Geordi didn't sleep. Couldn't. One moment he would swear to himself he'd never look at her again. The next, he'd decide that if he didn't tell her how he felt – immediately – he'd explode. Then he would decide that this was no time to play with her emotions – and seconds later he'd be convinced he'd never have another chance.
At eight hundred hours he couldn't take it anymore. He dressed, snapped his visor in place, left his quarters. He walked down the hall in fits and starts, still unconvinced he was doing the right thing. He found himself across from Justine's quarters, unable to ring the bell.
He started when the door opened of its own accord. Data exited the room - wearing the same suit he'd worn to the wedding reception. Geordi felt the floor spin a little and he took a step back to balance himself.
"Data?"
"Good morning, Geordi," Data said. "Ensign Riley is currently asleep. I suggest you return at a later hour."
"Did you spend the night?" Geordi spat.
Data took 0.004 seconds to run a rarely used ethical query. "I believe that is a personal question for the Ensign."
Geordi let out a little half-laugh. "Oh – my, god."
Data straightened his jacket. "Excuse me, I must prepare myself for helm duty."
He turned sharply to leave, and something inside Geordi broke.