pressure, apparently. I had to think about my career as well. "At least to discuss it with – "

" – that handsome officer of yours? Yes, yes, think, discuss. Just let me know in twenty-four hours."

Yeah, definitely no pressure. "I'll do that. Thanks Bernie."

"No problem, kiddo. It's only my job." She peered at my image on her screen. "Get some rest, sweetie, you look exhausted. And eat something."

She cut the connection without bothering to say goodbye.

I waited a few minutes, replicated a mug of mint tea, and then placed a call of my own.

"Zoetrope! It's good to see you – even if it is on a screen." My father's greeting was as exuberant as ever, made more so by the fact that he was holding my little brother Zeke on his lap. I hadn't seen either of them since the previous December, and six months had made a huge difference. Where I'd last seen a baby, there was now a toddler.

"Good to see you too, Dad. And Zeke… you are getting so big!" I changed my inflection slightly when addressing him.

"He'll be eighteen months at the end of June," Dad reminded me. He peered into his screen, probably searching my face for the reason I called. "Is something wrong, kiddo?"

I smiled and answered truthfully. "No, Dad. Not wrong. I'm just… I have a dilemma and I need some advice. What do you know about the Crystal Theatre on Winter?"

My father's eyebrows quirked, and he asked me to wait a moment. When I agreed, he left his comm system for a few minutes, returning without the baby. "Sorry, sweetheart. So… Winter. Well, the planet is exactly how it sounds… blue skies and lots of sun, but cold temperatures a good chunk of the year. The capitol city is beautiful, though. And Winter is the training home for three of the best hockey teams in the Federation."

"And Crystal Theatre?"

"Maggie Jankowski is the artistic director and she's sensational. I orchestrated a production of A Winter's Tale for her when you were six or seven. You probably don't remember."

"I've been to Winter?"

"You have. Why the sudden interest?"

I told my father about the call I'd just received from Bernie, and the offer – "…no audition, Dad, just a straight job offer, but…"

"But what, Zoetrope?"

I was about to ask him about graduation, but I realized I'd already made my decision, and there was only one other person I needed to talk things over with anyway.

"Ophelia… do you think I'm good enough to play her?"

"Zoetrope, you're 'good enough' to do whatever you want. Let me know the dates of your performances and we'll try to come."

"Winter is kind of far from Centaurus."

"Yes, but how often does a man see his only daughter play Ophelia?"

I grinned at my father's image on my screen. "You just want to play in the snow," I accused him, teasing.

"That too," he agreed playfully. "But also, I want to see you before you head to Yale. Keep in touch, kiddo. We love you."

"Love you, too, Dad. Give Zeke a kiss for me. Tell Gia I said hi."

He said that he would, and I shut down the comm.

Remaining at the console, I started researching Hamlet and different interpretations of Ophelia, as well as places to stay on Winter, and the history of the Crystal Theatre. I liked to be as prepared as possible. As I was doing so, I was interrupted by an alert of incoming messages. I flipped to the mail screen, expecting an info-packet from Bernie, which was there, but a moment later another message arrived, this one addressed to both Data and me.

You are cordially invited

to the wedding of

Bruce Maddox and Marvin Gratz

Saturday, 30th August 2369 at 6:00 PM

Fairmont Hotel, San Francisco, Earth

Dinner and dancing to follow immediately after

*Black tie.

I've never known what my expression was in that moment, but I'm pretty sure my eyebrows twitched, just a little. (If Data had been home, he'd likely have commented on it, or at least observed it.) I didn't know what I thought about Bruce Maddox marrying the shrink from hell – although the reason the voice I'd heard at the cyberneticist's table at The Orb had seemed familiar clicked into place.

I sent the invitation and the info-pack to both my padd and Data's for easier discussion, and then I left the computer. Spot would be asking for her dinner any minute, and her litter box probably needed to be emptied.

I kept Bernie's offer in the front of my mind, mulling it over. It was tempting – very tempting – and even Data would likely agree that it was a better option than lazing about the ship for half the summer. One thing was certain: when he finally got home, we were going to have a lot to talk about.

(=A=)

Stardate 46412.14

(Saturday, 31 May 2369, 10:21 hours, ship's time)

"Interesting," Data said, as he read the wedding invitation on his padd. He hadn't come home until long after I'd gone to sleep the previous night, and we'd lingered in bed until ten.

"Seems like a fairly standard wedding invitation to me," I said, joining him on the couch, a mug of coffee in hand.

"In many respects, it is," he agreed. "However, what I find most interesting is that two such arrogant men would choose to omit their titles."

"I'm still trying to process that Bruce Maddox and Dr. Gratz are a couple… I mean… do you think they bicker about which of them is better in their field?"

If Data recognized my sarcasm, he chose to ignore it, focusing instead on the as-yet-unasked question. "Do you wish to attend?"

"I honestly don't know." I sipped some of my coffee. "Do you?"

"It would be rude not to accept, especially since Commander Maddox and I changed the paradigm of our relationship."

"You mean now that he's treating you like a person, and even a friend, instead of a lab rat."

"I would not have phrased it that way, but, yes."

"I start classes September second, so it's not like we won't be on Earth anyway," I said, thinking out loud. "We are still planning to spend a few days with Mom and Ed before you leave me in Connecticut, aren't we?"

"We are."

"So, I'll find an amazing dress, and you'll look incredibly sexy in either your dress uniform or a tux, and we'll slay everyone on the dance floor."

"You are certain?"

"I'm not saying I won't have some anxious moments," I said, only partly teasing. "Actually, I'm a bit anxious right now." I set my coffee down and reached to slip my hand into his. "You know, I got fired yesterday."

His expression softened slightly, and his fingers tightened around mine. "And I was not here to provide support. I am sorry, Zoe."

"No, Data, it's fine." I took a deep breath, "If I were truly upset, I would have contacted you." The previous few weeks had shown me that the boundaries I'd assumed were rigid were more flexible than I'd realized. I could contact Data on the bridge, if I needed to, and there didn't have to be blood or pain involved. "I spoke to Ms. Phelps and then I popped in on Deanna and we talked for a bit."

"Why did you speak with Ms. Phelps?"

"Apparently she and all my friends are dying to know if I'm participating in graduation."

"Ah."

"Yeah. And the thing is… I've been part of the planning for it with SOAR, but it never occurred to me that I'd be expected to be part of it, so being asked about it kind of threw me for a loop."

"You did not mention it during our date, Thursday night."

"I needed to figure out what I wanted first," I explained. "And something else happened yesterday that kind of changed my priorities."

Data's eyes were wide open; his face had curiosity written all over it. His hands, still curled protectively around mine, were steady, as always. "Please elaborate?"

"Well, first, I don't want to participate in graduation. I may not have taken the equivalency test until April, but I'd closed the door on being a high school student before I ever started the internship with Lasso, so unless you have some burning desire to see me in a cap and gown, I'll go to watch my friends have their milestone."

"And I will attend with you, if that is what you wish, but you said something else happened?"

"Bernie called. The Crystal Theatre on Winter – " I paused to make sure he recognized it as the name of a planet – "is mounting a production of Hamlet. They saw video of me in The Tempest and asked if I'd come play Ophelia. I really want to do it, but I'd have to be there a week from Monday, and I'd be gone til almost the end of July."

"It is an excellent opportunity."

"I know, but…" I let my words trail away.

"But, what, Zoe?" Data released one of my hands so that he could lift it and brush some of my hair out of my face.

"It means missing out on eight weeks of time with you. Time, we originally agreed, was important if we're going to sustain our relationship through four years of me being mostly away. Not to mention, it likely also means a month at Terlina isn't going to happen."

"Do you wish to take the 'gig?'"

Data using my slang never failed to make me smile, but I swallowed my grin, and answered honestly. "Ophelia is an iconic role, and as you said, it's an excellent opportunity."

"Zoe…?"

My name was the only admonishment I needed. I was talking around his question rather than just answering it.

"I do. I'm sorry, but I do. And not just because it will look good on a resume. I want to do it because the alternative is rattling around the ship until it's time for our vacation, and feeling useless and redundant, and as much as I love you, that's not an experience I want just yet."

"Yet?" I'd often thought there was faint amusement in my lover's voice when he called me on some of the more extreme statements I'd made, but just then I was certain of it, especially since he'd raised his eyebrows and cocked his head.

I hesitated.

He waited.

I sighed.

He remained silent, though his 'tell me' expression was in full force.

"I know that there will eventually be a time, on summer break or in the future, when I'll be here just as your partner, and when that time comes, I'll figure out how to deal. But right now, I'm eighteen, and I'm not accustomed to being idle. I've never had a completely 'free' summer in my life. I've always had community theatre or an arts camp or… something."

Data was quiet for a full minute after I'd finished speaking, but I could almost hear him thinking things through. "May I see the information packet Bernie sent?" I handed over my padd, and he opened the collection of documents.

"If you leave from Deep Space Nine on stardate 46421.46 –

" – June third," I interrupted, converting.

" – yes. You will arrive at Winter on the seventh. I believe I can arrange to join you for your final weekend, and escort you back to the Enterprise, where you will have a few days to pack for Earth and our vacation before we leave. We may not be able to have an entire month on Terlina, Zoe, but I am certain we can have at least a week."

"How certain?"

"Assuming that we are not called away from our current patrol mission, I am eighty-nine point four-six-three percent certain."

"And the extra time apart?"

"Zoe – dearest – we have been cohabitating for one year, six days, and seven hours, and that discounts the fact that we were together nearly every weekend, and most evenings for four months before that."

"You're including the time I was away, though."

"I am. Your time with Idyllwild did not change where your home was, any more than my home changes when I am on an extended away mission. I believe we have created the foundation we need. Do you not?"

I shifted on the couch, pulling my hand from his so that I could cuddle against his side and drape on arm across his middle. His arm wrapped around me, holding me against him. "I worry that my age is a problem for your career, but I won't always be eighteen, and I've learned a lot – and grown a lot – over these last few months. Being apart isn't fun – sometimes it's its own kind of hell - but as much as I missed you last year, I knew that if I really needed you, you'd come."

"That is true," Data said. "It will always be true."

"So, yes, I think we've built what we need," I said, and as the words left my mouth, I realized they were absolutely true. "Our relationship – your presence in my life – it's a solid, reassuring, constant. The Vulcans have that phrase in their bonding ritual, 'parted from me, and never parted.'" I said the words in Vulcan, but I knew that even without the Universal Translator built into his comm-badge, my partner would understand. "I feel like that. We may be apart sometimes, but we'll never be parted."

"Never and always, touching and touched," Data intoned another part of the Vulcan ritual. "I experienced the same sense of recognition when you were away. It began the first time you pressed your hand to the comm-screen."

"When I left, last summer, I was nervous, because even though we'd been together for months, we were still new. Now… I know that our relationship won't end just because we're not sharing a bed for a while. I have your devotion and assurance and… and love… to lean on." After a beat, I added in a wry tone, "Doesn't mean I'm going to like it, though."

Data reached to take hold of some of my hair, twisting it around the fingers of his free hand, and then letting it go. "My Zoe," he said softly, and kissed me.

"I love you, too," I said against his mouth.

We stayed that way, nuzzling and kissing – necking like the teenagers only one of us technically was – for what seemed like forever. When we finally broke apart, it was because my stomach was literally growling.

"I believe we have delayed your breakfast for far too long."

"Worth it, though," I laughed. "Should I replicate something, or are we going to Ten-Forward this morning?"

"If you replicate something to eat, we can spend the next few hours confirming your acceptance of the contract and securing your travel and hotel accommodations in time to meet Keiko and Miles for dinner on the station."

"Sounds like a plan." I left the couch, replicated a bagel with cream cheese and a cup of fruit, got another cup of coffee, and relocated to the table, where Data joined me, bringing his padd and mine. By the time I was done eating, we'd figured out my itinerary, found an inn within a reasonable distance of the theatre, and arranged for me to have a rental flitter during my stay.

I'd been to starbases and space stations before, but they'd all been much closer to the core worlds of the Federation, and predominantly human. Here on Deep Space Nine, the mix of different races and ethnicities was much more obvious, and I felt a bit like a kid who'd never left her home planet before, goggling and everything I saw.

Bajoran vendors had kiosks next to Andorian traders, and the shops and restaurants that lined the promenade just begged to be explored. Hearing all the different languages was fantastic, and my musician's ear picked out nine – no, ten – different ones, including three distinct dialects of Klingon. (I'd always thought there were only two.)

"Zoe, are you alright?" Keiko O'Brien's voice, a mix of motherly concern and amused affection, jolted me from my reverie.

"Sorry," I said, sheepishly. "You know those old videos where a girl from the back of beyond sees a real city for the first time? I think I'm that girl today."

"You have experienced multiple cultures in a close setting before," Data reminded me gently.

"Besides, you live on a starship," Miles O'Brien pointed out, reminding me of something I'd often reminded others.

"It's not the same, though," Keiko and I said together, and laughed. "Go on," I encouraged the older woman.

"Life on a starship is controlled. Events may be surprising, but there's a system of etiquette in place that regulates behavior. DS9 isn't like that."

"Also, everything on the Enterprise feels sort of… antiseptic," I added. "And the starbases closer to Earth do, too. Here everything is sort of…"

"Seedy?" Miles suggested, an amused smirk on his face.

"Earthy," I corrected.

"An interesting choice of descriptor, considering that DS9 – " Data, I noticed, had picked up on Keiko's abbreviation. " – exists as its own point in space, as well as having a population where Terran humanoids are in the minority."

"Have you got a better word?" I challenged my partner.

"I…" Data spent time searching his inner thesaurus. "… do not," he stated, seeming somewhat bewildered.

"Hah!" I was smug, but I was also teasing him.

"Are you two sure you're not married?" the former transporter chief asked, the mischievous glint back in his eye.

"We are not," Data answered, but he said it in such a way that I reached out to cover his hand with mine.

Our gazes met and held, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. Sometimes just a look from him was so powerful…. But it was over in a second, and the conversation resumed, with Data asking Miles about his new job, and Keiko asking me about my internship.

"Actually, it's over," I told her, explaining that the semester had ended. "I've been working with SOAR," I told her. "Which has been interesting. I feel like they expect me to step into some kind of leadership role because of my relationship with Data, but the reality is that I don't have the necessary experience – in work or in life – and anyway, I'm due on Winter in about a week."

"Winter?" My friend's husband broke off his conversation with my partner to address me. "Dismal place. Gray, cold, dreary, all the time. It's like that old book about the kids who get lost in a coat closet… 'always Winter, never Christmas.' Why would you want to go there?"

"I'm desperate for a proper snowball fight and lessons in curling," I deadpanned.

Data amended my reply for me. "Zoe has been asked to play the role of Ophelia in the Crystal Theatre's production of Hamlet."

"Really?" Keiko was literally beaming at me; her smile was so big. "Zoe, that's amazing. You'll be fantastic, I know it."

"Thank you," I said. "I hope you're right. Now," I shifted the focus of our conversation away from me. "We've heard how Miles is settling in… how are you doing? How's Molly?"

Dinner went on for a while, though I caught myself gazing across the promenade at a clothing shop with several formal dresses on display. I doubted it would still be open at the end of our meal, but maybe I'd have time to check it out before we left.

Knowingly, Keiko followed my gaze. "You're looking at Garak's?" she confirmed. After I nodded, she continued. "The owner's a Cardassian. There's a rumor he used to be some kind of spy, but he's never been anything but gracious."

"How are his prices?"

"High. But his taste is impeccable and his craftmanship is even better. So, it's money well spent. Do you need a dress for your graduation?"

"Zoe has chosen to forego the commencement ceremony on the ship," Data answered before I could.

"Because you're going to Winter?" Miles asked.

"No," I said. "I put high school behind me a while ago. I don't need a ceremony to prove it. I need a dress for a wedding Data and I will be attending right before I start classes this fall. I need a dress for the closing night gala on Winter, as well, but I have no idea what's in fashion there, or appropriate for the weather, so I'll have to squeeze in some shopping." I made my voice sound long-suffering as I said the last few words. Data smiled faintly – his social smile, not his real one – and Miles and Keiko laughed, though the former's laughter came out more as a throaty chuckle while the latter's was a musical trill.

Dessert was a chocolate fondue, and our evening ended shortly afterward, with Keiko taking me aside for a moment. "You said you're catching a transport to Winter from here: you know you're welcome to stay with us if you want."

Impulsively, I embraced the older woman. "That's very sweet, but I think I'm going to stay in the transient hotel and start learning my lines. Maybe we could do some shopping and have lunch before I leave?"

"I'd love that," my friend replied. "But you will contact us if anything happens." It wasn't a question, and it was easier to agree.

"Of course," I said.

She and Miles headed toward their quarters, then, and I slipped my hand into Data's as we meandered back to the airlock in the docking ring that would take us home.

"You seemed subdued this evening," he observed as we passed the clothing store I'd been looking at. It was closed, but the hours were posted on a display, and the clothing on display was exquisite. Men's and women's pieces, suitable for humanoids, as well as some items that were androgynous. I couldn't say why, but I liked the feel of the place.

"Counting minutes in the back of my head," I explained. "Not enough of them left. I have to pack for Winter, and I want to say goodbye to my friends – by the time I get back home, they'll be gone – and I want every single remaining minute to be spent with you, but I know that's not really possible. Was taking the gig a mistake?"

Data paused mid-stride, then adjusted his stance so he was facing me. "While I do not enjoy the times that we are separated, Zoe, I do not believe your decision to accept this 'gig' was in error. As you said, you dislike being idle, and as Bernie herself reminded you, mine is not the only career we must consider."

My partner was off-duty, and in civilian clothes, so after just staring at him for a long moment, I closed the distance between us, and stretched up to kiss him – easier since I was wearing shoes with high heels. "Thank you," I told him.

"You are welcome," he answered, then tacked on, in a tone tinged with confusion, "Why did you think me?"

"For grounding me – balancing me – and always helping me find my way back to center. Sometimes you do it with words and sometimes it's a look or a touch or…." I trailed off, a sudden thought derailing what I'd meant to say. Then I started laughing.

"Zoe? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I said. "I'm really fine, it's just that… when my mother realized we were – our relationship, I mean – getting serious, she cautioned me that being with you would mean never being 'normal.' But she was wrong."

We'd started walking again, our arms around each other, rather than simply holding hands. "How so?" Data asked.

"I'm eighteen years old. I've already spent half a year with a touring theater company. I've spent a semester interning in the protocol office of Starfleet's flagship. I'm about to leave to play an iconic role in a famous play on a planet that turns the concept of 'winter wonderland' into a mission statement, and then I'm starting classes at one of the most revered educational institutions in the Federation… and you and me – our relationship? – that's the most normal part of my life."

His smile, caught out of the corner of my eye, was real that time. "Thank you, Zoe," he said softly.

We returned to the ship, and our quarters, in comfortable silence.

(=A=)

Stardate 46417.66

(Monday, 2 June 2369, 10:45 hours local time)

Deep Space Nine

Less than twenty-four hours after the Enterprise had departed Deep Space Nine, I was looking at one of the garments that I'd seen through the window during dinner the night before. I'd spent Sunday packing, saying goodbye to my friends, presenting them all with small graduation gifts, and ended the day with Data, who'd created a quiet dinner at home before escorting me to my temporary quarters on the space station.

I had watched the starship clear the docking ring from my room.

Keiko was with me in the shop, of course – no woman should ever go shopping alone, if she can help it – but her taste tended to be much more conservative than mine, and she was several meters away from me looking at something beige.

"Is there something I can help you find, my dear?"

I turned away from the display dress and found myself staring into the penetrating blue eyes of a Cardassian man who was probably a bit taller than Geordi, but not quite as tall as Data.

"Are you Mr. Garak?" I asked.

"It's just Garak," he answered, his tone warm but with a hint of something else underneath it. Or maybe I was just projecting. I'd never actually spoken to a Cardassian before. Still, even if the dress I'd been looking at was wrong, his merchandise was exquisite – rich fabrics, vivid colors, finely made.

"I'm Zoe," I responded. "And your store is lovely." I saw Keiko turn toward me and make a slight gesture, in case I needed support, but I gave her a slight shake of my head and turned back to the proprietor. "I need a dress."

He didn't thank me for the compliment, but the ridges above his eyes lifted slightly, and those blue eyes widened just a fraction. "May I ask what the occasion is?"

"A wedding. On Earth. Are you familiar with the term 'black tie?"

"A formal wedding?" he confirmed, and at my nod, he went on, "Then, my dear Zoe, this dress is not what you want?"

I'd already determined that, but I was impressed by the implication that he'd rather lose a sale than send a customer away with something that wasn't right. "No," I agreed. "It's pretty. If I were looking for a graduation dress it'd be perfect, but…"

"But for a formal wedding you require something a bit more elegant… more sophisticated."

"Exactly."

"Do you have a color in mind?"

"Black is an obvious choice, but everyone defaults to black. I need something that will go with Starfleet gold, in case my partner decides on his dress uniform and not a tuxedo."

"Mmm." Garak is staring at me, apparently appraising me, and I stand a bit straighter in response. "Black is the obvious choice, you're right, my dear, but with your coloring and that hair – you aren't changing your hair, I hope?" I shake my head, and he continues, "Good. Maroon, I think. It will look good if your… partner… wears black but it will also compliment that odious mustard color."

I reached up to touch my hair, then dropped my hand. "It is an awful color, isn't it?" But my question is rhetorical. I wore a maroon dress the night on Hamal IV when Data experienced desire. "I like maroon," I said.

"Good." Garak gave me another close examination. "A simple silhouette, I think," he said. "A sheath of Koribdian silk, with some decoration at the neckline… I have just the thing, if you'll come this way…" and he guided me toward one of the changing rooms.

Keiko was waiting when I stepped back through the curtain. I could tell from her body language – she was standing so stiffly - that she didn't trust Garak, but I knew her husband had fought in the Cardassian war and was still prejudiced against them. Even so, the expression on her face told me that this Cardassian had found me the perfect dress. It hugged my figure exactly where it should, and the vertical braiding across the deep V-neck added a hint of modesty and eliminated the need for a necklace.

"Zoe, that's gorgeous. Data will love it."

I laughed. "Not likely, but he'll 'appreciate how aesthetically appealing' I am in it." I glanced down at my feet. "It's a little long though."

"Basic alterations are part of the price," Garak put in. "How soon is this wedding?"

"It's not for almost three months," I said. But my face fell as I realized, "but I'm leaving for Winter on a transport at eighteen-hundred hours tomorrow."

"Winter?" The shop-owner's curiosity seemed sincere.

"I'm playing Ophelia in the Crystal Theatre's production of Hamlet," I explained.

"Hamlet… that's the one with the dead king, the spoiled prince and the insane princess, isn't it?"

"That's one way of looking at it," Keiko murmured.

I flashed my friend a pointed look, and asked Garak, "You know Shakespeare?"

"I'm familiar with the works of many Terran playwrights. Cardassian plays tend toward the didactic. Epic stories told in non-canonical scenes. Have you ever experienced our theatre?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Mmm. Pity that. You should look up the works of Shoggoth. He's best known for his enigma tales, of course, but he turned to playwrighting later. He favored the didactic style."

"Didactic…?"

"Tales of duty and morality with frequent pauses to engage the audience in debate. They're quite provocative."

"I'll look them up," I promised, intrigued.

"I'm sure you'll find them educational. Now, my dear, stop by here at thirteen hundred hours tomorrow, and I'll have your dress ready."

"Thank you," I said. "I'm just going to go change to my regular clothes." I slipped back into the dressing room and changed into the outfit I'd been wearing before, then returned and offered the dress back to Garak, who took it in exchange for a padd, so I could scan my credit chit and pay him. Keiko had been right – his prices were on the high end, justifiably so. "Are you sure you have enough time, though?"

He responded by taking out a digital scanner and measuring my height and inseam. "Oh, my dear, I never promise what I can't deliver."

I wasn't sure if he meant to sound sinister or not, but Keiko had already left the store, and was waiting a bit further down the promenade, so I thanked him for his time, and took my leave.

"You and Garak seemed to hit it off," Keiko said when I caught up with her a minute or two later. "Did he recommend the enigma tales?"

"Actually, no," I told her. "He mentioned them, but suggested I check out some of the author's plays, instead. Why?"

"Miles says he tries to get everyone to read the enigma tales."

We both laughed at that, and then we went back to her quarters to hang out and spend time with Molly. I had dinner with the O'Briens, and then excused myself to pack and get some sleep.

(=A=)

Stardate 46427.18

(Thursday, 5 June 2369, 22:07 hours, ship's time)

U.S.S. Cairo

Two days into my journey from DS9 to Winter, I had transferred from a runabout to a civilian ship, to the Cairo, where I'd be for the remainder of the trip. I was accustomed to traveling via commercial means, but there was something comforting about being among friends.

My first night aboard, Deb Jellico had insisted I join her family for dinner, and Captain Jellico turned out to be a delightful conversationalist in private, and out of crisis mode. Their son, Franklin, had loved the book I'd given him when they'd left the Enterprise – A Wrinkle in Time - and nearly talked my ear off quoting sections of it.

Still, the time I was most looking forward to was after dinner, back in the guest quarters they'd assigned to me. The Cairo was an Excelsior-class ship, an older and smaller design than the Enterprise, but the room was nice enough, and it had a comm-system I'd been invited to use.

I washed off my makeup and changed for bed before I placed my call, and when the communication officer at home transferred my call to quarters, my smile was relaxed and real. "Hello, Data…"

My partner's expression was much less revealing than mine, but I knew he was glad to hear from me in real time. "Zoe, I have appreciated your brief updates each time to you changed transports but being able to converse with you is much preferred. I… miss you."

"I miss you, too," I said. "But I'm fine. I went shopping at Garak's on Deep Space Nine and found a killer dress for Maddox's wedding. Garak gave me a vid of a Cardassian play as well. I haven't watched it yet, though. Keiko says he's some kind of unofficial ambassador for Cardassian culture." I paused. "What's been going on at home?"

"I have spent a significant part of the last thirty-six hours on the holodeck."

"On the holodeck? You didn't run the Irene Adler scenario without me?"

"I did not. However, we did have a… visit… from another character from the Holmes stories. Do you recall that Geordi and I once caused Professor Moriarty to manifest as an apparently sentient being?"

"You said that's why some of the Holmes stories were locked out." I hadn't been aboard when my partner and his best friend had accidentally created their off-script Moriarty, but Data had told me the story one night, before we'd started dating, when he was watching over me because I had the flu.

"That is correct. However, it would seem that even though his program was discontinued, Moriarty continued to exist in active memory. When he appeared, he told us that he had even been aware of the passage of time."

I shivered at the thought. "Alone in nothingness, but aware of every second? I can't imagine what that must have been like."

"I do not think it was pleasant for him, and I have no wish to experience the same conditions," Data agreed. "In any case, he managed to convince the captain, Lt. Barclay, and me that we had left the holodeck when, in fact, we were in an elaborate simulation of the Enterprise herself."

"You didn't have to kill him, did you?"

"No, Zoe. We created a virtual scenario in an independent, portable memory module, that should keep him occupied for many years to come."

"I'm glad I wasn't there," I said. "I probably would have gone half-crazy worrying about you. Could have been worse, though… you could have been mauled by one of Reg's velociraptors."

Data's face showed his displeasure at that idea. "I had not considered that." He brightened though, and suggested, "Perhaps you would be interested in the other phenomenon we witnessed today. We arrived in the Detrian system yesterday, in order to record a rare event: two planets collided with each other."

"Collided? They weren't… they weren't inhabited, were they?" I wasn't sure I wanted to know if they were.

"They were gas giants. They did not even possess solidity. However, their collision caused a fusion reaction which resulted in the birth of a new star."

I smiled at that, and when I spoke, my voice held the note of reverence Data's could not. "You watched a star being born? How cool! Does it have a name?"

"Yes," Data said, "it does. As I was in command of the bridge at the moment of the initial explosion, I was given the privilege of naming it."

"If you named it after your cat…"

"Spot is our cat, Zoe. But the planet will be named after a pirate queen whose adventures I have been following."

"A pirate queen? You didn't read ahead in the Master and Commander series?"

"No, Zoe."

"Who then? Anne Bonny? Sayyida al Hurra?"

"No, Zoe." When he repeated the answer, I knew he was teasing me.

"Alright then, who?"

"Zoificus."

I stared at the screen for a long moment. Then I blinked a couple of times, feeling my eyes get a little wet. "You're kidding."

"No, dearest, I am not." He'd changed his inflection, making it more tender.

"You named a star after me," I said, feeling wonder and awe and love, and wishing I was there to thank him properly. As I wasn't, I simply repeated, "You named a star after me."

"It seemed appropriate, Zoe. After all, your job on Winter is not just another summer project, it is the commencement of the next chapter of your life – "

" – of our lives – "

"Yes. Unlike me, you will not be mapping stars and studying nebula, however. Rather, you will be charting the many possibilities of your existence."

His words hit me harder than I think he meant them to. "Oh, Data…" But I didn't want to end the night on a note that was anything but light. "I'm away from home for two days, and suddenly you're a philosopher," I teased gently. I wanted to say more but a yawn came out instead. "I'm sorry, love. It's been a tiring few days, and I should rest. Comm tomorrow if you can?"

"I will try," Data replied. "Sleep well, Zoe. I am… " but he trailed off, and a faint smile curved his lips, as he amended, "I love you."

As had become our habit, we lifted our hands to 'touch' each other's image on the screen. "I love you, too," I said. "Zoe out."

The bed I crawled into was too big without my boyfriend to share it with, but even though we were sectors apart, I felt like Data had wrapped me in his arms, anyway. I slept through the night, dreaming happy dreams.

Notes: This episode spans the Star Trek: Deep Space Nine pilot episode, "The Emissary," and the Star Trek: The Next Generation episodes "Ship in a Bottle" and Zoe's line about Thursdays is a reference to The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Data initially had the realization of the Vulcan bonding ritual in Unaccompanied: A Suite for Actress and Android. Shoggoth's enigma tales are referenced in a season three episode of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, "Distant Voices." Sayyida al Hurra and Anne Bonny were real female pirates, during the 16th and 18th centuries, respectively. Data's line to Zoe about commencement and exploration is a paraphrase of a quote from Leonard Nimoy. (Revised 28 September 2019)