Arrangements

Stardate 44672.16

(Sunday, 3 September 2367, 09:31 hours, ship's time.)

As it turned out, meetings of the entire senior staff - well, at least the key players among the staff – were less formal and slightly less intimidating than I'd imagined them to be.

Counselor Troi and Commander LaForge greeted me with hugs, while Commander Riker merely touched my shoulder as he skirted by me to take his seat. I couldn't figure out when Data had conferred with people, but it was obvious that the seat I was directed to, and the fact that he and the Counselor were flanking me while Geordi was directly across from me, was planned for my comfort.

They'd even arranged things so I could see out the large window that dominated the outer bulkhead wall. It wasn't quite seeing where we were going – the ship hadn't left Starbase Twelve yet, for one thing – but it was nice to have a view. Seeing the stars was actually sort of relaxing.

Data relayed his version of the past day or so, from the moment he burst into my hotel room, and then I told mine. Questions - many of them following along the same lines as those Data had asked me privately - were put to me, and I answered them as best as I could. Then Data explained about my bracelet, and shared that Lore had apparently made the switch all the way back in February. This elicited a non-verbal growl from Lieutenant Worf, but he seemed to be growling at the situation, and not at Data or me.

It was agreed that Data would try to locate Lore, and then they moved on to other business. I hadn't been asked to leave, so I listened as the talk turned to the status of those who were injured – and killed – in the explosions.

The counselor asked if the bomber had been captured, and the growly security chief shared that the Keep Earth Human League was "…taking credit for the incident." I wasn't adept at reading his tone, but my guess was that he was singularly unimpressed with the group's mission and motives.

But hearing him mention KEHL made me remember what it was I'd forgotten to tell Data, and had not included in my 'report' just a few minutes before. "That's it!" I exclaimed as my memories clicked back into order.

Data and the captain spoke at the same time, the former asking me what was wrong, the latter, much more crisply, demanding, "Ms. Harris, have you something to add?"

I took a breath, and tightened my grip on Data's hand under the table – I'd warned him in the turbo-lift that I would probably need hand-holding to get through the meeting - before I answered. "When I was telling Data what happened last night, and when I was telling everyone again this morning, I kept feeling like I was forgetting something."

The counselor seemed to sense that I hadn't gone over that part of my story, and that I was suddenly feeling nervous. Earlier, she'd wrapped a friendly arm around me. Now, she squeezed my shoulder in reassurance.

It helped.

"Continue," the captain urged, but his expression remained open.

"Data asked me last night –"

"This morning –" Leave it to Data to correct the timeline.

"This morning, whatever," I amended, slightly annoyed with him. I continued, addressing him, even though my words were really meant for everyone, "…when you asked why I went with Lore – I forgot. I forgot he'd told me in the café that he wanted me to carry a message. I even asked him if I looked like a carrier pigeon."

"Can you remember Lore's exact words, Zoe?" the captain asked in the kind of gentle tone that parents use with very excitable children.

My hand was a vise around Data's and if whatever he had instead of organic flesh hadn't been incredibly durable, I'd probably have pierced it with my nails. He shifted my grip, so that it was his hand enveloping mine, and I felt him press his thumb press into the back of it, between my own thumb and forefinger. In the back of my mind, I recalled him telling me that it was a pressure point for tension relief. He'd demonstrated it during one of our Saturday Sessions when my hands were sore from too much practicing. But that had been… before. At that that moment, I focused on the bloom of heat that came with his touch, and after a few seconds, I was relaxed enough to face the captain.

"He said, 'you look like someone who wouldn't want to be responsible for the destruction of a Starbase and the death of the good people who inhabit it.'" I paused to sip some of the water from the glass that had been set before me. "Captain Picard – everyone – I'm obviously about as well-trained as a Rigellian ringed wombat –" Geordi's lips twitched in response to that. "- but I saw the KEHL people at customs. The agent who handled my paperwork said they'd been there for weeks, but they still hadn't figured out that they should hold their demonstrations at the Earth-bound departure lounge instead of arrivals."

I had watched Data process information more than once. Now I saw the captain performing a more organic version of the same practice. It lasted several seconds, and then he asked, speaking very slowly, "Mr. Data, is it possible that Lore was actually responsible for these bombings?"

Data said that it was, and then the captain started handing out assignments, including one for me, though that was just to let the doctor examine the tongue-stud.

As everyone began to leave, Data stood with me, almost hovering. I watched him interacting with his colleagues: he confirmed with the doctor that he had given me a painkiller; he told Lt. Worf that they'd be conferring in about an hour and a half, and he received a friendly clap on the shoulder from Geordi, and then it was just the two of us again.

"Well, that was only slightly worse than a dental appointment," I snarked. "I'm sorry for being less than helpful."

"On the contrary, you handled yourself very well," he countered.

"I didn't," I couldn't help but protest. "I was terrified, and I felt so stupid, and I had to hold your hand like I was some idiot child."

"I beg to differ. You may have felt 'terrified' but you presented yourself with calm and poise. As to your need to hold my hand, is it not natural to seek support and reassurance in a new situation?"

"Well… yes," I agreed, somewhat reluctantly, and then I was moved to confess, "I didn't want to disappoint you."

He was quick to assure me, his tone as serious as I'd ever heard it, "You have not. Indeed, you could not."

Inexplicably, his reassuring words made my eyes misty. Wanting – no, needing – to make a gesture of appreciation for being supportive and kind during the meeting, as well as for refraining from lectures or judgement when I'd initially told him what happened, and finding that words were not enough, I rose to my tiptoes and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

It was probably just my imagination, but when my lips touched his skin, the metal stud in my tongue seemed to get slightly warmer.

Data lifted his hand to touch the spot I'd kissed, lowering it almost immediately, but he seemed to be as much at a loss for words as I was.

Finally, I asked. "Do meetings make everyone hungry, or just me? Do you think we could have breakfast before I have to submit to being poked and prodded by Dr. Crusher?" I didn't give him space to answer, just babbled on, "And… after that, could we get my stuff from your quarters so I can go home. You're awesome, and everything, and I know you had me stay with you so I'd be watched over, but…"

Data stared at me with wide golden eyes for over a second. When he finally answered me, it was with a question: "Is Ten-Forward an acceptable breakfast location?" Then he continued without missing a beat, just as I had. "If so, I will inform both Lt. Worf and the doctor that we will both be delayed, and I will escort you to your quarters after you have eaten."

It's a date, I didn't say, but a part of me wanted to, so I just smiled at him instead. I let him lead the way out of the conference room and to the bank of turbo-lifts, though I asked him as we walked, "Data, you know how I said in one of my letters that I wanted to see what you were like on duty?"

"Of course, Zoe. I have a perfect memory record of every letter and call we exchanged while you were away."

"Well, I should have been more specific. I really didn't want to observe you at work on a mission involving me."

He tilted his head at me, but all he said was, "Indeed."

(=A=)

Stardate 44672.67

(Sunday, 3 September 2367, 12:38 hours, ship's time)

"Okay, Zoe, open wide,"

Dr. Crusher had already scanned me from head to toe, but apparently, that wasn't enough. The next trick in her repertoire was an old-school visual inspection of my mouth, of the kind that involved pen-lights and tongue depressors. Never had I been so glad to have brushed my teeth and rinsed my mouth after breakfast. I mean, sure, warding off a potential infection in the hole in my tongue was great, but it was good to know the doctor wouldn't find anything gross during her… investigation.

"Is it still causing you pain?" she asked, while still holding my tongue with a pair of things that looked like tiny tongs. Why did doctors and dentists always do that? Unable to answer, I gave her my best slitty-eyed glare. "Sorry," she laughed lightly. "I hate it when dentists do that, too." She released my tongue, and gave me a moist towelette to clean the lower half of my face.

"So, is there any chance I can lose the jewelry before my mom gets back?" I asked.

Her smiling face crinkled into a frown. "I'm not sure," she said. "It looks very much like a standard barbell stud, but the balls on each end seem to be fused by some chemical compound. I'm running the analysis through the computer, but I'm honestly not even sure what to look for."

"Lore said it contained a data-solid. That would imply that there's a way to remove it without, you know, yanking my tongue out of my mouth."

"Nobody's doing any yanking," she agreed. "Do you remember anything else?"

I closed my eyes, trying to put myself back in the hotel room, on the bed. "He used a piercing gun that looked like a small phaser blaster. He forced my mouth open, pressed it against my tongue, and then there was a kind of muffled click, and then white-hot pain."

"Did you smell anything? Taste anything?"

"His breath was hot and smelled kind of oily and metallic. I don't know if that's normal… I mean… I kissed Data today and didn't smell that, but…" I trailed off in response to the look on her face. "What?"

"You kissed Data?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not some teenage nymphomaniac desperate to hit on my tutor," I said. "He took care of me last night and this morning. He let me hold his hand all through that meeting. I kissed him on the cheek. It was… there was nothing improper or inappropriate."

She shifted ever-so-slightly into mom-mode, and ruffled my hair. "Of course it wasn't," she said. "I didn't mean to imply anything wrong."

"No, it's fine," I said, lowering my voice. "I guess it's time to own my crush, instead of denying it, just… don't tell him, please?"

"Not a word," she promised. "Although," she added speculatively, "as close as the two of you seem to be, and as protective as Data is of you, I wouldn't be surprised if something real did develop between you, over time."

"The friendship we already have is real," I pointed out. "But even if I wasn't in his class, I'm too young, and he's a line officer, and I doubt he'd ever even be interested in me, so…" I sighed. "Anyway, I'm sixteen; I'm supposed to have crushes on wildly inappropriate people."

She smiled the mom-smile at me again. "You're handling everything with Lore so well, that I forget you're two years younger than Wesley sometimes."

"Oh! Wesley!" I shifted on the bio-bed, and nearly elbowed her in the nose. "He sent back a present for you, and I forgot to bring it when I came down here."

"Well, m'dear, you can bring it by later, or you can join Deanna and me for dinner in Ten-Forward and bring it there."

I was about to accept, when another thought crossed my mind. "I'd like that," I said, "but I haven't seen Dana and Annette since I left, and I'd really like to hook up with them. Unless… maybe you and Counselor Troi wouldn't mind if all of us joined you?"

She grinned. "I think it could be fun," she said. "Now, scoot. You're not sick, just slightly…"

"Perforated?" I suggested. "Apparently, Lore never got the 'do not fold, spindle, or mutilate' message."

The doctor laughed again. "Well, you have a good attitude, at least. Call me if the pain gets worse. Data's already sent the painkiller he had you drink to the replicator in your quarters. Have a dose before bedtime. In a day or so, you probably won't need it, but I'd feel better knowing you were getting good rest."

"Okay," I said. "And thanks." Impulsively, I hugged her, and after a beat, I felt her pat my back. Why did mothers – even other people's mothers - always do that? "See you at dinner."

(=A=)

Annette and Dana were waiting for me when I got to my quarters, and they immediately pulled me into a group hug.

"So," Annette asked, "how's our intrepid traveler?"

I grinned. "Come inside, and I'll tell all." Well, the edited version of all. I entered the passcode and they followed me inside, where my cello and suitcase were still sitting in the middle of the living room.

"Didn't you get back late last night?" Dana asked.

"Um… sort of. Let me go change to normal clothes and then we'll make snacks and you can get your presents."

"You brought us presents?" Annette asked, "Zoe, you didn't have to. Hey, what do you want to eat?"

"Something soft," I said. "Ice cream? Pie? A cheese omelet. I have a … thing… in my mouth." I dragged my suitcase into my room, and closed the door behind me, stripping off the sundress, and exchanging it for a pair of jeans and an ACT t-shirt. I collected the presents for my friends, and returned.

"A 'thing' in your mouth?" Dana demanded. I opened my mouth to show them. "Oh, god. Zoe. You pierced your tongue."

"Did I? I hadn't noticed." I couldn't help teasing them a little.

"Zoe!"

"Sorry, Dana. It's just… there's a long story behind it, and it's complicated and I don't know if I'm allowed to share it with anyone, but I will say that I think this totally elevates my credibility as a rebel."

"Does your mother know?" my best friend asked.

"More to the point, does Theo know?" Annette added.

"No one knows except you two and Dr. Crusher," I said. "And Theo and I decided it was better if we were just friends."

"But you two seemed like you were on your way to more…" Annette protested.

"He was so sweet," Dana added.

"We were, and we weren't," I explained. "But yes, he was sweet. Is sweet." I thrust their packages at them. "Here, open these."

They settled at the dining table to open their gifts, and I went to the replicator, and got tomato soup and grilled cheese for three. "Annette, your second package is from Wes," I told her, as I delivered our tray to the table, then went back for iced tea. "He made me promise not to let it stay with the stuff Mom and Ed are carting home for me."

"Oh, Zoe, you shouldn't have," Annette held up the scarf I'd picked for her.

"Well, you said you were hoping to be heading off to Edinburgh for college next year; I wanted you to be prepared for those soggy Scottish winters. Besides, I thought the gray and purple would suit you."

She wound it around her neck, "I love it," she said. "Now I want to see what Wes sent." And we watched while she opened that package as well. "Oh...this is lovely," it was a pin made from polished rocks. "You and he went shopping together, didn't you?"

"I might've given him some input," I allowed. "But it was his idea. Actually, both pieces – and Dana's too – came from an arts and crafts fair in one of the parks. Theo and some of his friends instituted a tradition where we all went to brunch on Sundays after he and his aunt went to church, and Wes joined us some of the time." My tone softened. "I think he's a little lonely at the Academy. He has so much practical experience, but he's never had to really compete before."

"You sound like you learned something about competition yourself," Dana observed, as she tore open the paper wrapping on her package. "Oh, Zoe… these are awesome." She held up the collection of hair ties I'd picked for her.

"I figured, just because you have a thing for ponytails doesn't mean you can't have really snazzy ones."

She leaned over to give me a one-armed hug. "I love them; thank you."

"I brought Josh a t-shirt; I hope that's okay?"

"He'll love it," she assured me. "But what did you bring for Data."

"What makes you think I brought anything to him?" I asked, using my best nonchalant tone.

"Zoe!" Dana protested.

"We all know you're his favorite, Zo'," Annette elaborated. "You and he are actual friends, not just teacher and student."

"Alright," I conceded, "I brought him something, but he hasn't opened it yet, I don't think, so I'm not telling."

"Spoilsport," Annette grumbled good-naturedly.

"How 'bout, instead, I tell you about the drama instructor I had. He's this big bear of a Scotsman, and for the first week or two, I was convinced he hated me. Every exercise he asked us to do made me uncomfortable and awkward, and I actually called my father crying at one point." I waited a beat, and then added in a very soft voice. "I even called Data, crying about him."

"You? Crying? About a teacher. I don't believe it," Dana said.

"You've never met Lachlan Meade," I said. And then I told them everything that had happened at ACT, at Suzuki, and in between, including seeing T'vek again. By the time I was done, and they had shared the events of their 'summer' break, it was time to meet Dr. Crusher and Counselor Troi for dinner.

Notes: For Data's side of the end of the previous chapter and the beginning of this one, see my one-shot In Conference. For purposes of this story, Data's quarters are on deck 8, and he's always had the two-room suite he should have had as 2nd officer. (Revised, 6 November 2016)