Crush III: Sostenuto

by MissMelysse

Starting a relationship is easy; maintaining one takes work. This is the 3rd novel-length book in the CRUSHverse. Strong T over all, individual chapters may be M. ***This is a close-canon AU.*** Follows CRUSH II: Ostenato, UNACCOMPANIED: A Suite for Actress & Android, and Bedtime Story. Data/Zoe.

15. Transition - Part II

Transition – Part II

Stardate 46631.69

(Tuesday, 19 August 2369, 13:38 ship's time)

U.S.S. Calypso

Terlina III had receded from view, and Earth was about four days away when Data asked me to join him in the cockpit of our borrowed yacht. In truth, I'd floated in and out of that space throughout our journey to our jungle paradise and had similar intentions for the journey back to "civilization."

"Something wrong?" I asked, moving toward the right-hand seat.

"Not at all," he replied as he left the pilot's chair. "Sit here. We are in relatively empty space, and I believe you require flight hours if you wish to go for your shuttle pilot's license when you come home at your semester break."

"But this is a yacht."

"The shuttle pilot's license encompasses all small craft, including yachts. Please sit down." I settled into the chair he'd vacated, and he took the seat that was usually mine. "Take a moment to familiarize yourself with the instrument panel. You already know where the mission chronometer – you called it the 'countdown clock' - is located. You may find it useful to orient yourself based on that."

I did as he asked, but of course, he'd given me a brief tour of the instrument panel on our earlier trip, so I wasn't starting from nothing. After a moment, he spoke again, but he was in 'teacher mode.'

"Tell me our course and heading."

I provided the necessary information.

"Now take the Calypso out of automatic flight mode."

"Switching to manual… confirmed."

After that, Data put me through the spacecraft equivalent of the school figures that ice skaters used to learn, except in three dimensions, and over much greater distances. When I was unsure how to plot the course he'd requested, he didn't supply the information I needed, but told me how to find it.

We went through those routines for about four hours, until it was obvious that I was getting punchy.

"Plot a revised path to Earth and set the controls back to automatic, then file our corrected flight-plan for transmission to both the Enterprise and the nearest Starfleet checkpoint."

Again, I followed his instructions, checking my numbers twice and then asking him to confirm them for me. I'd made an error in one directional, which he showed me how to correct.

"Oh, so, you have to enter each vector separately, and then combine them into one instruction?"

"Yes. The computer can handle separate instructions but combining them is better for clarity."

"Auto-pilot has been re-engaged," I said, after a moment. "Am I done now?"

"For today. However, I would like to remind you that when you began to get tired, you could have asked to halt the lesson."

"Is that Data my teacher reminding me, or Data my partner?"

"In this case, I am both."

"I'm glad it was Geordi who was overseeing my initial lessons," I confessed, as we traded chairs again."

Data confirmed that our updated flight plan had been received, then turned back to me. "May I ask why?"

"Because when I started learning how to fly, I would have been too nervous that if I made a mistake it would affect our relationship. I worry about disappointing you." This was something I'd confessed to my mother but hadn't really told him.

"Whether you qualify as a pilot or not, Zoe, it will not affect our relationship. Flying is a skill you may need someday, and it is also a way to let you be a participant in our travels together, rather than just a passenger."

"I worry about disappointing you if I don't do well at school, too. I mean, it's different from the way I'd worry about disappointing my parents, but…" I stopped. I wasn't sure how to explain what I meant, and really, this was just a variation on what had been a continuing theme.

"If I were capable of experiencing disappointment, dearest, the only potential cause would be if I learned you were sacrificing your own needs or happiness for me."

"Did you download instructions on how to be the perfect partner while I was asleep the other night?" I snarked, mainly because his words had elicited tears.

"I am fairly certain no such document exists."

"I think you're sort of writing it as you go."

"Perhaps."

(=A=)

Stardate 46637.60

(Thursday, 21 August 2369, 17:25 hours, ship's time)

U.S.S. Calypso

While much of our trip to Earth was spent the way we'd spent our voyage from the Enterprise to Terlina III with board games (Tög, of course, but also several games from the entertainment library), poker (with judicious amounts of good-natured grumbling from me) talking, singing, playing with Spot (who managed to find every possible hiding space the yacht had to offer), and more romantic activities – including at least one other shared bath in the tub in the Captain's Suite – being back in the space lanes meant being back "on the grid," as it were.

On our third day of travel, in the late afternoon, the communications system sprang to life with something other than the typical traffic of check-in beacons and ship-to-ship chatter: a message for me.

A message to me from the housing officer at Yale.

"I will transfer this to the comm system in the bedroom if you wish," Data offered.

"Why? It's Yale. It won't be private, and even if it was, I don't have secrets from you."

"Very well."

He triggered the playback, and an automated message began to play in one section of the forward viewscreen.

- Welcome to Yale Housing. You've been assigned to Davenport College and will be spending your first year in the freshman dormitories at Welch Hall on our Old Campus. Your specific room number is 4-A-011, which means you've been assigned to one of the fourth-floor 'princess suites,' which feature window seats and cathedral ceilings in your common area.

Along with the audio playback there was a video element that began by zooming in on Earth, then North America, then Connecticut, then Yale, and then zoomed into the dorm building itself, which became a guided tour of the space.

- While we offer a four-day in-person orientation, including team-building exercises and college-specific events, we realize that many of our new students are arriving from off-world, and will arrive with little time before classes begin, so we have provided a virtual orientation package, which you may download at the end of this presentation.

- We have also attached profiles and contact information of your assigned suitemates. As a resident of a princess suite, you will share your common room and hygiene facilities with three other young women, all of human or close-humanoid descent. This is done for ease of climate control; we encourage you to meet all your fellow students, whatever their species.

- We hope you're as excited to be part of the Yale College class of 2373 at Yale University as we are to have you among us.

There were then several files that Data downloaded and sent both to my padd and to the comm system in the master suite, so I could do the virtual meet-up with my suitemates and handle all the questionnaires without distracting him from navigation.

Or at least, that's the reason he gave, but I got the impression he recognized that this was my thing to navigate, and he wanted me to have a little privacy.

"Wow," I said, after the files had finished transferring.

"Zoe?"

"Everything just got way more… real." I said.

"Do you mean that in the same way you described our relationship as 'more real' after our time on Ligos VII?"

"Yeah," I said. "I mean. I knew the whole point of this vacation, and our time alone, was that at the end you'd be leaving me at school, but that's been sort of abstract."

"And now it is not."

"Right."

"You will be fine, Zoe. I am certain that you will find your footing, make friends, settle into classes, and create a routine with relative ease."

"And us?"

"I am equally certain that we will be fine. You will be home for your winter break, and I will visit between now and then."

"Trust myself. Trust you. Trust us," I murmured.

"Zoe?"

"It's the mantra I created… before… when we were figuring stuff out. When I thought I just had a crush, and everyone was talking. Counselor Troi said to trust my own instincts, and your choices, and to put trust in us, as friends, as a couple, as…"

"… as a unit," my partner supplied. "As a family."

I didn't have the words to answer him, so I reached across the cockpit, captured his hand, squeezed it, and let it go.

"I think I'm going to go below and read a while before dinner. Maybe nap. Will you come find me in an hour or so?"

"Of course, but do you not want to read the files from Yale."

"Tomorrow. I'll tackle that tomorrow."

(=A=)

Stardate 46642.25

(Saturday, 23 August 2369, 10:07 hours, ship's time)

U.S.S. Calypso

- "Are you Zoe?"

The brown-eyed, brown-skinned face on my comm-screen smiled at me, and I couldn't help smiling back. "I am. You're Anjali?"

- She ran a hand through her glossy black hair. "Yes. I was surprised when the comm-address I was given was for a starship – you live on the Enterprise? Are you famous?"

"Hardly," I said. "My mom was transferred to the ship a few years ago, but I actually live with my boyfriend now. Mom's teaching at Starfleet Academy. And… I'm not actually on the Enterprise, I'm on the Calypso on the way to Earth."

- "Your boyfriend is in Starfleet?"

"He is," I explained. "He's an officer, and he's piloting this ship at the moment, but I'm sure you'll meet him eventually."

- "Oh, good." She paused. "I asked Margo and Chuni to join this chat if they could. Do you mind?"

"No, I'm glad you did." It was my turn to pause. "I read the briefs they sent. You're a design major?"

- "Architecture and interior design, yes. I'm glad we got a princess suite; I'm told they have the best light for artwork."

"You paint?"

- "Paint and sculpt. What about you? You're doing that new interdisciplinary program…?"

"Performing arts and social justice, yes. My specialty is theater – acting – but I play the cello, too. Data's tried to teach me to draw more than once, but I just don't have the knack for visual art."

- "That's cool." There were a couple of chimes and the image on the screen split into three. Margo Robeson was blonde and blue-eyed and had a sunny smile, but her image was frozen on the screen. Chuni Rodriguez had hair that was dyed purple at the ends, and both women seemed excited. "Margo! Chuni! Welcome to our chat!"

- "Greetings from Luna Colony," Chuni said. "Margo and I were chatting yesterday. Thanks for setting this up, Anjali."

- "My friends call me Anj," the other woman said. "Zoe's finally available."

- "Hi, Zoe. Nice to meet you. What took you so long to get in touch?"

"My boyfriend and I were on vacation and the place we were staying is kind of off the grid," I explained.

- "Zoe's boyfriend is in Starfleet," Anjali added.

- "Oh, cool," Chuni said. "You look kind of familiar… why are you… wait, are you the same Zoe Harris who played Miranda in The Tempest here last year?"

"That was me, yes." I said. "You saw the show? Was I awful?"

- "We see every Idyllwild production that comes through the Colony," I was told. "And you were not awful. You were amazing. I can't believe you're really our age!"

- "And our roommate. Well, suitemate," Anjali said. I saw her tap her keyboard just below frame. "Margo? Are you with us?"

There was a beat and then the frozen image of the blonde woman that had been on my screen came to life.

- "Sorry girls, my parents needed me, and I didn't realize the call had gone through. Zoe, it's nice to meet you."

"Same, same," I said.

I watched as Margo seemed to analyze my image on her screen.

- "You're the actress who's dating Starfleet's android, aren't you?"

I was instantly defensive. "Don't call him that."

- "I'm sorry," Margo said, backing off. "I'm too blunt sometimes. I'm working on it, I swear. Are we cool?"

"We're cool," I said. "It's just… so many people treat him like he's less than a person."

- "I can see how that would annoy," Anjali put in. Then she added, teasing, "But you said you weren't famous…"

"I'm not. Really. There was some press last year, is all. Listen, I'm dying to meet you all in person, but I'm probably not going to be there until September first. I'll be doing the virtual orientation in transit, but Data and I have a wedding to attend in San Francisco on the thirtieth, and I haven't seen my mother since January."

- "No worries, Zoe," Chuni breezed. "We'll hit all the parties and get extra swag for you."

I laughed. "Awesome. I'm really looking forward to meeting all of you."

Margo looked like she was going to add more to the conversation, but Data's voice cut in. "Zoe, I'm afraid we are approaching the next security check-point. I must ask you to end your call."

- "Was that him?" Anjali asked. "He has a lovely voice."

"I think so, too," I admitted. "And I'll tell him you said so. See you all in a couple of weeks. Calypso out."

(=A=)

Stardate 46647.90

(Monday, 25 August 2369, 11:38 hours, ship's time)

U.S.S. Calypso

The yacht was on autopilot. I was sitting in the lounge, reading and eating grapes. They were from the replicator, but still tasty. Spot was perched behind me, alternately sleeping and playing with my hair, and Data was strumming his guitar.

Glancing up from my padd, I smiled at him. "You owe me more lessons," I pointed out. "And if we're still on track for arrival on Earth tomorrow, we're running out of time."

"We have time now, if you are amenable."

"Definitely!"

I set my padd and bowl of grapes down on the coffee table, and dislodged the cat, who slitted her eyes at me before resettling. Data, meanwhile, had taken up a position perched on the edge of a recliner. "Come sit in front of me, on the ottoman," he requested. He'd arranged the latter piece of furniture so that it abutted the chair with its short side, and his legs fit on either side of it.

"Oh, so it's going to be that kind of guitar lesson," I teased. But I did as he asked, sitting close enough that I could almost feel the subtle thrum of his internal systems if I leaned back. He lifted the guitar and strap over my head and settled them against my body.

"As I demonstrated when we were on Terlina III, some aspects of guitar are not unlike the cello."

"I still use my left hand to stop the strings, and your right to play," I said.

"Correct. In this case, we will strum." He demonstrated, and then guided my right hand into position, so I could move it across the strings. For the first few minutes, he did the fingering, merely directing me in a rhythm. Then he showed me how to pick out specific notes of a song he had in mind.

Eventually, we moved on, engaging my left hand, as Data taught me the chords. I didn't remember my first cello lessons – I'd been so young, and everything was more easily absorbed – but I knew they'd been a lot less personal.

Certainly, they'd been less intimate.

We continued until the combination of using my hands in new ways and being so close to the man I loved became overwhelming.

"My hand is cramping," I said, when I tried to stretch to reach a more difficult chord. "Can we take a break?"

I assumed Data would get up, but he simply reclaimed the guitar and set it beside us. Then he took my left hand in both of his and ran his thumbs over all the muscles. "You have tension here," he said referring to the knot at the base of my thumb. "You should have told me sooner," he admonished gently.

"It wasn't bad," I said, "until it was. And anyway, I was having fun." I leaned back against his chest, while he was still massaging my hand. "Music lessons should always be like this."

"You have always responded best to a hands-on approach," Data pointed out. His tone was not quite neutral.

"Data?"

"You have, more than once, expressed a desire for a 'quickie' or a 'nooner.' It is currently thirteen oh-seven hours, but if you are interested now, we are still in an area of space where it is safe to let the autopilot remain 'in charge.'"

I turned my head against his chest and found him looking down at me. "I'm always interested," I reminded him softly. I started to get up, but he stopped me. "Data?"

"Allow me?" he asked softly. I nodded my acceptance, and he gathered me into his arms as he rose, then carried me to our stateroom, where he dimmed the lights but set the windows to let the starlight in – that was the best part about living on starships: romantic lighting any time you wanted it.

We undressed each other more slowly than a typical mid-afternoon encounter would call for, eventually finding our way to the bed, and then to one another's bodies once more. Nothing we did was new – we kissed and touched and joined in the way that had become familiar and satisfying – but was tinged by the knowledge that we had little time left before these indulgences would have to wait weeks or months to reoccur.

Still, I was satisfied, smiling, and slightly drowsy when we found our completion, and Data held me close, breathing in the scent of my hair – something he was fond of doing – while I let his pulse and that other thrum move through me.

Still later, he rose from the bed. "I must check our status," he said. "Rest, if you wish. We will share a meal when you wake."

I turned on my side and pulled his pillow into my arms. I was dimly aware when he left the room, and when Spot bounced onto the bed, but sleep called, and I let myself sink into it.

(=A=)

Stardate 46651.16

(Tuesday, 26 August 2369, 4:13 PM, local time)

San Francisco, Earth

The house Mom and Ed had purchased several months before was one of the old 'painted ladies,' from San Francisco's Victorian era. It was on Oak Street, facing the panhandle of Golden Gate Park, and just a few blocks away from the infamous Haight-Ashbury Free Clinic, which still stood, though it was no longer a medical facility, but a museum of public health.

The neighborhood had gone through many phases over the centuries since the city's founding, and was, at that time, home to many working professionals whose kids used the park as additions to their own back yards, just as many of the adult residents did.

Data and I had rented a flitter for our time on Earth, but we'd breezed through Transit Authority (apparently using a captain's yacht gets you treated like a VIP) and transferred Spot and our belongings to the flitter, stopped to get flowers for my mother, and still ended up arriving at her front door just after four in the afternoon.

The fog hadn't yet begun to roll in from the bay, and the sun was shining. It was nice to breathe real air after several days aboard the Calypso, but I was aware that this was the beginning of the end. We'd spend a couple of days with my parents, relocate to the Fairmont Hotel for the wedding, and on Monday morning, Data would drop me at Yale and then return the flitter and beam back to the yacht and head back home.

A part of me was dreading our separation, still, but another part was looking forward to new experiences, and stories I could share with him.

"We cannot enter if we do not activate the annunciator," Data pointed out, shaking me from my reverie.

"Doorbell," I corrected. "Ship cabins have annunciators. Houses have doorbells. Even if they're not technically bells all the time."

"Would you prefer that I push the button?"

I gave him a sideways look and triggered the doorbell. I heard Bogart barking inside and noticed Spot bristling in her crate.

"Has Spot met dogs before?" I asked.

"She has not. This will prove to be an interesting visit."

The door opened and my mother, still in uniform, appeared, smiling. "Zoe!" She pulled me into a fierce hug that I felt myself returning. "I've missed you so much, kiddo. Come in, come in. You too, Data… and don't worry, Bogart is cat-friendly."

"I am more concerned that Spot will behave inappropriately," Data said.

Mom led us into the house and let the door close behind us. "Well, we've put you upstairs in our family suite. It used to be maid's quarters, centuries ago, but now it's got two bedrooms, each with a full bath and a sitting room." She hesitated. "Ed's sons sometimes stay up there, when they visit, but they share one of the bedrooms. The other… it's not a guest room; we meant it for you." She stepped back so that she could include Data in her meaningful gaze. "For both of you. Once you're inside the space, there's plenty of room for Spot to be out of her crate and the bathroom is big enough for a litter box." She stopped then, having led us to the living room. "I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me show you your room and then you can take some time to rest or freshen up before Ed gets home."

I glanced at Data, and then back at my mother. "Mom," I said, "It's okay if this is a little weird. I'm still your daughter, but this isn't home to me, and we're not guests the way more distant family or friends would be."

"Oh, Zoificus…"

"Forgive me, Emily," Data cut in. "But I would like to release Spot from her carrier. She dislikes being caged. As well, I believe Zoe would benefit from some 'alone time.' I have been her only company for a month, and we have been in close quarters on the Calypso all week." He was exaggerating a bit. Not about the company, but about my need to decompress.

"There you go with the being-right again," I grumbled, but I was teasing and both mom and Data were aware of it. "Normally, I'd ask if there was a proper bathtub, but right now, I'd love to sprawl on a bed." My sleep had been more and more fitful as we'd approached Earth. I knew it was just nerves, but I couldn't seem to overcome it.

My mother's gaze sharpened. "You do look tired, kiddo. Alright then. Come this way." She led us up the stairs, pausing on the second floor. "Our bedroom suite and my study are on this level, as well as the laundry facility. We'll have a proper tour later." Arriving at the third floor, we turned left. "Your rooms are here." She opened the door to a sun-lit space with windows that faced the street and provided a view of the city. It was the sitting room she'd mentioned. The bedroom was beyond it, and the bathroom on the far side of that. "The linen closet in the bathroom is stocked with towels, and there are extra pillows and blankets and… Zoe, I don't even know if you still like having piles of pillows on your bed."

"She does," Data answered, even as I replied, "I do." But my partner continued. "In my study of parent-child interaction, I have learned that the disconnect you are experiencing is both typical and generally brief."

I saw Mom hide a chuckle. "Thank you, Data." She reached to hug him, and he allowed it. Once she'd released him, she stroked a gentle hand through my hair. "I'm dying to catch up with you – with both of you – but I'll try to wait just a little longer."

She turned to go but paused in the doorway. "I'm truly glad you're here, even if it is only for a couple of days."

(=A=)

The clock in the bedroom told me that it was a little after six in the evening when I exited the bathroom wrapped in a towel, which meant that I'd been in the bath for a bit more than half an hour. Data and I had unpacked a couple of days of clothing and set up Spot's bed and litterbox, and then, while I'd crashed on the big bed, he'd had a quiet play-session with his pet, before rousing me enough to let me know he was going downstairs to contact Wesley – something he'd promised Dr. Crusher he would do.

My mother hadn't given us any hint of what she'd planned for dinner, but I knew that if I asked for delivery food, she wouldn't object, and I couldn't face putting on real clothes. I dressed in a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants and put only socks on my feet. After twisting my damp hair into a loose bun, I made my way back downstairs, bringing with me the gifts Data and I had chosen for Mom and Ed. House gifts, really.

I could hear voices rising and falling in conversation but couldn't quite figure out which room the speakers were in, so I paused for a moment, to listen.

"… seems tan, healthy, and happy despite being tired. Clearly your relationship is good for her," my mother was saying.

"It is 'good for me' as well, Emily. As we have both stated, we fit. Though Zoe is experiencing some anxiety about starting at Yale."

"That's normal, Data. She's still only eighteen. Even with her time at Idyllwild and on Winter, college is a big step. Are you concerned that she'll want to end your relationship?"

I froze. I hoped he wasn't worried about that. We'd both said we weren't interested in other people, and I thought I'd been clear about why I wanted more time. We had worked through that issue, hadn't we? But his next words relieved my worries.

"No, Emily. That is not one of my concerns. We have discussed our future plans in enough detail that I am certain our commitment to one another is strong. Zoe has, however, expressed concerns about remaining her own person in the context of her relationship with me."

"You are very visible, Data… and with your rank, and the differences in your ages, it's not unusual that someone as young as Zoe would feel a bit overshadowed at times."

"I am aware of those factors. I believe Zoe fears that she has become too dependent on… us. On our dynamic as a couple."

"Well, what do you think?"

"I believe her fears are unfounded, but I also understand that Zoe learns best through experience. Nothing I tell her can assuage her fears. She has asked that we not make an official change to our relationship until she has completed this semester, and I have agreed."

I heard my mother's rueful chuckle. "I was half-expecting that you would be announcing your engagement when you arrived here."

"Would you support it, if we had?" Data's tone was open and guileless.

My mother sighed. "Oh, Data. I had a conversation with Zoe a few months ago about that. She was pretty shaken up by whatever happened with that mining colony."

"Ligos VII," Data provided instantly. "She handled herself well in a difficult situation and held her 'meltdown' until we returned home, but I would not have chosen for her to be present on the planet's surface if it had been up to me."

"No, I don't imagine you would have. She's not an officer, Data, and even though she was with me on the ship for these past few years, she hasn't been exposed to the Starfleet part of my life very much. There are going to be times when she won't react with grace and poise. Are you prepared for that?"

"I am. I have made it clear that I do not expect her to participate in any aspect of Starfleet life that she does not feel comfortable with…"

"Did she accept that?"

"Not entirely."

"No, I didn't think so."

"Were you aware that she joined the SOAR chapter on the Enterprise?"

"She did? Really?" My mother's voice was full of surprise, and I grinned. Childish it might have been, but I was delighted that I could still shock her. At the same time, I head the echo of my own inflections in her speech. I wondered if Data noticed that as well.

"She did. Really. I believe Deborah Jellico paved the way, but the choice was entirely hers, though she was understandably upset with me when she learned that I had asked the chapter representative not to contact her. She has also accepted that she is allowed to ask – entitled to ask - for mission information typically restricted to spouses, and she has been doing so."

"She's ready," my mother said, in her musing tone.

"Ready?"

"For the future you two have been talking about for the better part of a year."

"We are already living that future," Data said gently, "but if you mean a permanent commitment… " I couldn't see their faces, but I had the distinct impression that Data's posture had changed from something officer-like to something softer. "Emily, I have already had this discussion with Zach, but there is no way I would proceed with my plans before speaking with you, as well. As I said, Zoe has asked me to wait until the end of this semester before making an official proposal of marriage, and I have agreed, but I also believe that having our future somewhat… settled… will be beneficial to both of us. I wish to marry your daughter."

"And you're asking my permission?" my mother seemed faintly amused.

"No." Data's response was firm, but still gentle. "The only person who can grant that permission is Zoe herself. Rather, Emily, I am asking for your approval and support."

"Oh, Data… " My mother trailed off and all was quiet. "I knew this was coming. I've known since she moved in with you, I think. You were never going to be just a lover to her, and she was never going to be just your girlfriend."

"No," he agreed. And I heard a faint note of amusement in his voice when he said, "I do not believe I am 'wired' for casual relationships. And Zoe is… not 'just' any woman. We are partners in every way."

"You have my approval, Data. And my support, and Ed's, too – I'm sure of it. But I have to know: you said you've had this conversation with Zoe's father?"

"Yes," he said, "I have. When we were on Winter."

I smothered a gasp with my hand. I hadn't known he'd found time to have this kind of chat with Dad. I thought he'd meant over subspace.

"May I ask what he said?"

"He said that it was Zoe's decision, and that if I hurt her, he would strip me down to my wires." Data's voice took on a decidedly disturbed tone. "I chose not to debate that point." He paused, and I had the feeling he was listening, determining if I was close enough to hear. "His mother also observed that marrying young was something of a tradition for the women in your family."

My mother's laughter rang through the house, and I felt myself laughing with her, which of course gave away the fact that I'd been hovering. "Zoificus, dear, stop in the kitchen and collect a glass of wine or mug of tea and join us in the living room, would you?"

"Sure, Mom." I called. I chose tea and carried it through to the living room. Mom was on one of the couches and Data was on the loveseat and I chose to sit with him. "Thanks for letting me nap… and soak," I said to them both. "I needed some decompression time."

"Dare I ask how much you heard of our conversation?" Data asked, lifting his arm and putting it around my shoulders.

"Enough," I said. "We can talk about it later, if you like." I kept my tone light, but inside I was feeling the way I had at Mom's wedding: as if Sychoran firedancers had taken up residence in my belly. "So, I was wondering if we could just order in pizza or Chinese food tonight?" I said, changing the subject. "I'm kind of craving food that comes in a box. More than that… I can't face putting a bra back on."

My mother laughed. "Alright then. I've been craving Chinese also, and Data, the restaurant we prefer does an amazing vegetarian lo mein."

Data thanked her for the consideration, and Mom excused herself to call Ed. I snuggled deeper into both the loveseat and Data's embrace. "It feels weird being here," I said softly. "It's my mother's house, and she's made a place for us, but I don't belong here."

"I am not surprised," he answered, his voice also low. "You have not lived in your mother's care in over a year. You have either been at home with me, or on your own. You have made your home in other places."

"I feel like I'm disappointing her."

"I do not think that is possible, just as you could never disappoint me as long as you are true to yourself."

"God, I love you."

"And I am devoted to you, always."

I rested my head against his shoulder, not bothering to move when my mother came back in the room. Her gushy-mom expression said everything I needed to hear.

(=A=)

Stardate 46656.40

(Thursday, 28 August 2369, 2:06 PM, local time)

San Francisco, Earth

Getting a manicure and pedicure before Bruce Maddox's wedding had always been on my agenda, but it was my mother who suggested we go together. She and Ed had also been invited. Ed knew Dr. Gratz from Berkeley, where the confrontational psychotherapist taught a couple of classes every semester. (I pitied the freshmen who got him for Psych 101.)

A mother-daughter afternoon seemed appropriate, so I agreed, and she booked the appointment for the same block of time Data had set aside to drop in on Wesley. Once our nails had been done, we went for lunch at a restaurant near the house – all the places on the wharf would be too crowded with tourists for another week or so.

"You could have told me, if you'd wanted to see your friend," Mom said. "I know Wes was a couple years ahead of you, but your group was close. You should protect those relationships. No one else can comprehend the experience of living life on a starship like those who've been through it."

"Mom, I'll be visiting you lots, and there will be time to drag Wes out for coffee on those visits. Anyway, Data's drop-in isn't entirely social. Dr. Crusher asked him to go as a mentor and former colleague. He's there as her proxy."

"Oh… no, I can see why you wouldn't want to be there for that."

"Definitely not." The Bollian woman who had come to bring our drinks smiled at my emphatic response. "Besides, he hasn't had the luxury of seeing Data and I together for a year, the way my other friends have. It would be a bit weird."

"For you or for him?" Was there a note of concern in her tone? I've never been certain.

"For him, Mom, really." I answered with a touch of irritation. I took a breath. "Sorry," I said. "I'm a little anxious about the wedding. One of the grooms tried to end my partner's life, and the other tried to make me doubt my relationship."

"I suspect it's more than just the wedding you're anxious about, kiddo."

Like Data, my mother had an annoying tendency to be right. "You mean school?"

"I mean being so far away from each other for a longer time than you've been separated," Mom clarified gently. "You know he loves you, Zoe. You know he would never – "

I interrupted her, "I know. I'm more worried about the dynamic changing once I'm back in school. This last year, I had classes, yes, but mostly they were private tutorials. - Did you know I'm fluent in the common tongue of Vulcan now, and learning old high Vulcan as well? - But I was also working. When I was on Winter, I wasn't a student, just a working actor. And now? Now I'm back to being just a student again."

"The best of us never stop being students," my mother said.

"Did you hear that from Deanna?"

"Why? Did she give you the same speech?"

"Sort of. After… after that one incident… the one after your Maarklin mission? I told her I couldn't be Data's student anymore, and she pointed out that in many ways he was still a student, himself."

"She's right."

"But it's not the same."

"No, sweetie, it's not. But you're a bright and generally level-headed young woman, and while I'd normally remind you to use your head, in this case, I think you should trust your heart."

"Somehow, I knew you'd say that."

"Well, it's in the official Mom Book."

"In the chapter on sending kids to college?"

"In the chapter on ushering your adult child toward the future she's meant to have."

"I have got to get a copy of that book."

Our food was delivered then: sourdough bread bowls of clam chowder with small side salads, and conversation slowed until I asked. "Do you mind that you're not the one taking me to school?"

My mother froze with her fork half-way to her mouth. Then she set it down, using the time to recover, and daubed at the corners of her mouth, with her napkin. "There's a part of me that always imagined it would be your Dad and me, taking you to college," she said slowly. "I remember the day Nonna and Papa dropped me at the Academy. They insisted on taking my picture as I reported to my section leader. I was so embarrassed. But our section leader reminded us that we should honor our parents' need to be part of our lives. 'It's why you all get fifteen minutes of free comm time every week,' he said."

"So, you do mind."

"No," my mother was quick to assure me. "I'm a little bit wistful, but you've been on your own for over a year now, kiddo, and it's right that Data should have that moment with you. Although…" she stretched out the phrase, "I wouldn't mind a picture of you receiving your key."

I laughed. "I think we can work that out. Did I tell you, we've been assigned one of the princess suites?"

"Did you tell me? Did you tell me?" My mother was being melodramatic on purpose, though she'd resumed eating, at least. "Daughter-of-mine, I cannot catalogue the things you have not told me."

I had the decency to blush. "Sorry. I just… why don't I tell you now?" She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips, and I continued, "So, I have three suite-mates, Anjali, Margo, and Chuni. Chuni is from Luna Colony, but Anjali and Margo have lived here on Earth their entire lives. We'll each have our own bedrooms, but we share a common room and a bathroom. And get this mom, the common room has window seats."

If I'd brought a padd along, I could have showed pictures, but I hadn't, so Mom had to suffer through me describing the suite I'd be sharing. "We've been chatting via text a lot and we had a video call via subspace while Data and I were on our way here, but I'm a little nervous about meeting them in person. What if they don't like me? What if they think I'm a snob because I've been a working actor? What if I can't adjust to dorm life? I mean, I've only ever shared a bathroom with Data."

"And me," Mom reminded me. "But I don't suppose I count."

"Well, you do, but you also don't," I said, and we laughed because she completely understood what I meant. Still, I felt compelled to add, "There is a parents' weekend once a semester. At the end of semester and at the end of April. You could come to one… you know… if you wanted to."

The smile that spread across my mother's face was matched only by my own. "I'd like that, but make sure you invite your father."

"I thought one of you could come in fall, the other in spring," I said. "You're closer. You're first."

"Speaking of closer, will your visits home be social, or purely for laundry purposes?"

"Home?" I was momentarily confused. The Enterprise would almost never be close enough for a weekend visit. "Oh, you mean your house." Mom's smile faded, and I jumped to correct the situation. "I didn't mean… I'd love to come for weekends," I said. "Social weekends. I have a feeling once the newness of school settles in, I'm going to need the kind of comfort and coddling only a mother can provide." I took a beat. "Though bringing home laundry is a time-honored college student ritual."

Mom reached across the table, captured my hand in hers, squeezed it, and released. "I'm glad, Zoe"

(=A=)

Stardate 46662.08

(Saturday, 30 August 2369, 3:50 PM local time)

Fairmont Hotel, San Francisco, Earth

"The wedding does not begin for two more hours," Data called to me while I was in the bathroom. "I do not understand why you must begin your preparations so early."

"I'm not 'beginning my preparations,' I said. "I'm taking advantage of this gorgeous tub." The bathroom in our room was positively luxurious, and the tub was both jetted and large enough for two. "When I'm done in the bath, then I'll begin my preparations. I hope you approve of my dress."

I hadn't known, when I bought the dress from a Cardassian tailor named Garak on Deep Space Nine, whether Data would be wearing his dress uniform or a tuxedo. I'd chosen a deep maroon color, even though it was technically still summer, because both the tailor in question and Keiko O'Brien had insisted it went well with my hair and skin tone.

Data hadn't seen it yet.

"Very well, dearest, I will leave you to soak. Would you like me to take your dress out of its garment bag to 'air out?'"

I hesitated. One the one hand, I did want it to have time to breathe, but on the other, I wanted it to be a surprise.

"Can you do that without looking too closely at it? I mean, you will have to zip it for me, but I'd rather you didn't see it until it was…"

"… on you?" Data came into the bathroom, barefoot and shirtless, just as I was sinking into the hot, bubbling water. "I am looking forward to that as well. I left the tissue on it, and merely removed it from the garment bag. As we have time, I thought I would join you in the bath. May I?"

I grinned and moved forward in the tub to give him space. "I'd love that." He skinned off the rest of his clothing and joined me in the tub, and I resettled myself against his chest. "Only two more nights," I said softly. "This month has gone too quickly."

I could almost feel my partner restraining himself from correcting me about the speed of time. "We must make the most of the time we have left," he said softly, and brought his hands up to trail soapy water over my breasts. "For now, relax."

I tried to do as he asked.

(=A=)

It wasn't quite two hours later that we arrived at the hotel's rooftop garden. The ceremony would be there, and the reception – dinner and dancing – was in the Venetian Room downstairs. Apparently a twentieth-century singer named Tony Bennett had debuted a famous song there. The song had caught his attention when we'd booked our room, and he'd sung it to me in the bath.

"I left my heart in San Francisco
High on a hill, it calls to me
To be where little cable cars climb halfway to the stars
The morning fog may chill the air, I don't care"

"Nice song," I'd quipped. "But you're actually leaving me in Connecticut, unless the schedule has changed."

That, of course, had led to a short – for Data – dissertation on the history of the song and the hotel. But all too soon we were dressed – he in a tuxedo, and me in the maroon dress I'd hidden from his view all summer.

The dress was a light-weight lattice of maroon straps over a silky sheath that matched the tone of my suntanned skin almost exactly. Only a subtle shimmer rendered the lining visible at all, which was the intent. It was both sexy – not quite form-fitting, but certainly form-revealing – but the trick was that the skirt had hidden pleats that allowed movement for dancing. I hadn't asked for the shoulder wrap that blended the maroon and peachy bronze in a delicate gauzy confection, but I'd sent Mr. Garak a kind note when I'd found it in the box. I'd decided that black heels were acceptable if they were suitably strappy; conveniently, I already owned a pair.

I didn't typically wear my hair up – unless it was in a messy bun just to keep it from my face - but the lines of the dress demanded it. Still, my updo was a soft one, with a few wisps of loose hair framing my face.

Data didn't catch his breath when he saw my completed look, but he stared long enough that it was notable. "I believe I am with the most aesthetically pleasing woman at this event," he said softly.

From anyone else, the technical language would have seemed smarmy. From my partner – my lover – the man who one day might be putting a ring on my finger – those words were a rave review. I'd learned that he always defaulted to formal language when he was truly moved or affected by something.

"Well, I've definitely got the most dashing date," I'd answered.

But there hadn't been time for much more chatter. We'd exited our room, entered the elevator, and arrived in the rooftop garden where we were asked which groom we represented, and were directed to Maddox's side.

As we took our seats, I glimpsed my mother and Ed on the opposite side of the aisle, caught the former's eye, and offered a tiny wave, which she returned. We likely wouldn't see one another during the reception, and that was fine.

The setting was amazing. The hotel was perched at the top of Nob Hill, and the roof offered a panoramic view of the city – the bridges, all lit – the streets, full of people enjoying the unofficial last weekend of summer – and the garden itself, with a centerpiece fountain that had been replaced with holographic water at some point but was still beautiful and tranquil.

Maddox wore his dress uniform, but Gratz was in a tuxedo. The ceremony was a secular one. The officiant was some vice-admiral from the JAG office – they said its name (it was from an agender race and had a breathing apparatus as well as a vocoder) – but I would have needed to hear it spoken slowly to grasp it. The grooms had written their own vows which were short, and surprisingly poignant, something, I hadn't expected from the smarmy officer and prickly shrink.

After the wedding party exited, we were asked to make way to the elevators for transfer down to the reception. There would be thirty minutes of cocktails to allow everyone time to relocate.

Data kept his hand at my back, ushering me through the crowd. Later, I knew, we'd rehash the wedding, discuss what we'd liked and what we hadn't. In that moment, we were simply enjoying the event.

And then someone called his name.

"Data? Is that… is that really you?" We both turned in the direction of the sound, which had come from a woman older than I was but not – I didn't think – quite Data's age. "I should have guessed you'd be at the wedding of Starfleet's leading cyberneticist."

"Commander Maddox and I are old acquaintances," Data responded to the woman. "But I am surprised to find you here." He paused, then nudged me slightly, so that I was both in line with him, and closer to him. "Zoe, this is Ard'rian Mackenzie. I believe I have mentioned her to you before. Ard'rian, this is my lifemate, Zoe Harris." He'd used the Standard version of the word this time, and I smiled and tried to remember what he'd told me about the other woman even as I offered my hand in greeting.

"Good to meet you," I said. "Lovely ceremony, don't you think?"

"Yes," she said, "It was. It's nice to meet you, too." And then she glanced at Data, "You look well. Apparently, there were no long-term effects from removing the sub-processor from your arm?"

"None whatsoever," he responded lightly.

But their exchange had jogged my memory enough to place her name. They'd met on a solo mission he'd had around the time I'd started my first year of school on the Enterprise – maybe a little bit before. She'd helped him out with his task and kissed him. He'd recognized her interest but hadn't returned it though he had returned her kiss before leaving, though for very different reasons. Her name had come up during one of our early conversations about dating and relationships. I wondered if I was supposed to be jealous, but she didn't seem like a threat.

"You also look well. I am somewhat surprised to see you here, however. I thought you had remained with your people, after resettlement."

"I did," she said, "for a year, and then I realized I wanted more. I considered Starfleet, but I felt too old to be a cadet, so I applied for engineering certifications, and was recruited to be a civilian employee of the Daystrom Institute, and I'm really happy there. Of course, it's technically an internship while I complete a formal degree, but… " She trailed off, making it obvious she wasn't going to finish the sentence.

I expected Data to want to catch up with her a bit more, but he surprised me. "I am glad you have found a place to belong."

"I have," she said. "But I'm still better with machines than people. I'm sorry, Zoe, I've completely ignored you. Are you also Starfleet?"

"I'm not," I said. "though the Enterprise has been my home for several years. Like you, I'm balancing work and study. I'm an actress." I used the feminine form of the word largely out of habit. You'd think all the time working in Protocol would have fixed that. "I'm also a student. My classes begin on Tuesday morning."

"An actress, really? That seems so incongruous with what I know of Data."

"Not at all," my partner put in. "Zoe and I have shared the stage many times." He glanced over at the bar. "I believe this is the optimal time to procure a drink," he stated, moving his hand to the small of my back once again. "Shall we?"

"Thank you, I'd like that."

"Excuse us?" Data asked Ard'rian.

"Of course," she said. I wasn't sure if I detected a note of wistfulness in her tone. "It was good meeting you, Zoe, and good to see you Data."

My partner guided me toward the bar and checked to see what I wanted. "A peach Bellini would be lovely," I said. It was, apparently, the official drink of the wedding. Data acquired two of the cool, fruity drinks, and we meandered toward the doors to the banquet hall, greeting a few officers who knew him on sight, though no one stopped us to chat.

"I was not expecting Ard'rian to be here," he said. "I apologize if you were uncomfortable."

"If it were Jenna we'd run into, I might have been," I said. "But I know your history with Ard'rian, and she wasn't giving off jealousy vibes. Besides, we both know a lot of people. You know more, of course, because you're older and have more life experience, but we're going to run into old… friends… from time to time. If we can't trust each other when we're literally touching…" I trailed off, not really wanting to prolong the conversation. Changing tacks, I said, "She seems like she's found her sweet spot, and I suspect you were an influence. That's a good thing."

"Yes," he agreed, "it is. Shall we find our seating assignment?" We'd made it to the table full of place cards.

"Good idea," I said.

I hadn't been sure, until we found our table, where we rated on the scale of guests, but we were only one table back from the head table, and our tablemates included other old friends – Commander Rose McInerny whom I'd met the previous summer at Starfleet Academy's graduation ceremony, along with her husband Leo, and Professor Wire-Whiskers, the Eeoauian scientist I'd met at the Hamal IV conference a few months earlier.

"Zoe!" he greeted, introducing us both to his mate, Bright-Star (she had a white star-shaped marking in the fur on her forehead). "I'm glad to see you made it to Earth! I have news to share; remind me after they feed us."

After that the evening became more fun. The food was excellent, and the six of us fell into easy chatter, catching up with each other's lives, and getting to know one another's partners. Leo, it turned out, was also Starfleet – a captain of engineering, and on faculty at the civilian engineering school in Scotland, where my friend Annette was studying - and Bright-Star was on the faculty at Yale, albeit in the music department."

"Whiskers says you'll be at Yale with us?" she asked. "Do you know which college?"

"Davenport," I said. "I mean, I'll be in Welch for this year, but…" I was interrupted by sight of her white tail-tip making contact with her husband's ear.

"My heart, what was that for?"

"Not telling me Zoe was one of mine."

"One of yours?"

"She's been assigned to Davenport."

"Oh. Ohhhh! One of yours!"

"Would you mind elaborating for the rest of us?" I asked, interrupting the interspousal banter.

"Zoe, I'm sorry. I should have said. I've been assigned as Davenport's dean this year," Bright-Star explained. "You understand our house system?"

I nodded. "I've been chatting with my suitemates. Apparently, we've got a princess suite."

The Starfleet types all wanted to know what that meant, and I explained. "Freshman live in dorms on the old campus, and the dorm I'm in has top-floor suites with two story common rooms and window seats; they call them 'princess suites.'"

"That sounds delightful," Rose commented. "Very different from living on a starship. Are you ready for that adjustment?"

"I have every confidence that Zoe will thrive at Yale," Data answered before I could. "Although she will be missed at home."

"A lover's statement if I ever heard one!" Whisker's said.

"Weddings bring out the sentimentality in us all," Rose responded. "And I think it's good to see our Data with a partner who is worthy of him."

I felt my face go hot and I reached for my water glass to distract myself, but it was empty. Data caught my movement and traded glasses with me, then reached for the pitcher in the center of our table to refill the one he'd taken.

Our conversation shifted, then, to Data's career, and current projects, most of which I knew about, and then to what Whiskers and Leo were each working on. Rose and Bright-Star were chatting about the incoming students at their respective institutions, but they made an effort to include me.

Still, I was relieved when all conversation ceased. Each groom's chief attendant – Maddox's sister and Gratz's college roommate and life-long best friend made a short toast, and then the music, which had been bland, background tunes until then, was turned up, and the two men took the floor for their first dance together.

It was surprisingly sweet, seeing two such prickly people sharing such a joyful moment, but when the song ended, they invited everyone to join them – they weren't doing traditional dances with parents – and Data invited me to the dance floor.

For the next couple of hours, we danced – mostly I danced with Data, but I danced with Leo and Whiskers also, while Data partnered Rose and Bright-Star, and then Dr. Gratz approached our table. Very politely, and somewhat tentatively, he asked me to dance with him. I glanced at Data who merely nodded. I had the feeling he was thinking of a way to remind me not to punch a groom at his own wedding.

I was wary, but I managed to be gracious. In fact, even attempted a joke, "If you're charging me a session fee for this dance…"

"I'm not. I wouldn't. I… " he sighed. "I owe you an apology. I hadn't realized no one had told you I specialized in confrontational therapy. It's actually a valid style."

"I've been told that," I admitted, "since then. But it wasn't what I needed."

"No, and… it's possible I saw something of myself in you. I also fell for a teacher when I was young. It was at university, not high school, but it wasn't healthy. He had all the power and I was innocent and impressionable. It was my first real relationship. And then… you'd mentioned Data's brother, you said you had spent extensive amounts of time alone with him."

Realization dawned. "You thought he was grooming me."

"I… yes. You were so young – you still are – and all I knew of Commander Data was what Bruce told me."

"Then you should have known that Data would never - could never - do that."

"I do now," he said. "Bruce said he and Data resolved some issues during the conference on Hamal IV."

"They did, but even so, we were surprised that you invited us here tonight. To be honest, when we got the invitation," I said, as we continued to move on the dance floor, "I thought your behavior might have to do with your husband's view of Data."

"You mean his crush?" Gratz laughed.

"Crush?" I was confused. "No, I meant his desire to take him apart."

"Oh, there was that. But Bruce has had a crush on Data for years. Every time he was honored for an achievement or awarded a medal, I had to hear about it, and then when you two hit the media last year…"

"But that was after… " I began. And then I understood. Maddox's 'crush' wasn't a serious thing, it was just part of his obsession about learning how Data functioned. Gratz had truly believed he was somehow protecting me by making me question my relationship."

"You were wrong, you know. Data and I… we're together because we fit."

"I realized that when I finally read the interviews you did, and when Bruce told me about meeting you. He wanted to introduce me, and I had to confess you'd been a patient, and an unsatisfied one, at that."

"He didn't know?" I couldn't hide my surprise.

"I don't typically discuss my cases at home. And when I learned who you were there was no way I was going to share it with Bruce. Please believe me, Ms. Harris, I am sincerely sorry for the way I behaved."

"It's Zoe," I corrected. "I'm not your patient."

"And I'm just Marvin… Marv, even."

"Deal." I hesitated. "Look, I hate to ask but… I'm starting at Yale in a couple of days. And I may need a therapist again. I don't like your therapeutic style, but I know your reputation" I smiled. "I might have done some reading, also. Could you recommend someone a bit more…"

"… traditional? Yes. Message my office. No, wait. I'll have Bruce contact Data when we get back from our honeymoon."

"Thank you," I said. The song was ending. "For the explanation and for the dance. And congratulations on your marriage. Data and I both hope you and Bruce are happy together."

I returned to my table, and Data, who was waiting for me. "You look less stressed than I anticipated."

"Well, it wasn't just a dance. I also slew a dragon. Kind of."

"I look forward to hearing the story."

"Can it wait? They're playing a waltz. I want to waltz with you."

"As you wish."

We danced a while longer, until they served the cake. With that last bit of formality over, the party loosened up a bit. The music got bouncier, and group dances started to happen: a hora; a bunny-hop led by an extremely obese Andorian whose antennae wiggled when he moved; a Scottish reel called by a Tellarite in a kilt. The chicken dance had been eliminated from the list – two of the Avian species present found it offensive - but Whiskers and Bright-Star made up for it with their phenomenal execution of the electric slide.

Eventually, the bandleader announced last call, and Bruce and Marvin made their way to each table to bid their guests goodnight before making their exit.

Our table was the last to disperse, with both Whiskers and Bright-Star promising Data that they'd keep watch over me, which led to the former exclaiming. "Ach. My news: Zoe, you made it into my class!"

Whiskers taught an extremely popular course at Yale: The Philosophy of AI, but freshman weren't generally admitted. I'd petitioned for a place in it when we'd met, months earlier, on Hamal IV, but Whiskers had said he couldn't guarantee a spot, even for me, and when I'd registered for my initial courses, I'd been wait-listed.

"Seriously?" I asked. "Enough people dropped already?"

"It happens. Students over-schedule or forget to include a core class for their major." He tilted his head to stare at me from his bright green eyes, and his ears twitched slightly. "Be sure you can handle the extra class in your schedule. First semester freshmen tend to overload because they're accustomed to high school courses."

"I'll be able to handle it," I affirmed, even though I wasn't entirely certain I could. "Thank you."

His tail coiled around my wrist, only to be joined by his mate's. "Welcome to Yale, Zoe. We'll see you in a couple of days."

(=A=)

Stardate 46663.51

(Sunday, 31 August 2369, 4:23 AM, local time)

Fairmont Hotel, San Francisco, Earth

Our hotel room didn't have a balcony, but it had a bay window, which is where I found myself sitting in the middle of the night. Data had initiated his dream program shortly after we'd gone to bed, around three, and it typically ran for ninety minutes when he didn't have to allow for duty shifts or other appointments. Apparently, his father had based it on the average REM cycle of a human being.

So why was I sitting on the window seat, wrapped in the complimentary bathrobe provided by the hotel at four-twenty-three in the morning? Because in an ironic turn of events, while my android partner was dreaming, I was unable to sleep, knowing that sometime the next day, Data would be dropping me at Yale and returning to the Enterprise alone.

Well, alone except for Spot, who was at Mom's house for the night.

I sighed and turned my face toward the window. There was no fog, just streetlights and starlight and the outlines of bridges… the city of San Francisco showing off for me.

"Zoe, are you alright?" Data's voice came from the bed.

"Couldn't sleep. Can't sleep."

"Did I injure you when we made love?"

When we'd returned to our room around midnight, Data had taken another look at me in my Garak Original dress and informed me that he was experiencing 'significant desire,' before peeling it off me, and taking me to bed. He'd then proceeded to demonstrate at least twenty-three of his multiple techniques before I'd lost count.

"You could never hurt me that way. Tire me out, maybe, and I might be slightly sore later, but… it's a good sore. I promise."

"Ah. Then… did Whiskers' remarks about managing your course load cause you to become anxious?" I heard him push the blankets off, and retrieve his own robe, on his way to joining me.

"Maybe a little. But I'm also thinking about the conversation I had with Marvin when we were dancing."

"Oh?"

"He apologized for treating me poorly. He hadn't known that no one told me he was a confrontational therapist, and he thought he saw a pattern repeating."

"A pattern?"

"One of his professors seduced him when he was at college. It wasn't an equitable relationship. And then… did you know Bruce has a bit of a crush on you?"

"I was not aware."

"I don't think it's a serious thing. Marvin didn't seem bothered by it. It does explain why he was so eager to transfer you, though." I grinned, "Can't blame him. It wasn't so long ago that I would have done anything just to be able to hold your hand. Touching you… having the right to touch you… I can't get enough of it. But you're leaving me at school and heading home tomorrow. And I won't get to… Maybe you should have stopped spending nights in bed with me. Get me used to being alone."

"I am certain that you do not mean that."

I sighed again. "No. Not really. I'm just… nervous, I guess. Anxious. Scared."

"I thought we had set your fears about our relationship to rest?"

I looked down at our joined hands and then back up into his moonlit face. "I seem to be finding whole new things to worry about. Like what if you get hurt on an away mission, like Mom did? Or what if you get killed? Or go into battle? Or…" I trailed off. "Am I being silly?"

"No. You are demonstrating that you care. Zoe, you are aware that any of those things are possible, but they are extremely unlikely. If something were to happen to cause me to be damaged – "

" – Injured – "

He accepted my correction with a dip of his head, and continued, " – you would be notified and either Starfleet or SOAR would ensure that you had transport to the Enterprise."

"I don't suppose you could promise not to let anything happen?"

"You know I cannot." My reply turned into a yawn. "It has been a long day, and I have planned an activity for this afternoon. Will you come back to bed, and try to sleep, so that you are well-rested and able to enjoy it?"

"I'll come back to bed. No promises on the sleep thing."

I let Data lead me back to the bed. He helped me remove my robe, watched as slid under the covers, and then shed his own robe and rejoined me. "May I hold you?" he asked, and I responded by scooting closer to settle into his arms.

I closed my eyes and tried to let the subtle thrum of my partner's internal systems – the sound that I considered to belong to me – to lull me into sleep, but even though I was tired, I still couldn't relax. Finally, after I'd tossed and turned for at least forty minutes, I realized what I needed.

After turning to face him, I reached my hand out to rest it on Data's chest. "I still can't sleep," I said. "And I think I know what we need to do so I can, if you're willing."

"Tell me."

By seven-thirty, we had both showered and dressed, and were standing in line at a trendy breakfast place in North Beach. "Sundays are usually crazy busy there," I'd explained as we'd made our way across the city. "But part of the fun is waiting in line with all the other people who want to eat there. Inside, there's only like twelve tables. But their food is incredible, and I've wanted to share it with you for two years."

"Two years?"

"The first time I came here was with Alynna, Theo, and Wes after mass one week when I was at Idyllwild."

"Ah."

"Will it kill your plans if we go back to the hotel and nap after we eat?" We had arranged a two pm check-out.

"It will not."

We were the third couple invited inside the restaurant, and Data found the open kitchen fascinating, as I suspected he would. We were given a table in the window where we could look out on Washington Square and see the people going to church or running in the park, or, in one case, a bunch of older women doing something that wasn't quite yoga and wasn't quite tai chi but looked like a blend of both.

The food was excellent. Our conversation was light. And by the end, I was ready for the nap I'd mentioned.

In fact, I fell asleep in the flitter.

(=A=)

Stardate 46665.08

(Sunday, 31 August 2369, 6:09 PM, local time)

Niantic, CT, Earth

Even after breakfast I hadn't been able to nap for more than two hours. We checked out of the Fairmont at noon, retrieved Spot from my mother's house (oddly, she and Ed were out, but they'd provided their access code), and at that point, Data was the keeper of our agenda.

Our final afternoon together began with a light lunch at the Alazar's Ethiopian restaurant, and then we stopped at the storage unit where the furniture from my apartment was kept. Inside, we retrieved a coffee table I'd promised my suitemates I'd supply, as well as a piece of art – the print of Mondrian's Tableau I that I'd had in said apartment.

"That wasn't on my list of things to retrieve," I said, when Data located it, and pulled it out of its spot.

"Perhaps not, but two years ago, it brought you comfort when you were on Earth, and I suspect it may do so again."

"You realize everyone else is going to have pictures of pop stars and movie posters on their walls?"

"You are not everyone else."

I laughed. "No, I guess I'm not. So, where to, now?""

"That is a surprise."

"You realize I can look at the display and know where you're taking me?"

"I am aware. However, I also trust that you will refrain from 'peeking,' because you enjoy surprises."

"Mmm. Make a stop at Red Sands so I can get a mocha and I will play by your rules."

(=A=)

The mocha was delicious, but even the extra caffeine wasn't enough to make up for my sleep deficit, so I dropped off again, which meant I literally couldn't peek at the coordinates for our destination. I didn't wake again until the flitter touched down.

In Connecticut.

At Nonna and Papa's house.

"Zoe, we are here."

"I can see that, but why are we…" I noticed several other flitters parked in the driveway and on the street. One had a California registration. Another was a rental. "Data, what's going on?"

"You are starting college tomorrow."

"I know that. It's kind of the whole reason we took a month-long vacation."

"You chose not to join your friends on their trip to Risa. You elected not to participate in the graduation ceremony on the Enterprise. In my studies of human development, I have learned that it is customary to mark such a transition with a celebration, so tonight, there will be a small party in your honor."

"You called my grandparents to arrange this?" I was incredulous. Touched. But incredulous.

"I am afraid I cannot take credit for anything except getting you here. Your Nonna contacted me before we left the Enterprise, and I suggested what you might like."

"What did you suggest?"

"You will find out when we leave the aircar and enter the house."

I grinned and leaned over to kiss him with coffee-stained lips. "There you go with the being-right again." But part of me was a little bit annoyed. I didn't want a party. I wanted our last night together to be just us.

(=A=)

The party turned out to be very warm and low key. Nonna and Papa made a fuss, of course, but grandparents are sort of entitled to that. "Oh, bella mia," my grandmother gushed, "it's so good to have you back here." She folded me against her ample bosom, and I was surrounded by the scent of Chanel No.5. "You and Data are staying here tonight; I hope you don't mind?"

I did, but only a little. "No, Nonna, it's fine. Data said this was all your idea."

My grandfather had been greeting Data while Nonna had me in her clutches, but she pushed me away then. "Data! My favorite granddaughter's handsome amichetto. Welcome to our home."

"Thank you, Mrs. Morelli," Data began but my grandmother cut him off. "Friends call me Delia she said. But you are family, so you may use my name or call me Nonna, as Zoe does. And my husband, you call him Luigi or Papa."

Data met my eyes over my grandmother's gray-haired head. And I shrugged. To her, her said, "Thank you, Nonna."

"Now, go leave your bags, let the cat out of her crate, freshen up, and then come through to the back yard. We have a barbecue going. Fish, burgers, and tofu patties – something for everyone."

My grandparents had been redoing their back yard the last time I'd seen the house, the summer before. I'd never gotten to experience the finished product, so I was looking forward to seeing it all done up.

Somewhat refreshed, Data and I exited the house to find ourselves under an ivy-covered pergola with twinkle lights twisted around it. The patio, which had built in bench seats around three sides, stretched beneath it all the way across the yard. Several and low tables had been placed within easy reach of anyone sitting on the benches, and in the center, there was a grill-top over a fire pit. Rather than having the big floodlights on, my grandparents had placed citronella candles and flameless tea-lights on the tables and on shelves and niches built into the fence.

One side of the deck was open, and there was a strip of grass and then an in-ground lap pool. Only about a meter and a half deep, and about four lanes wide, it was literally meant for exercise and summertime floating.

More candles, I noticed, had been floated in the pool.

It was all very simple and lovely and homespun, and my annoyance dissipated very quickly.

As we entered the space everyone came to greet us. Mom and Ed, Dad and Gia, Uncle Zane, Annette and Dana - and even Wes - who were all in universities (Starfleet Academy was still a university) on Earth but had the next day off for the Labor Day holiday. It was a chaotic mess of hugs and kisses and everyone talking over each other.

"Dad, I thought your gig on Winter lasted til Christmas?"

"I put my assistant in charge for a couple of weeks. We're in touch every day, and she's enjoying getting to conduct almost every performance."

"Is Zeke here, too?"

"No, he's with Tony and Nunzia tonight. Gia and I will be spending some time with them before we head back. They send their love, though, and want you to know, you're welcome to call or visit if you need a break. They'd love to get to know you better."

"Oh, nice! Tell them thank you."

"We will. If your schedule permits, we might even steal you for a dinner."

I hugged my father and my stepmother and let all four of my parents lead Data and me to the seats that had been designated for us.

Dana practically squealed. "Zoe! You made it!"

"We thought you'd never get here!" Annette added.

"I was surprised when Data arrived on campus without you the other day," Wes said.

I turned to Data, "So, when you went to the Academy to see him… you weren't just there as Beverly's proxy?"

"That is inaccurate. I relayed the doctor's message, and took Wes to lunch, as she'd requested, and then I invited him to join us here, as well as another guest."

My uncle Zane stepped out of the shadows to add his greetings. "Kiddo, I was so surprised to be invited here; but Baja's been really good to me. I bought a house there. New album launches next month."

"Oh my god, Zane, that's awesome!"

One the initial greetings were over, the evening mellowed. Food was served: burgers, hot dogs, fish and tofu, corn on the cob, devilled eggs, and a couple of different salads were on the menu, and dessert was a selection of fruit pies. I chose strawberry-rhubarb with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and shared it with Data, who seemed intrigued by the sweet-tart combination.

After dessert the conversation became quieter, and Zane began strumming the guitar he always had with him. If he was hoping for a sing-a-long he was disappointed, but as the fire began to flicker and dim, Data asked if he might borrow Zane's instrument.

My uncle seemed surprised, but handed the guitar to Data, who tweaked the tuning – super android hearing was better than that of even the best musician, as I knew from experience – and began to play. I was the only one there who even knew my boyfriend played guitar, so the change in players drew the attention of everyone there.

Over his playing, Data explained, "Several months ago, in an effort to understand Zoe better, I began to study folk music, and I was drawn to a twentieth-century singer and songwriter who went by the name 'John Denver.' Not quite four months ago, I shared one of his songs with Zoe, to express a new… feeling… I was experiencing. If you will all allow, I would like to sing another of his songs for her tonight. I will be leaving in an interstellar yacht, rather than a 'jet plane,' but I believe the sentiment is appropriate for our last night together for a while."

There were various encouraging murmurs, but Data met my eyes before he began to sing.

All my bags are packed
I'm ready to go
I'm standin' here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye
But the dawn is breakin'
It's early morn
The taxi's waitin'
He's blowin' his horn
Already I'm so lonesome
I could die

If the simplistic, almost eager, lyrics seemed at odds with Data's typically rational demeanor, no one mentioned it. Rather, both my sets of parents and my grandparents looked at each other with that dewy gaze that all couples share when they're remembering their own younger days, my uncle pulled a personal comm out of his pocket and send a message to… someone. Annette, Dana, and Wes seemed both touched and a bit embarrassed. They still saw Data as a teacher and colleague.

So, kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
'Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go

As for me? I was melting. I was also thinking about every conversation we'd had over the last few months, about surviving separation, about why Data was ready to move our relationship forward and why I'd asked for time to adjust before doing so. I remembered a question I'd asked him a year before: Will there ever be a time when one of us isn't leaving?

At that point, Data had assured me that there would, and I'd believed him.

I still believed him.

But apparently before that time came, we would have to endure a lot of time apart.

Now the time has come to leave you
One more time
Let me kiss you
Then close your eyes
I'll be on my way
Dream about the days to come
When I won't have to leave alone
About the times, I won't have to say

Oh, kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
'Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go

I couldn't help it: as soon as the last chord faded away, I took the guitar from his hands and handed it back to my uncle. Then I kissed him.

(=A=)

Stardate 46667.02

(Monday, 1 September 2369, 11:06 AM)

Welch Hall, Yale University, New Haven, CT, Earth

I've always had this thing with vacations. While I was on vacation, I wanted them to last forever, but as soon as we got to the last moments before they ended, I just wanted to be done. Make the break, start anew.

I could have had a leisurely morning with Data and my grandparents. I could have walked on the beach, lingered over breakfast and stopped for coffee before we got to Yale.

Instead, I was anxious to just get the part where my boyfriend had to leave over with.

We arrived on campus shortly after eleven. Data made sure my mother would get her picture of me receiving my key, and then we handed my belongings over to the campus transport crew to be brought to my room, while we walked there.

My suitemates were not home, but they'd left a note welcoming me, and explaining which bathroom shelves were mine.

Data took more pictures to be shared with my family and our friends on the Enterprise: me in front of the (non-functional) fireplace in the common room. Me unpacking. Me sitting on the freshly-made bed in my room, with the print of Tableau I above it. (Pictures of Data and me, one of his father, and one of Lal, were also on display, but people would understand the Mondrian.)

We placed Data's footlocker at the foot of my bed, and I smiled. It fit there perfectly.

But eventually, there was no more unpacking. My clothes were all hung or put in the dresser with android precision. My cello case was stored in my closet, and my cello placed on a stand in the corner. My comm-badge, initially despised and later worn with honor, was the hardest piece to place.

"Should I give this back to you?" I asked.

"No," Data answered. "You may find it useful if you choose to interact with the local SOAR chapter, or if you visit Wesley at the Academy. In addition, it will be better to have it with you when you next travel home."

"Okay," I said. We left my room and stood in front of the coffee table in the common room. "Okay. Then, I guess this is goodbye." I could feel tears welling in my eyes.

Data pulled me close and I rested my head against his chest for a long moment. "This is not goodbye," my partner stated firmly. "It is only goodbye-for-now. This is just another etude we must master, and I have every confidence that we will succeed."

"I love you," I told him.

"I am eternally devoted to you," Data responded. We shared a slow kiss, and then he brushed another across my hair, and then he pushed me gently away. "I must go now, dearest. I will contact you before midnight, so that you can go to bed at a reasonable hour."

I chuckled softly. "You never stop taking care of me."

"No. I never will."

We'd already decided that I wouldn't walk him back to the flitter, that I wanted my last memory of his presence to be in my room, as if his essence would remain with me.

"Okay."

One more kiss, and he was out the door.

(=A=)

I kept my crying in check as long as I could, but when Margo, Chuni, and Anjali arrived home about an hour after Data left, they found me on the couch, tear-stained and flipping channels on the entertainment system

"Zoe welcome, we're glad you made it." Anjali came to sit with me.

"Me, too," I said. "I'm glad to finally meet you all face to face. I'm just a little…"

Margo sat on my other side. "You said goodbye to Data, right?"

"Yeah."

"Would he want you to be sad?" she persisted. "Because when I said goodbye to my boyfriend before he left for Mars, he made me promise to have as much fun as I could."

I managed a real smile at that. "Data said I should 'experience everything open to me."

Chuni sat on the coffee table, facing us. "There's a frisbee tag game in the courtyard in an hour. I say we go experience that, and then find some pizza. Zoe, you in?"

I considered. On the one hand, I had zero interest in frisbee anything. On the other hand, it was a typical college event, and I'd promised Data – I'd promised myself – that I'd build a support system, and these three women were offering that.

"I'm in," I said, standing up. "Let me just freshen up." I made haste in the bathroom and was ready in just a few minutes, but when I came out, Anjali was grinning.

"We have to do something before we leave," she said. "Everyone stand in front of the fireplace." She had a drone camera and she hovered it in front of this. "Important college ritual," she announced. "First official picture of the Davenport princesses of 2373."

We all laughed, and the drone caught us that way. Young. Carefree. Hopeful.

(=A=)

Data's comm came through at 11:47 that night.

"Zoe," he greeted. "Dearest. Did you have a good afternoon?"

"Surprisingly, I said, "It was. But before I tell you about it, I have another picture for you to share with everyone." I sent him a copy of the photo Anjali had taken earlier.

We talked for a few minutes more, but I was tired, and he was still navigating extremely well-traveled space, so keeping it short was in both our interests. Before I signed off, however, I requested, "The song you sang last night… could you sing it for me again?"

Data's lips curved up in a slight smile. "Certainly."

As we each raised our hands to the monitor the way we always did when we were apart, he sang softly.

Kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
'Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go…

---

Notes: If you haven't already read them, the one-shots How About You? Cashew (M-rated), and Eight Elastics take place before/during the previous chapter, "Transition – Part I." Also, I forgot to credit Javanyet for her phrase, "hard-wired into his neural net," in the previous chapter. The conversation with Zoe that Emily references takes place in chapter 6 of this story. I've bent the Yale calendar somewhat from what it is in contemporary times, but hey, this is fiction. Besides, starting school before Labor Day is just wrong. "Leavin' on a Jet Plane" was written by John Denver, though many have recorded it. (Revised 29 September 2019)