Song for a Winter's Night – Part IV

If I could only have you near, to breathe a sigh or two

I would be happy just to hold the hands I love

And to be once again with you

On this winter night with you

Stardate 44998.05

(Sunday, 31 December 2367, 7:00 AM, local time)

Surfside Beach, Centaurus

We arrived at Surfside in time to get a decent parking space, and to stake out a good location on the beach. I was wearing a red bikini – two-piece bathing suits were more comfortable – under my wetsuit, which was currently unzipped, with the top hanging around my waist. Data was dressed in the sandals – without socks – he'd purchased the day before, along with the khaki pants and Hawaiian shirt he'd selected. If I thought he looked hot in his uniform, and sexy in the black turtleneck he'd worn home from our shopping excursion, I thought his beach outfit made him look huggable. And kissable. Actually, I was pretty sure I'd become addicted to his kisses.

The surfing that day wasn't about competing, just celebrating the love of waves, so there were no judges, although there were surf patrol volunteers on jet skis, just in case something happened. It doesn't look like it from shore, but surfing's a pretty violent sport. Your neck, shoulders, and back are constantly being strained, and your whole body gets slammed by wind and water, even if you don't wipe out.

"Zoe! You're here! Awesome!" My friend Kell – Kelly Weaver - ran up to the flitter to greet me. "And… Mr. Data, wasn't it? Wow, you look different in clothes. I mean… not-uniform clothes… I mean…"

"It is just Data," he corrected her, pointedly ignoring the fact that I was laughing. "Thank you for the compliment."

"Can I carry something for you?" Kell asked. "My brother's home from uni for the holidays, and he's got my parents set up over by the lifeguard stand."

"Grab my extra board?" I asked her. "And Data, if you don't mind, grab the chairs, and the bag with the blanket and towels?" I slung the strap for our cooler over my shoulder and picked up my favorite board – it was painted black with hot pink pinstripes – and headed down the beach, though Kell caught up to me and whispered, "Zoe, your boyfriend is all kinds of hot."

"Yeah," I said grinning. "Yeah, he is. And he's also all kinds of not-at-all-deaf, and totally just heard you." I glanced over at the new sandal-wearing version of the man I loved, and my grin got even wider when he caught my eye and gave me a broad wink.

A few minutes later, Data was comfortably situated in a beach chair, with instructions to take pictures. I suspected he didn't need the camera I handed to him but chose not to ask just then.

(=A=)

By eight, anyone who was going to show up had done so, and most of us had caught a wave. There were maybe five of us who were serious surfers – me, Kell, Kavan Meyer, Joss Murtry, who'd been a couple years ahead of me in school - and Soleth, a half-Vulcan math major from Great Oreas University, who was so ruthless on the waves that he'd picked up the rather cruel nick-name, "Soulless."

There were an equal number of surfers who casual riders, at best. Oscar from the menswear store and Kell's brother Tom were among them, but they were surfing further down the beach from the rest of us, where the waves were smaller.

Surf etiquette says that the first person to catch a wave becomes the lowest priority when they get back to the lineup. Kell, Kavan, and Soleth had caught waves in the second set already, and Joss and I were in the lineup waiting. Technically, the next wave should have been mine because I'd paddled back out faster than he had, but he dropped in on me just after I caught it, lost control of his board, and crashed into me. We ended up rolling in the white water. It's a common error, and while frustrating, neither of us was seriously hurt.

But I was annoyed.

"Dude," I said as we both resurfaced and climbed back on our boards "Not cool!"

"Sorry, Zoe," he said. "I wasn't paying attention and that wave was primo."

"Yeah it was," I agreed. I was already paddling back out, and so was he. "And now we're last priority. Race you back out there." I didn't wait for his response, just started paddling harder, past the break, back to the lineup, duck diving under the incoming waves to save time and energy.

We surfed through another set, each of us catching two more waves with no more drop-ins. At one point, Soleth was drifting next to me during a lull between waves. "The man on the beach," he asked. "The one you came with… he's Starfleet's android?"

His phrasing made me bristle. "He's Lieutenant Commander Data," I said, "and yes, he's an android, but he's a free citizen, just like we are."

"I meant no offense," he said. "I wish an introduction."

"I can do that," I said.

"Thank you," he said, but a beat later he added, "You have good form on your board, but if you adjust your weight so you are leaning more toward the front it will improve your speed and balance."

I let his advice percolate for a moment. "Yeah," I said. "You're probably right. Thanks." The next wave was his, and I had to admit, he was an excellent surfer.

Kell paddled back into the lineup just after Soleth caught his wave. "Too bad Soulless isn't into dating," she said. "Because the man is sex on a shred-stick."

I met my friend's eyes, gave a slight shake of my head, and smiled. Soleth was a good surfer, but there was only one man's body I was remotely interested in.

The next wave was mine, and it was the kind of perfect hollow tube that that you can see in every surfing video ever made. Perfect crest. Perfect curl. I was totally in the groove, playing the line with a wall of water behind me and cool spray in my face. My hair, French-braided within an inch of its life to keep it from getting in my eyes or mouth – something other surfers didn't seem to mind, but that always drove me crazy – was wet, the tails of my braids streaming behind me.

I adjusted my stance, bent at the knee, and shifted my weight toward the forward end of my board. I wasn't one for shredding – no fancy, flamboyant stunts. My high was the exhilarating feeling of a long, clean ride. And I got it.

I didn't ride the wave quite into shore, but I knew there was no way I was going to top that ride… at least, not that day… so I rode it as far as I could and then dropped down to paddle to the point where the water was shallow enough to splash through. Satisfied, salty, and starving, I trudged back to the blanket where Data and my father – when had he arrived? – were sitting, watching.

The wind had picked up while I'd been in the water, I noticed, and there was a bite in the air.

"…says we 'fit' together," I heard Data saying to my father as I approached. I strained to hear, but he'd seen me coming and lowered his voice, and that, plus the wind, made it impossible to catch every word. "…concur but… difficult choices in our future."

My father's words were also mostly whipped away by the sea breeze, "…young, but she knows her own…." There was a pause and then he continued, "…may be cliché to ask… intentions toward her?"

I only heard the last few words of Data's reply: "…for as long as she wishes."

So, they were talking about me. About me and Data and what the future might hold. File it away for later Zoe. Enjoy what you have for as long as you have it, I told myself, as I collapsed on the soft, cotton beach blanket. Aloud, I panted, "I wish… I could live… in the water… all the time."

"But we'd miss your charming presence on dry land, mermaid-child," my father teased. "What happened with that wipe-out?"

"Joss happened. I had priority and he totally dropped in and snaked my wave, only he overbalanced – or something – and slammed into the tail of my board, and then it was, 'oh, hi, whitewater… which way is up, again?'"

"You appear to have recovered quickly," Data observed.

Breathing normally once more, I sat up and released the cuff of my board leash from around my ankle. "Yeah, because I've had it happen before and knew to follow the leash."

"Please elaborate," Data requested.

"Oh, boards float. So, when you get disoriented you follow the leash if you lose your hold. Actually, when you surf on long boards, you do turtle rolls to get under the big waves and past the break, and there's a point at which you're literally suspended from your board under water. It's kind of scary to learn – not that duck diving is any less scary – but once you know the trick of it, it all clicks and makes sense." I grinned at him. "Just don't ask me to give you the math behind surfing, please, because I refuse to do anything more complicated than figuring out appropriate tips while I'm on vacation."

"I will not," he promised. But I could see thoughts spinning behind those yellow eyes, and I made a mental note to expect a surf-related challenge in his tutorial when it resumed in mid-January.

Kell and Kavan ran up to us, just then, laughing and dodging each other. "Zoe, that was an awesome ride! You totally played it, girl," Kell said.

Kavan, always the quieter of the two agreed with her. "Yeah, you killed that ride, Zoe! Hey, are you coming to breakfast?" He glanced past me at Dad and Data. "Good morning, Maestro," he greeted. "And… I'm sorry, we've never met," he said to Data. "You look kind of familiar though."

"He should," Kell said, "He's a hero of the Federation. Kavan, this is Lt. Commander Data from the Enterprise. He's our Zoe's new boyfriend."

I rolled my eyes at my friend, but added the other side of the introduction, "Data, this is Kavan Meyer. We've been friends - mostly – since we were two."

"I've seen you on the news," Kavan said. "It's an honor to meet you, sir."

"It is a pleasure to meet another of Zoe's friends," Data said.

Kell didn't quite squeal. "Aren't they adorable together?" She linked her arm through Kavan's. "Almost as adorable as we are. Maestro, the party's still on tonight isn't it? We – and my parents – have been looking forward to it."

"The party's still on, though it might be a little quieter than usual," Dad said. "Gia gave birth in the wee hours of yesterday morning. Zoe is officially the half-owner of a shiny new baby brother. David Ezekiel Harris."

"Half-owner?" Kavan asked.

"Because she's his half-sister. Clear the nebula from your brain, Kav." Kell said, slugging him in the upper arm. "Tell Gia we all say congrats, Maestro," she said to my father. "Are you all joining the breakfast bunch?"

"Not me," my father said, standing up. "I need to get back to Gia and our houseguests. Zoe, Data, we have caterers and others setting everything up, so you're off the hook for helping out, after all. If you don't want to hang around the house all day, there's no obligation, but either way, I'll see you at home." He leaned down to kiss me on the cheek, "Love you, Zoetrope. You looked great out there."

I grinned. "Love you, too, Dad. I'm glad you came out."

He turned toward the parking area but paused to mock-glower at my friends. "You two," he said. "Behave." Then he grinned, which ruined the whole effect.

"What say you, Zo'? Breakfast?" Kavan repeated the question I had yet to answer.

I looked at my friends, then back at Data, and couldn't escape the sense that our time in the 'new love' bubble was rapidly diminishing.

"Do you mind if we pass?" I asked. "I'll be here for another couple of weeks, and we should totally hook up, but…"

"But you want quality time with your Starfleet officer. We get it." Kell grinned. "Data, it was good seeing you again. If Zoe lets me, I'm stealing a dance from you tonight."

"I am certain she will consider allowing it," he teased.

"Data will need a break from me stepping on his feet. Social dance is not my forte," I said, standing up. The three of us exchanged hugs. "We'll see you tonight. Give my love to your folks." My friends, trotted off, and all around us the beach was emptying. Finally, it was just the two of us, and Soleth, who was still on the water. When everyone else had gone, he came to our blanket.

"Hey, thanks for the tip," I told him.

"You did have quite a ride on that last wave," he responded.

"Data, this is Soleth. He asked me to introduce you. Soleth, Data. Talk amongst yourselves, I'm going to run and change." I'd already unzipped the top of my wetsuit, and I noticed that both of them were watching me. I wondered if Data had even noticed my bathing suit, but I had no plans to ask him. Instead, I paused near his chair, bent to give him a brief buss on the lips, and took my bag to the changing rooms near the parking lot.

Soleth was gone, and Data had stowed our stuff, by the time I returned. "You packed," I said.

"The temperature is dropping, and a squall appears to be forming over the ocean. I wished to hasten our departure. As well, I know you have not eaten today."

"I was planning to hit Red Sands for coffee and breakfast-in-a-cup before we went back to the house. Unless you have a burning desire to meet everyone for breakfast? We still could."

"I do not," he said. "I enjoyed the eclectic assortment of customers at the espresso bar."

I grinned. "Yeah, I love to people-watch there, too. So, Red Sands then. Super." We got in the flitter, and he took the controls. "So, what'd Soleth want?"

"He wished to discuss a paper that I recently published in a physics journal."

"He didn't stay long."

"He also wished to determine whether or not you were 'available.' I explained that you were my girlfriend, and he left abruptly. We did exchange contact information, however."

"It didn't occur to him that me kissing you was a clue that we were together?"

"Apparently, he was not certain precisely how 'together' we are."

I responded with Data's favorite monosyllable. "Ah."

(=A=)

We beat the post-church rush to the coffee bar, and snagged my favorite table in the window, where we could glimpse the water, but also see almost the entire café. I introduced Data to my favorite game: making up ridiculous stories about who the other customers were, and I was pleased to learn that he was pretty good at improvising backstories based on clothing and hairstyles.

It was my turn to make up a story, when a bear of a man with wild grey hair walked in trailed by a much younger, black-haired version of himself. I was staring at them thinking that there was something familiar about the older one, when realization hit me. The fact that he opened his mouth to order, and a loud Scottish brogue issued forth didn't hurt.

"Oh, my god," I said. "That's Lachlan Meade."

Data followed my gaze. "Your instructor from the summer program at ACT?"

"That's the one. Excuse me a moment?"

"Of course."

I got up and crossed the room. "Lach?" I greeted. "What are you doing in Beach Haven?"

"Zoe Harris! Lassling! Yer the last person I expected t'find here."

"I live here," I pointed out.

"D'ye now? I was fair certain ye lived on some starship."

"Well, yeah, I kind of live on a starship, also. During the school year, anyway. But Beach Haven's home to me. Are you here for work or…?"

He changed his attitude so that his dark-haired follower was part of our conversation. "Visiting m'sis and her boy. Alistair, this is Zoe. She was one of our best in San Francisco last summer."

"He says that about all his students," I said to the boy (up close, I could tell he was a couple of years younger than me) I now knew was Alistair. "I think he's worried our parents will stop paying our reg fees otherwise."

"Nay, Lassling," Lach protested. "With you, 'tis all true."

I blushed faintly. "Well, thanks for that. You should come join us – Data and me, I mean."

"We'll be right over," he said.

I returned to the table and scooted my chair much closer to Data's, so my instructor and his nephew would have ample room. "I invited them to join us. I hope you don't mind, but I really want you to meet him."

"I would like that as well," Data said.

Lachlan and Alistair joined us a few minutes later, the former greeting Data with a smile and a hearty handshake and the words, "Zoe talked about ye so much o'er the summer, I feel as if I know ye. It's a pleasure."

"Thank you, sir," Data said. "I, too, have heard many stories about you."

"Data's the one who talked me off the ledge after my first week at ACT. I don't think he'd ever had anyone comm him in tears before."

"Zoe was certain that you hated her and thought she was talentless."

"Ach, Lassling, if I'd thought ye were talentless ye'd not have been in my section. I hand-picked your group."

"You did?"

"Aye, and not a one of you was disappointing, though, now I think on it, you did seem pretty closed off that first little while." He turned to Data, nearly upsetting the table in the process. "Thank you for convincing her to stay. But… didn't I see you in one of the clips she sent for her audition?"

"You did," Data confirmed. "I have been privileged to share the stage with Zoe in two plays, since she came to live on the Enterprise. She was most excellent as Juliet last month."

"I'd love to see video of that, if it exists."

"I would be happy to oblige."

They exchanged contact information, and the three of us talked for another half an hour or so. It was obvious that poor Alistair was both extremely bored and had nothing to contribute to the conversation. I tried asking about his interests, but he just shrugged and turned toward the window. Finally, he nudged his uncle and mumbled something about going home.

"We should be going ourselves," I said. "My stepmother just had a baby, and tonight's my family's annual New Year's Eve party. My father insisted we didn't need to help, but…" I let the sentence trail off.

Alistair was already out the door before Lachlan had even left the table. "My apologies, Lassling, Mr. Data, I didn't mean to monopolize yer morning," he said, hoisting himself from his chair. "Zoe… if yer looking for a summer program this year, I'm directing the Idyllwild Troupe's summer tour, and we haven't found our resident ingénue yet. Ye'd mesh with the group, I think, and if you c'n handle Shakespeare as ably as ye did the contemporary work you performed this summer, ye'd be pairfect. Comm me; we'll set up an audition, but it's mainly a formality." He leaned over our table and stage whispered. "It's a paid job, Zoe-lass. Looks great on a resume."

"I'll think about it," I said. "It was good seeing you."

"It was an honor to meet you, Mr. Meade," Data said.

"Nay, lad. The honor is all mine. Thank-ye for yer sairvice to the Federation." And with that, he was gone.

"Did that really just happen?" I asked Data after a minute or so of silence. "Did I just get a job offer while sitting in a café?"

"Apparently so."

"I thought that only happened in videos," I murmured. Then, at a more normal volume, I asked, "Do you think he meant it? And should I accept if he did?"

"I believe he meant it," Data said. "But, you should discuss it with your parents before accepting or declining his offer."

"If it were you being asked, would you go?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation in his response.

I could feel the membrane of our holiday bubble stretching thin.

"Oh," I said, in a tone that was both tired and deflated. "Can we go home now? I think I need to rest before the party."

"Of course, Zoe." Data said, but he seemed to sense that my mood had changed because he took my hand as we left the table, lacing his fingers through mine. "You have been offered a rare and valuable opportunity," he said softly as we walked back to my flitter. "I am certain the experience would be beneficial for you, but I must confess: I am not eager for you to be away from the ship all summer."

"Yeah, I'm not eager for that either," I shared. "I'm kind of tired; would you mind driving home?"

"I would not."

(=A=)

Stardate 44999.48

(Sunday, 31 December 2367, 7:30 PM, local time)

The party was due to start around nine that evening. By seven-thirty, I had napped and showered, eaten a light dinner, done my hair, and put on the dress I'd bought during my shopping day with Data - the dress that coordinated perfectly with the earrings he'd given me.

Data had asked my father if he could use his office for a few hours, so I hadn't seen him since we arrived home. I hadn't mentioned my encounter with Lachlan Meade to my father, and as far as I knew, Data hadn't either, but I didn't have a chance to ask him, because when I arrived downstairs, Uncle Zane was leaning against the bannister, waiting for me.

"Hey, you. I've barely seen you the last couple days."

"I've had a guest," I said.

"And I've spent more time with him, playing poker, than I have with my favorite niece. Join me in the music room?"

"I'm your only niece," I pointed out, as I followed him down the hall. The music room was lined with acoustic tiles and held an array of musical instruments, including, at that moment, my cello. "I liked your last playlist," I said. "That one song with the sort of disco-beat driving the melody and the Deltan chanting as counterpoint – genius."

He grinned his typical insouciant grin at me. "Gee, thanks, Zoe. You'd never know it from the stacks of letters and heaps of comm calls I get from you."

"Zane –" I'd stopped calling him 'uncle' to his face around the time I was ten, though I still introduced him to people that way. "Since when has our relationship ever been about letters and calls? You and me? Strictly face-to-face."

"Sure, when you were a kid and I could drop in on you any time." He sat down at the ancient upright piano that dominated one end of the room. We had a baby grand, as well, but that was in the great room. Probably, by now, someone had opened the lid and dusted the keys, so it would be ready for the party. Dad always kept it tuned and timed. "Now you're almost seventeen and dating men instead of boys – men who happen to be decorated officers."

"God, you make me sound so slutty. It's not men, it's one man. It's Data. You've met him. You have, as you said, played poker with him. Can't you see why… why I can't help what I feel for him?"

Idly, he played a few chords of one of his earliest songs, one I really liked. "Yeah, I can. But I'm your uncle, and I worry."

"Because of my age? Or his position?" I lowered my voice, "Or do you object to the fact that he's an android?"

"I don't object, exactly, Zoe-licious. I worry. You're so young… but watching him - watching you - I can't help but think that this isn't just some fling, some relationship you're using to test the waters of adulthood. You two… you seem connected."

He played another set of chords, one that was familiar to me because it came from an ancient rock-n-roll song we both loved. He favored me with another grin, and started singing along with his own playing:

"Well she was just seventeen
And you know what I mean
And the way she looked
Was way beyond compare

So how could I dance with another
Ooo, when I saw her standing there?"

"You know, it's kind of ironic that one of the people who doesn't want me to grow up too fast is trying to prematurely age me. I don't turn seventeen for three more weeks," I snarked, but he waggled his eyebrows at me, inviting me to join in.

I shook my head no, and he went on:

"Well she looked at me
And I, I could see
That before too long
I'd fall in love with her

She wouldn't dance with another
Woo, when I saw her standing there!"

"Come on, Zo'" he coaxed, riffing on the piano, before he launched into the bridge. "You know you want to."

I rolled my eyes, but he was right; I did want to sing. I started at the bridge, altering the lyrics slightly:

"Well my heart went boom
When I crossed that room
And I held his hand in mi-ine

Oh, we danced through the night
And we held each other tight
And before too long
I fell in love with him.

Now I'll never dance with another
Woo, since I saw him standing there!"

We took the repeat of the bridge and chorus at a slightly faster tempo, and we were both laughing by the time we finished the song.

"More?" he asked.

"Move over," I said. I joined him on the bench and dove into the opening of my other favorite Beatles song, Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da. We were having such a good time, riffing on the melody, and doing four-hand piano that we didn't realize we had an audience until we finished.

"Looks like Zoe and Zane got the party started early. Should I cancel the band, you two?"

"No, please?" I said. "You know I hate singing in front of people…"

"...unless you're playing a character," my father finished for me. "Yes, I know. Data, perhaps in between theory lessons and your classical studies together, you can coax Zoe to be more open with her other gifts. She used to sing around the house constantly, but ask her to show people, and she clams up."

"Dad, really – "

But he ignored me.

"I will take it under advisement," Data said diplomatically. To me, he added, "I was not aware you played the piano as well as the cello and violin."

"In this family," I said, "piano lessons start about as soon as you begin to draw breath. I'm… well, I don't completely suck, and I can play enough to rehearse on my own when I have to sing." I turned slightly to glare at my father, "I'm still mad at you for volunteering me to sing at your wedding. Give me another year and I might consider forgiving you for that." I was teasing, mostly, and we both knew it."

"Forgive me now, and I might consider not showing Data the home videos of all your ballet recitals."

"Dad!"

He must have sensed something other than mere exasperation in my tone, because he backed off. "Easy, Zoetrope, you know I'm just teasing," he said, but then, he added, "Anyway, Data's already got copies of the videos."

I had no idea if he was teasing me or not, so I offered the only response that I could: "Sure, Dad. Whatever."

(=A=)

Dad had warned everyone that because of the new baby, Gia wouldn't be very present at the New Year's Eve party, and he'd also asked everyone to keep things toned down. Of course, toned down in our family meant the music didn't quite shake the windows, and the lights could only be seen a nautical mile or so out to sea.

Music was provided by a hired band – recorded music was never used at Harris family parties – but Dad, Zane, and many of the musicians in Dad's orchestra, or just from around town, spelled the hired players. At one point, Data even joined the group, playing a borrowed oboe (with a fresh mouthpiece and reed, of course), and I really enjoyed watching him interact with my family and our friends.

Data and I both danced a lot, mostly together – he counted the steps for me, so I wouldn't stumble, but even though ballroom wasn't really my thing, I'd had enough dance training to know how to let him lead. Unlike the first time we'd danced, months before on the Enterprise, I didn't feel awkward in his arms. I felt completely at home. The fact that my black dress, shot through with hints of gold, complemented his dress uniform, didn't hurt. I hoped there would be pictures.

"Back, two, three, side, two, three," Data said softly, as the band played a slow song, and we waltzed to it. He'd returned to me after his dance with Kell and mine with Kavan. "You really do not need me to count this for you any longer, Zoe," he said.

I gave a slight shrug, a half smile. "Actually, I never needed you to count for waltzes. I just like hearing your voice."

"So, you have said. Would you not prefer conversation to counting?"

"That depends; will you tell me what you and my father were talking about on the beach this morning?"

"I will," he said, "but not here, and not now. It is a conversation best held when we are in a private space."

"Oh. So, it was his fatherly 'what are your intentions' thing." I wasn't really guessing.

"It was, but you will still have to wait until we are alone to hear the details of our conversation. Please do not attempt to wheedle it from me."

"I never wheedle," I protested. "Well… never with you." Mostly because I didn't have to. "Look up."

He did so, saw the plant hanging from the ceiling in the great room, and let his lips curve into a very slight smile. "Ah," he said. "Mistletoe. Traditionally hung from doorways. Those who stand under it are encouraged to kiss."

"We wouldn't want to mess with tradition," I said.

"No," he confirmed. "We would not." He bent his head and met my lips with his. It was a soft kiss - slightly open mouths, almost no tongue - but it left no doubt about the status of our relationship.

The flash of a camera and the chirp of his communicator came at the same time, pulling us out of the moment. "The music room's soundproofed," I told him. "I'll go with you…"

We exited the party, and moved back to the music room, where I sat on the piano bench and tried hard to not eavesdrop while he answered the comm. When he returned to me, I could see in his face that our holiday was over. The bubble had burst.

"That was the Enterprise," he said, sitting down next to me on the bench. "My presence is required, and I must return to the ship."

"Do you have to leave right now?"

"No," he said. "But I must depart before breakfast tomorrow."

"Okay."

"If you would rather not return to the party…" he began.

"No," I said. "I want to go back. I want you to experience our tradition. I just… I need a minute." We sat in silence for about that long, and then, hand in hand, we returned to the party, and I led him toward the musicians. "I'll be right back," I said. I left him chatting with the saxophone player, who was on a break, and went to whisper in my father's ear."

"Are you sure?" Dad asked me.

"Positive," I affirmed. I glanced at the clock. It was eleven-fifty.

"Alright then." He moved to the mic, waiting for the person currently singing into it to be finished before he silenced the band. "Everyone, I'm not sure what we did to deserve this treat. I suspect it has to do with our honored guest from the Enterprise, and I only wish my mother hadn't chosen to extend her annual trip this year, so she could be here, but my daughter Zoe has asked to sing, and I can't possibly deny her that."

He went to the piano, and beckoned to my uncle Zane, who conferred with him for a moment, then picked up an acoustic guitar. I went to the mic.

"Usually," I said, "I hate singing in front of people when it's just singing, but… tonight's special. A lot of people believe this is a Christmas song; it's not. It's just…" I shrugged and used the title of the song in my introduction. "It's a 'Song for a Winter's Night,' and… well, it should be obvious who it's for."

I didn't stare at Data the whole time I was singing – even when I was uncomfortable, I was a better performer than that - but when I got to the final chorus, my gaze locked with his.

"If I could only have you near, to breathe a sigh or two

I would be happy just to hold the hands I love

And to be once again with you

On this winter night with you"

I hadn't expected applause, but I probably should have, since it was polite, and since most of the people assembled had known me since I was a zygote. I murmured a soft, "Thank you," to the room, and left the mic, but my cousin Vanessa caught my arm before I could return to Data's side.

"Nicely done, Zo'. Nicely done."

"Lunch on Tuesday?" I asked her. I was pretty certain I'd be spending most of Monday wallowing in my room.

"Count on it." She released my arm and pushed me toward Data.

"So," I said, as I reached his side, "that happened. I blame you."

"Blame?" he asked, but I was pretty certain he knew what I really meant. "For someone who does not consider herself a singer, you have excellent poise and presence." Even for someone who claimed not to have emotions, he was usually better attuned to me than his words implied, but when I looked into his face, I saw… I'm not sure what. It was as if there was nervousness behind his usual placid demeanor. I put my hand on his chest, and he covered it with his own. "Thank you for the song, Zoe."

I wanted to tell him that I wasn't just singing, that I meant it, but someone nudged me, and when I turned around, I found Gia holding out a basket of sparklers.

"Has Zoe shared our tradition with you, Data?" she asked, handing one of the metal sticks to each of us. "As we count down the last ten seconds to midnight, we'll also pass the sparklers, and pass kisses – chaste or not, as appropriate – around the room." She smiled at us. "I'd be sure to stand next to each other if I were you. You're so dashing, Zoe might have competition."

"Thank you for the compliment," Data told my stepmother. "But I do not believe anyone here could compete with Zoe."

Gia took in both of us with her gaze. "No," she said. "No, I don't expect they could, after all."

The lights were dimmed soon after that, and the band, with their lead singer at the mic, began to play "Auld Lang Syne" very softly as the first sparkler was lit, and we began to count.

"Ten, nine…" I saw Kell and Kavan exchange a kiss. "Eight, seven, six…" Gia and my father in the middle of the circle. "Five, four…" Zane and this year's date (Belinda the bassoonist).

"Three, two…" Nick kissed my cheek. "I know you're technically my niece-in-law," he said. "But if it's alright with you, I'd rather think of you as a sister."

"I'd like that," I said.

My sparkler flared into life, and I turned around to Data, last in line, as we reached the number one. I passed the flame to him, and we held our sparklers at arm's length, out to our sides, as we shared the kind of kiss every young woman fantasizes about.

Around me, I heard champagne corks popping, heard the music swell. Data took my spent sparkler and his and put them in the water bucket designated for just such a purpose. He slipped his arm around me, and I stood with his chest brushing my back and his warm tenor voice in my ear, as we joined the singing:

"And there's a hand my trusty friend!
And give me a hand o' thine!
And we'll take a right good-will draught,
for auld lang syne."

(=A=)

Stardate 45000.39

(Monday, 1 January 2368, 3:30 AM, local time)

Data and I excused ourselves from the party at the earliest polite opportunity, pulling my father aside to explain what was going on, and then going through the kitchen and up the back stairs to avoid attention.

I changed out of my dress and into a tank top and pajama bottoms he'd seen me in before and sat cross-legged on the bed in his room while he packed. We didn't really talk much. We didn't really need to.

Once he had everything folded away, zipped shut, and otherwise fastened to his satisfaction, Data came and sat next to me. "I do not believe you should cut your vacation short," he said, "but if you wish, you may return with me."

"Part of me wants to," I admitted. "But I'm supposed to be here for another couple of weeks, and I have a job starting Tuesday, and I think I should at least do Lachlan's audition. I can always decide later if I want to go. Flying home commercial won't be as much fun as the ride here with you, though."

"And the journey back to the Enterprise will be far less enjoyable without your company," he responded. "If I am able to take leave to come back for you, I am willing to do so."

"That's an awfully long way to come just to get me alone, Data," I teased. "Do I need to give you a ride to the spaceport? The champagne was real, and I'm the only one who didn't drink any… well, other than you."

"Centaurus Base will be contacting me for beam-out within one hundred twenty minutes."

"Of course," I said. "I should have known." I glanced out the window, saw the beginning of false dawn. "How about we go sit on the deck until it's time?" I suggested. "We could listen to the waves, watch the sun come up…"

"I would like that."

I got off the bed and slid my feet into my slippers, and he picked up his luggage. We walked down the back stairs and out to the patio, where we sat together on the rattan sofa in the same positions we would have taken on his couch in his quarters.

I saw him start to speak, then decide against it. Instead, he just lifted his arm, so I could snuggle close, and we sat in comfortable silence until the wind changed directions and I began to shiver.

Wordlessly, Data removed his uniform jacket and helped me put it on, wrapping me in the fabric itself and his own residual body heat. He watched me for a few seconds, as if making a decision, then reached out and plucked his comm-badge from the front of the jacket and removed his pips from the collar. The former, he attached to his black t-shirt. The latter he pocketed. Then he pulled me close once more, wrapping his arms around me, and placing a kiss on the top of my head.

I'm not sure how long we sat like that, exactly, but when his comm-badge chirped again, the sky had turned pink. He tapped it and identified himself.

- "ID confirmed," came the response from the small speaker. "Standing by for transport directly to Starfleet shuttle Descartes on your signal."

Data released his embrace, and we both stood up. "I will see you soon," he promised. He brushed some of my hair away from my face and bent to kiss me. It wasn't long enough, but it promised more.

I hugged him, hard. "Travel safe." I said.

"I will try," he answered, never one to promise more than he could deliver. Very softly, he added two words that made my breath catch in my throat. "My Zoe."

He stepped away from me, grasped the handle of his luggage within one hand, and tapped his comm-badge with the other. "This is Lieutenant Commander Data," he said. "Energize."

I watched him shimmer into nothingness.

Then I shook my hands so that the sleeves of his jacket would fall past my fingertips, and I returned to the sofa. I was still sitting there when my father came out. I wasn't certain of the time, but it was full dawn by then, if not full daylight. "Data left?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "A while ago."

"You're wearing his uniform."

"Only part of it," I said. "He… sort of… gave it to me." My father joined me on the sofa. "Daddy?" I asked softly, my voice small and scared. "How did you do it, all those years?"

"Do what, Zoe?"

"Watch Mom go away, never sure if she was coming back. I mean… I was a kid. I wasn't cognizant of the danger and risk inherent in a Starfleet career. Not then. I mean, I knew she was a cultural anthropologist, but I thought that meant she would always be safe." I stopped. Restarted. "How did you do it, Daddy? How did you cope?"

My father was silent for a long time. Finally, in an almost broken voice, he admitted. "I didn't."

"Dad?"

My father took a deep breath, then explained, "I went on long tours, so I wouldn't have to face the empty house. I pulled you out of school and took you with me, so I wouldn't have to be alone. I cheated on her, so I wouldn't feel her absence. I did a lot of things wrong."

"But you loved her."

"I did. But I didn't like her work, and I began to hate myself for what I was doing."

"Oh."

"Zoe, this is one way in which we are not alike. You love with your whole being. We accepted your Mr. Data so quickly because we could see the depth of your feelings for him." He paused. "And we could see the depth of his feelings for you."

"Data doesn't have…" I started to say, but then I stopped, because while Data may not have had human emotions, whatever he had instead was just as good, if not better. I'd known from the moment he said we were a couple - no, from the moment he kissed me the night I saw his paintings of me - that what we had wasn't just real, but lasting. "Right before he left," I whispered, "he called me his Zoe."

"And?" my father asked.

I smiled into the early morning sky. "I'm good with that."

My father laughed and ruffled my hair. "Go upstairs and go back to bed, Zoetrope. I can you're your head is in the stars right now, and I'm not surprised. We'll see you when you're ready to come back to the ground."

I turned to kiss my father's cheek. "I love you, Dad," I said.

I wasn't sure how I knew, but I was suddenly very sure that everything was going to be fine.

Notes: Revised 16 March 2018. This concludes this section of For Auld Lang Syne. Data's side of the conversation with Zach Harris (and a little bit more) while Zoe was surfing can be found in the two-part fic INTENTIONS. Data and Zoe's regular story continues in chapter 14 of Crush II: Ostinato.

Data is called back to participate in the events that begin on Stardate 44995.3 (technically the 30th of December according to planetary calendars, but what's a couple of days when he wasn't deeply involved until events were under way?) The episode in question? Redemption (Part I). (Also, in my Trekiverse, uniform trousers have pockets when they need to.)

A nautical mile is 1852 meters (1.151 standard miles), and, on Earth, is so close to equaling one minute of arc measured on any meridian, that it's still the standard unit used to measure distance by sea or air. (I have no idea why this note is here, but it must have been relevant when I originally wrote it.)

"I Saw You Standing There," was written by John Lennon and Paul McCartney, and released in 1963. In the USA, it was the B-side of "I Want to Hold Your Hand." "Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da" was written by Paul McCartney and released in 1968 on The White Album. Common lore has it that John Lennon initially hated the song.

"Song for a Winter's Night" was originally written and performed by Gordon Lightfoot in 1967. "Auld Lang Syne" comes in many versions. The version we're most familiar with was 'collected' by Robert Burns.