"I'm not going." Justine pouted as she added droopy bird-V's to her landscape.

"Is there a reason for your refusal?" Data asked, applying another brush stroke to his canvas.

"Gah, I don't even know Commander Desi that well."

"The majority of personnel will be attending, regardless of their professional relationship to the groom."

"I don't want to go. I don't want to bother getting all dressed up. It's a waste of time."

"Attending a wedding is a human tradition."

"What are you saying?" Justine demanded. "That I should go because I'm human?" Her next bird was fat from her angry brush stroke.

"Yes." Data put down his brush and turned to face her. "We attend these events to celebrate life, humanity, and the connections between one another. Do not labor under the delusion that I speak to you as another android. If there is one thing I have learned from Enterprise, it is that everyone, from the Captain to the newest Ensign, struggle with their sense of self." He paused. "Come to the wedding."

Justine swallowed. "Ok."

Data began to pack up his easel. "I will call for you at 18 hundred hours."

"Call for me?"

"Yes. If that is an acceptable time."

Justine unconsciously put one hand to her hair. "Yes, that's fine."

Data left. Justine walked foggily to her bedroom to clean herself up, wondering if she had a date with an android.

When the door chimed again at 18 hundred hours, Justine was ready and waiting. She ran her hands over her blue dress and answered the door. Data stood stiffly in front of her, and he was not in uniform. Justine couldn't help running her eyes up and down his gray suit, his brown turtleneck. "You're wearing clothes!"

"I am nearly always clothed."

Justine blushed deeply. "No, I mean civilian dress. I've never seen you out of uniform before."

"Is this an acceptable outfit?"

"Oh, yes, I suppose. Me too?"

Data scanned her. "Yes, you appear to be dressed adequately."

Justine chuckled a little. "Thanks, Data." She stepped out of her quarters. "You sure know how to charm a lady."

"I am programmed in multiple techniques."

Justine pealed out in laughter, ending with a snort. "You're ridiculous."

"I am perfectly serious."

"I know, and that's what makes you ridiculous. Let's go." Justine slipped her arm around his, and Data, ever accommodating, bent his arm at the elbow. They entered the chapel together, and found seats beside each other. Justine couldn't help but notice that Geordi was there. She thought maybe their eyes met for a second, but of course, with that visor, she couldn't be sure. Data asked a question, but Justine had to shake her head and ask him to repeat it.

Across the room, Geordi watched Justine lean in towards Data. He watched her smile at him, watched a flush of warmth creep up her neck. He snapped his attention away from her, but his visor seemed to be malfunctioning, showing him the after image of her infrared body contrasted against the hard, cold outline of the android.

The wedding was simple, and short. Captain Picard presided over the ceremony, which was followed by a selection of traditional Immankan wedding music – Commander Desi was Immankan. Justine clapped politely along with the crowd, and, in spite of herself, couldn't help admiring the groom's stiff tuxedo and the bride's traditional white dress. They made a pretty couple, she thought.

The reception was in ten forward. Justine found herself at a table with Data, Chief O'Brien, and Keiko, his wife. Keiko immediately complimented Justine on her dress and hair, and Justine returned the sentiments. She found herself chatting easily with the older woman about fashion and the latest Earth pop music. Food was served, and Justine dished in, and helped herself to more than one glass of synthehol. Data sipped and ate politely, though certainly not with the same gusto as the rest of his table. As the servers cleared away the last of the dessert plates, a band began to play.

Justine paled a little. Chief O'Brien and Keiko stood to dance. Justine began to twist her napkin between her fingers. Data turned to her slightly.

"Don't ask me to dance," she snapped.

Data returned to his previous orientation.

They sat in silence for a few moments. Justine was the first to speak. "Is that Commander Riker playing trombone?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

The silence stretched out again.

"I can instruct you in proper dance technique," Data said, eventually. "I have taken several lessons myself."

Justine shook her head. "I'm too embarrassed."

"Why?"

"I've… been a bit of a spectacle lately. A freak. I can't stand the thought of anyone watching me."

Data scanned the room. "Twenty two point eight percent of the guests are watching the wedding party. Seventy seven percent of the guests are watching their dance or table partners. One percent of the guests are watching you." Data turned his gaze back to her. "One point two percent, including myself."

The breath caught in Justine's throat. "Oh." His yellow eyes were hard, boring into her. "Ok. Just one dance though, ok?"

"As you wish."

They stood. Data took her hand. It was a striking sensation, cool and smooth, unmoving beneath her own fidgeting fingers. He led her to the dance floor with the unaffected gallantry of his programming. They turned to face each other, and Justine blushed again, uncertain where to put her hands. Data, stiffly, took her waist with one hand, holding his other aloft. Justine took a step closer, and put one hand on his shoulder, and held his free hand with the other.

Geordi turned suddenly back to the bar. He cursed the VISOR that let him see, in infrared detail, the way Justine's heart rate shot up as the android took hold of her. The way she blushed, flushing white hot on his viewscreen. He pushed his half-finished drink away from himself. Guinan pulled it away. "Geordi," she said, quietly.

"I don't want any 'sage advice,' Guinan."

"When have I ever given 'sage advice?'" Guinan washed out his glass. "I just tend bar."

"He shouldn't be with her," Geordi mumbled.

"And why's that?"

Geordi pressed his lips together, frustrated, silent.

Justine, on the dance floor, was rapidly discovering that Data was a horrible, horrible dancer. She tried to follow his stiff, mechanical lead, but found herself mostly tripping over her feet. Or his feet.

"Are you enjoying this dance, Ensign Riley?"

Justine decided on brutal honesty. "No. I … I think I want to go home. Walk me home?" She met his eyes, pleading.

"Certainly." Data dropped the dance pose, and Justine breathed a sigh of relief. She preceded him as they left ten forward. Geordi watched them go, astonished. It was one thing to arrive with the android, quite another to leave with him. Was he taking her back to her place? To his place? Geordi felt sick.

Geordi was not the only one to watch the pair leave. Commander Riker and Captain Picard watched them go, wearing similar frowns. "Perhaps we should have been more … specific, Captain," Riker said, quietly.

"Data would never do anything untoward." Picard said. "He understands his role in this. Observation, nothing more."

"I think we may have neglected 'nothing more.'" Riker met Picard's eyes, his eyebrows raised.

"Nonsense."

Geordi left the bar. He stormed to the holodecks, all of which were empty. He shut himself into the first. "Computer," he said, "Image of Riley, Justine. Ensign."

She flickered into existence in front of him, wearing the polite smile of a cadet being photographed.

Geordi took a breath. "Justine. You can't do this to me. You're young, you're pretty, but you're my ensign. For God's sake, what have you done to me? It's not fair, you don't deserve – I don't deserve – there's no reason I should be so…" Geordi swallowed. "So in love," he whispered. "You – you brave little slip of a thing. You could've died, trying to save us from the Romulans, and who was there to catch you? Data." Geordi closed his eyes beneath his visor. "And now you're the one in trouble and who's there to catch you? Data." Geordi shook his head. "No, no, I should be the one to protect you. You're my ensign. Oh, Justine," he whispered. "I wanted to kiss you, too. That might have been my only chance and I blew it, and…" He looked at the unmoving, happy hologram before him. "I'm sorry."

He drew a breath. "Computer, end program."

Justine hesitated at her door, suddenly afraid. She turned back to Data. "Would you like to come in?" She kicked herself a little. Data didn't have emotions, he couldn't 'like' anything.

"Yes."

"Oh, ok." The door slid open and they entered. Why did Data suddenly have her on edge? "Do you want a drink?" She kicked herself again. Did Data ever 'want,' anything?

"No thank you," Data said. "I have reached my internal capacity for liquids."

"Ah well, I'm going to," she fumbled with the replicator, dropping her glass. It shattered.

Data stepped up behind her. "Are you alright, Ensign?"

Justine shivered, trying not to cry. "No-o! I was having such a good time!"

"Then why are you malfunctioning?"

"Tonight – made me remember everything I have to lose!" She hugged herself, rocking back and forth. "The wedding was so n-nice and Miranda will k-k-kill me!"

"That is an unlikely conclusion. She would not benefit by your death."

"You weren't there, Data," Justine hiccupped. "She – can – stop – my – heart."

Data ran a few propriety programs before reaching down and taking hold of one of Justine's hands, directing it to the depression on his side. "This," Data said, "is my off switch."

"Wha-what?" Justine stopped sniveling.

"I have told very few people of its existence. Please do not disclose its existence to anyone else."

Justine held still, worried she might accidentally turn him off. "Oh, Data… I didn't know."

"It is not common knowledge."

"Yes, I … thank you. I'm… honored." Justine felt she should move her hand, but was suddenly reluctant. "Doesn't it frighten you, to have an off switch?"

"No. I am incapable of feeling fear. Does Miranda frighten you?"

She took a shuddering breath. "Yes."

"The captain and crew, myself included, will do everything we can to protect you. Is that a comforting statement?"

Justine shook her head slightly. "What if that's not enough?"

Data's programming was working frantically. Imput: history of interactions with one Riley, Justine. Apply weighted emphasis to: tonight's events. Search: comfort AND friendship:unconditional AND human female AND courage. A strategy presented itself, with R2 success twenty percent below normal parameters. Test for initial response. Data touched her left cheek bone with half the standard pressure. Pupil response: positive. Heart rate: forty percent increase. He inclined his head towards her, and pressed his mouth against hers.

Justine gave a little gasp. His lips were fine, cold velvet.

Data withdrew his kiss, end program. Justine was speechless. Result: failure. Data stepped backwards. Justine reached out to him. "No, don't..."

"Do not what, Ensign Riley?"

"Go," she breathed. "Don't go."