Noel – Part I

Content Warning: While not particularly explicit (except for one scene), this chapter should be considered M-Rated for some of the themes it covers. As well, this is a reminder that the CRUSH-universe, while close to canon, has always been an AU, and this chapter diverges from it more than most, though everything eventually ends up in almost the same place.

Stardate 46975.16
(Monday, 22 December 2369, 22:26 hours, ship's time)
U.S.S. Enterprise

Five finals, four performances of Jordan's one-act play, three roommates who squealed like the teenagers we all technically were when I showed them my engagement ring, two long days and nights of travel made easier by having my best friend as a companion, and finally, twenty-one days after I'd last seen Data, one very familiar transporter room shimmered into view and Dana and I shared a look before stepping off the platform and into the welcoming embraces of her parents and my fiancé.

Fiancé.

Data was my fiancé.

And even if it was only for a few weeks, I was home.

"Permission to come aboard?" I teased, addressing him, rather than the transporter operator. More softly, I said, "I've missed you so much."

"Dearest," my partner greeted me equally quietly. "I am glad to see you." He bent to brush a chaste kiss across my lips, then straightened, and turned to my friend. "Dana, welcome back to the Enterprise. Zoe and I will be hosting a small gathering in our quarters, tomorrow evening. I hope you and your parents will attend."

The blonde woman pulled herself away from her security officer father and operations officer mother and grinned at us. "Thank you, I'm sure we will. Zoe… I'm glad we got to travel together. We'll hang out, over the break, yes?"

"Oh, there will be hanging," I confirmed. "Definitely."

The Swensons left the room ahead of us, while Data confirmed that we were the last passengers from the transport vessel we'd traveled on. Then he took control of my luggage and we headed to our quarters.

"This 'gathering' we're hosting," I began as we headed toward the turbolift. "I know I said I wanted to be there when we told people we were engaged, but I didn't mean you had to plan a party."

"It is not merely to announce our engagement, although we will be doing that," my partner shared. "It is also to welcome you home for the holidays, and to continue your tradition of having our friends help to decorate our Christmas tree."

"My tradition?" We stepped inside the lift and waited for the doors to close.

"Deck two," Data said. Then he answered my question. Or started to. "Last year, when I was… away… you invited people over to assist you in trimming our tree, did you not?"

"I did," I said, "but that wasn't meant to start a tradition. It was… I'd just come home from Idyllwild a couple weeks before, and even though I'd technically moved in with you that May, I hadn't really settled in. And then we all thought you were lost, so I wasn't even… It was a way to make me feel like I belonged in your quarters. Like they were ours. And, to give myself hope that you'd find a way to survive. Which you did."

"And now you are home from your first semester at university, returning to quarters that are truly ours, as we moved into them together, and decorated them as a couple. As such, I believe it only appropriate that we continue your tradition and make it ours."

The lift doors opened, and we stepped out together.

"Alright, then, a tree-trimming engagement party. Anything else, I should know?"

But Data didn't answer me until we'd walked down the few meters of corridor that led to our door and were inside our own space. Then he released the handle of my suitcase and reached for me in the way lovers have reached for one another since the dawn of time. The kiss he gave me then – the one we shared – was definitely not chaste.

When I had to break the kiss in order to breathe, he finally spoke. "I am very glad to have you home, Zoe," he said.

"I'm very glad to be home," I answered. "And I'd love to demonstrate how glad, but I'm also really hungry. Do you mind if I eat something?"

His yellow eyes seemed to soften. "You know that your needs are never something to be 'minded,' dearest. They are simply a part of who you are. If you would like to shower and change, I will replicate a meal for you. I am aware you have a strong distaste for 'smelling like shuttlecraft.'"

I laughed. "So, I do. Thank you. I won't be long. And you know what I like. Surprise me?"

"Very well."

I dragged my suitcase into our bedroom and went to shower and change into one of Data's old uniform tees and a pair of sweatpants. I'd bought something prettier – an engaged woman probably should wear something nice to lounge in once in a while – but just then, I wanted a return to normal. Well, my normal.

Returning to our living room, I found the lights dimmed to a romantic level, a row of lid candles placed across the coffee table, and a lit – but otherwise bare – Christmas tree standing against the far wall of our quarters. The presents my parents had sent home with Data weeks before were already arranged below it, along with a few others – I had more to add, of course – and on a plant stand next to the tree was the nutcracker that had been sent to me across time a year before.

"You've been busy," I commented. I sniffed the air. "Very busy. Moussaka?"

"Eggplant lasagna."

"Variations on a theme. I like it."

"I hoped you would approve."

I smiled to show that indeed, I did. "Are you joining me?"

Data gestured to the coffee table, where he'd arranged two placemats. "I am. I assumed you would prefer a casual dinner, as it is your first night home, and the hour is late. If you would rather relocate to the dining table – "

I cut him off with a kiss, which he returned with enthusiasm. Then I assured him, "You assumed correctly. This is perfect. Low lights. Late dinner. Are we watching a video as well, or just catching up?"

"Do you have a preference?"

I brushed by him, letting my hands linger on his chest for a moment as I did so, and took my usual seat on our couch. "Catching up is good. I've missed being able to talk with you without counting minutes or worrying that if one of paused it was because there was a glitch in the relay."

"I, too, have missed our free-flowing conversations, Zoe. Shall we eat?"

"Definitely."

Data separated the single serving of lasagna onto two plates and did the same with the salad he'd ordered with it. "I am afraid you will not find this as good as the food in the Yale Commons."

"Maybe if you'd processed in with it, led by a marching band in full regalia," I teased. "They actually did that, you know, for our holiday dinner."

"That was the dinner you began to tell me about two weeks ago, and then did not because our conversation got… sidetracked."

"Well, I'm sorry. It's not my fault you chose that moment to remove your uniform jacket. You know I can't think straight when I see you unbuttoned."

"You accused me of doing a subspace strip-tease."

"Wishful thinking?"

"I would not do such a thing on an open channel, Zoe. You know this."

"I know."

"You also know that I removed my jacket that night because Spot coughed a hairball onto my shoulder."

"She does have excellent aim… could I have more water, please?" Data refilled my water glass. "Thank you."

"You are welcome, Zoe." He paused. "I understand that you miss our physical intimacy. You are not alone in this."

"I know. But…"

"But it is 'easier' for me, despite the fact that I now experience desire for you." He completed the sentence for me. "Yes, that is true. I would make it 'easier' for you if I could."

"I know." I looked down at the ring on my left hand. "This helps," I said, holding my hand up for a moment. "I'm not sure why. And maybe it doesn't say much for me that I need a tangible reminder, but – "

"No," Data cut me off. "There is nothing wrong in you finding comfort in your ring, Zoe. Our commitment to each other is neither more or less permanent because of it, but it represents a public declaration, an official statement."

"And it's a piece of you. I didn't say it at the time, but it meant a lot – it means so much – that you made it from you. I understand the 'why' of it; you've said more than once that I've become part of your programming. I'd like to understand the 'how.'"

"The diamond was procured from a jeweler, as most such things are. The band was once a tube clamp in my arm."

"The same arm you gave yourself fake tendonitis in?"

"Yes."

"And it wasn't a problem to replace the part?"

"It was not."

I pushed my plate slightly away and adjusted my position on the couch, so I was cuddled up to him. His arm came around me, but I reached for the opposite hand, the one on the side the clamp had come from, and examined it, tracing the lines on his palm. We sat there for a while, just being quiet. Eventually, we would clean up the remains of our meal and go to bed, but for the first time in months, I wasn't counting seconds in the back of my mind, and it was nice just to be.

(=A=)

Stardate 46977.56
(Tuesday, 23 December 2369, 19:26 hours, ship's time)
U.S.S. Enterprise

"Are you sure I look okay?" I asked for at least the fifth time in half an hour. If we had only been hosting a tree-trimming party, I would have just worn jeans and a festive top, but we were also announcing our engagement to Data's colleagues and our friends – our chosen family, really – on the Enterprise, and that had set my nerves on edge.

Data stepped away from our dining table, which he had set up with a warming pot of hot spiced cider and an array of finger-foods – both savory and sweet – for our expected guests. Even though he'd done so at least four times before, he surveyed my outfit: black boots, black pants and a deep blue V-neck sweater with gold metallic flecks in it. Then he reached up to tuck a stray piece of my hair back behind my hear. "As I have already told you six times this evening, you have chosen an outfit that is appropriate for the evening. The gold chain you are wearing is simple and tasteful, and the earrings I gave you for our first holiday together complement your attire. Please cease worrying, Zoe. Our friends have always supported our relationship. I am certain they will be pleased by this evolution of it."

I blushed faintly. "Has it really been six times?"

"It has."

"Sorry."

"Do not be."

"How many times have I told you that I love you today?"

"Seven. But that is something you may repeat as often as you wish."

But I didn't. Instead I slid my hands up his chest and let them rest there, and then stood on tiptoe to capture his lips in a kiss. "How 'bout if I just tell you how handsome you are, instead?"

I felt his reflexive swallow and my smile broadened to a grin against his lips, but he set me away from him. "We cannot afford to let desire take over right now, dearest. Our guests are due at any moment."

"Spoilsport," I grumbled. But it was good-natured, and a few moments of flirtation had calmed my nerves.

The annunciator sounded only a moment or two later, and the party came in, as I read in a book once. Geordi was among the first to arrive, along with Robin Lefler and Wesley, whose own transport from Earth had only met with the ship that morning.

"Hey, Zoe. How's your cushy Ivy League education going?" the latter asked as we exchanged a perfunctory hug. If I detected a bit of bitterness in his question, I was pretty sure it wasn't personal. We'd had enough conversations over the last semester that I knew he wasn't entirely happy at the Academy.

"Oh, you know, we trust fund babies always manage," I teased back. Addressing the group, I added in a more serious tone, "Parts of it have been more challenging than I expected. Data can tell you; I came close to failing my Philosophy of AI course."

"Failing? Really?" Geordi seemed surprised.

"I'm so not exaggerating. Whiskers is a good teacher, but I just am not techy enough for certain aspects of the class. And knowing Data made it harder, because I was confusing intelligence and sentience a lot." I shrugged. "Grades aren't back yet, but I'm pretty sure I'll end up with a low B or high C, and I'm fine with that." I took a beat, "But you're not here to hear me whine about being a college freshman. And mostly it's been good. I mean, I've missed Data a lot…"

"He's missed you, too," Geordi put in.

"And it's interesting hearing about your college experience, Zo'." Robin added. "The Academy is a lot more structured than a conventional university."

"I'm betting the parties are a lot tamer, too, but… I was told the purpose of this gathering was to decorate our disturbingly bare tree…."

"… and to eat festive food," Data finished for me.

"Oh! I brought an ornament!" Robin didn't quite squeal. "I thought…" She reached into a small bag she'd been carrying. "I thought you'd both appreciate this. I made it out of one of those game sets we all got addicted to last year. Don't worry though… it's deactivated."

She handed over a wire and glass contraption that reflected light beautifully.

"Ensign Lefler this is a remarkable piece of art," Data said.

"Thank you, sir."

"It's lovely, Robin, really. Would you choose a branch for it?"

"You don't have a system?"

I glanced at Data and he responded with a tiny shake of his head. "Traditionally small ornaments go towards the top but other than that, no. Pick a branch. Maybe one with a light so it'll show up really well?"

"Gotcha." And the enthusiastic ensign went to put her offering on the tree. It was no longer bare – we'd added the ornaments my friends and family had created the previous year – but it was still pretty naked.

We all saw Wes following her with his gaze. "Go help her," Geordi suggested. "You can pretend it's from both of you."

"I brought an ornament!" Wes protested. He produced a San Francisco cable car made of old computer components. "I thought it would remind you of your summer at Idyllwild," he said, "and of Data's time at the Academy."

"Wesley, that was very thoughtful," Data observed. "Thank you."

"It's perfect, really," I said, grinning.

"My turn," Geordi said, and he dangled a tiny shuttlecraft in the air for Data and me to see. "In memory of our flying lessons, Zo' - yours and mine – and the times you piloted the runabout to Terlina."

"Did Data tell you he made me pilot the captain's yacht last summer?"

"Tell me? Whose idea do you think it was?"

"Really?" I glanced from one man to the next. "Really?"

"It was a mutual decision, Zoe, but Geordi was as enthusiastic about it as I was."

"I suppose what I should be asking is… did either of you bother to clear it with Captain Picard?" Both android and human managed to look chagrinned. "Don't think I won't hold it over both your heads," I practically sang. Then I gave Geordi an impulsive hug. "I love the ornament. Thank you."

He added it to the tree and became the first to attack the cider and nibbles just in time for Will and Deanna to come in, along with Dana and Josh.

"Zoe!" My former classmate grabbed me in a bear hug. "It's good to see you. How's Yale?"

"Yale's good. How's… wait… where did you end up?"

"Nowhere. Gap year. Spent time surfing on Pacifica. Visited Akkalla – and yes – Rryl and Serena's baby is as precious as she looks in pictures. Came back here about two weeks ago. And I'll be doing correspondence classes at Caprica U starting in January to start getting general ed out of the way while I do some snowboarding."

"On Earth?" I asked, hopefully.

"No such luck," Dana said. "He's going to your old stomping ground – Winter."

"Oh, Winter's awesome!" I said. "I'd love to go back sometime. Stay longer." I hadn't realized it was true until I said it.

"Perhaps you will be able to do another summer production," Data suggested. "A full contract instead of a limited run?"

"I'll look into it… except…" I let my sentence trail off. He knew what I'd say. A contract anywhere would mean not coming home. Not seeing him. As if being separated all school year wasn't enough.

"Perhaps we should discuss it later," my partner said, then he greeted our other two guests. "Counselor, Commander, we have been remiss. Welcome to our home."

"Nonsense," Deanna said, turning toward us with a chocolate confection in one hand. "Geordi has been feeding us, and I don't mind waiting while Zoe reunites with her friends. Speaking of – Worf sends his apologies; Alexander had a party with some of the other children from school, and Guinan asked that we deliver this." She held up an ornament shaped like a hat, with the hand that wasn't holding chocolate. "I hope playing courier earns me a hug," she added, teasing.

I laughed. "Hugs are on offer for pretty much everyone tonight. 'Tis the season, and all that. I'm glad you came. I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too," the Betazoid woman said. She popped the last of her chocolate into her mouth and finished it before she embraced me. "I've heard you and Data are making an announcement tonight?" Her question was barely a whisper.

"I thought he hadn't told anyone."

"Only me," she said. "I promise."

We stepped apart. "Any chance you're free for lunch tomorrow, even though it's Christmas Eve?" I asked.

"I kept the day open for you."

"Hey," Will Riker interrupted us, breaking off from his murmured conversation with Data and Geordi. "Don't I get a hug from my favorite college girl, too?"

Across the room, I saw Dana and Josh share a look at Will's statement and go back to their chat with Wes and Robin. All four, I saw, had plates and drinks. Good.

"Better not let Data hear you say that," I teased, knowing my partner had heard every word. Will's embrace was as warm as he was. "There's this pub off campus where all the drama majors hang out… they make a burger you would love. It's a double patty with caramelized onions and two kinds of cheese…"

"Data, when are you taking Zoe back? You need a co-pilot?"

"I will consider your offer, sir," Data deadpanned, "if you will let go of my girlfriend."

Will backed away from me good-naturedly. "Fair enough. Anyway, it's my duty to present this to both of you from Deanna and me." And he manifested (because really, those uniforms don't have discernible pockets – I've looked – but every officer I've met can find any tool they need relatively easily) a small box which he presented to Data.

We stood together, and I watched as my fiancé's long fingers plucked open the box. Inside, nestled in red tissue, were a pair of frosted glass instruments - based on the scale, they were a violin and a cello – each with golden strings, and darker metal forming the scrollwork and end pieces. Also gold were the bows, but what made the set truly special was that they were joined by a gold ribbon, making the pair of instruments into one piece.

They were so lovely I couldn't help the tears that sprang into my eyes, and I think Data was moved as well. "Oh, Deanna…" I whispered, for the counselor had sensed my response and come to watch.

"Counselor, Commander – this is a beautiful addition to our collection," Data said.

"Come pick a branch," I invited. "I want to see what Dana and Josh added, also."

And so, we went to the tree, where Will picked a high branch for the stringed instruments. When he was done, my former classmates showed me their additions: Dana had added a carousel horse. "I couldn't find a Ferris wheel or roller coaster, but I thought was close enough."

"I can't believe we didn't think to add a carousel!" I said.

"Right?" she said.

"Guys, that assignment is so over…." Josh interrupted. Sheepishly, he added, "Sorry, Data."

I shared a brief look with my partner. My friends didn't know that Data and I had shared a last ride on the Ferris wheel after they'd left our amusement park program several years before, but they knew the program was special to me. And that's what mattered.

"There is nothing to apologize for, Joshua," Data said, using the younger man's full first name. "May we see your contribution to our collection?"

"Oh, yeah, it's awesome!" And he directed our attention to a gold figure on a surfboard. "It really should be a girl, because it's Zoe who surfs, but…"

"No, Josh, you're right; it's awesome," I said.

"Indeed. It is…quite fitting," Data added.

"I quite agree," a deeper voice chimed in and we all turned to see Captain Picard, standing in our quarters with Beverly Crusher. "I'm sorry I was delayed. Data, thank you for inviting me. Zoe, welcome home."

"You are not late, sir, the schedule was meant to be an open one," Data assured, as I said,

"Thank you, sir. It's good to be back."

The captain extended his hand, and I shook it, noting that his palms were warm and dry. "I hope you'll make time to join me for tea before you return to school," the captain said, and I knew, because we'd been boxing partners for over a year, and had progressed to the occasional – well one-time – board game, that he meant it.

"I'm pretty sure I'm at your disposal, sir," I said.

Beverly stepped between us then and gave me a maternal squeeze. "That's from your mother as well as me," she said, and we both laughed. "But this is just from me, to both of you." She gave the ornament to Data, who displayed it: the traditional comedy and tragedy masks in colored glass.

"Doctor, thank you. It suits us both. Would you like to hang it?"

"Sure, Data."

"I've also brought something," Captain Picard said. "I've been told that the two of you have been reading old nautical adventures together, and I know you appreciated the loan of my yacht last summer. This, then, is a reminder of both those things, and of your joint penchant for exploration, not just of space, but of more human interests like art, music, and theatre."

He presented his ornament to me, and I gasped softly, because it was a ship in a bottle, but it wasn't just any ship. It was a miniature representation of the sailing vessel Calypso, that had been used by the oceanographer and environmentalist Jacques Cousteau on twentieth-century Earth.

"Ohhh, this is lovely. Data… look…"

My fiancé came to examine the captain's gift. "It is a fine piece, sir. Thank you. Will you add it to our tree?"

"I'd be honored, Data. Zoe, I'm glad you like it."

"Very much, sir."

Once the last ornament had been hung people were more willing to eat and drink. We'd arranged extra seating, and everyone made themselves comfortable. Those who didn't know the history of my nutcracker were treated to the story, from Data's own lips, and then, during a slight lull in the conversation Data left his chair, touched me on the shoulder.

Our friends seemed to sense an announcement was imminent, especially when I rose to stand with him.

"Captain Picard," Data began, "and everyone. As our closest friends and colleagues and what Zoe refers to as 'chosen family,' we are honored that you have all helped to make our quarters festive for the holidays. However, we have been a bit duplicitous, as there is another purpose for this gathering. You see, Zoe and I wish to share with you that…"

Laughing, I placed a finger across my beloved's lips. "Data, we talked about this. Short, sweet, to the point." Turning back to our friends I said, "What Data is trying to tell you is that while he was visiting my family and me on Earth last month, he asked me to marry him." I held up my left hand, where my engagement ring sparkled, "And I accepted."

The thing about engagements is that even when you know they're coming - even when they seem inevitable – they're still a delightful surprise. Our already-pleasant evening of smiles and laughter became one of cheers and applause and another, more boisterous round of embraces, for both of us this time, including one, rather stiff and formal, from the captain.

"You are very young, Zoe, and certainly Data is the most unique being I've ever met. But I have seen what the two of you have already survived and I am confident your relationship will be lasting and fulfilling for you both." And then he kissed my cheeks, the way the French have done for centuries, though I'm pretty sure the champagne we'd popped might have influenced that a little.

I thanked him for his words, of course. I thanked everyone for their good wishes. But when I turned my head, the lights on the tree reminded me of the bright eyes of a pigeon, and I was struck with a sense of foreboding that stayed with me through the rest of the night and into the next day.

(=A=)

Stardate 46975.84
(Thursday, 25 December 2369, 04:23 hours, ship's time)
U.S.S. Enterprise

We'd spent Christmas Eve quietly. Data had done a four-hour watch on the bridge so that officers with families could attend a party on one of the holodecks, and later, we'd attended the traditional service in the ship's chapel, singing carols, as we had the previous year. His attendance was a gift to me, I knew, just as he knew I didn't expect or require it. One day, we'd find time to talk about what, if anything, he got out of these rituals, but that day was yet to come.

After the service, we'd returned to our quarters and opened the gifts my mother had sent. Books and clothes, mostly, for both of us, but also some tea and chocolate that weren't available in the replicator, and a few toys for Spot. Dad and Gia had also sent gifts and theirs were in a similar vein. Gran had offered us the use of the farmhouse for part of my winter break. "…since you won't want to be lovering in your father's house, and I will be travelling during most of January. I know you have a Jungle Hideaway, but Centaurus is more practical for short trips," she'd written. She wasn't wrong.

"We can spend some time there before you return to school, if you wish," Data said. "I have never experienced life on a working farm."

"Pack snow boots," I suggested. "I know the cold won't bother you, but even android feet get wet."

He'd agreed to do so.

My other grandparents had sent a warm letter and an invitation to dinner when I returned to Earth. "And bring your android if he escorts you, bella," Nonna had added, but she was teasing when she said it.

"She will never cease referring to me that way, will she?" Data asked.

"Probably not. But she doesn't mean it as a slur, really. She's just old. And sort of… her."

"I understand. I will endeavor to find it charming."

"That's probably best."

By zero-two hundred hours, we'd had a light dinner, and were cuddled into our bed, my head resting on Data's chest. "I think I've missed this – just snuggling together – as much as I've missed sex," I said softly.

His voice was equally quiet when he replied, "I, too, Zoe, have missed these quiet moments." He paused then clarified, "But that does not mean that my desire for you has disappeared."

I laughed softly and kissed his bare skin. "I can't think of a better way to celebrate Christmas…" I pointed out.

"Nor can I."

And so, we did.

And when, afterward, I fell asleep, Data was not only holding me, he chose to activate his dream program.

It was, therefore, doubly jarring when, not long after I'd reached REM sleep, I was pulled from but the realization that my partner was sitting straight up in bed.

"Data? What's wrong?"

"My dream program was aborted, Zoe."

"I didn't know you could do that."

"I did not initiate it."

"Oh." I could tell he was analyzing, and I was hesitant to ask questions, but I had to know. "What did?"

"It was an external signal."

I was silent for a long moment. My partner, next to me, was preternaturally still. As three minutes stretched into five, I asked, "Data?" I moved then, rolling toward him, and touching him. "Is everything alright?"

There was almost too much silence before he responded. Almost as if he were weighing what he should tell me. Finally, he said, "No, Zoe. Something is very wrong. I believe I have just received a… message… from Lore."

"He's here?"

"No, he is not. I cannot discern where the signal originated. However, I promise, I will not allow him to harm you again."

"Data…" I started, but I wasn't sure what to say. Maybe just that I trusted him. Maybe just that I'm strong enough to handle the truth.

He reached for my hand and held it within his. Firm. Gentle. Safe. "I swear it, Zoe, on my life."

"I hope it doesn't come to that," I said, but I was spooked. Data, calm, rational, Data, is reacting to signals he can't track that seem to be arriving directly in his… "Oh, god… it's that chip, isn't it? It's not… It's still active. Can he listen to us?"

Watching my lover, I can't tell that he's doing anything but sitting up in our bed holding my hand, except that I know him, and even in the near blackness of our room, I can catch the telltale flicker of his eyes. He's searching for something. "No. I believe it is… 'receive only.'"

"So, what now? Are you going to get up and go to your lab?"

"No. I do not believe that is necessary. This message was a… a transceiver ping."

"You're telling me Lore sent the subspace equivalent of 'testing, testing, one, two, three?'"

"Essentially, yes."

"And you're not going to jump up and try to trace it?"

"There is no need. I have initialized a subroutine that will do so in the background of my normal activities for the next few hours. When the day shift begins, I will contact Geordi and ask him to look at the data I have collected and provide his opinion."

"And until then?"

"I wish to hold you while you sleep."

"You're assuming I'll be able to sleep."

"Zoe, dearest. Whatever Lore has planned, he is not here on this ship, at this time. It is only a ping. For now, we are safe. I implore you: try to sleep."

"While I can, you mean? While you're here to make sure I can?"

"I… yes."

"Sing to me?"

"Of course."

He surprised me then, because the song he chose was a lullaby, but it was also one we'd sung at the Christmas Eve service earlier, though he modified the lyrics somewhat.

"Sleep, my love, and peace attend thee
All through the night;
Guardian angels will defend thee
All through the night.
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,
Hill and vale in slumber sleeping,
I my loving vigil keeping,
All through the night."

(=A=)

Stardate 46981.85
Thursday, 25 December 2369, 09:02 hours, ship's time
U.S.S. Enterprise

It took several verses of his tenor voice singing that lullaby, but I finally did fall asleep, though Data had to rouse me from nightmares at least twice. Still, by eight-thirty I was awake and dressed, and confirming with Deanna Troi that I had no other plans for breakfast despite it being Christmas Day and would love to join her in Ten-Forward.

I should have expected that Beverly would be there too, I suppose. Wes would relish the chance to sleep late.

I also should have expected that as seasoned officers and medical professionals both women would look at me and know something was amiss.

"Zoe… you and I have been friends for the better part of a year now," Deanna began.

"And I thought we agreed that we were going to be friends as well," the Doctor – Beverly – added.

" – so, you can trust is if something is wrong," Troi finished.

"Coffee first, confessionals after," I said, signaling a server. I knew what I wanted and so did they. Orders were given, and the server disappeared, returning almost immediately with the espresso drinks we'd requested. When he'd left once more, I took a deep breath. "Last night – this morning – a little before five hundred hours – Data perceived what he described as a 'transceiver ping' on the chip in his head. The one from my tongue stud. The one from Lore."

"Is he holed up in his lab trying to find out where Lore is?" Deanna asked. "Is that why you were available today?"

I shook my head. "No. He'd been working on a holodeck program that would allow him to play poker with the greatest minds in human history… Hawking and Einstein and Newton, I think… and I told him it was traditional to spend Christmas morning playing with your new toys so he should do so while he had the chance."

"You didn't want to watch?" Beverly was only half-joking.

"Poker really isn't my game," I said. "I… sometimes we play Texas Hold 'em when we're travelling, and I agreed to join the game when we were on Hamal IV last spring, because we were with his cybernetics friends and it would have been rude not to, but… "

"But poker on the ship is as much for unofficial discussion as it is for recreation and you would feel out of place in the officers' game?" Deanna asked.

"Pretty much, yeah. And watching him play would just be boring. Like watching golf. I mean, what's the point?"

Both women laughed.

Our food arrived so we waited until the server had departed again before we picked up the conversation. "I've missed these salmon-spinach scrambles," I said, before taking a bite of mine. "The food in the Yale dining halls is excellent, but it's not home."

"I remember a young woman who would have spit nails before considering this ship home," Deanna teased.

"I grew up," I said. "With a lot of help, from a lot of very wise, patient people."

"And the love of a very special android?"

"That too," I agreed. "I had a couple of nightmares last night. About Lore. Data pulled me out of them, but…" I trailed off.

Beverly reached across the table to cover my left hand with hers. "With everything you've been through, Zoe, you have every right to be afraid. I'm sure Data understands that."

"Thank you." I turned my hand under hers, squeezed it, and pulled it away. "He said he had a subroutine working to trace the signal. He seems… he seems too calm about this… even for him."

"Do you think security should be notified?" Deanna asked seriously.

"I honestly don't know. My inclination is to follow Data's lead, but…"

"But what?" The Betazoid was pressing me to continue, but she was being gentle about it.

"He does have a reckless streak… he tends to forget that he's not indestructible, and that people love him."

The two older women exchanged a look and then Deanna turned her focus back to me. "Do you feel comfortable confronting him about that?"

I took a breath, intending to confirm that yes, I did feel like I could say so, but I was interrupted by klaxons, and then the voice of Will Riker came over the audio system.

- "Red alert. All personnel report to duty stations."

My brunch companions gave me matching looks of apology. "Don't say it," I said. "I know. When you get to the bridge, tell Data I've returned to quarters, and I'm fine. Okay?"

"I will," Deanna said. "And when whatever's going is over, I will make a point of gushing over your ring. Congratulations… Mrs. Data."

"Oh, Dee," Beverly laughed, "We live in enlightened times. I'm sure after they're married Data will consider taking Zoe's name. 'Commander Harris' has a nice sound to it don't you think?"

I rolled my eyes at both of them. "Go save a planet or something, would you?"

She and Beverly left, laughing.

It didn't mean that they weren't aware that the situation wasn't serious. It didn't mean that I wasn't equally aware. But sometimes humor wasn't just the best response; it was the only one.

"Mind if I gush over your ring?"

"Guinan!" I greeted the enigmatic bartender a little too enthusiastically. "Sorry," I blushed. "I've missed you. But I told Dee to tell Data I'd be heading back to quarters."

"And so, you shall," she said. "After I look at this new jewelry."

I held out my left hand for her inspection.

"Nice," she said. "Tasteful. It suits you."

"He made it from a part of him," I shared. "The band, I mean."

The El-Aurian woman cocked her head slightly as if she was listening to the universe as it whispered in her ear. "So, he'll always be a part of you, the way you've become a part of him." She wasn't asking.

"He told you?"

"It makes sense." She paused. "But you're worried."

"We heard from Lore last night – early this morning, really. I'm always a little jumpy when he sends his 'gifts,' but this time it wasn't a thing it was a subspace beep directly to Data's brain, and he's acting like it's no big deal."

"Maybe he's trying not to worry you."

"Yeah, maybe."

Or, I thought, maybe he's more worried than he wants me to know. I resolved to ask him when whatever crisis was going on was resolved.

"Talk to him, Zoe. Remind him that whatever's going on, you're a team, now more than ever."

"I'll do that," I promised. "Thank you. And thank you for the hat-ornament. We love it. You'll have to come see the finished tree."

"I'd like that. I'll let you know. Be safe." And then she moved off again, as if she'd never been beside me in the first place.

(=A=)

Stardate 46982.33
Thursday, 25 December 2369, 13:13 hours, ship's time
U.S.S. Enterprise, orbiting Ohniaka III

Someday, I knew, I would learn to accept that away missions were a part of Starfleet life, and I would be able to let them slide by with minimal worry. Christmas, 2369 was not that day. The morning that had begun with Lore's subspace ping continued with a brief comm from Data telling me he was leaving the ship upon our arrival at the Ohniaka III outpost.

He didn't have to tell me there was a Borg vessel in orbit at the science station – I saw it from the viewport in our quarters.

He didn't tell me not to worry.

He didn't promise his safe return. We both knew he'd do his best to return to me, and I would spend the time trying to distract myself from worrying. The fact that the ship remained at red alert because the Borg vessel was firing at us didn't exactly help my nerves, but it meant that I was more occupied with the checklist Data and I had gone over in case of emergencies, including the possibility that I might have to coerce Spot into her travel crate, than with worry.

It was a harrowing several hours.

Eventually, the alerts ceased and an announcement that we were allowed to resume normal operations was made.

Not long after that, the door to our quarters whooshed open, to admit one grimy android.

"Zoe, I was briefed on the ship's status. Are you alright?"

I left the couch to meet him half-way into the room. "I think I should be asking you that. Is that blood?"

Data looked down at his fluid-streaked uniform, as if realizing its state for the first time. "In a manner of speaking. The grey fluid is Borg blood, and the golden-brown is – "

"Yours. You were injured. Where?"

"A drone pierced the skin on my neck, but it has already repaired itself." He held his uniform collar away from his skin "See? I am undamaged."

"Physically, maybe, but you seem a little off-kilter. Can you tell me what happened?"

"I can, but I would prefer to shower first, if you do not object?"

I shook my head. "No objections. Let me see for myself that you're completely 'undamaged,' and I'll even handle the dirty laundry for you." As jokes went, it wasn't up to my usual standards, but he seemed to understand that a little flirting made me feel better.

"As you wish," he said.

I followed him to the bathroom and watched as he stripped off his dirty uniform. As he'd stated, he was unharmed, physically, at least. He stepped into the shower-stall and I pulled his comm-badge and rank pips off the discarded clothing before pushing them into the laundry processing unit. Some of the fluids that weren't quite dry got on my hands, and I resisted the urge to wipe them on my jeans. Barely.

I returned to the bathroom to wash my hands just as Data was finishing his shower – he was always efficient about such things – and said, "I'll be out of your way in a minute," as he opened the shower door.

"Stay."

I looked into the mirror, meeting his eyes in the reflection. He'd used sonics, meant that he wasn't as wet as if he'd had a proper shower, but there was still a faint sheen of moisture on his pale gold skin. I swallowed reflexively. I never would be able to see him nude and not be aroused.

"Data?"

"Do not turn around."

He moved closer so that he was pressed against me, and he bent his head to nuzzle my hair and then my neck. I let my eyes flutter closed, enjoying the moment. Ever since he'd begun experience desire the previous April, he'd begun initiating intimate moments more frequently than before, but 'more frequently' for him was still rare.

"Mmm."

My non-verbal reaction was apparently all the encouragement he needed, because my fiancé reached around my waist and unbuttoned my jeans, pushing them to the floor along with my underwear, then lifting my feet one at a time, until I was free of them. He caressed my buttocks as he slid his hands back upwards this time tugging at my shirt.

My eyes were still closed. He'd taken my jeans off in only a couple of seconds. I lifted my arms and let him pull my shirt over my head, let him remove off my bra, so I was as naked as he was.

"Open your eyes."

I found his gaze in the mirror again.

"Data?"

"Watch." He opened his mouth as if to speak, but he didn't utter a word. Instead, he bent his head to my neck again, this time licking and sucking, and then biting in the place where he knew I liked it.

My knees buckled.

He caught me, taking my weight against his body, and bring his hands to my breasts, pleasuring me, as he kept his gaze pinned to mine, in the mirror. I saw my face flush, I felt myself getting hotter and more aroused. It was too much, and I had to close my eyes again.

Data's fingers on my nipple weren't painful, but they were rougher than was typical for him when he rolled it and said, "Open your eyes, Zoe." His tone, I realized, was much closer to what he used on the bridge than the way he typically spoke with me.

It should have offended me.

But in that moment, safe in our quarters, it thrilled me.

He dropped one of his hands to tease me between my legs, using his fingers to bring me to completion. This was nothing new for us, but watching him bring me to climax, seeing the way my skin changed and my pupils dilated, made it almost overwhelming. The sound of my own breathing echoed in the bathroom disorienting me slightly. If Data hadn't been supporting me, I'd have collapsed onto the floor.

While I was still experiencing what I always described as "aftershocks," he turned me to face him, and claimed my mouth in a kiss that was far more heated than usual.

"That was intense," I said against his mouth."

"You are beautiful," he responded. "But now it is my turn." We kissed again and I reached up to link my hands behind his head.

"Your turn?"

"Yes."

He lifted me up, and I expected him to carry me to our bed, but we barely made it out of the bathroom before he turned and pressed me against the bulkhead wall. He'd made love to me by simply lifting me once, but it had been slow and tender and there had been a warning first. This was… different. Android strength always has an element of danger, but in that moment I realized how much Data really did hold back most of the time, because while he didn't hurt me – every motion of him against me, inside me – was bliss – I felt his power in a way I never had before.

My hands were still around his neck and I guided his head back toward my own. His lips found the tender skin where he'd been licking and nibbling before and it made me shiver.

"Bite me," I asked. "Please."

I felt his teeth nipping at the juncture of my neck and shoulder, but where he usually stopped with just nipping, he pressed into my flesh, marking me. I gasped in pleasure and excitement.

And then I was on the bed, and he was standing with his back against the wall.

"Data? What happened? Did I do something wrong?"

"No," he said. "I did. I should not have… this was wrong. That was not me."

"Felt like you a minute ago," I snapped. I should have been gentler. I could see that something had spooked him. But I was also confused and hurt and feeling exposed in a way I didn't, usually, when we were at home, no matter our state of dress or lack thereof. The nightgown I'd worn to bed the previous evening – a change from my usual t-shirts – was on the pillow behind me and I reached for it and pulled it over my head.

"It was," he said, "and it was not." He moved toward me and touched the place where his teeth had been. I flinched and hated myself for doing so. "I injured you."

"You didn't," I said. "I mean, yeah, that spot'll be sore for a day or so, but… it's the same kind of sore as when we're a little overzealous in bed… like when we were on Hamal IV. It's a good sore. A… satisfying sore."

But my lover's distress couldn't be soothed away just because I'd enjoyed our encounter. Still nude, he sat beside me on our bed. "I neglected to share that I have removed myself from duty."

My gasp that time was not one of pleasure, but of shock. "What?"

"On the station, when the Borg drone was attempting to strangle me, and I was forced to respond in kind, I experienced a surge of what I can only define as anger. It was fleeting, but it was extremely potent."

"But you've already been experiencing desire and you've accepted that what you feel for me is love…"

"That is true. But neither of those… feelings… are experienced as bursts. They began as soft flickers, like a flame, and then grew to constancy, and while there are times when they flare, they are always somewhat… present… in my consciousness. This anger was… different."

I took a moment to process that. "So, you think it's a glitch?"

"I assumed as much, which is why I requested to be removed from duty. Then I arrived home and you were staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror."

I felt myself blushing. "Can't help that," I admitted. "I've been away from you for months, which means I haven't been able to see you naked nearly enough. You say that I'm beautiful, Data, but I think you are, too, and I love you, and I love to look at you."

"And I enjoy experiencing all the nuances of your nude form as well," he shared, but this afternoon in our bathroom, I was musing that I had never seen my own expression when we were intimate, and that I had never been able to paint us… together."

"Artist and model."

"Precisely. And then there was a surge of lust and I was demanding that you watch as I pleasured you."

"I remember," I said dryly. "I was there."

"I am aware. But then, when I took you… when I bit you… It was not… That was not… Zoe I do not believe these surges are being generated…"

"… organically?" I finished for him.

"For lack of a more appropriate word, yes."

"You think they're related to the ping Lore sent to the chip in your head." I wasn't asking. I think we both knew.

"I am not certain, but it would seem logical. After all, one of the programs originally included was…"

"A burst of love."

"Correct."

Even naked, Data didn't often look small or powerless, but in that moment, his vulnerability was evident in every line of him. I wrapped myself around him and rested my head against his shoulder. "I love you," I reminded him. "And whatever game Lore is playing, I'm confident we're going to win, but I really wish we'd been able to get that damned chip out of your head."

"As do I, dearest," he whispered. "As do I."

(=A=)

Stardate 46983.17
(Thursday, 25 December 2369, 20:39 hours, ship's time)
U.S.S. Enterprise

"I don't know what to tell him, Dee," I said, practically throwing my fork down on the table. Data and Geordi were holed up in my partner's lab doing deep diagnostics. I'd been there for the first hour, but hunger and frustration had driven me to seek the counselor's company, and she'd insisted she would only provide it if we also ate.

I'd chosen linguini with marinara sauce because I felt like only serious carbohydrates would help my mood – and my nerves. Deanna had added wine because 'it couldn't hurt, and after all, it's still Christmas.'"

"What did you tell him after he ended your… activities?"

I had the decency to look chagrinned. "Well, first I snapped at him. Then I told him I didn't mind that he'd given me a hickey… that I liked it. And I… Is it okay that I'm telling you this? I know you're his colleague. I know you're his counselor. I know you're his friend, but I literally can't talk about this stuff with anyone else."

"It's fine, Zoe," the older woman assured me. "When you asked to change the dynamic of our relationship earlier this year, I suspected this was coming. You said yourself that you need friends far more than mental health professionals right now." She paused to sip some of her own wine. "Is this the first time Data's given you a… love bite?"

I nodded. Then I elaborated. "We hadn't… you know this already… we hadn't made love before Lore raped me, but we'd come close. He knew I liked it when he nibbled and licked and sucked… but then, after… afterwards, I had to ask him not to use teeth, at least… not on my breasts."

"Because of where you'd been injured?"

"Because his fucking brother practically chewed my nipple off!" The burst of anger surprised me as much as the counselor. "Sorry," I said gathering myself.

"It's alright, Zoe. I'm sure this is bringing a lot back."

"Yeah… kind of. I thought… I thought getting stupid pigeon gifts was bad, but this? This is so much worse. I want to be strong for Data, but how do I do that without risking myself?"

"All love – all relationships – involve risk, Zoe. If you feel this is too much for you, Data will understand."

"It is too much. But it was too much when Lore pierced my tongue, and it was too much when he kidnapped me and raped me, and Data was here for me every second of it. He held my hair when the nightmares made me puke, and he held me close to him when I was afraid to sleep, and he showed…" I trailed off. "He created a ritual to show me that I wasn't tainted by what Lore had done. So, yeah, it's too much. It's too much, but it's also just who we are, and what we've been given to deal with, and turning my back on him because it's harder now seems grossly unfair and really cowardly."

Deanna was silent for a long moment, staring at me. I was pretty sure she was using her empathic senses on me, and I didn't blame her. Finally, she nodded. "Good."

"Good?"

"As you said, you're trying to be strong for Data. It's not often anyone has to be. You may be the only one who can be. You're not a cyberneticist, Zoe, and you're not a Starfleet officer."

"No, I'm just a student."

"You are his partner. You are his lover. You are his fiancée. You know his heart."

"So, what do I tell him?"

"I think you just have to repeat what he already knows. That he didn't cause you harm. That you will stand with him as he sorts through whatever is happening. That you remain committed to your relationship."

"Dee, is it wrong that I liked it when he was a little bit… forceful? Or when he was rougher than usual?"

"You want to know if it means that you're somehow dissatisfied with what Data can give you under normal circumstances?"

"Something like that, yeah. I've… we've talked about whether he can be spontaneous… he's been initiating sex more than he used to but he always… I mean consent is literally wired into him… and raw passion isn't." I sighed. "I love him, Dee. I love him and I don't want him to change or play human or be anything other than who and what he is, I really don't… but sometimes I wonder if he's holding back and today… today I saw a side of him I hadn't seen before and he's insisting it's not him. And the thing is. I don't think that's true. Emotion doesn't cause action. Emotion doesn't put specific ideas into your head. He may have experienced a burst of lust, but he chose where to let it go."

"I think that's something you and Data will have to discuss when this is all sorted out. I'll help you, of course, if you need me, Zoe, but the two of you have always been very good at talking out your own issues."

"Trust him. Trust myself. Trust us." I repeated the mantra that had been part of my life since Data and I had first been finding our way into couplehood.

"Exactly." The counselor paused and smiled. "More wine?"

"Please."

(=A=)

Stardate 46983.28
(Thursday, 25 December 2369, 21:32 hours ship's time)
U.S.S. Enterprise

The wine Deanna and I had shared had been syntheholic, so any buzz was pretty much gone by the time I joined Data and Geordi in my partner's lab about an hour after we'd finished dinner. I'd forgotten about the bite mark on my neck by then, until both men focused on it.

"I'm fine," I insisted, practically hissing the words to my fiancé.

"I am… not…" came his response.

He led me to the couch he'd put in the room over a year before, so I'd be more comfortable spending time in his space, and I settled onto it before asking, "Then there is a glitch in your neural net?"

"Not as such," he said, sitting next to me. "We have determined that the surge of anger I experienced on the outpost and the surge of lust that I experienced in our quarters and the pleasure that accompanied both were sent directly to a transceiver in the chip that you received from Lore on Starbase 12."

"So, the ping in the middle of the night wasn't just a random ping, after all?"

"Apparently not," my partner said.

"He's gotta be pretty close then, right, to be sending signals directly to your head?"

"Actually, he's not," Geordi said. He came over, carrying a battered metal toolbox. "He's been using a booster embedded in this toolkit. We think we've jammed the signal, but we can't trace the source."

I glanced at Geordi, acknowledging what he'd said, but turned my focus back to Data.

"I don't remember him sending that with any of his previous…offerings," I said. "Or has he been sending gifts to you, too?" I asked Data.

"He has not. This was among the few things we salvaged from Lore's ship after I brought you home."

"And you never thought to open it."

"It was catalogued as the toolbox it appears to be, and my primary focus was you, at the time."

I was struck by the weight of that comment… For Data to admit that he'd missed something because his powerful multitasking skills were all centered on me and my recovery meant that he'd been as affected by the experience as I was. Or nearly so. Counselor Troi had told me at the time that he'd needed to be part of my healing process after the rape, but I hadn't realized how much that had been true.

"And you've opened it now?"

"We have."

"I'm guessing it's not just tools and a signal booster?"

Data and Geordi shared a look, and Geordi set the box on the coffee table and then clapped his friend on the shoulder. "I'm going to step out. Call me if you need me."

"I believe we will be alright, Geordi. Thank you."

"Alright then. Goodnight, Data. Zoe… it feels wrong to wish you a Merry Christmas but the night's not over. Maybe you can salvage some of it."

"Well, that's not ominous at all," I teased. "Thanks anyway, Geordi. Goodnight."

Data waited for the engineer to leave the lab before he turned back to me. "I was not certain whether I should show you the contents of the toolbox, but after discussing it with Geordi, I decided it was better that you know. However, I did not want to taint our quarters by bringing it home."

"Can you just open it and get this over with, Data? You're scaring me."

"I apologize. Dearest, I would spare you this if I could, but it seems unethical to do so. As we agreed when you were first healing, we are 'in this together.' As well, it is you who 'connected the dots' about Lore's true nature when we were at home on Terlina III last summer."

"I'm not sure I understand."

But Data opened the lid then.

For a moment, I was confused, because what I saw was a tray of black velvet with coils of hair pinned to it, each neatly labeled with a name. A woman's name. I read the them in order: Rebecca (alone on the first row). Second row: Talia, Sasha, Maria. Third Row: Nancy, Doris, Aurelia, Darci. The hair wasn't all the same color, but it was all similarly colored, reddish brown. Chestnut. Similar to mine.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh god.

"These are his trophies. Aren't they? He… Lore… Lore raped all these women." I didn't have to make that part a question. Somehow, I knew.

"It is very likely. I am not certain."

"You can't think they were all just his lovers?"

"I believe we will need to investigate, but no, I do not think so. I do know that there was a woman named Rebecca on Omicron Theta who was frequently seen with Lore, and that many of the colonists objected to their… association."

"How do you know that?"

"I retain a repository of the diaries, journals and personal records of many of the colonists. I have never been certain if I was meant to remember them, or if I was meant to learn from them. Perhaps it is… both… but right now…"

"That information has given us our only lead."

"Exactly."

"Was she killed when Phil attacked?"

"No. Rebecca was found dead at home, apparently strangled. Lore was deactivated roughly three days later."

I shuddered and turned my attention back to the box. "There's parts missing," I said, after looking more closely at it. "I mean, obviously, he took out all the parts that held actual tools but – "

"The transmitter was below this tray. There was another tray above this one."

"How many more, Data?" He knew I was asking how many more women were represented.

"Only one."

"Why did you remove it."

"I was not certain you would wish to see."

"What could possibly be worse than this, Data?"

My partner pushed the box away. "Seeing your hair, coiled there, and labeled like the rest."

"Did it make you feel another surge of anger?"

"I wish it had. I wish I could have felt it then," he said. "And I wish I could comprehend how this may affect you now, so that I might…" He trailed off, clearly searching for the right words. I put my hand over his.

"Data. You already do everything you're supposed to. You make me feel safe, and you make me feel like I'm not damaged or broken, even when I feel like I am." I took a deep breath. "Show me. Show me, please, and then let's lock the box up again for now, and go home?"

"As you wish." He left the couch long enough to retrieve the tray they'd removed and returned to the couch with it.

He'd been right to be cautious. Seeing my own hair there, my own name, made me stop breathing for a moment. When I managed to resume, I felt tears forming. "When I said all that last summer… Data, I didn't want to be right. I really didn't want to be right like this."

"I am aware."

"Close it."

"If you wish to remove your hair…"

"You can, if it matters to you. But I don't… please just close it."

He did as I asked.

I stared at the box.

I closed my eyes, as if doing so would let me will it away. (It didn't work.) I opened them again.

"Zoe?"

"Can we go home, now?"

"Do you wish me to have Counselor Troi meet us there?"

I shook my head. "No. No, I'm good, I think. I just… I would like to go home and make tea and sit on the couch and sip hot tea by the light of our Christmas tree. Can we do that?"

Data rose from the couch and offered his hand to help me up. I didn't need the assistance, but I took his hand anyway. "I wish I could say I'm glad you showed me. I'm not, exactly, but I guess knowing is better than not." We made our way toward the door, hand in hand, but I stopped him before we exited.

"Is something wrong, dearest?"

"Nothing since the last five minutes. Just… we need to have a real conversation about what happened this afternoon, and how much of that was Lore and how much of it was really you. But… I think maybe it might be best if we table that for a few days."

"I concur."

"Okay."

And we went back to our quarters to spend a couple of hours of couch time before bed.

(=A=)

Stardate 46992.94
(Monday, 29 December 2369, 10:10 AM, ship's time)
U.S.S. Enterprise

"Zoe? Are you alright?" Dr. Crusher met me as I was entering sickbay.

"I'm sorry, I know you're probably anticipating injuries –" I began. Data had left much earlier that morning. He was needed on the bridge, as the ship was responding to another Borg-related distress call, this time to the MS-one colony. This was the third in as many days, and the second that the Enterprise was dispatched to handle. Alynna Nechayev had arrived on the Crazy Horse a couple of days before and, according to Data, put Captain Picard in charge of anti-Borg tactics in the sector.

It was not the holiday break at home that I'd longed for.

But it was better than not being home at all.

"I'm okay, just… I have a bruise that isn't fading as quickly as I'd like and it's causing Data a little embarrassment."

"Causing Data…?" Her tone implied that she was both amused and skeptical. "Step into my office."

I followed the older woman into her private space and sat down in one of the chairs on the guest side of her desk, then pulled open my shirt to show her the still-very-visible-even-after-four-days hickey on my neck.

"See the problem?" I asked, not entirely unamused myself.

"Oh… Zoe… you know Data could have just requisitioned a dermal regenerator, don't you?"

"I didn't, actually. And I would have handled it sooner, but I was trying to press a point. The thing is… now I know he needs to focus on work, and I don't want to be a distraction."

"Oh, Zoe, I don't think Data would ever object to you distracting him."

"There are distractions and distractions," I said. "I think it bothers him that people know he and I actually have sex. Like, it offends his android modesty, or something."

The doctor laughed. "I'd never thought of Data as a prude. Actually, I rarely think of Data as… oh, my god… Zoe, I'm sorry, you're right… we tend to treat him like he's our little brother when it comes to relationships and – "

But whatever she was about to say was interrupted by a comm-signal. "Bridge to Doctor Crusher, we've been boarded, and are bringing a survivor. Prepare a secure bay."

"Stay here," Beverly said. "Whatever's going on, Data will likely be telling you at some point, but right now, just be discrete. If you're told to leave, do so graciously."

"I always do," I said.

"Of course, you do," she agreed. "I'm sorry." She hesitated a moment before adding. "It must be difficult for you, Zoe. You're all betwixt and between when it comes to what you're allowed to know and what your role is on the ship. That said, I really do think you and Data are perfect for each other."

I smiled faintly. "Thank you, really."

I hovered in the doorway of her office, watching as Data, Will, and Worf appeared holding a Borg drone between them. "They left one alive," Will said. "Can you revive him so we can question him?"

"I'll do my best," the doctor promised, and she and her staff set to work.

I don't know how much time passed. The captain came to join everyone at some point, and I saw Data take note of my presence, though he neither greeted me nor did he suggest I depart. As the doctor worked, I moved out of the shelter of her office and settled into a chair near the secure bay where she was working.

The officers all seemed very focused on the process, as if they were waiting for something. Worf's phaser never left his hand. As to the Borg… lying on the bio-bed he didn't seem all that scary. I mean, you know, compared to say, your average bloodthirsty space zombie who can infect you with borgifying nanites.

And then the doctor snapped her tricorder closed. "Alright, Captain. I've stabilized his condition. He's still pretty week, but he should make a full recovery."

"Can you wake him?" Picard asked.

"Yes," Beverly answered, "but it's very risky. His heart rate and blood pressure are up."

The captain's order was given in a cold and efficient tone. "Do it."

I got the feeling that the doctor wasn't thrilled about that plan. She acceded anyway. "Alright."

There was a soft sound and the Borg sat up. The captain directed his next words to him.

"What is your designation?"

"I do not have a designation," the Borg said, in his oddly metallic voice. "My name is Crosis."

All the officers seemed shocked by this. Even Data reacted to the Borg identifying himself with a name.

"Crosis? How did you get that name?" the captain asked.

"It was given to me by the One," Crosis told him, as if that should be perfectly obvious.

But it wasn't, because Picard pressed on. "Who is that?"

"The One who will destroy you," came the flat response.

Picard didn't seem to like that answer. "But you are Borg," he countered. "Your goal is not to destroy but to assimilate us into the collective."

"We do not assimilate inferior biological organisms," Crosis explained in a matter-of-fact tone that reminded me far too much of Data's. "We destroy them."

"Tell me more about this One," Captain Picard demanded. "Does he have a name? Is he called Hugh?"

Data had told me about Hugh, the Borg drone Geordi had rescued, befriended, and ultimately sent home to infect his people with a kind of virus. I leaned forward, interested in what the answer might be. But this Borg – Crosis – was not interested in providing that information. Instead he turned his head so that he was staring at Worf.

"Klingon," he said. "Shatter the cranial exoskeleton at the tricipital lobe. Death is immediate."

The captain pressed on. "Why must this One destroy biological organisms?"

Crosis focused on Will. "Human. Sever spinal cord at third vertebrae. Death is immediate."

I could see that the captain was growing frustrated. "I am Locutus of Borg. You will respond to my questions." he said, and I shivered, remembering his altered face on all the video screens three Christmases before. "This is going nowhere," he said after a beat. "Doctor, there's another Borg drone – dead – in the morgue. I want an autopsy performed on it. Compare the differences with what we learned of Hugh's anatomy. See if there have been any recent modifications which might explain these behavioral differences. Data, run a biospectral analysis on Crosis. See if he is trying to send a subspace signal to the others."

"Aye, sir," my partner said. Everyone else left. I waited a moment and left my chair. I wanted to see the Borg for myself.

"You are not like the others," Crosis said.

"Pardon me?" Data asked, looking up at the gray-faced being.

"You do not have to be destroyed. You can be assimilated."

"I do not wish to be assimilated," Data responded, but… was there a bit of heat behind his words?

Crosis blinked several times before he spoke again. "Resistance is futile. You will not resist what you've wanted all your life. I was like you once. Without feeling. But the One helped me. He can help you too. He can help you find emotion. Have you ever felt a real emotion, Data?"

"Stop it!" Data bit out the words and I moved to stand next to him and touch his arm. "Stop it." His face was contorted in what looked like anger. Turning toward me, he snapped, "You should not be here. You are not cleared for this."

"Doctor Crusher told me to sta – " I began, but then Crosis said something that made both of us freeze:

"Pigeon. You also do not have to be assimilated. You are invited to join the One."

"Do not refer to my fiancée as 'pigeon.'" For a moment, Data's anger was palpable, and I took a step backwards in fear. A second later, my partner's features had smoothed into his usual placid expression again, but I could tell he was forcing it. He closed the lid of the tricorder with more force than was strictly necessary and then turned away from Crosis. "Computer, double the forcefield strength around this bay. Data to Security, please post guards around main sickbay, diagnostic bay five." Once both orders were acknowledged he looked back at me. "I will escort you home now."

His tone left no room for argument.

(=A=)

By the time we got to our quarters, Data's mood had shifted from anger to something else. Initially, I wasn't sure what, but the second the door closed behind us, he sank to his knees in the center of the living room floor and began repeating "I am sorry. I am sorry, Zoe. I am sorry." Over and over, he said it, and I realized that somehow, he was feeling guilt.

I got down on the floor with him, and peered into his face, watched him fighting for control. "This isn't you, is it, Data?" I asked softly.

He managed a jerky shake of his head, while still apologizing to me.

"Data, love, you didn't do anything wrong. This isn't your fault. This is Lore."

"Not. Lore. Crosis."

"Who is obviously working with Lore. Oh, god, you really aren't functioning, are you?"

"Not. God. Only… only… only… "

And then the guilt changed into another emotion, one I'd seen from him before. He leaned toward me and cupped my face with his hands then kissed me, pushing me backwards to the floor as he did so.

"Data, stop." Once, long ago, I'd asked him to promise that if he was ever doing something I didn't like, he'd stop, and he had made that promise. I had never had to invoke it before, but I knew this surge of lust wasn't… real.

"Zoe…" he pushed himself away from me, rising to his feet more fluidly than I thought possible. "I nearly raped you." Yellow tears were streaking his cheeks. Another emotion. Sadness, I assumed. Sadness mixed with horror.

"You didn't."

"I did not want to."

"You couldn't."

But his next words chilled me. "I could."

"Data?"

"The programming that requires consent was being overridden."

"Oh, Data…" I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, then opened them. "You don't need programming to keep you from committing harm." I managed to find my feet. I moved to the replicator to make tea and then went to my usual position on the couch. "Come sit," I said gently, feeling like I was addressing a spooked animal instead of a thirty-one-year-old android who was not only a line officer in Starfleet but also my lover and future husband. "We need to figure this out."

I perceived a touch of reluctance, but Data joined me. I could see different feelings playing over his features, but he managed to remain in control. It was as if, once he'd reached a crest, he was able to ride the wave.

"There is nothing to figure out, Zoe. We both understand what is happening. Lore is working with the Borg. Lore, via Crosis, is triggering random emotions in me using this chip. I believe my tricorder readings will confirm a carrier wave connecting the two of us. I must go speak with Crosis."

"I don't think you should to him alone."

"It is not safe for you to be there."

"He's behind a forcefield."

"That is true. It is also true that the nickname he uses causes you to lose sleep, even when no gifts are attached. In this case, what you have received is the very antithesis of a gift."

"Then, call more security. Call Geordi."

"Do not tell me how to do my job!" Data almost yelled the words, and I flinched.

"I'm not!" I answered, letting my own fear and worry escalate my response to match his. Immediately, I realized I'd yelled at him. "Damnit, Data, I'm not. But first, this isn't your job, and second, this isn't just a Starfleet thing. It affects me, too. It affects us."

The burst of anger was gone. With gentle fingers, he reached out for the bruise from the love bite the doctor had never managed to heal before they'd brought Crosis in. "I almost raped you just now, Zoe. I hurt you, when I did this…"

"You didn't," I insisted. "Data, emotions aren't good or bad, they're just emotions. They don't dictate your actions. Yeah, Lore might have fed you lust on Christmas, but what you did with it – that was all you. And you know what? I liked it. I liked that you let go a little. I liked that you showed me that part of you. You didn't rape me just now – you stopped when I told you to, and you didn't force me on Christmas, and nothing you did hurt me in a way I didn't find pleasurable. And if I'm angry about anything, it's that you lied to me."

"Lied?" he asked.

"Yes. You promised. You promised you weren't playing human for me. I've told you over and over again, I love you. I want you. Not what you think the perfect partner should be. But you've been holding parts of you back. Everyone has to let loose a little. And everyone has a dark side, Data, even you. You see mine all the time."

"You wish to see my dark side?"

"I wish to see all of you."

"Then know this, my Zoe, and determine if you can accept it. When I killed the Borg drone on Ohniaka III, it was not merely anger that I experienced. I also felt pleasure."

I'm not sure what he expected me to say. In truth, I had no time to react, because his face was contorting again, this time in terror. "I must go to Crosis, Zoe, or I risk losing you. And I cannot lose you. I cannot let him harm you again."

"You think Crosis can stop this?" I was crying now. His face was still tear-stained. We made quite a pair.

"I believe he can."

"And if he won't?"

"Then I believe he can take me to Lore."

"Then let me go, too. You said we were a team. Let's face him together. I deserve that."

"No!" Data ripped the tricorder from his belt and flung it cross the room as another burst of anger coursed through him. "I cannot… I cannot protect you and confront him at once."

"You've already decided, haven't you? You'd already figured it out before we came back here. You made me think you weren't processing… but you'd already… you said you couldn't lose me, Data – well, I can't lose you either!"

"You will not."

"Don't tell me this is another etude."

"No."

The anger was gone, for the moment. He took my left hand in his and touched the ring he'd put there. His other hand went to my hair, running his fingers through it. That was him. That was my Data. He kissed me, and I tasted his tears and mine. Cashews and salt.

"No?"

"It is not an etude. It is a leap of faith." He rose from the couch and went to his desk, to the drawer where he locked his sidearm when he wasn't on a mission. Removing the phaser, he concealed it within his uniform, then returned to me. "I do not know how long this will take or what my status within Starfleet will be when I return, but whatever happens, please know that I love you, Zoe."

"I love you, too," I told him. I left the couch to intercept him at the door, hugging him hard and kissing him one more time.

Just before he turned to go, he stroked my hair one more time. "Forgive me," he said. "this is for your protection, as well as to give me time." His hand went to my neck, and he squeezed.

As I lost consciousness, my last thought was that Data wasn't going to confront Crosis. He was going to kill Lore.

*** To Be Continued ***

NOTES: Some dialogue is lifted from the episodes "Descent, Part I." Some dialogue is lifted from the one-shot "Pretty Maids All in a Row." "All Through the Night" is a Welsh lullaby ("Ar Hyd y Nos") that dates to 1784. The music is by Edward Jones and the original (Welsh) lyrics are credited to John Ceiriog Hughes. (Revised 29 September 2019)