Brooding

Stardate 44679.83

(Wednesday, 6 September 2367, 03:23 hours, ship's time)

I woke up in the middle of the night with Lore's voice whispering in my head, and the taste of his kiss on my lips. Oil and acid, I remembered, and sense memory made me feel like I was going to vomit. I raced for the bathroom, not bothering to turn on a light because I knew there would be no stray shoes, or tossed-aside books, or cast-off clothing to step over, on that floor.

There was also no way to hide the sound of retching from my… host. Or was he my roommate? My dream-warped brain couldn't pin down a name for what Data was to me in this moment, though I very quickly discarded 'guardian,' but it didn't matter because his shadow fell over me. "Zoe," he asked. "Are you ill? Do you require Dr. Crusher's services?"

"Go away for a minute, please?" I begged, but he surprised me by staying. I was, in turns, annoyed, embarrassed, and grateful because he dropped to his knees beside me and smoothed my hair out of my face, holding it out of the way as I finished heaving into the toilet.

They say it's your real friends who will hold your hair while you puke, but I'd always thought that meant best girlfriends.

After I'd sat back on my own knees, and had been still and silent for over a minute, Data asked, "Are you through?" in the same calm tone he would have used to ask me if I'd like a cup of tea.

"I think so," I said, I changed positions, sitting flat on the floor with my back against the bathroom wall. "You didn't have to come running," I said. "But thanks."

He chose not to respond to that directly, asking only, "May I get you anything?"

It crossed my mind to say no, but Data seemed to appreciate being useful. Or needed. "Something to drink would be good," I said. "Something carbonated. Ginger ale?"

"I will meet you on the couch," he said. "Let me assist you." He extended both hands, reaching to help me to my feet, and I allowed it. Then he left me alone.

I waited until I heard the bedroom door swish closed, and then I used the toilet for a completely different purpose, washed my hands, splashed water on my face, and rinsed my mouth out. After the ginger ale, I'd be able to brush my teeth. Not before.

I hooked a sweatshirt from where I'd left it on the foot of the bed, and pulled it on over the t-shirt and sweats I'd been sleeping in. Then I padded out to the main room of Data's quarters, and curled up in my corner of his couch, tucking my feet under me. "Sorry about that," I said. "I'm not sick, really, it was just a really powerful nightmare."

"This is the second night your sleep has been interrupted in such a fashion," Data pointed out, joining me on the couch, and handing me the glass of ginger ale. There was condensation forming on the outside of the glass, and I looked around for a napkin, but he'd anticipated my need, and was already offering one. "If you cannot tell me what you are dreaming, will you tell the counselor? I do not wish to wake her, but we must address this."

"'We?'" I asked after a sip of the cold, fizzy drink. "They're my dreams."

"That is true," he agreed. "But they are related to the incident with Lore, are they not?"

"Yeah," I said, trying not to sound grouchy, and failing. "Yeah, they are."

"Zoe… I cannot help if you do not talk to me."

And there it was. I needed to talk to him, and I was afraid to at the same time. On the other hand, later that day was the first orientation session for the new school year, and I wanted to be done with dreams and fear before classes started for real on Monday. "Acid," I said softly. "I dreamed he was kissing me and it tasted like acid. Acid and motor oil."

I sensed rather than saw the internal 'click' of information connecting inside his positronic brain. "I do not wish to distress you further," he said, "but when Lore kissed you the first time, do you remember the same… flavor?"

I closed my eyes, and thought about it. Images immediately started playing in my head. Lore holding my hip, Lore holding my chin. Lore kissing me in the tiny hotel room at Starbase 416. I fidgeted on the couch. I didn't want to remember these things, but I could tell Data was so close to a discovery, that I had to.

I felt tears leaking out of my closed eyes.

"The first time," I said. "I don't remember acid. Just the taste of alcohol, but I don't know if it was his or mine."

"And the second?"

I opened my eyes, and met Data's gaze. "Acid. And oil, as I said. Mostly acid." I reached for his hand, and he met mine half-way, clasping my fingers with just enough pressure to be supportive. "When I kissed your cheek… the stud got warm." I said. "Both times. I didn't think… I didn't want to think…"

"Zoe." His tone was firm, but not sharp. "It is… alright," he said.

No, it isn't, I protested silently. It isn't all right. It's all wrong. Because I'm pretty sure we have to kiss to get this thing out of my tongue, and I don't want to ruin our friendship.

"Is it?" I asked aloud. "Because if you're thinking what I am…"

"Right now," he said, "I am considering several different sealing compounds that could be delivered orally, and I will need to conduct some experiments to determine which are the most likely. Anything beyond that would be premature." His words were calm, rational, based in science.

I was a little jealous of that emotional neutrality.

I wished I could trust that he was right.

I finished the glass of ginger ale. "I should try to sleep some more," I said. "It would be really bad if I fall asleep in orientation today. My math tutor is kind of strict." I slid my hand out of his, and unfolded myself from the couch. But I had to ask, "How do I do it, Data? In class with you tomorrow? How do I sit there and pretend the stud in my tongue is just a stupid teenage thing and has nothing to do with psychotic siblings playing games?"

He rose from his seat and followed me. "Perhaps it is a 'good thing' that you spent a portion of your summer in theatre training," he suggested. "Perhaps you can consider it an acting exercise."

"And if I fail? If I say the wrong thing, or…?"

"Have faith in your own strength and abilities, Zoe. As I do."

Was it a good thing or a bad thing that such a sentiment coming from him seemed perfectly reasonable and normal? I reached to hug him briefly, found solace in the contact, and then slipped into his bedroom, leaving the door open about a quarter of the way. "I'll try," I said, knowing he'd hear me.

Do your kisses taste like acid? I didn't ask.

But at least there were no more nightmares that night.

(=A=)

Stardate 44680.59

(Wednesday, 6 September 2367, 10:00 hours, ship's time)

I was in my usual seat in the middle of the conference table, with Dana and Annette flanking me. Josh and a new boy from Akkalla, Rryl, had the seats farthest from me, and Data, as usual, was sitting directly across the table. Except for the change in company, it was the same configuration we'd had for this math tutorial all last school year.

It was the worst possible configuration for me on that day.

You can't exchange confidences with your math tutor in a dimly lit room and then act like nothing has changed when you show up for class. You can't sit across a table and discuss math problems as if nothing has happened, when the man leading the discussion was the same person who held your hair after you puked the night before, and then held you while you cried.

Or at least, I was finding it extremely difficult to do those things.

Data, on the other hand was… Data: apparently unaffected, unflappable, and unfazed.

Sometimes I envied him.

Fortunately, it was just an orientation day, and class was only thirty minutes, instead of the full two hours. Data went over the year's syllabus, ensured we'd all downloaded the textbook he'd selected, and assigned review homework to be completed by our first real class on Monday morning.

It wasn't the longest half-hour of my life, but at the time it felt that way. He dismissed us, and I began to leave with my friends but he called me back.

"Zoe, will you remain for a moment, please?"

I glanced at my friends, "See you at lunch, I guess?"

"We'll meet you at Ten-Forward," Annette promised. "Twelve-fifteen, like always."

"Make sure Rryl knows he's invited?" I said. Inclusion was a very big thing for me, and getting to know the new kid would be easier over lunch.

"We will," she said.

The door closed between us, leaving me alone with Data, who was waiting patiently for me to acknowledge him. "Okay," I said, turning back to him. "What horrible news do you have for me, now?"

"I do not believe my news would qualify as 'horrible.' I have identified several possible compounds that may work to unseal your… piercing. I will require your presence in order to test them."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Does it have to be now?"

"As you do not have another morning class, I assumed you would be available. If you are not…"

"I am…" I admitted, cutting him off.

"Then, if you wish to meet your friends for lunch, yes it must be now."

"Okay, so where are we doing this?"

"My laboratory."

I blinked at him. "You have your own laboratory? How did I not know you have a lab? Are you a mad scientist now?"

"I have always been a scientist, Zoe, but I do not believe I am 'mad.'" He waited a beat then asked, "Will you accompany me?"

"I don't really have a choice, do I? Lead me to your lair, Dr. Frankenstein."

We left the conference room together, as he said, "I believe I would be more analogous to Frankenstein's monster than the doctor himself."

"Naah. You're totally the wrong color, and don't have visible bolts at the base of your neck."

"Zoe…"

He led me into a turbolift, and down to one of the engineering decks, then out of it, and down a corridor, where he punched in a passcode faster than I could even watch.

"Just so you know, if any part of this involves me growing a hump, lisping, or calling you 'master,' I'm bailing." I said as the door opened. I looked around at consoles, worktables, and a couple of platforms enclosed in clear tubes large enough to hold a person standing upright. Realization dawned. "This is where you created Lal." It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"Are you ever going to try to… Fix her? Heal her? I don't even know what word to use…"

"The correct word would be 'repair,'" he said, coming to stand close to me in front of the platform. "I had considered attempting to do so, but I came to believe it would be a dishonor to her memory." I thought about asking what he'd done with her body, but doing so seemed both wrong and morbid. Data surprised me by placing a hand on my shoulder, and turning me to face him. "After Admiral Haftel left the Enterprise, the captain authorized a memorial service for her. Her body was placed in a photon torpedo tube and commissioned to the heart of a sun."

"I wasn't going to ask." I said.

"The increase in your pulse rate suggests that you are uncomfortable in this room. I wished to reassure you that you would not stumble across any stray… parts."

"Not so much uncomfortable as nervous, Data," I said. "Or… anxious…I guess. I mean, I know why we're here, and I'm kind of afraid it won't work."

"We will not know unless we try. Please have a seat. I will need to swab the stud in your mouth."

"You're supposed to tell me to open wide and say 'aahh,'" I teased, settling into one of the rolling chairs. "Be warned, I have a really over-active gag reflex."

"I will endeavor to keep that in mind."

An hour or so - and several swabs – later, we'd gotten nowhere. "Data, no offense, but, if you don't give me a break soon, I'm going to die of hunger and boredom and then it won't matter how you get this thing out of my tongue. You want me to come back here and resume lab-rat duties – I'll come without complaint – but I promised to meet my friends, and they're already worried about me."

"I have bridge duty until twenty-hundred hours," he said in response. "Thank you for your help, Zoe. I am sorry it was not more interesting for you, but you are not a lab-rat."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not exactly an active participant, either, Data. Anyway, it wasn't meant as criticism. I know you're doing everything you can, and I also know you're not the entertainment committee, okay? It would be better if you'd explain what you're doing as you're doing it, but when you get involved in something, you go into this quiet zone that's a really odd mix of compelling and eerie. Also, being in this room is kinda creeping me out."

I regretted the last sentence as soon as I uttered it.

"Is it because it reminds you of what I am? I am an android Zoe; that will always be true."

"I know what you are," I said. "Haven't we had this conversation before? It's not what you are that creeps me out. It's… I feel kind of the same way I did when you showed me the inside of your arm, last spring. It's too close. It's too…"

"Intimate?" he asked.

"Yeah," I answered sheepishly. "Knowing why you have this space, imagining what the creation of an android looks like. It's sort of like imagining you naked, but… not… but… " I cut myself off, and redirected the conversation. "Listen, do you mind if I go meet my friends now? And can we table the rest of this discussion until later tonight, at home?"

I blushed at my accidental reference to his quarters as home, but if he noticed, he said nothing. "You may go," he agreed.

"Am I supposed to meet you somewhere, or wait for you in my quarters or…?"

"I would prefer that you not be alone if you are in public spaces on the ship, and I do not believe your own quarters are safe as long as your piercing is still installed. Should you wish to return home –" I arched a brow at him and he amended his phrasing, "- to my quarters, the lock is programmed to recognize you."

"Since when?" I asked, and then I remembered a couple of nights before, when I'd returned from surfing and the door opened before he invited me in. "Oh," I said. "Never mind." I got out of the chair, and left the room, pausing at the door. "Hey, Data… will you have dinner with me, when you're off-duty?"

"I would be glad to, Zoe."

(=A=)

Lunch turned out to be less 'get to know the new kid,' and more 'grill Zoe on where she's been all week,' but I managed to vague it up enough to satisfy my friends as we laughed through plates of fish tacos and pitchers of iced tea.

"So, the thing is," I explained, "I kind of had a stalker in San Francisco, and it's got me a little freaked out. With my mother still off-ship, Data's been kind of keeping an eye on me. Well, Data and Counselor Troi. It's kind of like being grounded, in a way. I mean, my mother doesn't make me check in as often as Data does." I wasn't being entirely truthful, but I wasn't really lying either."

"Is this normal?" Rryl asked. "For teachers to socialize with students?"

"It's not not-normal," Josh said. "Especially with teachers like Data and the Prof, who volunteer their time."

"Data's more properly 'Lieutenant Commander Data,'" Annette explained. "He's the second officer of the ship."

"Yeah," Dana added, "And Zoe's his favorite."

"Guys, that's not true," I protested. "Rryl, Data's an android. He can't actually have favorites. We do spend a lot of time together, though, because he's also tutoring me in music theory and coaching me in technique."

"Technique," Josh teased, "ooh, Zoe, what kind of technique do you get coached in?"

I was sorely tempted to throw my taco at him, but it was so good to be eating crunchy food, that I gave him my very best glare instead. "Josh, dear, I will remember this the next time you need someone to proof an essay and Dana isn't around. You know perfectly well, he's only coaching me in cello."

"So, is that why you haven't been at home the last few days?" Dana asked. "We went by your place this morning, and no one answered."

"I've kind of had to do a lot of check-ins," I said. "And then Dr. Crusher has been supervising the aftercare for my piercing."

"Piercing?" I'd forgotten that Josh hadn't seen it yet. "What piercing. Zoe, did you get a navel ring?"

"Nope," I said. "Better." I took a swig of iced tea to make sure my mouth was relatively free of grossness, then stuck my tongue out at him.

Rryl also took a look. "On Akkalla," he said, "piercings like that are thought to enhance certain private activities between lovers."

I blushed, suddenly very glad Data was on bridge duty and nowhere near the lounge. "I'd never thought of that," I said. "For humans, it's more a fashion statement than anything else."

"I have this sudden image of the junior-year language and lit class getting assignment to write an essay on the history of body piercing in a chosen culture," Annette said. "I almost wish I was in your year, so I could read the results"

We all laughed, and then I turned to Rryl. "Akkalla's a water-world, isn't it?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "We do have landmasses, but they are mostly islands, and everyone lives a life connected to the ocean."

Josh and I glanced at each other, and then asked him in tandem, "So, do you surf?"

It turned out that he did.

(=A=)

While it was technically true that I wasn't scheduled for any classes that afternoon, I did make it a point to check in with Lt. Caldwell to see when – or if – we were resuming my voice lessons. She wasn't merely willing to continue coaching me, but rather, she was excited about it. We agreed on a schedule and a focus on performance and voice care – how to preserve your singing voice when you were doing multiple performances a week.

"I have a feeling this is stuff you're going to need to know, Zoe," she told me.

"Wow, I spend one summer doing arts camps and suddenly everyone thinks I'm going to be a star," I teased.

"Not a star, necessarily," she said. "But definitely a competent professional, if it's what you want." We were in one of the music rooms on the same 'rec deck' as the smallest holodeck. It, too, was fitted with holographic emitters, but only so that the user of the space could specify the available instruments or technology. That day, it was a piano with a bench, a stool, and, in the corner, a comfortable couch, which is where we were sitting.

"I wish I knew what I wanted," I said. "All my life I thought I was going to just do music, go to the Martian like my father, and make a career as a classical musician. This last year, things have been changing."

"That's very normal, Zoe, even for people as focused as you have been."

"You could have had a career," I pointed out. "You had a successful start as a child performer. What made you give up that life and choose Starfleet instead?"

"I've always loved science, and I've always wanted to be an explorer," she said. "I realized that I didn't want to be one of those touring musicians who only ever sees the insides of hotel rooms between gigs, and…Starfleet also gave me a sense of family." She paused. "The life of a performer is a hard one, Zoe. You're always auditioning for the next thing, competing for every job you get. There's competition out here in space, too, but it's not the same."

"That makes sense, I guess." I said.

"You're not considering applying to the Academy?" Like every other officer, she pronounced it with a capital 'a.'

"What? Me? Perish the thought," I said. "No, I'm…I'm just…gathering information." I got up to leave. "Thanks for the talk, I'll see you Monday afternoon."

She walked me to the door, "Anytime you want to meet, just comm me," she said. "And Zoe…don't you think it's time you used my first name?"

"Sure," I said. "Thanks, Jessie."

Her laughter was musical, of course, bubbling out of her like a pitch-perfect waterfall of sound.

(=A=)

I left the studio, unsure of what to do next. Annette was meeting with the head of the ship's school to ensure that she was still on track for graduating in the spring. Josh and Dana did have an afternoon orientation. Rryl was watching his younger sister for a couple of hours, and anyway, I barely knew him. I felt betwixt and between, and a little paranoid. Data had said I shouldn't be alone, but my usual haunts – the aquatics lab, the observation lounge where I used to have music lessons with Seth, the ship's library – weren't at all appealing.

I rounded a curve, stepped into a turbolift, and ran into Guinan. "You look like a young woman with a dilemma," she said.

"More than one," I agreed. "Some more immediate than others."

"Well," she said, "I was about to go back to my cabin to have a cup of tea. I think the company of a person such as yourself might enhance the experience. Would you like to join me?"

Tea with Guinan? Definitely. "Yes," I said. "Thank you."

She told the turbolift to resume its journey, and we got out on another part of deck ten, walked a significant way down the corridor, and then stopped at her door. "Welcome, Zoe," she said as we entered.

I'm not sure what I was expecting, but Guinan's space felt like stepping into a warm embrace. Candles were glowing everywhere. It crossed my mind to wonder how she got away with leaving them lit, but it didn't seem terribly important. Instead of a couch she had a pair of papa-san chairs, and the doorway to the bedroom was hidden behind a folding screen. "Wow," I said.

"Do you like my home?" the enigmatic older woman asked.

"I had no idea you could make a starship cabin look so… unstarshippy." I said. "It's amazing."

"Thank you. Have a seat." She gestured to one of the two chairs near the window, and I folded myself into one of them. "You look like an herbal tea sort of person. Mint, I think?"

"Am I that obvious, or do you track orders in Ten-Forward?"

"Mint is a stimulant, and you don't like to feel bored or useless. It makes sense."

"I guess."

"I see you still have your piercing." She was prepping cups and boiling water on a hot-pad while she spoke. "Your mother will be home in two days, won't she?"

"I do," I confirmed, "and she will. Data and I spent a good chunk of the morning trying different compounds to unseal it." I could feel her dark eyes on me. "Well, Data was trying different compounds. I was pretty much just his lab-rat. Although… watching him work when he's really focused on a puzzle? That was sort of intense."

"You're good for him," was Guinan's response.

"Am I?" I said. "Sometimes it feels like we have this deep connection that defies time and space, and sometimes it's like I'm just one more task he has to complete."

"No," she said. "You're not a task."

"No," I agreed. "I guess you're right. But I'm not anything else either. I'm just his student." I imbued the word 'student' with all the frustration I felt at the whole situation with Lore, with the thing in my mouth.

"I'm pretty sure Data doesn't think you're 'just' anything. Just like I'm pretty sure you don't see him as 'just' an android."

"He isn't. He never has been. He's… himself."

"Does he know that you love him?"

Trust Guinan to ask me that, point blank. I fumbled for an answer, finally allowing, "I might have a crush on him, but, that's all. Anyway, even that doesn't matter. There's too much in the way. And job-one is getting this out of my tongue."

She shook her head. "No. You definitely love him. Here, drink this."

She pressed a mug into my hands, and I took it, and sipped carefully. "This isn't mint," I said. "I mean…" and I had another sip, "…it's got mint in it. But also… carob, I think. And maybe cocoa?"

"You've got a discerning palate. It's a children's tea, but I think it's important for adults to drink it from time to time."

"It's really good," I said. I waited a beat, watched her settle into the chair opposite mine. "It doesn't matter if I love him or not. Or it won't."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, first, he doesn't have feelings… and second… I'm pretty sure that in order to get this out, we're going to have to cross a line in teacher-student behavior that will ruin everything."

"You mean, you have to kiss."

I stared at her. "How did you know?"

"I know a lot about a few things, and a little about many," was her cryptic response. "I know you don't really believe that Data has no feelings whatsoever. I know, as you do, Zoe, that Data's emotions are subtle, but very much present, if you know how to look. If you take the time to see him, as you have."

"I'm still learning to see him," I said.

"Exactly, you're a student. So is he."

"Data is?"

"The best of us never stop being students," she said. "Data is a student of the human condition."

"Yeah, but there are students and… students." I said.

"True enough. But the choice of which one you are is yours."

"Is this supposed to be helping?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

"I guess…" I said slowly, putting my thoughts in careful order. "I guess it is. I mean… yeah, I love him. It's not romantic love, exactly. It's… it's like he's family, but soul-deep. And maybe one day, it could be more."

"I suspect it will be."

"Everyone keeps telling me that. Do you all tell him the same thing?"

"I don't know about 'everyone.' I only know about me. I tell him the same thing: that you and he are good for each other, that you and he are connected, and that you both have to learn to trust that connection."

"Does he know… what we really have to do?"

"Do you think he does?"

"I think he's trying to protect me, as much as he can. I think he's as uncertain as I am, about what happens when we…" I made a gesture. I couldn't say the words when we inevitably kiss.

"I agree."

I drank more of the tea, becoming more and more certain there was some secret ingredient I wasn't able to identify. It was really good tea, though.

"Guinan, how do you know that we have to kiss?" I asked. "I mean… how did you figure it out?"

She canted her head slightly to one side in a gesture reminiscent of the man we'd been discussing. "It wouldn't have been put in your mouth, otherwise," she said.

"I'm afraid of losing my friend," I told her. "I'm afraid it will ruin what we already have, and close the door on… more."

"Don't be. Trust Data. Trust yourself." For a moment, it was as though she were listening to the universe. I'm pretty sure it was speaking to her. "You're going to go through a period of disconnect," she said. "But it won't be complete and it won't be permanent." Her eyes refocused on me. "Drink up," she said. "I have a feeling you've got a very busy evening ahead of you."

I drained the mug. We talked for a few minutes longer, about my summer, mostly, and then she politely shooed me away.

"Thank you for the tea," I said. "And the conversation."

"You're welcome," she said.

I got the feeling she meant it in many more ways than I was capable of even counting.

(=A=)

When I returned to Data's quarters, I found a message tag with the reminder that he'd be home at twenty-hundred hours, and a request to feed Spot at eighteen-thirty if I was back by then. I didn't have homework – except math, which I wasn't ready to face – and I was feeling anxious and tired.

What I really needed was a nap.

A nap and a shower.

Crawling into Data's bed when he wasn't there felt a little like taking a liberty I hadn't earned, but since he'd requested that I not go home alone, and since the couch just wasn't that comfortable, I set an alarm, and wrapped myself in the quilt I'd brought with me from my own room.

I didn't have nightmares, but Guinan's advice and Lore's taunts circled in my brain, forming patterns and clues, and when I woke up two hours later to Spot purring near my ear, I was certain of two things: a kiss was what Lore had planned all along, and Spot was never going to leave my hair alone.

(=A=)

Showered (with dry hair thanks to the hair dryer I'd found waiting in the bathroom) dressed in fresh jeans and a blouse rather than a t-shirt, I set Data's table for dinner. Nothing fancy: a casserole of zucchini, cashews and a yogurt sauce that was a favorite of my mother's, and had been added to the vast collection of replicator fare available on the Enterprise. It was comfort-food, but not kid-food.

I didn't light candles, but I did have the lights slightly dimmed when Data arrived from his shift on the bridge, though I didn't hear him enter because I was curled up on the couch with music playing into headphones as I did my best to escape into a novel – an historical epic that took place partly during the French revolution and partly about three hundred years later, and involved a search for some mystical chess board. I would probably have enjoyed it more if I actually played chess, but the characters were interesting.

His hand on my shoulder shook me from my reading. "Oh," I said, stopping the music and pulling the headphones out of my ears. "Hi, Data. Dinner's ready when you are. It's a family recipe." I set a bookmark to save my place and switched off my padd. "I fed Spot, but I didn't clean her litter box because I wasn't sure where to… put stuff."

"I will take care of it later," he said. "Are you ready to eat?" He seemed oddly stiff, even for him.

"Sure," I said. I stood up and slid my feet into my shoes, but I didn't move toward the table. Instead, I reached out and touched his arm. "Are you okay?" I asked. "Did I do something wrong?"

"You did not." He glanced at my hand on his arm, and I saw him note the presence of my bracelet. "You may be interested to know that a representative of the Keep Earth Human League confirmed that the organization contracted with a third party to set and detonate the bombs at Starbase Twelve," he said.

"Are you supposed to be telling me this?"

"It will be on all the news nets in the next day or so."

"Is Lore the one they hired? Because you have to admit, there's some delicious irony in an android setting a bomb on behalf of an organization that wants to make Earth a humans-only club."

"That part of the investigation is not yet closed."

"Oh." I felt antsy and unsettled. I wondered if he could tell.

"Zoe, you seem agitated this evening. What can I do to help you?"

"A slug of whiskey wouldn't hurt," I said, causing him to look sharply at me. "Or, failing that, any kind of decent vodka. Not the kind that's infused with flavors, though. Those are too weird." I was kidding. Mostly.

"Is there some reason you require an alcoholic beverage?"

"It would be relaxing," I said. "I guess I'm 'agitated' because I know that no matter how many compounds you tested this morning, and no matter how many more you test tonight, there's only one way we're getting this stud out of my mouth."

"That is not certain," he corrected me. "It is possible that I may find another solution. Dr. Crusher could also surgically remove the…" He trailed off in response to the look I was giving him. "That is not my preferred option."

"Data, the stud got warm when I kissed your cheek. It got warm when you kissed the top of my head. Nothing you stuck in my mouth on the end of a cotton swab did anything this morning, and I'm pretty sure at least some of those swabs had more than a trace of your saliva on them – thanks for not telling me, by the way - I know you've probably got a gazillion other things to try, but all the clues are there. I've been going over and over it in my head, and I had a very helpful conversation with Guinan earlier, and she agrees."

"With Guinan?" his expression was both interested and intense.

I nodded, then repeated, "Everything he said, everything he did. He said he had the first and second taste. He said to make sure you removed it. He referenced that conversation about intimacy on purpose. And Guinan said he wouldn't have put it where he did if we weren't supposed to…" I trailed off, embarrassed.

"Kiss," he said.

"Yeah."

"I had reached the same conclusion," he admitted.

"When?"

"Approximately seventeen point six seconds after you told me everything that had happened." Only an android would consider time down to the decimal an approximation.

"You might have told me."

"I did not wish to make you uncomfortable."

"Data, there are a lot of things about this whole situation that have made me uncomfortable. Trust me, the thought of kissing you doesn't even make the top fifty."

"I am not entirely certain it will work, Zoe. I am certain that there must be another way."

I thought about pushing the issue, but I was sure it would only make things more awkward between us. "Fine," I said. "You're in charge. Can we eat now?"

He seemed taken aback by my sudden change in mood and topic. "That would be acceptable."

We had a tacit understanding that dinner conversation would be restricted to light topics. I told him about my meeting with Lt. Caldwell and our plan for my voice lessons for the next year.

"I have never heard you sing," he observed. "Other than the occasional line or two when you are attempting to tease me."

"Or when I was in the shower the other day," I corrected him.

"Were you not attempting to tease me, then?"

I snorted. "Hardly. I was just relaxed and the song was stuck in my head. And, Data, when I tease you – and it's not 'attempting;' I really am teasing you - there's no doubt of what I'm doing. You don't react every often, though." I took a beat and returned to the original topic. "Anyway, you knew I was taking lessons; I just assumed you weren't interested. Next time you're desperate for entertainment, just ask." I lowered my eyes to my plate, adding softly. "It's only fair; you've sung for me."

"I will do so."

We finished our meal and while he returned the dishes to the replicator I went to brush my teeth and rinse my mouth. He was on the couch when I returned to the main room. "You're not working tonight?"

"I assumed you would prefer to watch something before bed. I will work afterward."

"I don't like that I'm keeping you from your normal schedule."

"You are not," he said. "However, tonight it is my turn to 'pick the movie.'"

I laughed, and went to join him on the couch. "So, what are we seeing tonight?"

He had selected a vintage – mid twentieth century - film called Casablanca. "Captain Picard recommended this to me several years ago," he explained. "He said it was something one should watch 'with a friend.'"

We skipped tea that night. Halfway through the story, I stopped paying attention to the actors on the screen and started watching Data, at the way his eyes widened ever so slightly from time to time, and at the way he leaned forward a little bit during key parts of the plot. When it was over, just before midnight, I got up, intending to go to bed, but he was right behind me.

"Zoe," he began, and then stopped.

I turned to face him, and my breath caught as I realized just how close he was standing. Do your kisses taste like acid? I didn't ask. What I said was, "I have to know."

He opened his mouth to say something, probably to ask what I was talking about, and I took advantage of that brief hesitation, put my hands on his shoulders, and kissed him.

I expected him to push me away.

He didn't.

I expected a flood of bitter acid.

It never came. Instead I tasted faint sweetness and a hint of cashew.

There was a split-second delay and then his mouth moved against mine.

I felt his hand go to my waist, felt the gentle pressure that could have pushed or pulled, but instead just rested there, making contact.

There was a burst of heat inside my mouth, and then a sort of click that I felt more than heard. The ball at the bottom of the barbell in my tongue released. I backed away, put my hands to my mouth, and pulled the stud out. Data was staring at me, but not saying anything.

Inexplicably, I started to cry, but I handed him the stud before I completely lost control. "Data, I'm sorry," I said. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry." I pressed his fingers closed around the cylinder of metal.

I heard him call my name, heard him tell me to wait, but all I could think was that I had to get out of there. I turned on my heel and ran out of his quarters, and toward the closest bank of turbo-lifts. A car arrived just as I did, and I got in, giving the deck number for the aquatics lab.

The cool blue-lit space was empty, save for the various animals in their tanks. I found the bench that had been placed in front of the Artridian grace sharks and collapsed onto it. As the shadowy lace-finned fish swam circles in their glass enclosure, I let my tears fall freely.

Notes: Jessie Caldwell isn't a canon character, but she's mentioned a couple of times in "Crush." My version of Guinan's quarters is based partly on the couple of times we glimpse them on-screen, and partly on my own notion of what her taste might be. Rryl's homeworld, Akkalla is from the TOS novel Deep Domain by Howard Weinstein. Special thanks to Javanyet for help given months ago with a specific part of this chapter. (Revised, 10 November 2016)