ROLLERCOASTER
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The Other Woman, part 2
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Tasha pushed her ice cream around the glass a little more. It was starting to melt at the edges now, which didn't make it any more appetising, she had to admit.
'Don't you want your dessert?'
'Not hungry,' Tasha muttered.
Deanna licked her spoon clean. 'Well, there's no point in letting it go to waste…'
Tasha pushed her sundae glass over towards her friend.
'I screwed up, Deanna,' she sighed as the Betazoid took a nibble of the donated ice cream. 'I screwed up big time.'
'What did you say to her?'
'Just what was on my mind,' Tasha replied. 'Doesn't mean I was fair on her at all. Mind you, she'll probably just see that as a challenge. I know I would.'
'I don't think Jenna necessarily wants to be in direct competition with you, Tasha,' Deanna replied. 'It's unprofessional and it's… it's just not her.'
'I know, I know,' Tasha sighed. 'Sweet, ditzy little Jenna D'Sora. Wouldn't hurt a fly, right?'
'Tasha, I'm not sure that I fully understand the intensity of your reaction to their relationship.' Troi paused. 'Are you in love with him?'
'No,' replied Tasha, quietly. 'It's just… you remember that awful business with the Brattain, when we all started seeing things…?'
'How could I forget?'
'I was on my way to the Bridge,' Tasha continued, 'and I could feel these hands all over me. Pawing at me, tearing at my uniform… by the time the Turbolift stopped I was a wreck. But he calmed me down. Even though he was running the ship pretty much by himself at that point, he took the time to calm me down. And during that ridiculous game of Q's… that silly medieval one… I asked him if he thought I looked good in tights, and he started yammering on about not being able to make subjective conclusions regarding sexual attractiveness, and general norms of aesthetic beauty… and I told him "just say yes". And he said "yes". And, for some reason, that made me disproportionately happy.' She paused. 'He asked me to be with him - his Significant Other. I told him no.'
'And now that he's found somebody else, you've changed your mind?' Deanna asked.
Tasha regarded her friend seriously. 'Do you think it's actually going to work, those two? Do you honestly think they could last?'
'Without wishing to be unkind,' Deanna admitted, 'no.'
Tasha nodded in agreement. 'Because he's not ready.'
'But plenty of relationships don't work out,' Deanna argued. 'It's the attempt that really matters, not the outcome.'
'Not where you're going, but how you get there, huh?' She drummed her fingers on the table. 'I guess it makes no difference right now anyway. He's picked his dance partner for the foreseeable future, and it isn't me.' She paused. 'I think I do want that ice cream after all.'
'Ah.' Deanna glanced down at the now empty dish in front of her. 'I'll get you another one.'
-x-
It was with a heavy heart that Tasha noted that she and D'Sora weren't to share a shift the next day. As much as Tasha wanted to settle matters straight away, she decided that disturbing the Lieutenant's free time for a personal discussion would only make matters worse. Jenna was probably in bed, sleeping, she reminded herself. Or, she considered darkly, doing something else in bed. It wasn't until the time came to switch shifts that Tasha came face to face with D'Sora again; by which time, Tasha had had ample opportunity to think about what had been said between the two women and reach a resolution.
'Lieutenant,' greeted Tasha flatly as D'Sora stepped on to the Bridge.
D'Sora, white faced, didn't meet her gaze.
'May I have a word with you in private?' Yar added.
Riker looked up. 'You can use the Observation lounge, Commander. It's free.'
'Thank you, Sir.' Tasha stepped into the empty Observation lounge and waited for D'Sora to follow her.
'Listen,' she began as soon as the door had shut.
'Commander...' attempted D'Sora, still not looking up.
'I was out of line yesterday, Jenna,' Tasha admitted quickly, not wishing to lose any momentum. 'Your private life is just that, and I hope that any reservations I have over your personal affairs haven't jeopardised our professional relationship.'
'Commander…' Jenna repeated.
'I'm not pretending that we were ever destined to become bosom buddies,' Tasha continued, 'but you're a valued member of my team, and so far I think we've worked together pretty well. Now, I don't think…'
Tasha trailed off, properly noticing D'Sora's downturned expression for the first time. It was pretty obvious that the Lieutenant had been crying.
'It's OK, Commander,' muttered D'Sora. 'You won't have to worry about me and Data any more.'
'You broke up,' concluded Tasha.
D'Sora nodded.
Relief and guilt flooded Tasha's mind in fairly equal measures. 'Not because of what I said…?' She paused as a horrible thought came to her. 'Jenna, please don't tell me I made you feel I'd make your work life harder for you if you stayed with him. That was never the case. God, what have I done…?'
Jenna sighed, and offered Tasha what was almost a conciliatory smile. 'Commander, I've been working under your command for a long time. Long enough to know that, certain elements of rather frightening possessiveness aside, you're not that kind of person.' She looked down again. 'Your reaction was a complication, I'll admit, but there were so many elements standing in the way of our relationship working, your disapproval was a… a comparatively negligible factor.' She paused, and snorted a slight, sad laugh. 'Listen to me. Now I've started to talk like him.'
'I do that sometimes, too,' muttered Tasha.
'In fact,' Jenna continued, 'I probably have you to thank for saving us all a lot of time and upset. What you said to me was unkind, but it was true that it was a short-term thing as far as I was concerned, and an experiment as far as he was. It was never going to work. I suppose I knew that, deep down, but it took a lash of your vinegar tongue to make me admit it… no offence.'
'None taken.' Tasha paused. 'Maybe I should become a Counsellor.'
Jenna laughed a little again, incredulously this time.
Tasha shrugged. 'Maybe not, huh?'
Jenna leaned slightly against the table, regarding Tasha with a sudden seriousness. 'You're crazy about him, aren't you?'
'Why does everybody keep asking me that?'
'Seriously, what is it between you two? He wouldn't tell me any details.'
Tasha folded her arms. 'It's a very long, very strange story, and I don't really have the energy to tell it right now.'
'I don't know how you do it,' Jenna sighed. 'If there's one thing I learned from this it's that he is not a wise choice to try to fall in love with.'
'But I'm not in love with him,' Tasha replied. She cleared her throat, suddenly. 'Thank you for your time and patience, Lieutenant. You can return to your shift now. Lieutenant Worf will get you up to speed.'
D'Sora gave Tasha a small, sad smile. 'Aye, Sir.'
-x-
'Hi there.'
Data was painting yet again, Tasha noted. For some reason, she took that to be a bad sign. He only looked up from his easel very briefly. 'Hello.'
Tasha stayed close to the door of his quarters. 'I heard the news.'
'"News"…?'
'About D'Sora and you.'
'Indeed,' Data replied as he continued to paint. 'It was as short-lived a liaison as you described. You must be gratified that your hypothesis proved to be correct.'
'You think that makes me happy?' Tasha shook her head. 'What sort of a monster do you take me for?'
'I do not believe that you are "monstrous". I am simply recalling that you enjoy being validated. It must be quite a relief for you to know that you were right after all.'
Tasha paused for a moment.
'You wanna know something terrible?' She asked him after a while. 'I do feel relieved. But not for the reasons you're suggesting.'
Data stopped to clean his brush. 'Why is that terrible?'
'Data…' Tasha took a deep breath. 'I just don't like seeing you with anyone else.'
Data continued to clean his paintbrush. 'With any suitors but yourself, you mean?'
'I don't even like thinking about you being with someone else.'
'You feel sexually covetous – jealous? Even though you rejected my proposal of monogamy, and have demanded that the few sexual liaisons we have had remain secret?'
Tasha shrugged a little, apologetically. 'I never said it wasn't hypocritical. But it's the truth.'
Data nodded to himself. 'That would explain your puzzling interrogation of me following Ishara's departure.' He looked across at her. 'Tell me; am I to anticipate such a reaction from you whenever I attempt another romantic relationship in the future?'
'I don't know,' Tasha sighed. 'It's been a weird week for me. I haven't been myself.'
'I do not understand.'
Tasha paused again. 'Remember what I said after the O'Briens' wedding, about finding myself cold in bed and kicking myself?'
'I do.' Data shook his head with a small frown. 'It still makes no sense to me.'
'Well,' Tasha admitted, 'at the seminar, it happened.' She folded her arms protectively about herself. 'Almost everybody there was male, and absolutely every man that I talked to was a tedious, humourless bore. Needless to say, I went to bed early and alone every night I was there, and every night I couldn't stop thinking about the irony that not one of those guys was anywhere close to as charming, or funny, or warm, or good natured as an android.'
'…by which, you are referring to me…?'
'Yes, Data. Try to keep up.'
'I am trying.'
'I realised then that you're a better man than pretty much every "real" man I've ever been with.'
Data offered her a small smile. 'It is encouraging to hear such sentiments, Tasha.'
Tasha took a couple of steps towards the easel. 'Data?'
'Yes?'
'Would you have sex with me?'
Data blinked. 'Now?'
'I don't want to give you the wrong impression here,' Tasha continued, nervously, 'I still don't think we're ready for any sort of official relationship… I just… I'd really like to have sex with you right now.'
'You explicitly told me that you did not want a reprisal of our casual sexual encounters.'
'That was years ago,' Tasha argued. 'People do change their minds over time.'
'But meaningless sex has always returned us to fairly similar situations,' Data replied. 'It is only logical to assume that the repeat of such an act will have the same effect.'
'It wouldn't be meaningless! It's never been meaningless…'
'Nevertheless, I believe that what you are suggesting would complicate matters. I am also less than confident about your motives…'
'So?' Tasha folded her arms again. 'Has that ever stopped you before?'
'As you yourself mentioned, Data reminded her, calmly, 'people do alter in their convictions over time. I have learned that you usually proposition me for sex when you are not thinking as rationally as you could, and that the negative outcomes of accepting such a proposal tend to outweigh any short-term positive experiences of the act itself. Therefore, as much as I appreciate your offer, Tasha, I believe that I must decline.'
Tasha took a step away from him. 'You're rejecting me?'
'My apologies,' nodded Data in reply. 'Perhaps, in time, our situation will alter so that we…'
He broke off suddenly as he was forced to lurch sharply away from a heavy glass sculpture, which had, nanoseconds before, found itself hurtling through the air towards him.
It was only as it smashed thickly on the wall behind him that Tasha realised it must have been her who had thrown it. She clasped her hands over her mouth.
'I'm sorry!'
'There is no need to apologise,' Data replied as he stared down at the lumps of broken glass in surprise. 'I was not hurt. Indeed, your missile could not have harmed me even if it had hit me.' He looked back up at her. 'I can only assume that your action was a basic expression of anger. You have my apologies for making you feel that way.'
'I didn't even…' Tasha attempted, 'I didn't… I'm really, really sorry.' She bit her lip and jerked a thumb towards the door. 'I think I'd better just… before I mess up any more. I'll… um… see you on the Bridge.'
'Indeed.' He stooped to pick up the broken glass as the door closed behind Tasha, but then suddenly froze. The smashed sculpture still untouched, he straightened up speedily and placed a fresh canvas upon his easel. He set to work quickly, with long, fluid strokes and a meticulously calculated imitation of carelessness. It took him less than twenty minutes to complete. He stood back, examining the work. He was not certain that it was technically "good", but then, that had not been the objective. He cocked his head at it a little – the basic kinetic quality of the soaring glass, and behind it, the creator of that action, in muddled lines of black and gold; a female figure, bright and vibrant with a primal rage. He did not believe that he had correctly captured Tasha's expression. Perhaps she had not been simply angry. Perhaps there had been more to it than that. In fact, that was most likely. There was usually far more complexity behind Tasha's reasoning than he could ever fully understand.
He stared at the painting for a moment more, then stooped and began to pick the broken fragments of the sculpture up off the floor.
