ROLLERCOASTER

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On A Day Like This

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One

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Deanna Troi was Scat Singing.

She didn't seem to have noticed that Tasha had picked up on it, or if she had, she didn't care. She Skiddely-Bee-Doodly-Bopped merrily to herself under her breath as the two friends sat side by side in the Captain's Yacht. Tasha had to push her face right against the Betazoid's before Deanna could be pulled from her reverie and turn her attention to Tasha.

'What?'

Tasha curled a soft smile. 'Somebody's getting what's good for her,' she murmured in hushed tones.

'I don't know what you could possibly mean.'

'Deanna Troi, you are not even making any attempts to hide it. Look at you – you're like a Cadet on Romulan Ale. You've got that glow.'

'What "glow"?'

'The Deanna Troi's In Love Again Glow.'

'I'm not glowing.'

'Well, you're certainly singing.'

Deanna smiled. 'I'm just happy, that's all.'

'There's a giant, purple lovebite on the side of your neck.'

Deanna nervously brushed her fingertips over her collar before stopping short, narrowing her eyes at Tasha. 'You're lying!'

'Caught you out for a second though, didn't I? Anyway, you've got the smell of his cologne all over you. And you know that's not a lie.'

Deanna sniffed the ends of her long, dark hair. 'Is it really that obvious?'

Tasha nodded. It had been obvious right from the start, of course. Ever since they'd arrived in orbit around the Ba'ku planet, it had been as though a long-dormant electric charge between Commanders Troi and Riker had suddenly sparked back to life. They looked at one another differently now. Some invisible wall had crumbled away.

And it wasn't just Deanna and Will who were acting differently – everybody was. It was as though they were all breathing new air aboard the Enterprise. For some strange reason, the whole ship's blood was running quicker. Geordi's medical miracle was the most tangible change. Eyes blighted from birth now saw colours and depths as though there was never anything wrong with them in the first place. There were other things, too – more subtle differences. Worf was more distracted than she'd ever imagined she'd see him throughout their long friendship. Beverly Crusher seemed to be constantly fixing her hair, as though it was steadily growing more and more unmanageable by its own volition. And then there was the Captain's midnight flit in the face of Starfleet Command's orders, and his crew's hasty decision to join him in his act of disobediance.

And, of course, there was her and Data. As happy that she was that this sudden change in the atmosphere had given two of her best friends the hormonal nudge that they needed to rediscover their romance, it was the last thing that she herself needed. Over the months following the events that had caused them to miss Worf's wedding day, and Data's unhappy confessional in the escape pod, they had set about slowly making things better between them. He seemed to have been gradually exorcising the Borg Queen's ghost, with her encouragement and support, and their friendship had blossomed. She was still in love with him, but she had begun to find peace with the fact that he didn't feel the same way about her, and to enjoy their platonic relationship for what it was.

At least, she had, until they'd shown up to collect the malfunctioning little Son Of A Scientist from the damned Ba'ku.

Since then, she hadn't been able to chase the still-vivid memories of how the Tsiokolvsky virus had affected her all those years ago from her mind. This wasn't anywhere near as overpowering as the virus' effects – she wasn't about to squeeze herself into far too little lamé and sheer silk and hurl herself at him again – but it felt like a watered-down version, nevertheless. Yet again she found her libido knocking at the cockpit of her brain and asking if it could steer for a while. She was doing her very best to avoid yet another embarrassing situation but, denied sexual release, her frustrations were coming out in different ways. They had started bickering again.

Data was sitting by himself, staring off at nothing, in his own world. Most likely still wondering why that Ba'ku kid had been frightened of him. That annoyed her. How dare he brood over somebody else's reaction to him and pay hers so little attention?

She removed a shoe and gently threw it at him to gain his attention. He blinked out of his contemplations and turned to her.

'I had no idea you even had any civilian clothes,' she teased, out of want for anything better to say.

'I could say the same of you.' Data tossed back the shoe.

She started putting the shoe back on. 'You got it specially, didn't you?'

'Why are you interested in my outfit?'

She nudged Deanna. 'Bet you anything Geordi helped him pick it out. The blind leading the blind.'

'Geordi's sight had already been restored when he assisted me in finding this…' Data trailed off.

'So, you did get it specially.'

'Yes. Although I do not see what difference that makes.'

Tasha shared a grin with Deanna and shrugged. 'I just like being right, that's all. Blue's a good colour on you, incidentally.'

'Yes,' Data replied, absently. 'Geordi thought so, too.'

There was a heavy pause as Data went back to his thoughts. Clearly, if Tasha was waiting to hear him say that her own specially replicated civilian clothes looked nice on her, she'd be doing so for a long time.

She rested her feet up on a hefty box of weaponry, puffing irritably through the silence. After a while, she became aware of a strange sound emanating from the Captain as he piloted his yacht down to the surface of the planet. She swapped glances with Deanna, Worf and Beverly.

'Is he… singing?'

-x-

The Ba'ku scrambled about her, loading up provisions for their escape from the village while she helped to set up transport inhibitors as swiftly and smoothly as possible. She wondered absently what that must be like – to have lived in a place for so very long, only all of a sudden to be under threat of losing it. She couldn't remember the home that she must have had on Turkana before her parents had been killed. The closest she had ever come to losing what felt like home had been when the Enterprise D had crashed – and then she'd been too busy trying not to die to really appreciate the experience. As she pondered, a tall, youthful man dodged past too close to her, tripped over her foot and went tumbling to the ground, along with armfuls of food rations.

'Oh! Sorry!'

The man looked up at her; only a shadow of embarrassment colouring the good humour in his expression.

'Just do me a favour,' he replied, scooping up the dropped rations, 'if anyone asks tomorrow why their lunch tastes muddy, deny all knowledge of what just happened.'

Tasha offered down a hand to help hoist the man up. 'You're very cheery for a man who's just been woken up in the middle of the night to flee the home he's had for centuries.'

'You're very cheery for an Officer of an intergalactic fleet who's just jeapordised her entire career.'

'I trust my instincts,' Tasha replied. 'It's not all over for me just yet.'

'I trust mine, too,' replied the man with a smile. 'And it's not all over for me yet, either. Besides – I might be losing my home for a little while, but I just fell over the feet of a particularly beautiful woman.' He struggled to extend a hand to hers without dropping more rations. 'My name's Marven.'

'Tasha,' replied Tasha, suppressing her smile at his charming impertinence and keeping her handshake as businesslike as possible.

'Hello, Tasha,' beamed Marven. 'Looks like we've both fallen on hard times – I've recently been made homeless – you, recently unemployed… how much we have in common…'

Tasha shook her head. 'Marven, before you start…'

Marven allowed the faintest frown to wrinkle his forehead. 'You're married?'

'No, but… it's complicated.'

'We're all of us complicated, Tasha…'

Marven trailed off, his attention caught by something up in the sky. Tasha followed his gaze. Ships! The Son'a were attacking!

'Run!'

They scattered away from the blasts from the Son'a ship. Amidst the confusion she saw Data for a moment – not running away from the explosions, but towards them. She didn't even realise that she was still holding Marven's hand until she let go in order to pursue Data, screaming obscenities at the metal idiot to get to cover as she went. A gaggle of Ba'ku pushed past her briefly, causing her to lose sight of Data. When she saw him again, he had a young boy in his arms and had changed tack – heading for shelter as fast as he could. He was shouting something to her, but she couldn't hear above the panicked roar and the blasts blighting the village. As he approached her, he slung the child into one arm and used the other to unceremoniously grab her waist and heave her up as he ran.

'What are you doing?' she furiously demanded.

A blast hit the ground where she had only just been.

'What are you doing?' Data countered. 'Do you wish to be killed?'

'I was going after you!'

'I am considerably faster and more physically robust than you are,' Data countered. 'I am capable of looking after myself.'

'So am I. Would you put me down?'

'Not until you are safe.'

'Dammit, Data, put me down!'

The boy slung over Data's shoulder squinted across at Tasha. 'Is that your wife?'

'No!' Chorused the pair.

'Betrothed, then?'

'No!'

'Just because you're acting like she's your wife.'

'Well, she is not.'

-x-

They lost a handful of Ba'ku in the attack – beamed away by the Son'a rather than killed, although Tasha didn't hold out that much hope for their prospects aboard the ship of their aggressors. Diligently, she and the other disobedient Officers helped the Captain to guide the remainders to relative safety. The sun came up as they trudged a long crocodile of refugees through green hills. It looked to be another glorious day – not a cloud in the sky. It was mid-morning by the time that they stopped, and the warming sun made Tasha all but forget that she'd been awake all night.

Maybe it wasn't just that. This planet was strange. It did odd things to people – filled them with strange energies.

Marven was quick to find her again, and was as warm and cheering as the sun as he helped her unpack the food rations to hand out.

'I'm complicated too, you know,' he announced, piecing out chunks of bread.

'What?'

'You said your love life was complicated.' Marven grinned. 'So's mine. Except that, some time ago, I accepted its complexity. Which, in turn, suddenly made it much more simple.'

'I don't understand.'

'Well,' Marven retorted, 'let's put it this way – what exactly is it that's so troublesome about your life that it would cause you to potentially turn down the advances of – if I may say so – a remarkably attractive suitor such as myself?'

Tasha quirked an eyebrow. '"Remarkably attractive", you say…?'

'I'm far too old to indulge in false modesty,' Marven replied. He blinked at her. 'Why? Would you deny it?'

'I wouldn't go that far…'

Tasha wasn't quite sure how it was that Data had managed to get between Marven and she, but there he suddenly was, passing a stare of vague irritability between the pair of them. Tasha bit her lip, cutting her flirtatious banter with Marven abruptly short.

Marven seemed unperterbed. He offered a ration of food out to Data. 'You first in line for some delicious emergency supplies, then?'

'I do not need to eat.'

'Shame,' retorted Marven with a smile. 'This stuff is absolutely the finest in tasteless, dry carbohydrate.' He held a ration to his nose and gave it a deep sniff. 'Mmm. Functional.'

Data clearly decided to give up on Marven, and turned his attention to Tasha. 'There are seven pregnant females in this group, and sixty eight young children. They are in urgent need of nourishment.'

'We're getting the rations ready for them as quick as we can,' snapped Tasha in reply. 'We'd be faster at it if we weren't getting distracted.'

'Yes,' retorted Data, casting a loaded glance towards Marven, 'you would.'

-x-

The Enterprise crew themselves were among the last to get food rations. With Worf off scouting the route ahead, the Captain indisposed and Data annoying her as if it was his job, Tasha found the two other female Officers to eat her breakfast with. Deanna just picked delicately at her food with a far-away smile, but Beverly was quick to give Tasha a conspiratorial nudge.

'So, what's with Tall And Handsome?'

'Marven?' Tasha shrugged, smacking her lips over her first dry, bland mouthful of stodgy ration. 'I don't know. He's really great, but… I don't know.'

'Well, if you don't want him, can I have him?'

'Beverly!'

'What?' replied the Doctor, innocently. 'Everyone's pairing up. Deanna's all of a flutter over Will again, Jean-Luc's all over this Anij woman like a shrunken spacesuit and here's me widowed, alone and frisky as a midsummer stoat.'

Tasha frowned. 'Are stoats particularly frisky in the midsummer months?'

'It's a saying,' shrugged Beverly.

'I've never heard it before.'

'It's a saying that I just made up. My goodness, you know who you sound like, don't you?'

'Hmm.' Tasha gazed down at the unappetising food in her hands.

'Oh, Tasha,' sighed Beverly. 'Is that why you're giving this new guy the cold shoulder? I thought you were happy just being friends with Data.'

'I am…' Tasha slumped. 'I was. I just don't want Marven to become another Morton Baker. It took a long time for that guy to forgive me for humiliating him the way I did.'

'You tried to warn him…'

'That was no reason to act like he didn't exist the moment Data got emotions.' Tasha sank a cheek into her hand. 'I wasn't able to make Morton understand just how heavily the history between me and Data weighs on me. And I know I can't make Marven understand it. He's so footloose and fancy-free. He doesn't see. He doesn't see how Data's always… always there.'

She paused, running the last phrase over in her mind. 'He's always there. Always!'

'You're getting too knotted up over this,' announced Deanna from her little bubble of bliss. 'Relax. Data's made his feelings clear to you – you're a free agent. If you like Marven, then go for it.'

'I don't know,' Tasha sighed. 'I don't know if Data's saying one thing but expecting another…'

'This is Data we're talking about,' Beverly replied. 'He's hardly one for emotional manipulation or mind games.'

Tasha turned back to Troi. 'What do you think, Deanna?'

'If you're asking me whether I can sense something other than what he's saying,' Deanna shrugged, 'it's like I keep saying – even with his emotions running, apart from the odd blip, he barely registers for me. Compared to an average human's, his emotions to me are like a cave painting next to a Rembrant. I can't get any detail out of him. You annoy him but he's fond of you. That's all I can tell, which is no more than he's told you himself.'

'So?' Beverly asked, impatiently. 'Do you like Marven?'

Tasha scoffed a soft laugh at her friends. This was like being thirteen again. Or at least it would be had she been a normal thirteen-year-old, not one hiding in sewers from drug-addled rape gangs and whoring herself for table scraps.

'He's very charming,' Tasha replied.

'And…?!?'

'And, maybe if he isn't too busy fleeing for his very life this evening, I might see if he'd care to join me for a fine dinner of dry, tasteless rations,' conceded Tasha.

'Atta girl,' replied Deanna in a particularly Rikerish manner.

'Shame,' smiled Beverly. 'But remember – if things don't work out with him, I'm next in line.'