A Change is Gonna Come
Stardate 46578.4
(Wednesday, 30 July 2369, 15:55 hours, ship's time)
U.S.S. Calypso
Deep Space Nine was looming larger on the main viewscreen as we approached, and Data was on the comm system with the Enterprise when I joined him on the bridge of our borrowed yacht. It might have been the middle of our afternoon, but the captain's cabin did have a bathtub, and it was nestled into the curve of a viewport. There was something truly magical about soaking in tub of hot water and scented bubbles while being surrounded by starlight.
Data ended the conversation he was having and closed the channel. Without turning toward me, he asked, "Must I remind you that you still lack the ability to grow gills or a tail?" His tone was faintly wry.
"Can't hurt to try," I replied. "All bathtubs should be that luxurious. I can't quite imagine Captain Picard being so hedonistic, though."
"I do not believe the captain has had occasion to use the Calypso, Zoe."
"Really? That's too bad. Maybe after we return it, he'll be curious enough to take personal time."
"I would not care to wager on such a possibility." Data adjusted a couple of settings on the navigation board. I stepped closer to watch his hands. Partly, I was trying to get a feel for the controls on this ship – they were far more elaborate than those on the flitters and shuttles I'd flown - and partly I just loved to watch his fingers moving with characteristic grace. "The Enterprise will not be arriving at Deep Space Nine until after zero two hundred hours tomorrow morning. We are due to dock in approximately ninety minutes. Do you wish to secure a room in one of the transient hotels, remain aboard the Calypso for the evening, or return to the Enterprise when she arrives?"
"I don't see the point in paying for a room when we have a perfectly good cabin right here," I answered. "At least being aboard the yacht feels almost like home, but if our own bed is really an option…" I let the sentence trail off.
"You are still experiencing homesickness." It wasn't a question.
"Not… not really homesickness. More… I'm feeling a little trepidatious about Earth and school and… everything."
"We will have nearly a month to ease your worries, dearest."
"I know. I'm just scared."
"Of not fitting in at Yale?"
"No. Well, maybe a little. But it's more that I'm afraid of losing you. Of losing us. Of… I know what you're going to say: 'Separation is sub-optimal, Zoe, but we have a strong foundation, and we must trust what we are to one another.'" I fell into his inflection as I was speaking, but it was affectionate imitation, not malicious mockery.
"Indeed." His head was slightly cocked to the side as he said it.
"How long until we reach the station?"
"Eighty-three minutes, fifteen seconds."
"I'm going to go change."
"May I ask why?"
"I may not want to spring for a hotel room, but I absolutely want you to take me to dinner. And maybe dancing if there's any place that offers it."
"I will contact the station and make arrangements."
I leaned around his chair to kiss him, and then made my way off the bridge and back down to the living quarters. Enjoy it, I kept thinking to myself. Enjoy every moment that you have and stop worrying about the rest.
(=A=)
True to his word, Data found a restaurant on the station promenade that offered both food and dancing, and we spent a lovely evening, taking time to explore some of the shops I hadn't seen before.
Around midnight, we re-boarded to the Calypso, where Data prepared to rendezvous with the Enterprise slightly before the starship arrived at the station.
"I know I said I was happy to stay here," I said as I settled into the co-pilot's chair on the yacht's small, but efficient, bridge. "But I'm looking forward to sleeping in my own bed, even if it is only for a couple of nights. Do we need to clear everything from this ship?"
"It will make it easier for you to pack for our vacation and for Earth, but I will collect everything tomorrow before my duty shift."
"You're working the day before we leave for our proper vacation?"
"I agreed to complete one final shift before we leave, yes. It will allow you to 'blast rock and roll' while you pack."
"I'm beginning to wish I'd taken everyone's advice and packed before I left for Winter."
"Whatever you cannot complete, I will assist with."
"After your shift. I know. Would you ask the captain if he could spare a few minutes for me? I'd like to give him his present in person."
"I will do so."
"I have the best boyfriend in the uni –" I began, but Data interrupted.
"Thank you, Zoe. I believe my girlfriend is equally superior, however, right now she should direct her attention to the main screen."
I followed the direction of his gaze and saw the great ship that was our home come into view. I'd experienced arriving and leaving via shuttle before, but the yacht didn't enter the shuttle bay. Instead, Data positioned us below the Enterprise and then moved our vessel – which suddenly seemed tiny – up and into its position on the underside of the saucer.
We didn't actually hear any kind of click or snap, but there was a slight jolt as the docking clamps slid home, and the green light representing the hatch began to glow.
"That was cool," I observed.
Data didn't comment. He simply shut down the engines and set the power to minimum levels. Then he unsealed the hatch and offered his arm.
The early morning hour – it was nearly three AM on the Enterprise – meant that there was no one to greet us as we disembarked. In fact, the corridors and lifts were eerily empty. A few minutes later, though, we were standing outside our quarters on deck two, and Data was unsealing the doors.
I followed him across the threshold and heard the door swoosh closed behind me. Data surprised me, then, by pulling me close and kissing me. Against my lips, he whispered. "My Zoe… welcome home."
(=A=)
Stardate 46578.78
(Thursday, 31 July 2369, 06:11 hours, ship's time)
U.S.S. Enterprise
"Cold," I muttered into the semi-darkness of our bedroom. It took me a moment to register that the reason I was cold was that Data had left our bed. "Data?"
His voice came from behind me, toward the bathroom. "I am due on the bridge at zero-six-thirty. Do not get up."
But I did – to a point. I rolled over and sat up in bed. "I thought you were on vacation."
"I took a week of leave to be with you on Winter and bring you home. As I told you last night, Captain Picard has requested that we hold our departure until Saturday morning, and has requested that I complete a bridge shift today so that others may have time to explore Deep Space Nine. Do you not have plans this morning, as well?"
"I'm having breakfast with Deanna at seven-thirty. I've seen seven-thirty exactly once in the last six weeks. I can't afford to sleep much longer, but I'll probably take a nap, after. If we're not leaving until Saturday, at least I won't have to rush to pack."
"Begin sorting through the things you will require both for our vacation, and for your first semester at Yale. Whatever you do not complete, I will help with this evening and tomorrow."
I gave him a tired smile. "Thank you. I'll hold you to that." I angled my face up toward him. "Kiss?"
He brushed his lips across mine. "Please feed Spot before you leave to meet the Counselor. I will see you at lunch."
I watched him go, set an alarm for seven, and burrowed back under the covers.
(=A=)
"A Romulan? Really? Wow, that must have been unsettling."
Counselor Troi had scheduled our breakfast in her quarters so that we could talk openly, and she'd been filling me in on how she'd spent the previous six weeks.
"Unsettling?" Her dark eyes were sparkling with evident amusement. "You and Data are so married," she teased. "You're starting to sound like him."
"Yes, we eloped on Winter." I rolled my eyes as I said it. "The truth is… we've discussed marriage… a bit."
"Is that something you want with him?"
"Is it totally lame if I do?"
The Betazoid woman refilled her mug of chocolate and mine from a heated pot, then added steamed milk to both. "It's not 'lame' Zoe. It's not even unusual. You and Data have been dating for -what – two years?"
"It sort of depends what we count as dating. Data counts from when I was staying with him after my summer in San Francisco, but I'm not so sure those first weeks really – " Off a look from her I ceased dithering about it. " - but if we're counting from when we kissed the first time, then, it'll be two years in September."
"Close enough," she smiled. "And you moved in with him over a year ago. No one can say that you haven't given yourselves time."
"No, but they can accuse him of molding me, or being a cradle robber, and… I worry, Dee. I worry so much about how much our relationship might affect his career."
"Because you were his student?"
"Partly, but also because I'm only eighteen. Still. When we first started talking about marriage, it was abstract. Something to talk about later, and I asked him not to propose before I turned nineteen. And now… I don't know… things feel different. On one of our date nights before I left for Winter, we actually discussed the possibility of having children, and how that might happen."
The older woman cocked her head at me. "I don't think it's the idea of marriage that's truly worrying you. Talk to me."
"Are you my friend or my counselor right now?"
"If you mean, is this a confidential conversation, then yes, it is. But my role in it is more friend than anything else."
"Data experiences desire now. He got to a place where he could accept that whatever he… feels… for me can be called love without sending his ethics program screaming. What if he meets someone better while I'm gone?"
"Better?"
"More suitable? Another officer, someone older, someone who's done with school, at least?"
"And what if you do?"
I shook my head. "How could anyone possibly be better than Data? He supports me, he encourages me, he listens to me, he doesn't soft-pedal things, ever." I smiled faintly, remembering our reunion a few days before. "He's sexy as hell, and really good in bed."
"Is he?" Deanna was teasing me again, a little bit.
I laughed. "I have no complaints. And that's all I'm saying."
I expected more teasing, but her tone was gentle. "Zoe, it's natural for you to be worried, but think. You spent six months away from the ship last year; did you and Data lose anything?"
"No. Our relationship got deeper. But he visited me on Earth, and on Hunter's Moon, and then he stayed with me for a month."
"And you think he won't visit you at Yale? Zoe, Connecticut is hardly the back of beyond."
"I'll be in a dorm, Dee. You can have a boyfriend from another school spend the night in your dorm room. Not a line officer from the fucking flagship. Sorry."
"Is that the only concern you have? Because I'm fairly certain there are hotels in New Haven?" She didn't pull out sarcasm very often, but when she did, she was really good at it.
"What if I fail?"
She met my gaze and held it. "What if you don't?"
I didn't have a good answer for her; we both knew it was just fear and nervousness. We talked about other things – shopping on DS9, my time on Winter – while we finished our breakfast of croissants, Greek yogurt, and fruit, and at nine I took my leave because the counselor had patients to see.
"Thank you for this," I said, hugging her in the doorway. "I'm going to miss our chats."
"You know you're welcome to call and write," she reminded me. "Data isn't the only one who wants to hear from you." Her arms tightened around me briefly and then released, and I went to start packing.
(=A=)
"Zoe," Data called, his voice getting louder as he moved through our quarters from the main room to our bedroom. "I am home. Are you ready for – " he stopped speaking, staring at me. Well, technically he was staring at me sitting on our bed, surrounded by piles of folded clothing and two large suitcases on the floor behind me. " – lunch?" But he didn't wait for me to answer. Instead, he observed, "Dearest, even with your love of couture, this amount of clothing seems excessive for one semester away. Are you having difficulty determining what to bring with you?"
"Not exactly," I said. "It's just… I didn't know… I wasn't sure if I was supposed to leave anything here."
His eyebrows lifted, and his head lowered slightly, the way they always did when he was about to venture into uncertain emotional territory. "I do not understand. This is our home. It has been our home since Captain Jellico requested that we relocate, and we shared quarters for approximately one year before that. Why would you expect to clear all of your belongings out of our home?"
His repeated use of the word 'our' reminded me of when I'd first started spending nights with him, a year and a half before. Then, his use of the word had been a sort of invitation. I knew he meant it, at that moment, as a reminder and reassurance.
I sighed. "I don't know. I'm… nervous… I guess. This feels different then popping off to Winter for six weeks, or even doing the Idyllwild tour last year. This feels… permanent."
"Do you wish it to be?" His question was uttered in a mild tone, but it startled me.
"No, of course not," I said. "How can you even ask such a thing?" I paused for a moment, and then asked in a voice I knew sounded small, "You don't… do you?"
"No, Zoe, I do not. I wish for you to attend your university, and be happy and successful there, of course, but I will also wish for your return. Our home – and my life - are incomplete when you are not present." He took a long look at the stuff strewn all over our room. "It is nearly thirteen hundred hours. Let us go to Ten-Forward and share a meal. I will download a suggested packing list for university freshmen, and we can go over it while we eat."
Not for the first time, I was grateful for his cool rationality. "I need to use the bathroom and freshen up," I said. "Five minutes?"
"I will be waiting."
(=A=)
Stardate 46579.58
(Thursday, 31 July 2369, 13:07 hours, ship's time)
With a lot of the ship's company spending time on the space station, Ten-Forward was quiet. We chose a table near the center of the big window, where we could see the superstructure of Deep Space Nine curving away below us.
True to his word, Data had downloaded a packing list while I'd used the bathroom, and he presented it to me on a padd after I ordered a chicken Caesar salad and iced tea. "You only need to bring the things you will need for our vacation and your first four months on Earth, Zoe. It is likely that your favored attire of blue jeans and t-shirts or tunics will serve you well through most of that time, as long as you acquire outerwear appropriate for inclement weather."
"I'm just afraid I'll leave something here that I'll want or bring stuff I don't need. I almost envy you, right now. You'll be able to pack for a month away in five minutes."
"For most of my life packing for any trip simply meant bringing a spare uniform," Data confirmed. "The addition of civilian clothing to my wardrobe has expanded my options, but it also requires that I pack differently."
"And in translation that means…?"
"It may take me longer than five minutes to pack."
I laughed at that and saw the slight change in his eyes and lips that meant he'd wanted to provoke mirth. "I'm sorry, love," I said. "I'm emotional and antsy and both eager to get going and reluctant to leave."
"I understand," he said. "Did you nap after your breakfast with the counselor, as you mentioned?"
"No. I got home and felt like packing was such a huge thing I had to tackle it immediately. And anyway, I'm not really tired right now, I just… I'm all… "
"Then if I may make a suggestion, perhaps it would be beneficial for you to engage in a different activity and wait for me to assist with your packing after my duty shift is complete."
"What activity would you recommend, Data?" I could tell he had something specific in mind.
"You have not been swimming since before you left for Winter. Being in the water often improves your mood, and physical exertion will help reduce your 'antsy-ness.'" He watched me for a moment, but before I could respond, he added, "Zoe, it is not a bother for me to assist you with packing; I truly do not mind. I understand that there is an emotional component to the act that you perceive, and I do not. I am your partner; please let me do this for you, while you take the rest of the day to sort yourself out."
Put that way, I couldn't argue with him. "I'll go home and get a bathing suit when we're done with lunch," I said. "Oh! Speaking of swimming… when we get to Terlina III, can you scan the lagoon for me? I have a feeling it's meant to be swimmable but being eaten alive by alien creepy-crawlies is not on my agenda for the summer."
"Of course, Zoe. I would be happy to. Is there anything else specific that you wish to do while we are there?"
"Other than daily private tutorials in Cybernetics 101? Not really. I'm up for some exploratory hiking if it comes with baths or swimming, after. Do you have specific plans?"
"You have asked for this time for us to 'just be together,' and I am looking forward to that experience. Like you, I am curious to learn what other secrets Terlina III might hold. I have no other agenda."
My salad and iced tea appeared then, and the pot of tea Data had ordered for himself, more to keep me company than anything else. The iced tea had a touch of mango in it, and after being cold for six weeks it was nice to be sipping something that tasted like summer. By the time I'd finished my salad, I was in a much better frame of mind, and really looking forward to the swim that had been suggested.
Almost as one, we rose from the table. "I'll see you at home in a few hours?" I confirmed.
Data leaned close and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips. "Go swim."
(=A=)
I'd spent a solid two hours in the ship's swimming pool, first doing some stretching and ballet barre work in the pool, and then swimming laps. I was more out of shape than I wanted to be but pushing through two months of not really using my muscles, helped my mood and made me feel like I could nap when I got home.
I took a quick shower in the locker room, and headed back to deck two, and home, running into Ray Barnett as I was entering a turbo-lift and he was exiting. "Sis! Are you back?" He'd taken to calling me 'sis' ever since he'd declared himself my unofficial older brother.
"Only for a couple of days. Data and I are leaving for an extended vacation on Saturday, and he'll be dropping me at school before he comes back to the ship."
"Gonna be quiet here without you."
"There are other high school students you can mentor," I pointed out. "And aren't you still dating Annette? I assume you'll be visiting her on Earth?"
"Yeah, we're still together… but it's hard, Zoe. You know what it's like being separated from Data, right? And our connection isn't anything like what you two have."
I understood, really, and I knew neither he nor Annette was expecting a lifetime commitment, but I felt the urge to protect my friend. "Promise me something?" I asked. I waited for his slow nod before I continued, "Wes broke up with Annette really abruptly. When you feel you've reached the end, be honest, and be gentle?"
"I wouldn't be anything but," he vowed. Then he grinned, "Hey c'mere." He pulled me into a rough hug in the corridor. "I might not get to see you again before you leave, Sis. You're gonna rock at Yale. And I'm here anytime you need a brotherly ear, you know?"
I grinned into his chest, then pulled away, taking one last look at his sandy curls and laughing blue eyes. "Thank you, Ray. You'll hear from me, I promise." I walked into the lift and he headed for the pool.
(=A=)
All thoughts of a nap went out of my head when I walked into our quarters and was assaulted by the familiar scent of linseed oil. "Data?" I greeted. "I thought you were on duty until la- " I stopped and took in the result of an obvious painting frenzy. Pictures of smoke and water, anvils and birds' wings and a sketch of a man who looked the way I imagined Data would if he had more human-typical coloring. "What's all this? Are you okay?"
My partner turned his attention from the pair of easels he was using. "There was an… incident… in engineering not long after our lunch."
"Engineering? Was anyone hurt? Is Geordi okay?"
"No one was harmed," Data assured. "The chief medical officer from Deep Space Nine, Doctor Bashir, was in sickbay attempting to determine the purpose of a device he had procured in the Gamma Quadrant. I asked him to cease using ship's systems without permission, but the device was intriguing, so we brought it to engineering to investigate further."
"Okay, I get why that counts as an incident, but how did that lead to… this?" I made a gesture at all the paintings, then picked my way through them to sit on our couch.
"While we were testing the device, I was hit by an errant plasma beam."
"Way to bury the lede, lover-mine. I've seen what plasma fire does to you, remember? Do I need to make you strip to prove you're not crispy-fried?" I wasn't angry, exactly, just worried.
"I am fine, Zoe. The blast of plasma was neither intense nor for a long enough duration to cause damage. However, I did experience an aberrant reaction."
"Aberrant?"
"I had an… internal vision."
"A vision?"
"Yes. I lost 'consciousness' for approximately thirty seconds, but during that time I experienced a vision of walking down a corridor, where I discovered my father – as he might have looked at my age – forging something on an anvil."
"So, all these paintings represent what you saw?"
"Yes, it is my hope that by reproducing the images from my vision, they might make… sense."
"What did Geordi say?"
"Neither he nor Dr. Bashir was able to offer much insight. Worf suggested that my vision represented a need to find my father, but as I have accomplished that, and quite literally laid him to rest, I do not agree with his assessment. Rather, I believe there is another meaning I have yet to discern. Captain Picard thinks I will find the answer inside myself."
"Wait… you had time to have a vision, discuss it with Worf and the captain, and paint…" I paused to count "… twenty-three canvasses, but it didn't occur to you to let me know what was going on?"
"Without a result to give you, I did not wish to disrupt your relaxation only to worry you."
"Too late."
"Zoe, I did not exclude you intentionally."
"Didn't you? Damnit, Data, if we're going to survive the next four years, you have to - " but my rant was cut off by the door chime. "Come in!" I said it at the same time he did.
"Data, what are you doing?" Geordi entered our quarters already talking. "Hey, Zoe, sorry to interrupt – wow." He let out a low whistle and repeated his initial question. "Data, what are you doing?"
"He's painting," I said helpfully, glaring at my partner. "I think you might say he's been inspired," I added, in a decidedly snarky tone.
"I'll say," Geordi retorted.
Data's reply was addressed to both of us. "I have done as Captain Picard suggested. I have tried to explore the images."
"Has it helped?" Our friend asked the question I'd been too angry to voice.
"I am not certain." Data explained the order of all the paintings. "I began by painting the image of the blacksmith. Then I painted the corridor. After that, the anvil, the hammer, and Doctor Soong's face. The thought then occurred to me that I should paint smoke."
"Smoke? Why smoke?" Geordi asked.
I was watching both men. This was how they often worked on projects together, one prodding the other, and as much as I wanted to be involved, felt that I should have been told the second something happened, I also didn't want to interrupt a process that I knew was typically successful.
"I cannot explain it," my partner was explaining to his colleague. "It is not an image I saw during my vision."
"Well…" Geordi took a long look at the painting. "… you have the smoke coming out of a bucket of water. Blacksmiths used to use water to cool the metal. Maybe that's why you painted it."
"Perhaps," Data said. Then he continued his explanation. "After I painted the smoke, it then occurred to me to paint a bird's wing. I then drew an entire bird. A flock of birds flying in formation. An individual feather. If the image of a bird is related to my vision, I do not understand how. I am left with more of a mystery than ever." He paused and looked from me to Geordi and back. "I would like to recreate the experiment which caused my initial shut down.
"You what?" I asked, even as Geordi was asking his own question.
"What for?"
"I do not know how much longer my vision would have continued had I not been reactivated."
Geordi shook his head, "Data, that plasma shock almost fused your neural net." My gasp at that information caused both of them to turn toward me. Then Geordi went on, "I don't think it's such a good idea to try that again."
"Data…" I began, but my boyfriend continued his thought.
"I am aware of the risks involved. But I can think of no other way to investigate my experience. Will you help?"
"Don't do it, Geordi. You don't have a very good track record for experimenting with Data's head. Neither of us do."
"Zoe," Data set down both his brushes, and knelt in front of me, to meet my eyes. "Will you allow me to attempt this one more time? Please?" His voice was soft, only for me.
"You can be such a manipulative ass," I hissed under my breath. A flicker of his eyes served as his acknowledgement that I was probably right. But the reality was that Data was reckless enough when something intrigued him, that he'd do it with or without my blessing. "I want to be part of it."
"Of course," he said.
"And I want Geordi to shut things down if there's any hint of something going wrong."
"I agree," Data promised.
I took a deep breath. "If this gets you killed, I will commit suicide and haunt your afterlife for all eternity," I told him. But then I kissed him. "One attempt."
"Geordi?" Data raised his voice to address the engineer, repeating his earlier question.
"Zoe… you're really on board with this?" I nodded, and he said. "Yeah. Yeah, sure. I'll go find Dr. Bashir."
"I will clean up here, and then Zoe and I will meet you in engineering where I will prepare the power transfer."
(=A=)
I'd been to engineering in the middle of the night before, when only a skeleton crew was on duty and the lights were dim. Then, it had seemed quietly cozy, with Geordi's friendly manner pervading the space – setting the tone – even when he wasn't physically present. Being there in the middle – well, latter portion – of the day shift and finding the department similarly empty was creepier than it was anything else.
Data set about hooking up optical cable to a large device sitting in the middle of the central worktable.
"Ah, Mr. Data," a skinny, young-ish doctor arrived with Geordi and greeted my partner. "Are you certain you wish to try this a second time?"
"I am certain," Data said. "Dr. Bashir, this is Zoe Harris, my –" He used the word he'd used when he'd introduced me to his friends at the conference on Hamal IV, the Hamalki word that meant 'life-mate.' We all had comm-badges with translation functions. We all heard the same word. "- Zoe Harris. Zoe, this is Dr. Bashir." I shot him a look that he ignored. "Zoe will be observing," he explained to the doctor.
"Ah, Julian, please," he said, recognizing that I wasn't in uniform, and was obviously too young to be an officer. We shook hands. "You're able to have romantic relationships?" he asked Data.
My partner's answer was succinct. "Yes."
"And you don't find it difficult to be in a relationship with an android?" The doctor directed that question to me.
"Most of our differences are more male vs. female or Starfleet vs. civilian," I explained. I stole a chair from an unused workstation and sat down on it. "Or actress vs. scientist, I guess. How dangerous is this, really?"
The doctor glanced at Data and Geordi who were quietly continuing the setup process. "With proper monitoring, there should be no danger of injury."
I wanted to ask for a percentage, but sometimes numbers just make things worse, so I refrained. "Keep him safe," I asked softly.
"You have my word." His British accent made the words have more weight than I expected.
I watched as Geordi and Julian continued to fiddle with the device. Data rolled a chair into its path, checked the angle himself, and then with a tricorder. Geordi pulled a length of optical cable from a nearby console, but he hesitated glancing at me. "Zoe, you wanna do the honors?"
"I thought I was done sticking things in Data's head," I snarked, but it was gentle snark, not the bitchy kind. "Is that okay with you, love?" I didn't typically use endearments with him in public, but then, he didn't usually refer to me as his life-mate and not just his girlfriend or partner.
"I have as much confidence in the surety of your hands as I do with Geordi's," came Data's calm response. "Perhaps you should consider it part of your tutorial."
I laughed at that, even as the other two men in the room shared a puzzled glance. I left my chair and moved toward Data's. "Okay. G-man, tell me what I do?"
"G-man?" Geordi asked, amused.
"I'm nickname prone today.'
"Press right here on Data's scalp," the engineer said, guiding my hand. I pressed – avoiding the urge to play with his hair – and a panel slid open. "The cable goes…"
"I know," I said. I knew where the optical cable should be plugged in – I'd seen that panel open more often than not when we were in bed. I'd even asked once, how much playing with his hair I could do without triggering it. "All set."
I moved around to the front of Data's chair, crouching down so I could meet his eyes. I could tell he was concerned that I wasn't a hundred percent on board. Well, he wasn't wrong, but even though this would be a largely passive experience I wanted to give him some signal that I cared.
"Zoe…?" I wasn't sure if Data could tell what I was thinking – he knew how to read my face and body better than anyone – or if he was voicing his own concerns.
I sighed. "Etudes," I said. "More etudes. We're going to be so good at this stuff eventually." I managed a saucy grin, brushed his lips with a brief, chaste, kiss, and then stood up and got out of the way.
"We're ready," Bashir said, as soon as I was back in my chair.
Data consulted the tricorder he was still holding. "I am also ready."
Geordi checked the console on the other end of the optical cable. "Okay, Data, we're going to monitor every subsystem in your positronic net. If I see any neural pathways overload beyond sixty-five percent, I'm shutting down the experiment."
Data looked from Geordi to Bashir to me, and back to Geordi. "Agreed."
"Initiating energy transfer." The engineer's voice was calm and steady. Professional. I found it reassuring.
Julian informed us, "Power levels are rising."
"It should be any second now," Geordi confirmed.
A beam from the device hit Data in the chest, knocking the tricorder out of his hand. I rose to fetch it, then returned to my chair again.
And for the next little while, we waited.
Watching an android dream – or whatever you want to call it – isn't exciting. Actually, it was a lot like watching a corpse, except Data's eyes were open, and I could see that he was breathing. I wondered if it would be different if he were dreaming while in bed. He'd told me he'd tried sleeping a few times, but it wasn't a topic I'd pursued.
"What was the tutorial Data referred to?" Bashir asked. I think he was trying to fill the quiet.
"Excuse me?"
"When you were opening the panel on his head?"
"Oh, that. It's sort of a joke. Private lessons in Cybernetics 101."
"May I ask how long you've been together?"
Well, it depends when we're counting from, I thought. But the reality was that Data and I were both counting from the same point, finally. "September," I said, giving him the same answer I'd given Counselor Troi. "It'll be two years in September."
"Forgive me," the doctor continued. "You seem… rather young."
"I'm eighteen," I told him. "I was sixteen then. Legal. Barely." I laughed ruefully. "I moved in with him a year ago May, but I wasn't home for the first six months because I was on tour with the Idyllwild Theatre of the Stars. I just got back from six weeks on Winter, playing Ophelia, and we're leaving on Saturday for a vacation at… at our home… before I relocate to Earth for university."
I saw Geordi's non-verbal reaction to my reference to Terlina III. I knew he'd likely ask Data about it, but I figured it was fair payback for the 'life-mate' statement.
"And you're not worried the separation will ruin your relationship?"
I laughed softly and quoted Data to the doctor. "You've never been in a long-distance relationship with an android." I glanced at the still form of my lover, my partner. "He promised me eternity; I have every intention of holding him to it."
"And I have every intention of delivering." Data was active and animated once again. "Thank you, Zoe, Geordi, Doctor. I have… learned much… from this experiment."
"I don't suppose you'd care to share with the group?" I was using snark to cover nervousness and we both knew it.
"I will share the details of the… vision… I just had, at home. For now, it will suffice to say that the images I saw during the time I was shut down were generated by a series of previously dormant circuits in my neural net. I believe Doctor Soong incorporated those circuits into my base programming, intending to activate them when I reached a certain level of development"
Geordi was called away by one of his underlings, so I removed the optical cable from Data's head, and closed this panel.
"But the plasma shock activated them prematurely," Bashir commented.
"That is correct."
The eager young doctor wasn't through. "I'm curious. Now that those circuits are active, what are you going to do with them?"
I held my breath, wanting to know as well. "Assuming Zoe has no objections, I plan to shut down my cognitive functions for a brief period each day. I hope to generate new internal visions."
"No plasma beams?" I asked.
"No plasma beams," Data confirmed. "I understand how to activate those circuits, now."
"Forgive me, Mr. Data, but it sounds to me like you're talking about dreaming."
"An accurate analogy," Data agreed.
Bashir's tone took on a sense of wonder. "Remarkable. You know, this is just the kind of thing that might get me published in the Starfleet Cybernetics Journal. Would you mind if I authored a paper on all of this?"
"Of course not," Data answered, but in response to a not-so-subtle cough from me, he continued, "as long as you limit your article to my… dreaming. My relationship with Zoe is not something to be studied. She is my partner, not a science experiment."
"I understand," Bashir said. "I'm sorry you're leaving so soon. I'd have liked to get to know you better – both of you."
"I'm sure there will be other opportunities," I said. "It was nice to meet you, Julian."
"I hope you will 'keep in touch,'" Data said.
"Thank you, Data," Bashir said, picking up his machine and moving to leave. "And sweet dreams."
We followed the doctor out of engineering but paused in the corridor. "It is after nineteen hundred hours," Data said. "Are you too tired to pack, if you leave the physical work to me, and simply point at what you wish to take?"
"It's been a long day," I agreed, "but if I eat something, and we work quickly, I think I'll be okay. Might have to be an early night, though."
"That is acceptable."
We headed to the turbo-lift that would take us home, but I had one more question. "Data… when you try dreaming again… can you alter the parameters of the program a little bit?"
"How so?"
"I get that you have to deactivate cognitive functions, but… can you maybe leave yourself some motor control. Watching you earlier… it was like watching a vampire sleeping during the daytime. I know this is my limitation as a human, and I'm sorry, but…"
"You wish me to be less rigid?"
"Only when we're together."
"Are you willing to help me test different parameters?"
I stifled a laugh at his phrasing. "Yes, of course."
"May I ask you a question?"
"Always."
"I 'woke up' as you were talking to Doctor Bashir about our relationship. You seem much more secure about us than you did even a few hours ago."
I thought about it for a minute. "I think," I said, "that talking about the times I've already been off the ship made me realize that I've been looking at my time at school all wrong. It's not going to be four solid years of separation. You're going to visit when you can. I'll be home with you whenever my vacations are long enough. And there's a break long enough for that at least every four months. Four months is survivable. I mean, I'm going to miss you like crazy, but… "
He captured my hand, rubbing his thumb across the back of my palm. "Four months is still too long, but I agree, it is survivable. I am glad that you found a new perspective."
We were quiet for the rest of the ride back to deck two, but we didn't let go of each other's hands.
(=A=)
Stardate 46580.29
(Thursday, 31 July 2369, 19:23 hours, ship's time)
When we walked into our quarters, I nearly tripped on a large trunk that was sitting in the middle of the entryway.
"That wasn't here when we left." I observed.
"I asked the quartermaster to retrieve it from the crew storage hold this morning. It was obviously delivered while we were in engineering," Data said.
"Obviously. Um… why do you have a trunk?"
Data led me around the thing and to our dining table. "I will explain over dinner. You expressed a desire for food earlier."
"Mind if I go change first?" I hadn't yet taken my seat.
"Tell me what you want, and I will have it ready for you."
I stared at him for a moment. "You don't have to always take care of me, you know. I'm perfectly capable of working a replicator. I mean, it's nice that you do. You're always so thoughtful. But I don't want… it's not a requirement, okay?"
"And if I wish to do these things for you, Zoe?"
"I'm not going to stop you. I just… I didn't want – don't want – you to think I take you for granted."
"I have never thought so. Go change. I will select a meal we have shared before."
I stretched up to kiss him. "Thank you." I went to change into one of his Starfleet Academy t-shirts and sweatpants, and to pull my hair into a ponytail. Then I returned to the table. "Vegetarian moussaka? Fantastic!" He'd divided a single portion into two and added servings of tabbouleh to each plate. "I suppose you have dessert planned also?"
"This meal was one of the first dinners we shared together. It seemed appropriate that it should be one of the last we eat here on the ship, at least for a while." Data paused a moment, filling a water glass for me from a pitcher. "I do have dessert planned."
We began to eat, but I hadn't forgotten the trunk in the middle of the room. "You promised me a story," I reminded him, even though I knew he hadn't actually forgotten.
"Do you remember Commander McInerny? You met at the Starfleet Academy commencement ceremony last year."
"Rose, yes. She championed your entry into the Academy, right?"
"That is correct. Once I was accepted, she appeared at the place where I had been staying and presented me with this footlocker. It is an old military tradition, one carried on by Starfleet, that cadets receive such things in which to store their belongings while they are at the Academy, and later as they work their way up the ranks, until the point where they are assigned single quarters. If you were to check the digital display embedded in the lid, you would find the entire history of my orders from the Academy to the Enterprise."
"That's a neat tradition, Data, but why bring it out of storage now?"
"Because your preferred luggage, while ample enough for our vacation, will not hold the things you will need for your first semester at Yale. I cannot think of a better use for it, then traveling to school with you."
"It's a piece of you," I said, realizing he'd been listening all the times I'd commented that he would have my things surrounding him, but I'd have nothing of his. "Something of yours that I'll be able to see and touch… Data, that's very generous."
"It is my hope that it will help your dormitory feel more like home."
I resisted the urge to get up and hug him, only because I was still hungry and hadn't finished eating. "I'm sure it will… but… if there's room, I was wondering if I could have some of your art to take with me?"
"Which pieces did you have in mind?"
"You did a smaller version of the portrait of us from my father's party… I'd like that. And if you're willing, the sketch you did today of your father. Partly because it's you – it's your family – and partly because it's your work. There's a sketch of Spot you did, also… am I asking for too much?"
"Not at all, Zoe. I am happy that you wish to take these pieces."
"One more thing. It's not your art, exactly. On the data solid with the 'home movies' of Lal, there's a still image of the two of you. Could I have a copy of it?"
"Of course, if you wish. But, may I ask why?"
"Because she may not have been my daughter – I mean, I never even met her, and I was way too young to have been anything but a friend, if I had – but she's part of you. The video of you with her let me glimpse new dimensions of you, and I know this is presumptuous, but I feel like, as an extension of you, she's part of my family, too." I didn't let him respond, merely continued in a more musing tone. "You know… I'm legal now. You could show all the paintings you did of me two years ago. And the one from last year… the nude."
"I have no wish to share that one."
"But, Data… look, I know painting is how you process things, but that painting is really good. One of your best. And I've been in enough museums and galleries to know."
"Perhaps, someday," he said. "But right now, I prefer to keep that piece private."
"Okay," I said. There was no point in arguing with him, not about that. "Will you bring an easel and painting supplies to Terlina III?"
"I had planned to, yes."
"And your guitar?"
"Of course, Zoe."
"And Spot?"
"I had not considered that. Lt. Barclay seemed willing to continue caring for her while I am away."
"I know, but this is a family vacation, and she's part of the family. We can leave her with Nonna and Papa or Mom and Ed while we're at the wedding."
"I will… think about it… while we pack. Are you ready for dessert now?"
"Packing first, dessert after."
"Very well."
With the list that Data had downloaded earlier, and his ability to make decisions without an emotional context ("Yes, Zoe, I realize that you wore that dress on your seventeenth birthday, but you have not worn it since. Perhaps you should either recycle it or donate it to the used clothing collection in the quartermaster's office. Many young officers do not have your resources for acquiring couture, but they appreciate being well dressed for special occasions."), my packing was done in under an hour. It helped that I was only packing for four months, and it helped more that I'd bought cold-weather clothes on Winter.
Jeans, sweaters, a few t-shirts, and my purple boots were packed without question, as was Data's old uniform jacket, the one he'd first given to me on Centaurus, lent to me after the fiasco with Lore's chip, and sent with me to San Francisco, and then Winter. Like the trunk, it was a piece of him I could carry with me.
Finished filling his (my) footlocker with things for school, including the art I'd requested, we turned to the things I'd need for our vacation: the dress I'd bought from Garak on DS9 (still in a box, I didn't want Data to see it before Maddox's wedding), a couple of bathing suits and pareos, and casual clothing suitable for a jungle environment, as well as my oldest jeans and shirts – things I wouldn't care about if they got ruined while hiking – and a few sets of extremely sexy and impractical underwear – as well as proper hiking boots.
"Do you wish to bring your cello?" Data asked at that point, and I was caught in a sudden emotional snarl.
"I don't know," I said. "I'm not taking any music classes, but I know there are music groups on campus. It's possible we might want to play music while we're away, but…"
"I would advise you to bring it. As we are taking our own transport, you are not limited to weight or items, and if you find that you do not play at school, you can always ship it home, or store it with your family."
"Okay."
"Then let us turn to what I will need."
Packing for Data was much easier. He packed a selection of civilian clothing, two uniforms, a set of pajamas, and three padds. The Caretakers (I always capitalized it in my head) would have our preferred toiletries waiting in the house, and he didn't need much anyway. His violin and guitar were packed into travel cases, and I remembered the game sets I'd brought home from Winter.
"Add this to your bag, please, and this to mine?"
"Zoe?"
"There's a game that I was introduced to on Winter. It's called Tog. I think you saw the set I gave Dad?"
"I recall. However, I did not have a chance to play."
"Well, it's a strategy game, but it's not based on war, like chess. You'll probably find it ridiculously simple, but we don't have a lot of games that just the two of us can play, so I bought a set to take to school, and a set to leave here, and a set to leave at the house… and a set for the captain. I thought he might like it. You did ask about me seeing him?"
"I did. He will contact you when he is available."
With our packing finally finished, Data asked again if I was ready for dessert.
"I am," I said, "but not the kind that comes from the replicator."
"Ah. I believe I understand; you wish a different sort of 'sugar.'"
"Are you up to it? I mean, you've been shot full of plasma beam twice today."
Data answered by instructing the computer to dim the lights and leading me toward our bedroom. When I started to pull my t-shirt over my head, he stopped me. "Allow me, Zoe, please?"
I acceded to his request, letting him undress me, and then himself. The last thing he did was to free my hair from its elastic, and run his fingers through it, making it loose and wild.
Our bedroom had a window out to the stars, but while we were docked at Deep Space Nine, Data had kept the view filtered because of my squeamishness. That night, however, I asked him to clear the filter. "You promise no one can see in?"
"No one can, Zoe, I assure you."
"Then make love to me in the starlight?"
"With you, Zoe. I will make love with you in the starlight."
And we proceeded to do just that.
(=A=)
Stardate 46581.17
(Friday, 1 August 2369, 03:07 hours, ship's time)
We'd gone to bed earlier than usual, so it wasn't a surprise that I was awake in the middle of the night. Data was lying on his side, eyes closed. No padds or cables were evident. He didn't move when I slipped out of bed to use the bathroom, and it didn't appear that he had moved when I got back. He was breathing, and the subtle thrum of him was evident, but unlike a humanoid dreamer, his eyes weren't moving beneath those pale gold lids. I hadn't expected him to attempt dreaming again so soon, but I was enjoying the opportunity to watch him in what passed for sleep. With his features smoothed, but his basic systems functional, he didn't look like a corpse, as he had in engineering, or a broken doll, as he did when I'd seen him intentionally deactivated. He looked innocent. Younger. Vulnerable.
Still naked, I padded out to the replicator, but it wasn't the dessert that I'd skipped that I asked for; it was something else. Not food. A sort of gift. I wasn't sure he'd use it, but I had to make the offer.
When I returned to our room, Data was sitting up and looking a bit disoriented.
"Hey," I said, slipping back into bed. "Good dreams?"
"I am not certain my dreams are good or bad, just yet, Zoe. They simply are. I never told you what I 'saw' during the experiment in engineering."
"You don't have to, if you don't want to." I kept my voice low, gentle. "I'm happy to listen if you want to tell me, but they're your dreams, Data, and sometimes dreams can be pretty personal." I hesitated, then admitted, "I don't tell you everything I dream."
"Do you dream frequently?"
"Every night. Mostly good. Sometimes frustrating – before we were dating, I used to dream of almost kissing you, and then getting interrupted. And you've seen what my nightmares are like."
"I have seen your response to them, but you do not often share the content. Does it not help you to 'talk them through?'"
I shrugged. "Sometimes. But if I'm really tired, talking them through can make them more permanent, and then when I go back to sleep, they come right back. That's what happened a lot right after I was raped."
"I remember."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to bring it up."
"It is alright, Zoe. I appreciate your candor, always."
"Do you want to tell me what you dreamed?"
"If you are not too tired to listen, yes. If you would prefer to wait for a more reasonable hour."
"Is the original dessert you had planned something I can eat in bed?"
"It was chocolate raspberry mousse cake."
"Would you mind bringing me that, and a glass of cold milk?"
"I will return in a moment." Data was also still nude, and I enjoyed watching him walk to the front room of our quarters, and then return with a tray holding my dessert. He asked the computer to give us thirty percent illumination – enough so I could eat without making a mess, but not so much that it would pull us out of the intimacy provided by the darkness. "You will need to sit up," he reminded me.
I moved back against the pillows and pulled the covers up around my hips. Data set the tray over my legs and then rejoined me. While I ate, he talked.
"The... dream… I had yesterday afternoon was much like the first vision I experienced. I saw my father working at anvil, hammering the wings of a metal bird. A raven. Then I was on the bridge, but there were no consoles, no horseshoe, only the captain's chair. One of my paintings was in the chair, others were propped up around it, and Spot was there, and our Ficus tree."
"Sounds kind of surreal. Go on?"
"My father appeared and told me that my vision was mundane. I did not understand what he meant, and I said so. He said that I was not meant to understand, that no man should know where his dreams come from, but that the fact that I was dreaming meant that I had become more than a 'collection of circuits and sub-processors.'"
"Well, I could have told you that," I couldn't help interjecting.
"Then I was in bed – not our bed, but the bed in our old quarters, the one from before we were lovers - and my father explained that I was the bird he was building in my vision. He told me to just… dream. And then I was the bird, and I flew through the empty corridors of the Enterprise and out into space."
He stopped talking, waiting for me to respond.
"Data… that's lovely. And it makes sense… you've changed so much over the time we've been together. A promotion… the ability to experience sex as more than just the physical act, desire…"
"Love."
"Yes, love."
"When I realized you were asleep, I decided to test a set of new parameters for using these circuits, as you asked. A 'softer' position, closed eyes… was it less unsettling for you?"
"You looked like you were asleep. I mean, you don't have a REM response… ironically your rapid eye movement tends to happen when you're awake… but aside from that? I'm pretty sure if I'd slipped back into bed and tried to wrap your arm around me, you would have let me."
"That was my hope."
"I appreciate it, Data, really, but… I think I should learn to accept your dream state without that change, too."
"We will continue to experiment, then."
"As you wish," I teased, using the phrase he had so often used with me.
"Do you wish to know about the dream I had in our bed?" He seemed both eager, and almost shy.
"Do you want to tell me?"
"I think you will find it reassuring; you were there. You were swimming in the lagoon on Terlina III. I was on the patio, painting you."
"That sounds very pleasant," I said, though I could see what his father meant by 'mundane.' Those were all things likely to happen in the next month.
"It was. You were pregnant."
I nearly knocked over my glass of milk. "What?"
"You were also a mermaid."
"What?"
"You were pregnant, and you were a mermaid. At one point you flicked your tail and splashed water at me."
"Data, stop… please?"
"You are uncomfortable."
"I'm eighteen, Data. I love you, but I'm not ready to even think about having children. Years. We won't be ready for that – I won't be ready for that – for years."
"I am not 'ready for that' either. I believe that vision was caused by my… feelings… for you, and the conversation we had about Lal during dinner."
I took a couple of deep breaths. "That's plausible," I agreed. "Data, you know I do want that, someday, right?"
"I know."
"Just not right now."
"I know that, as well." He was silent for a couple of heartbeats. "Would you prefer that I refrain from sharing my dreams with you?"
"About that…" I reached for the item I'd left on my nightstand. "I replicated this for you while you were… is sleeping an appropriate analogy?"
"It will suffice."
I handed him a cardboard-bound paper notebook, and a pen. "This is a dream journal. I know you'll retain a perfect memory record of everything you experience, but a lot of people think the act of writing something longhand helps you experience it differently. Consider it part of your experiment?"
Data ran his fingers over the journal. "I see. I will follow your suggestion. Thank you, Zoe."
"If you still want to share with me, I do want to hear… I just don't want you to feel obligated." A thought struck me. "Exactly how much of my conversation with Julian Bashir were you aware of?"
"I heard you refer to the house on Terlina III as 'our home.'"
I felt my cheeks grow hot. No longer interested in my dessert – I'd eaten most of it, anyway, I removed the tray from my lap. I was going to set it on the floor, but Data took it from me and returned it to the replicator before I could.
"I know I shouldn't have said that," I admitted. "I was… you introduced me as your life-mate." As he had before, I used the Hamalki word, or as close to it as I could come.
"I did not mind," Data said softly. "I know you are drawn to the house. I do not object to making it our 'home base,' if that is what you wish."
"It's your father's house, Data… but I know you were never there, except when he compelled you to come, and then again last year."
"It was my father's house, Zoe. Now it belongs to me. I have no memories of living in the dwelling on Omicron Theta, but I have fond memories of the brief time we spent there last year, and I am looking forward to building new memories there this month."
"Alright, then."
We were both silent for several seconds, which stretched into a minute. Finally, Data asked, "Are you ready to return to sleep now?"
"I think so."
"May I hold you?"
I smiled. "I'd love that."
"I love you, Zoe," he whispered.
"I love you, too, Data."
He instructed the computer to extinguish the lights, and I let myself sink into the familiar sounds of his heartbeat, the underlying thrum – more a feeling, truly – of his internal systems, and his fingers roaming gently over my skin. Before I gave myself to sleep, though, I had one more thing to say.
"Data?"
"Yes, Zoe?"
"Don't you think it's kind of ironic that you dreamed of me as a mermaid, when you're the one who's constantly reminding me that no amount of submersion will give me gills or fins or a tail?"
His tone was laced with the faint touches of amusement and wonder that were typical for him. "Yes, Zoe."
(=A=)
Stardate 46582.31
(Friday, 1 August 2369, 13:06 hours, ship's time)
Data had let me sleep myself out, an indulgence I'd really needed after late-night cake and conversation, so I wasn't out of bed until after ten. At that point he'd presented me with morning coffee, and reminded me, "We will be launching the Calypso at zero-seven hundred hours tomorrow morning," he reminded me. "I will load our belongings today and complete the maintenance pre-checks. As we will be largely off-grid for the next two weeks, you may wish to contact your parents."
I spent the rest of the morning doing just that. I talked to Mom and Ed, I talked to Dad and Gia and Gran, and I talked to Nonna and Papa. I left messages for Wes, who was doing summer coursework at the Academy, and Annette, who was on vacation with friends. Dana had called me on Winter to let me know she was doing a pre-semester seminar at RISD, and to contact her when I was settled at Yale, but I called her anyway, and we had a great chat. I couldn't track down Josh. Rryl and Serena were on their honeymoon, but they sent a few pictures of themselves and their baby – a girl they'd named Lukkasa.
It was weird to think that we'd seen each other every day for several years and might never see each other again, and I resolved not to let that happen. I'd tell them of my resolution, later, but the comm-calls that morning were the first step.
By the time Data returned to our quarters to join me for a light lunch, I was talked out, but I still had one more task to complete. I had to report to sickbay.
"You're fit as ever, Zoe," Doctor Crusher said, when she'd completed the mandatory physical I had to have before starting school. "Nervous?"
"Only entirely," I quipped. "And only when I'm awake. But talking with Deanna really helped, and Data is being incredibly supportive."
"He's good that way," she agreed.
"Yes, he is. So, what's next. Yale said they sent a list of required vaccinations?"
"They did, and you're current on everything. We need to renew your birth control, but not until December or January, which will be a little early, but not so much that it will cause problems. I've sent a copy of your medical records to the health office."
"Thank you. I appreciate it."
"I've also put together an emergency medical kit in case there's anything on Terlina III that's toxic, or that you're allergic to. Do you mind taking it back to quarters?"
"I'm guessing that was Data's idea."
"You guessed right."
"He can be such a mother hen."
"He cares about you, Zoe. Let him worry over the little things – he can't protect you from anything that might happen while you're on earth."
"And I can't protect him from his own recklessness while I'm away," I pointed out. "Watch over him for me?"
"I promise." She patted my shoulder. "Hop down."
I did, and I surprised her with an impulsive hug. "I won't say you've been like a mother to me," I told her, "because my own mother is still very involved in my life. But you've given me a lot of support and guidance, and I appreciate it."
The doctor returned my embrace then sent me packing with an admonishment to "Keep in touch, Zoe."
I promised that I would.
(=A=)
A couple of hours later, I was in Captain Picard's ready room waiting for him to leave the bridge. Data had asked him to spare some time for me, and the captain had finally found time in his schedule. I'd wrapped his Tog set and brought it with me.
I was watching his fish when he came in. "Is Livingston being a good host, Ms. Harris?" he asked with his customary mix of affectionate humor and bluntness.
"Oh, yes sir," I said. "He's been incredibly welcoming."
"That would be the first time he's been so," Picard retorted. In a slightly warmer tone, he invited, "Come sit, Zoe. I'll replicate tea; milk and sugar?"
"No milk, lemon if it's no trouble."
It took only a moment, and then he joined me, settling into one of his club chairs while I sat on the couch. He served the tea, but it was slightly too hot. "Commander Data said you wished to see me. You weren't in the mood to spar?"
"Only verbally, sir. I'm woefully out of practice. There aren't a lot of gyms with heavy bags on Winter."
"No, I suppose not." One of his legs was crossed over the other and he was stirring his tea with precise movements. "Data was kind enough to acquire a recording of your performance as Ophelia. You were quite believable."
"I struggled a lot, at first, but I found my rhythm, eventually, sir."
"A little struggle isn't a bad thing, Zoe. It builds character."
"Some would say I have enough of that already." Banter had always been a normal part of our chats.
"Perhaps, then, it will serve to temper you somewhat," he countered.
I had to give him that one. "Perhaps." I picked up my own tea, which was cool enough to drink by then. "I brought something back from Winter for you. A game. Data has a set as well, if you need a partner, and I know it's nothing huge, but I wanted to thank you for the boxing lessons, and the conversations, and your time, over the last year and a half." I handed him the wrapped box.
The captain's fingers were weathered and calloused, and he didn't have the grace that Data did, but there was still something elegant about the way he plucked at the edges of the wrapping paper to reveal the game inside. "Tog," he said. "I'm not familiar with this game."
"I was introduced to it one night at the inn where I was staying," I explained. "It's a strategy game… you build a wall across the board, before your opponent either succeeds or stops you."
"You've learned to play?"
"Not terribly well."
"Mmhmm. Set your cup down, Zoe. We'll play a game, shall we?"
I hadn't expected that but saying no would have been a very bad idea, and I was curious. "I need to let Data know I may be later than expected."
"Do that," he said, "while I read the rules." And he pulled the data flimsy out of the box and began to scan it.
Data seemed unsurprised by my announcement. "I may be later than anticipated, also," he said over the comm system. "I am bringing Spot to see Doctor Crusher to have her cleared for travel."
"You decided to bring her!" I don't know why that made me happy, but it did.
"Indubitably, Zoe. This is a family vacation, after all."
A little over an hour later, the captain had won two out of the three games we'd played, and seemed enchanted by the game. "You said Data had a copy of this?" he asked.
"He does. We're also bringing a set with us."
"Tell him I expect him ready to challenge me when he returns." He said it in his half-teasing voice while he was packing away the pieces. "As for you, young woman," he rose, and I did also. "I'm heading down to Holodeck Three. Care to join me for one last sparring session?"
I glanced down at my clothing – I was in a blouse and jeans and chunky-heeled boots. "I'm really out of practice," I said, "And I'm not dressed for it."
"Neither am I. The holodeck will provide appropriate attire."
"I'm guessing refusing your invitation would be inexcusably rude?"
"Quite right. Frightfully so."
I grinned. "Sparring sounds great, sir."
(=A=)
If the invitation to the holodeck had come from anyone other than Captain Picard, I might have been suspicious, but he and I had sparred in a virtual environment before, when working with a heavy bag wasn't enough for whatever new skills he'd been trying to impart. So strong was my vision of the man, that I didn't think to question it when the holodeck doors opened onto pitch blackness and not the usual grid. So much trust did I have in him, that I almost missed the soft lapping of water, and the faint echoes of music and laughter.
In fact, it wasn't until the captain engaged the computer with the command "Ahoy!" and the lights came up, that I realized what was really going on: the holographic environment that came into view was no boxing ring. Instead, it was a pier leading out to a luxury yacht – a motor-driven yacht – with dual decks and (I was guessing) a below-decks suite of rooms that was likely as lavish as those on the captain's actual yacht – the one he'd given to Data and me for the duration of our vacation.
"I don't understand…" I told him.
"Ms. Harris – Zoe – did you really think we would allow you to head off to university without a proper send-off?"
"This is why you asked us not to leave 'til tomorrow, isn't it, sir?"
"Quite so," he said. "Shall we board? People are waiting to see you."
A gangway was lowered, and Data descended to join the captain in escorting me onto the yacht. He was dressed in casual clothes appropriate for the venue. "Welcome to the Morning Star," he said. "If you will come with me, dearest, I have arranged a more suitable outfit for you."
I glanced at Captain Picard, who gave me a nudge toward my partner. "Join us on deck as soon as you've changed, Zoe. I have a boat to launch." And he disappeared up the stairway that lead up top.
"You did this," I accused my boyfriend once we were alone.
"I… was involved in it, yes," he admitted. "Do you object?"
"No. Not one bit."
(=A=)
The outfit Data had selected for me turned out to be the red dress from my seventeenth birthday, the one he'd tried to get me to donate because I hadn't worn it since then. I usually wore it with heels, but he'd provided gold sandals, the flat kind that were a more delicate version of what gladiators once wore. They were comfortable, and they fit perfectly.
Once changed, I allowed him to lead me topside, where most of the senior officers were spread out on couches, loungers, and chairs. Notably absent was Lieutenant Worf, but he and I barely knew each other, and I'd heard from Data that the big Klingon had left the previous day on a vision quest of his own.
"Zoe, sangria or champagne?" A jovial Will Riker set down the trombone he'd been playing and came to join us.
"Sangria, please." I rarely had the fruity drink and I wasn't in the mood for bubbles.
He went to the bar and returned with two glasses – the second, which was champagne, he handed to Data. "Join the festivities, Commander," he teased.
"Of course," Data responded. I don't think I'd ever heard him not call Will 'sir' before.
For the next several hours there was music - Data joined the band with his oboe for a couple of songs – laughter, food and drink, and conversation. At first the party included a great many people – Laura Gilbert, Reg Barclay, and the rest of the members of the theatre group. Cress, Dennis and their partners and children attended, the Bass brothers made an appearance, and the O'Roarke and the Potts families came to represent SOAR. Lasso stopped by for a while, as did Ray, and finally Guinan, though she apologized for not being able to linger. She pulled me into a brief embrace before she left, though, and gave me a packet of the tea she'd brewed for me once in her quarters. "For when you need to call on your inner child."
Terri Potts also had a gift for me, though she stressed it was from all of SOAR. "We know you and Data aren't officially married, and won't be for a while," she said, handing me a package, "but we had a feeling you'd appreciate this.
I opened the package and laughed, because inside was a sweatshirt with "I'm a proud supporter of my Starfleet partner" and the 'fleet emblem on the front, and "ENTERPRISE NCC-1701-D" on the back.
"It's perfect!" I said. "Thank you."
Finally, the only people left aboard the Morning Star were Data's closest friends – the Captain and Dr. Crusher, who were sitting together, Will and Deanna, Geordi, who had brought Robin Lefler as his 'plus one' because he knew she and I were friendly, though she had departed when Reg did.
Data guided me over to the group, where I showed off my sweatshirt.
"Zoe, that's perfect!" Deanna gushed.
"That's what I said." I glanced at Data, "And you better believe I'll wear it."
He acknowledged that with a nod.
"Ms. Harris," the captain began, coming to his feet. Everyone else followed his lead. "There is an old military tradition on Earth – an Army tradition, rather than a Navy rite – called the 'Hail and Farewell.' Starfleet doesn't practice it, but you are a vital part of the Enterprise company, not just my second officer's partner. We wish you well, young woman. You will be missed while you are gone and welcomed home most heartily when you return." He lifted his glass in my direction. "To Zoe."
Everyone else echoed him, but it was Will who demanded, "Speech!"
I laughed, but I felt my eyes growing misty. Then I took a breath. "It's no secret that when I first came to the Enterprise it was because my mother dragged me here kicking and screaming. But once I gave it a chance, I found friends and mentors and a man I love more than I thought possible. What at first felt like a prison eventually became a place of possibility, as well as my home. Thank you, all of you, for your caring, your advice, your assistance – even when I didn't want it – and for never treating me like a child, even when I truly was a kid. Data knows how much I don't want to disappoint him, but I hope I can make you all proud of me." I paused and met the captain's eyes. "And sir, when I come home this Christmas, I'll be ready for a proper sparring session with you."
"I look forward to it," he said, with good humor. "Just remember to drop that left shoulder."
"Yes, sir. Absolutely."
(=A=)
Stardate 46584.16
(Saturday, 2 August 2369, 05:17 hours, ship's time)
As was customary when we were home and together, Data woke me with kisses and coffee.
"No… tired," I grumbled.
"I am sorry to hear that," Data said. "Nevertheless, if we are to launch the Calypso on time, you must get up now. Drink your coffee while I shower, and then it will be your turn for the bathroom."
"Why did I have to fall in love with a morning person?" I grumbled.
"You did not," he countered. "You fell in love with an android who is equally 'bright-eyed and bushy-tailed' at all hours."
"Your tail's smooth and gold, not bushy," I teased. But he had already closed the bathroom door.
I sipped my coffee, confirmed that the clothes I'd planned to wear on our first day of travel were ready and waiting, and replicated a small dish of fruit and yogurt. I didn't really like eating so early in the morning, but I also didn't want to leave without something in my stomach.
When Data finished in the bathroom, I darted in, took a quick shower, and completed my morning routine in record time. I'd been dreading leaving the ship – even though I'd have almost a month of alone time with my partner before I reported to school – but now that we were about to leave, I wanted to be gone already.
Data was packing the last few things into his flight bag when I returned to the main room of our quarters, but I froze when I realized which drawer he was opening. The bottom drawer of his desk was where he locked his phaser whenever he returned from an away mission, and where it remained most of the time. He'd always been careful to store it before he even greeted me, so I'd never seen him with it in his hand before.
"Is that really necessary?" I asked.
"It is my hope that it will not be," he answered calmly. "However, I would be remiss in not bringing it. Should we run into trouble at any point on our vacation, I wish to be able to protect you."
I sucked in one cleansing breath, and then another. "I'm sorry," I said. "I'm just… I've never seen you with a weapon in your hand. For that matter, I've never seen Mom with her phaser, either."
"I will endeavor to keep it out of your sight," he stated.
"No. It's okay. I know it's part of your job. I know that space isn't entirely safe. I'm just a little squeamish. I'll get over it."
"Very well," He closed his flight bag after ensuring the phaser was stowed safely. "Are you ready to leave?" He left his chair, slung the flight bag across one shoulder, and picked up Spot's carrier.
I took a last look around our quarters, squared my shoulders, and smiled. "Yes," I said. "I'm ready."
Hand in hand, we made our way to the turbolift that would take us to the Calypso.
By zero-six thirty hours, we were ready to launch. I listened to Data as he communicated with the flight deck on the Enterprise, but mostly I was just staring at the viewscreen.
"Zoe," Data asked, once we were clear of the silvery starship, "are you alright?"
I turned my head and favored him with a warm smile. "I'm fine, love. Next stop, Terlina III."
Notes: This chapter opens with "Birthright, Part I," and references (obliquely) "Face of the Enemy." "Tapestry" did not occur in the actual timeline, so it is not included in this story at all. Since Data has no actual lines in "Birthright, Part II," I've allowed him to leave the ship with Zoe. Some dialogue is modified from scenes in "Birthright, Part I" as I couldn't exclude Zoe from such a pivotal sequence of events. Data and Zoe first share vegetarian moussaka in chapter five ("Bittersweet") of Crush II: Ostinato. Zoe met Commander Rose McInerny in chapter one ("Prelude") of Unaccompanied: A Suite for Actress and Android. Special thanks to Javanyet for naming the Morning Star. (Revised 28 September 2019)