Grave

Grave (adj): having a serious and dignified quality or demeanor, low-pitched in sound.

Stardate 45233.64

(Tuesday, 26 March 2368, 12:22 hours, ship's time)

"Do you still want to hit things?" Counselor Troi asked me. We were sitting in her office, and I was sipping cinnamon spice tea while she was indulging in hot chocolate. We'd only been talking for twenty or so minutes.

"I've been hitting things," I said.

"Oh? The only holodeck time I've seen under your ID is when you and your friends were playing pirates the other day."

Sunday afternoon, Josh had decided that we all needed some silly fun, and even though it meant cutting my weekend with Data short by a few hours, I'd ultimately agreed. We'd even managed to convince the computer that you really could slide down a sail using a cutlass. At least, in a simulation.

"I've been dancing with Data as well," I protested, good-naturedly. "But actually, the hitting-things has been real." At her alarmed expression I quickly added. "In the gym. A punching bag."

"You've taken up boxing?" She seemed surprised. And amused. I suppose I would have been as well.

"Two weeks ago, I was in the gym on my way to the Pilates studio and there was a punching bag in one of the rooms. No one seemed to be using it, so I went in and started hitting it – it was oddly satisfying – and in the middle the –" I hesitated. I wasn't sure if Captain Picard had told her he'd been boxing with me, and I didn't want to 'out' him if he hadn't. I kind of liked that I had this little secret. "- the person who had reserved the room arrived and stopped me before I could hurt myself. Then he got me some gloves and gave me some pointers. I kind of had a meltdown at the end, but he was surprisingly supportive."

"Is he anyone I know?" she asked.

"Don't you know pretty much everyone on the ship?" I countered, evading her question.

"You don't want to tell me?" She was definitely amused that time.

"I… not really." I admitted. "But I will say that Data knows who he is and approves."

The counselor stared at me for several seconds. "Alright," she said, smiling. "I'm just glad you've found an outlet. How are things, otherwise?"

My good mood deflated a bit. "Okay, I guess. I mean… I'm back in school full-time, and I haven't had a nightmare in a week, but I still get jumpy if I walk into a dark room, and while I haven't had another full-blown meltdown like the one in sickbay a couple weeks ago – you know when I mean?" The counselor hadn't been present when pressing Data's power-switch had made me flash back.

"Beverly told me, yes," she confirmed.

"But there's little things… Data and I were dancing, and I panicked for a few seconds when he was… when he was standing over me. And the smell of the showers at the pool – the cleaning agent? – I had to take about seventy-five calming breaths before I could use the facility. But… I'm managing."

"Data's still providing the support you need."

"He is, but…" I cut myself off. "Never mind."

"No, Zoe. Tell me." She set her mug aside, but I kept mine cradled in both hands.

"He keeps telling me, every time I apologize for a nightmare, or a meltdown, or… he keeps telling me it is 'part of his role as my boyfriend and lover,' and to me that means he sees it as his job, and I don't want to be an obligation."

"I think you're misconstruing what Data means," she said. "I'm certain he views you as his partner. He's said as much during poker games."

"He talks about me during poker games?" I wasn't sure if I was flattered or disturbed by that.

Her gaze sharpened, her focus on me increased. "Why does that distress you?"

I had to think about it. "I don't know." I laughed, but it was a short, hollow sound. "I mean, I really don't know. We're dating. We spend huge amounts of time together. He should be talking about me, I guess."

"You don't talk about him?"

"Who would I possibly talk about him with?" I asked. "My friends pretty much agree that we belong together, but they see him as Data our math tutor at best and Commander Data, second officer, otherwise. My mother reports to him, so I try to limit what I say, and anyway, she's planning her wedding. Sometimes I talk to Annette – she's a year ahead of the rest of us – and she gets it."

"Do you think your isolation from your peer group is causing your worry that Data sees you as an obligation?"

I took a moment to analyze before I answered. "Maybe. I mean… we all still hang out together playing board games or playing on the holodeck, but I feel like… I feel like I'm also playing at still being the Zoe they're used to."

The counselor left her chair and came to sit with me on the couch. I was past needing a warning when she was going to touch me, but she moved with evident caution, even so, as she put a friendly arm around my shoulder. "In many ways," she said softly, "you're not 'the Zoe they're used to.' You went through a traumatic experience, and no matter how resilient you are, that affects you. It changes you."

"I feel like it aged me."

"Emotionally, it did."

I let out a sigh. "So, what do I do? I'm not jumping every time someone touches me, but I feel like… like I'm not quite big enough anymore to fill my own skin. Diminished. I feel… diminished." In my head I heard the combined tones that formed a diminished triad. Way to be literal brain-of-mine. Maybe Data was rubbing off on me. "When do I get to feel like me again?"

"Do you want the truth, or the lie that might make you feel better?" She was teasing, I knew, to elicit a smile, and it worked.

"Truth, always. Even if it's grim."

"It isn't a question of feeling like yourself again, as much as it is of redefining what 'yourself' means. Do you understand?"

"I'm never going to be the way I was before," I said. "So, I have to figure out what my new 'normal' is?"

"Yes, Zoe, exactly. Do you think you're ready to make that our focus?"

I nodded. "I think I'm ready to try."

She used the arm she'd draped over my shoulder to pull me into more of a friendly hug, then released me and returned to her own chair. "I think we've covered enough for today. Is there anything else you'd like to bring up?"

I started to shake my head, but then I remembered that there was something. "Actually, I could use a favor. I went into sickbay last week because in all the… because with everything else going on, I never had my birth control shot updated, and while it's not like I have to worry about pregnancy with Data, it makes everything else… It's convenient not having cramps and not dealing with all the, well, you know." I could see her trying not to laugh. "It was while I was in there that Dr. Crusher deactivated Data, and I'm still a little upset with her about that. Could you help me go directly to Nurse Ogawa or Dr. Selar?"

"You know she was under the influence of that game," the counselor reminded me gently. "But yes, I know exactly what you mean, and if you like I'll walk you down there right now."

"I'd really appreciate it. Thank you."

(=A=)

Dr. Selar was both on duty and available when Counselor Troi walked me into sickbay. She went to see Dr. Crusher – the two were good friends after all – and left me with the Vulcan doctor, who ushered me into one of the private parts of the medical facility.

I had to endure a pelvic exam, but the doctor was both warm (for a Vulcan) and witty – Vulcans who aren't strict practitioners of C'Thia can be surprisingly adept at sarcasm – and I was on my way out the door within forty minutes.

Dr. Crusher was out of her office by then, conferring with Captain Picard and Data about something. I heard her mention skin colors and pigment tests and tease the captain about one of his eyes being slightly higher than the other.

I also heard her ask Data if his ears were removable and caught his response that they were not¸ which made me grin, but also made me curious. Why would they need to be removed at all? I was fairly certain I wasn't destined to know anytime soon since it was Data's poker night, and the likelihood of catching him alone to even ask him was pretty slim, but then I heard the word 'Romulan,' and my idle curiosity wasn't so much idle anymore.

I must have reacted in some obvious way, because I saw Data give a flicker of a reaction, but I had less than an hour to eat lunch and get to my afternoon class – and Sokel was almost as finicky as a certain android I was in love with when it came to punctuality.

(=A=)

Stardate 45234.99

(Wednesday, 27 March 2368, 00:11 hours, ship's time)

By the time I'd met Mom and Ed for dinner at home, the Enterprise was headed to Vulcan. Data, as far as I knew, was at his poker game, and we had no plans to meet afterward, so it surprised me when our door-chime was activated a little after midnight, and he appeared in response to my mother's invitation to enter.

"Zoe." He said my name in a brighter tone than he typically used for others. "Emily," he greeted my mother, in his normal voice, using her given name so she'd know it wasn't an official visit. "I apologize for the lateness of the hour. I realize that it is a school night, but I must speak with Zoe, and the conversation may take us beyond her curfew."

I knew he was asking my mother's permission for the same reason I was even sticking to the curfew we'd agreed upon. True, I was technically emancipated, but we all knew that was a legal measure, not due to a family disagreement. Maintaining a good relationship with my mother was in all our best interests.

My mother's face wasn't quite blank; there were faint worry lines around her eyes. She was forcing herself not to react. She was silent for a long moment and then she sighed softly. "You wouldn't be asking for her at this hour if it wasn't important," she said. "I'll see you sometime tomorrow, yes?"

"Of course, Mom. Dinner, if nothing else." I was teasing her a little.

She gave me a grin that was two parts good humor and one part rueful, and left the couch where we'd been sitting, watching a silly romantic comedy on the video system, pausing to ruffle my hair on the way. "Sometimes," she said, "I miss the days when you were seven, and still thought boys were gross. G'night, kiddo."

"'Night, Mom," I said, waiting for Data to bid my mother goodnight, as well, before I asked him if I should bring a change of clothes.

"That would be prudent," he said.

It is never good when your android boyfriend uses the word 'prudent.'

(=A=)

I set my mug of mint tea down on the coffee table with a pointed thump. Data looked from the mug to my face and observed, "You are angry with me."

"Yeah, I am," I agreed. "I can't believe you felt you had to ask me that."

"As I stated, Zoe, the captain asked me to ascertain how much you had heard in sickbay, and whether or not you would share what you learned."

"I know what you said," I shot back at him. "And you should have been able to assure him that even if I'd been able to make sense of what I heard – and saw - I wouldn't have done anything with that knowledge. I understand that some things aren't meant for public consumption. I'm not stupid and I'm not entirely clueless."

"I do not think you are stupid," came his quiet response, and I sharpened my focus, searching his face. It bothered him when I said things like that…I wanted to know why, but that was another conversation entirely. "I was merely doing what Captain Picard asked of me."

"Yes, I understand that, but you still could have just told him that you trust me. God, Data, the very first time we had tea on this couch you gave me one of your biggest secrets ever."

"It was not this couch."

"What?"

"The conversation you refer to did not take place on this couch; it was on my original couch."

"Not really the point," I said.

"No," he agreed. "It is not."

"I would never gossip about something I saw," I told him softly. "Or heard. Ever. The stuff today… if you hadn't basically implied you don't trust me, I would have just quietly asked you about it, in private."

"I did not intentionally imply anything of the kind," he countered. "I do trust you. Had I anticipated your reaction, I would have handled this conversation differently."

I could feel myself bristling. "But you still would have asked."

"Yes."

"Even though you knew - even though you know – the answer?"

Something changed in his face, then. His expression… it didn't flatten, exactly, but he seemed suddenly younger. More innocent. "My core programming," he began, "includes the requirement that I accede to reasonable requests made by a superior officer. Captain Picard's request did not seem unreasonable; therefore I had to comply."

Had to… His words rang in my head, and suddenly his expression made sense. He wasn't afraid, exactly, but he was as close to it as he could come, and the reason was… me. He wasn't sure of my reaction to hearing about his programming. I was reeling… devastated that he would think I'd balk, hurt on his behalf for the comments and slights he must have endured when he was…new. Just like that, my anger, which had already begun to fade, was completely gone.

I moved across the couch, out of the corner I'd been curled in, and up against the familiar lines of his body. "I'd like you to tell me more about your core programming, Data, if you're willing. Not tonight, but soon. Will you?"

"As part of your need to know how I…work?" Data used my words, but his tone was all his own. He lifted his arm, obviously intending to wrap it around me, but paused. "Are you no longer angry with me?" he asked somewhat warily.

"No more anger," I said, and leaned up to kiss him. "I'm sorry I over-reacted. The reason I was in sickbay was because in all the aftermath of Melona, I missed a birth control booster. I tried to get it last week, but everyone was a bit…distracted. I had a session with Counselor Troi right before that. So, not only am I a little hormonal, but all my emotions are running closer to the surface than usual."

His arm found its resting place, and he pulled me slightly closer and nuzzled my hair. "I apologize for angering you." I wrapped my arm around his middle and savored the contact for a minute or so before I laughed softly. "Zoe, what is amusing you?"

"Us." I said. "We just survived our first fight as a couple." And I didn't run away, I added to myself. I didn't even consider it.

"Ah, the 'lovers' quarrel,' a time-honored tradition."

I laughed again. "Something like that." Another time, I would have made a joke about how make-up sex was the logical next step, but something else, something more immediate, occurred to me. "You're going away." It wasn't a question.

"Very soon, yes."

"You don't know when, exactly?"

"I am afraid not. It is dependent upon the length of our visit to Vulcan, and the results of that visit."

"Should you be telling me this?"

"I have told you nothing specific to the mission. You are already aware of the ship's current destination."

"True." I paused for a moment, concentrating on worming my hand between his uniform jacket and t-shirt, and his skin. "I've never been to Vulcan."

"I do not believe there will be time for you to visit on this trip. If that changes, I will let you know. However, it is a frequent stopover, and I would be happy to escort you the next time the Enterprise is 'in the neighborhood.'"

"You know I'm going to hold you to that."

"I expect no less."

"Me either."

I adjusted my position on the couch, snuggling closer to him, splaying my hand across his midsection, under his clothes, feeling the warmth of his skin, and the steady pulsing thrum of his internal systems.

(=A=)

Hours later, unable to sleep, I was lying on my side in Data's bed, one hand wandering idly over his chest and abdomen, as if my fingers could remember the different textures – hairless and perfectly smooth, except for his nipples, until I reached the fine, dark-gold hair that extended from his navel downward.

Data was being passive, allowing my explorations. I'm not sure if he recognized that contact relaxed me, or if he was merely curious to find out what I would do. When I brushed my fingers against his nipple again, his breath hitched. I repeated the action, and he repeated that tiny little almost-gasp. That he managed to remain focused on whatever information was flowing through the optical cable linking him to the ship's computer was both impressive and frustrating.

Intrigued, I replaced my fingers with my mouth, first licking then sucking.

I felt his hand move to my hair, and stroke through it. "Zoe…"

"I'm sorry; have I distracted you?" I asked, feigning innocence. In a more normal voice, I added. "I can't sleep, thinking about you going on a mission. I know you go all the time. I could probably list every time you've been off the ship since I met you. But now everything's… different."

There was a soft click as he removed the cable. A subtle sound of his scalp panel sliding back into place. If I had run my fingers through his hair just then, I would have never known half his head had just been exposed to the air. "You have, but it is not an unwelcome distraction." Data caught my hand, twining his fingers with mine, and then bringing our clasped hands to his lips. He kissed the back of my hand, and our gazes locked. "The nature of my duty to the ship has not changed," he said softly, his eyes never wavering from mine. "However, I recognize that I also have a duty to you. I will always return to you if I am able, Zoe. You may accept that as a 'given.'"

"I know," I said. "I know you will. But I'm still going to worry. In the meantime, I plan to memorize every centimeter of you."

"With your fingers?"

"Mmhmm. Fingers, eyes, lips, tongue…" I shifted my position, lying half on top of him so I could reach his other nipple, and gave it the same attention I'd given the first. Again, his breathing changed.

"If you are going to do that you must allow me to reciprocate," he said softly. "May I?" His question was meant to make me feel safe, I knew, but for some reason it only served as a reminder of why he kept asking every time contact was about to happen. I nodded and sat up so I could unbutton the pajama top I was wearing, but he sat up, as well, turning toward me. Gently, he moved my hands away. "Let me."

As he drew the blue cotton away from my body, I wondered how much control he had to exert to ensure that nothing ripped, how much care he had to put into every caress. I suspected it was a constant balancing act. I wasn't ready to ask for that level of detail. When Data's lips met mine, I put my questions aside. When he trailed kisses down my throat, they went completely from my mind.

My hands landed on his shoulders, first just resting then gripping as he dipped his head to capture my breast in his mouth, laving my nipple with his tongue. He had kissed my breasts before, but that had been a ritual, a re-claiming. This was… not. He sucked gently and I gasped.

Data's right hand cupped my other breast, my left one, while his left was at my back. He rolled my nipple between two of his long, elegant fingers. I loved his fingers. Loved the way his hands felt on my skin. He lifted his head away from my right breast, and I used that moment to kiss him, to reposition my hands, and uncurl my legs, to push backward against the arm that was holding me.

He supported me, helping me lie back against the pillows, but holding his body slightly away from mine. I slid my left hand away from his shoulder, caressing his chest and then lifting it to his face. Ours eyes met again, and then he turned his head to kiss my palm, before allowing me to guide his head back to my left breast.

His breath was warm against my skin. His lips closed around my right nipple. His tongue teased it. I shivered, and ran my hands through his hair, breathing his name, "Data…"

I felt his teeth on my nipple. It felt good, and then everything shifted, and I was back on that cold, empty ship with… him.

I had the first taste, Lore's words, the words that were pounding into my brain when he had bitten me and made me bleed, came to me unbidden. Pigeon's gonna get plucked.

"Don't." I hadn't meant to say it out loud. In my head I was saying it to Lore.

"Zoe?" Dimly, I recognized that Data had released me, that he was pulling away. "Did I hurt you? I believed I had calculated an acceptable amount of pressure." Later, replaying that night in my memory, I would realize that he'd sounded… stricken.

Pigeon's gonna get pounded.

"No," I said, meaning that he hadn't. I sat up, moving toward him, but in my head, I was also still with Lore. "No," I said again. "Don't. Stop. Please, don't." I felt tears forming, and squeezed my eyes shut, but that just made the memory of Lore loom larger.

I lashed out with my right hand, felt Data stop my punch with his open palm. "Zoe, stop. Zoe, you are having a flashback."

"NO!"

I struck with my other hand, and he didn't stop me in time. I felt the impact against his chest, felt the sting of pain in my fingers.

"Zoe, open your eyes. Zoe, I am Data. You are having a flashback, but you are safe. Please trust me. I will not harm you."

I'd never heard him plead before, and the sound of it, the obvious anguish in his voice, brought me back to the here-and-now. I opened my eyes, and his face, his gold-leaf complexion and eyes like suns, were all I could see. "Data…"

"You are safe," he repeated. "I did not mean to hurt –"

"You didn't." I cut him off. "It was… he bit me. Your teeth triggered the memory, but you didn't hurt me. You didn't do anything wrong. You didn't know. I didn't know." My left hand was still stinging. "I hit you." I said, realizing. "Oh, god, I hit you. Wait… how did I hit you?"

"I was not anticipating a second punch," he said. "Apparently your boxing lessons with the captain are… quite effective."

I was still teary, but I laughed a little, even so. "Apparently." I took several ragged breaths and then added, "I'm sorry."

"It is alright."

"No, Data, it's not. I liked what you were doing. I didn't want it to stop. I wanted…" I trailed off, anger welling up in me again. "It's not fair," I said. "I'm trying so hard and seeing Counselor Troi as often as everyone thinks I should, and just when I think he's out of my head, he isn't. God, I can't even…" I gulped air. "I can't even make love with the man I love, and it's not fucking fair."

For the first time in weeks, Data gathered me into his arms without asking me first. He kissed the top of my head, and whispered, "My Zoe." For a long while, I thought that was all he had to say, but after a few minutes, he spoke again. "You are correct; it is not fair. I would undo what Lore did to you if I could, but I cannot. We must, therefore, play the hand we have been dealt."

The oblique poker reference made me smile a little, but the rest of his words… "'We?'" I asked him. "The hand 'we' have been dealt?"

"We have spoken of what the future may hold," he reminded me gently. "If that future is to come to fruition, then yes, we are 'in this together.' I am devoted to you."

"I think I'm just beginning to truly understand what that means."

"I know," he responded, "that it is very late, and that these flashbacks exhaust you. Please allow me to examine your hand; it may require medical attention." He raised the level of the light in the bedroom, and gently probed the hand I'd punched him with. "Are you able to bend your fingers?"

I tried and found that I could. "They're a little sore," I said, "and a little tingly, but if you can replicate a light pain killer, I'm pretty sure I'll be fine in a few hours."

"I concur."

A few minutes later, my hand was much improved, the room was once again soothingly dark, and we were back in bed, and wrapped around each other "Data… promise me we'll try again when you get back from your mission?"

"We were not in a race when our relationship shifted last fall. We are not in a race now. We will 'try again' when you are ready."

I closed my eyes, and started to drift toward sleep, secure in his solid presence. But there was one more thing I had to say before I could really let go. "I love you."

He acknowledged my words with another nuzzling kiss to the top of my head.

(=A=)

Stardate 45242.06

(Friday, 29 March 2368, 14:16 hours, ship's time)

It was always ominous when one of us was pulled out of class. Most of the time, such an action meant that one of our parents had been injured on a mission. When I was called away from my Friday afternoon literature class, however, I knew it was because Data's away mission, the one that involved some kind of covert operation and costumes, had moved from imminent to immediate.

Ed flashed a sympathetic look my way and sent me off to answer the call.

Data was waiting for me in the hallway, and even though he would have looked the way he always did, at least to the casual observer, I was adept, by then, at seeing the subtle changes in the way he held himself, in the way his usual placid expression held a hint of gravity.

"You're leaving." It wasn't a question. I didn't need to ask.

"In one hour. I have already packed, but I did not wish to leave without seeing you."

"Thank you for that. I know you're not used to having to…"

"I believe it will be quite easy to become used to it, Zoe."

I nodded. "I suppose you'd like me to take care of Spot?" I was teasing him. I knew there was no question about who would care for the cat.

"She is most comfortable with you. As well I would like…" He trailed off. "This is not an appropriate venue for this conversation," he announced, and then led me down the hall to a relatively private viewing alcove. "Come."

I followed him into the small space, where we sat on the small bench facing toward the large viewport. "I would like," he began again, "to offer you the use of my quarters as a refuge and a home while I am away. Spot is calmer when she is not alone at night, and you have stated more than once that you 'sleep better' in our bed than you do at your mother's."

"You won't feel like I've invaded your space?"

"You already spend a significant amount of time in my quarters. I have already extended a general invitation for you to come and go as you please. As well, you have already 'invaded' my programming."

I laughed at that. "So, I have. Well, thank you. I don't know if I'll want to spend much time there without you, but it's nice to know I can." I looked away from him, then back, and admitted. "I'm going to miss you, and I'm scared you won't come home, but these missions are a part of your job, and I guess learning to deal with absences is just another, really tricky, etude."

"Indeed," he said, with a note of something like pride in his voice. "It will be so for both of us." It hadn't occurred to me until that moment that being apart from me would affect him, but I chose not to question his statement. "I believe," he continued, "that I can offer something which may…help."

He reached into his uniform jacket and withdrew a familiar string of green, white, and turquoise beads. "My bracelet," I breathed, taking it from him. "But it broke when Lore was… it broke on Melona."

"A very young man of our mutual acquaintance collected the beads and held them until I could retrieve them. I restrung them for you, but one bead was missing. I took the liberty of adding a single one of an additional color."

I examined the bracelet, found the single yellow-gold bead that had been added, and smiled. "It reminds me of you," I said.

"That was my intent."

I held out my left wrist, "Help me put it on?" He nodded and did so. In truth, this was the third time Data had performed this precise action, but that time, after the cords were fastened securely, he placed a kiss over the pulse-point inside my wrist.

I shivered slightly, but then a wave of guilt hit. "Charlie Simmons," I said. "I feel bad. I couldn't deal with people… after… and I never got to say goodbye."

The Melona colony had been planned with backup alpha and beta sites, just in case, and while I had been in the immediate stage of recovery from my own ordeal, the colonists had been taken to their new homeworld.

"I am certain his parents explained your absence in a way he could understand."

"I know but…"

"Perhaps you could send him a letter."

I grinned ruefully. "That's not a bad idea." I paused. "How much time 'til you report to the shuttle bay?"

"I am reporting to the transporter room, not the shuttle bay, and there are thirty-seven minutes, seventeen seconds remaining."

"Am I allowed to walk down there with you, and see you off?"

He took a millisecond to think it over. "That would be acceptable."

I caught his hand as we left the alcove, and we walked that way to Transporter Room Three. The corridor outside the room was conveniently empty, so I pulled his head down for a searing kiss. "I love you," I reminded him, breathing the words against his mouth. "Come home to me."

He ran his hand through my hair, then pulled away. "Etudes," he said softly. "It is all etudes, Zoe, and we will both master them."

We shared one more kiss, and then he left.

I waited until the doors had closed behind him before I turned and retraced our path, but I didn't go back to class, and I didn't go home. I went to his quarters, curled up on the couch with Spot, and sobbed until I'd wrung every tear out of my system.

(=A=)

Stardate 45242.06

(Sunday, 31 March 2368, 11:31 hours, ship's time)

Even though Data had given me his permission to stay in his quarters, I'd resisted, electing to spend the first night he was gone at home with my mother. When I still hadn't managed to sleep by ten on Saturday morning, I packed a bag, and relocated. He may not have been home, but being around his things, and sleeping in the bed we shared, helped more than I thought it would.

Also, it was easier to not see my mother's increasingly worried-looking face.

When Data's annunciator sounded on Sunday morning, I called, "Come in," assuming it was Mom insisting that I meet her for brunch, even though we'd agreed to dinner.

Instead, the person who walked in was my android lover's best friend. "Hey, Zoe," Geordi said, smiling. "Data said you'd likely be staying here while he was gone. I thought you might do me a favor and join me for a meal."

"Do you a favor?" I asked. "He put you up to this."

"He might have mentioned his concern for your well-being," the engineer hedged. "But I thought you might want to give me a hand with a project after we eat."

"A project?" I asked skeptically. "What kind of project requires the assistance of a student whose talents are all in the arts, rather than the sciences?"

"Uh-uh. That's for me to know, and you to discover after you've come to brunch with me," he teased.

I looked down at the jeans and boots I'd thrown on, along with a teal V-neck sweater. The sleeves were pushed up, and my bracelet clicked satisfyingly from where it belonged, on my left wrist, every time I moved that arm. "Am I dressed okay?"

He made a show of giving me the once-over. "You're fine. And I'm hungry."

I laughed. "Okay, let's go."

I'd expected him to take me to Ten-Forward, and I wasn't mistaken. I was, however, surprised to find that we weren't eating alone. The table he directed me toward was already occupied by an engineering ensign I'd met a couple of weeks before.

"Zoe, this is Ensign Robin Lefler. Robin, this is my friend Zoe."

"We've met," the other woman said, offering me a shy smile. "But it wasn't under the best circumstances. I'm glad to have another chance. Data speaks of you often."

I managed not to blush, but answered as I took the seat opposite her, "Well, if it's good, it's true, and if it's not he was misinformed."

She and Geordi both laughed at that. "It's all good," she said. "Trust me. Anyway, Geordi says you need shuttle lessons, and I need to earn hours to get my next certification."

I turned to the chief engineer, giving him a quizzical look. "You're pairing us up?"

He nodded. "Something like that. I'll run you through the basics on the simulator after we eat, and then Ensign Lefler – Robin – will supervise your practice."

"But none of that," Robin put in, "can happen until we eat. I heard you're a connoisseur of breakfast foods. What do you recommend?"

Without Data sharing my plate, I was able to order a side of bacon with my omelet, and both engineers sharing my table followed my lead. Brunch was pleasant, and then we relocated to the holodeck to run the shuttle simulations.

Three hours later, Robin excused herself to get ready for a duty shift on the bridge. Like most ensigns, she was rotating through different departments, though Geordi had been impressed enough with her that she was spending a significant amount of time in his. "We'll do this again on Wednesday, okay, Zoe?" she asked as she exited the holographic shuttle.

"Count on it," I said.

Geordi shared a pleased grin with me, but he waited for his protégé to leave before he said, "Thank you for being open to sharing your lesson. Lefler's got the makings of a good officer, but she doesn't make friends easily."

"So, you set us up because I'm non-threatening, or because you want her to believe I'll report everything to Data?"

"I knew you'd figure that out."

I grinned. "I'm pretty sure you also know that Data and I almost never talk about his work."

"But you won't rat me out."

"Well," I began in my best wheedling tone.

"Oh, come on, Zoe." But he was chuckling.

I favored him with a grin, then let it fade before I said, "Actually, I kind of need a favor

"Name it."

"You're covering our math class while Data's away, yes?" Again, he answered with a nod. "Last year, he had our final ready weeks before the end of the school year. I thought at the time that it was just so Wes could take it early… but I realized he's just that obsessive about preparation."

"He can be. Where is this going Zoe?"

"Does he have this year's final already prepared? And if so, do you have access to it?"

Geordi leaned back in the right-hand seat of the shuttle. "I can't give you the questions in advance Zoe. I wouldn't, even for you."

"What? Oh, god, no. I didn't mean… Look, I was just hoping you'd give me the final – actually administer the final – for me."

"I could. Would you mind telling me why?"

I hesitated, not sure how detailed I should be. Finally, I decided that the only thing that would work was the truth. "Because even though you've been grading my work since the semester started, Data and I have reached a point in our relationship where I don't think I can sit in his class anymore. It wouldn't be…"

"Appropriate?"

"Something like that." I paused. "You don't really want the details, do you?" I made the question light, almost a joke, just to take the pressure off.

"Good to know one of you knows where friendship ends and TMI begins." He looked out the simulated window at the simulated star field, apparently turning my request around in his mind. "Tell you what," he began after several minutes' thought. "Come to class this week. The lesson plan is mostly review. If you still want to take the final, I'll give it to you on Friday."

"Thank you," I said, resisting the urge to hug him. "Thank you."

(=A=)

Stardate 45253.43

(Tuesday, 2 April 2368, 18:12 hours, ship's time)

"Have you ever been to a Vulcan funeral?" I asked my mother over dinner in our quarters. Ed was in his own quarters, giving us some space for a mother-daughter dinner before the first rehearsal of Little Women. Dr. Crusher had hand-picked her cast, and since Data's character didn't even come into the show until Act II, she'd decided to begin rehearsals without him.

I didn't mind – after all, it wasn't like he had to work to memorize lines or blocking the way the rest of us did – except that Lt. Barclay was his understudy. While Reg's performance skills had improved, he still wasn't the man I wanted to play Fritz to my Jo.

Not that most actors got to choose their co-stars, but still…

"I haven't," my mother answered. "But the event next week won't be a funeral, so much as a memorial. Sarek was a public figure, an icon throughout the Federation, so he will be remembered with a public event, but from what I've heard, the actual funeral was just for family, and has already occurred."

"Tev said pretty much the same thing," I said as I picked at the grilled chicken on my plate. Word of Ambassador Sarek's death had come just a few days after the Enterprise had left Vulcan, after Data and Captain Picard had left the ship. "He said his mother's been in deep meditation since it happened, and he feels like a heavy sadness is weighing on him."

"It must be difficult to be a telepath or an empath at a time like this," Mom observed. "Are you feeling any of it?"

Tev – my ex-boyfriend, and still friend, T'vek Mairaj – had melded with me twice when we were intimate. The first time had been an accident, and it had scared both of us so much we'd barely interacted for days afterward. The second time had been on the night of my sixteenth birthday, and it had been intentional. A lot of people believed that mind-melds were painful and horrible, but my experience had been full of joy and love.

Still, over a year later, there were sometimes… echoes… especially if we were in close proximity, or, less often, when we were chatting over subspace.

"I've felt a little subdued, but I just assumed it was because I miss Data, and my routine is off." I hesitated, because I still hadn't told Mom about the most recent flashback I'd had, and I wasn't certain I even should, considering when it happened. She's your mother, she loves you, and she'll understand, I reminded myself. "Listen, Mom, the other night when Data came over to ask you if I could go talk with him… something happened."

My mother put her fork down. "Oh?" Her tone was casual, too casual.

"Well, first we had a fight, but we talked it through before we went to bed. But later…." I set down my own fork as well, but only so I could pick up my water glass, and drink from it. "Later, I couldn't sleep, and we… we started getting amorous and in the middle of it, I had a flashback, and I punched him."

"You punched Data?"

"Well, not hard, or anything."

"Did he hurt you?"

"My hand was a little sting-y for a while, but it's fine now." I said. "I mean, it was fine by… it's fine. That's really not the topic I wanted to focus on."

She picked up her fork again, stabbed a carrot, ate it, and then, finally, met my eyes. "What did you want to focus on?"

"What do I do so I don't have a flashback in the middle of sex?"

My question hung between us like the speech bubbles in an ancient comic book. I saw my mother press her lips together and then give a slight nod, as if acknowledging what I'd asked. When she finally spoke, it was in a voice that was level and soft.

"I think you just have to be honest, Zoe. If there are gestures or positions that remind you of what happened when you were with…"

"When I was with Lore, Mom," I interrupted. "We have to say his name. He isn't some fantasy-novel wizard whose name gives him power, he's just a person. A sick and twisted person, but still a person. We have to say his name, or he becomes a nightmare. And I'm tired of nightmares."

"Alright, then. If there are specific things that remind you of being with Lore, you need to be very honest with Data."

"Just say, 'don't pin me, don't grab my wrists,' as if it's normal to give instructions?" Or 'don't use teeth.'

"It is normal, hon, to tell your partner if there are things you do or don't want to do. With all the time you and Data have spent together, it's never come up?"

"I didn't know something would bother me until it did, and when it did it was zero-to-flashback in the space of a breath. I mean… how do I warn him not to do things, if I don't even know which things to warn him about?"

"Oh, Zoificus, you do love to challenge me, don't you?"

I shrugged. "Like mother, like daughter?"

"Evidently," Mom snorted. We each toyed with our respective dinners for a few minutes before she asked, "Have you asked Counselor Troi about this?"

I shook my head. "She's not just my counselor; she's his. She's also his friend. I can talk to her about almost anything, and she's usually pretty helpful, but… this wasn't a counselor-thing. This was a Mom-thing."

My mother favored me with a combination of her patented 'gushy-mom' look, and her best wry grin. "I see." She stared at her plate and my plate and seemed to come to a decision. "Zoe, darling, I'd like to suggest something."

"Mom?"

"Let's recycle these plates and replace them with chocolate brownie sundaes."

"Mom?"

"This is a chocolate sundae conversation, Zoe. Trust me."

She didn't have to ask me again.

(=A=)

Stardate 45261.96

(Friday, 5 April 2368, 21:04 hours, ship's time)

By Friday, I was looking forward to hiding in Data's quarters for the weekend just so I could have some alone-time. My well-meaning friends had conspired to keep me busy all week, with holodeck time, study sessions, and video night, not to mention rehearsals for the play, and I was so tired I was pretty sure I could sleep three days straight with no trouble.

As he'd promised, Geordi had given me the final exam for Data's math tutorial earlier that day, just after our regular class had met. My score wasn't bad considering the material included the eight weeks of class I wouldn't be attending: eighty-six percent. Averaged with my other test scores, my grade for the whole class ended up being ninety-one percent. Not as high as I'd hoped, but not low enough to affect my GPA much. I would still have to see Ms. Phelps after the weekend, but I felt confident about my decision.

By nineteen hundred hours, I'd spent enough time with my friends that they didn't object to me bailing on them, and I'd also checked in with Counselor Troi, who apologized for not being around much during the previous week. She had been dealing with a mission of her own, she explained.

"But if you need me…?"

"I'm fine," I said. "Well, mostly." I was sitting on a chair in her quarters, and I didn't want to interrupt her evening for longer than was truly necessary. I filled her in on my week, ending with, "But the whole ship feels kind of… subdued? No, somber. And I feel this weird mix of sadness and loneliness at the edge of my brain. I thought I was just missing Data – pathetic, right? – but Mom suggested I might be feeling echoes of T'vek's sadness over Sarek."

"That's possible," she agreed. "But it's also possible it's your own grief. You met the ambassador, didn't you?"

I nodded, "When he was here, a bit over a year ago. But it was only a two second conversation. Data told him I was a student and a musician, and he told me never to stop playing, even if I don't make music a career."

"Wise advice, don't you think?" she said it with just enough levity to take the edge off my mood.

"I guess I feel like I didn't know him well enough to grieve over his death."

"Grief doesn't work that way, Zoe; you know that. You've grown up hearing about Sarek, and when you met him, he became a real person to you, and not just a figure from a textbook. It's natural for you to feel sad."

"I guess so," I agreed reluctantly.

"I know so," she said. "As to Data, it's not pathetic that you miss him. The two of you have been experiencing some intense changes in your relationship, and this is the first time he's been away from the ship since those changes began." She smiled softly. "I shouldn't tell you this, but I have it on excellent authority that he and the captain will likely be home by morning." Her expression grew serious again. "Don't you dare wait up for him, though; he wouldn't want you to. Go make some tea or hot chocolate, cuddle Spot, and read or watch something on the entertainment system."

I stood up. "I'll do that," I said. "Thank you."

I returned to Data's quarters and gave them a once-over to make sure I hadn't made things too untidy, spent half an hour indulging a playful Spot, and then took the Counselor's advice and went to bed with the cat, a book, and a mug of mint tea.

(=A=)

Stardate 45262.79

(Saturday, 6 April 2368, 04:23 hours, ship's time)

The sound of the bedroom door opening and closing inserted itself into my dream, rousing me just enough to ask, "Data? Is that you?"

"Yes, Zoe. I am home. Do not get up, I will join you."

I heard the soft sounds of clothing being removed, but I was still mostly asleep, and happy to stay that way. I felt his weight make the mattress dip slightly, and when he moved to cuddle with me, I turned my head enough for him to easily reach my lips.

"Missed you," I murmured, nestling myself into his arms. Dimly, I realized he hadn't bothered with his pajama bottoms. "Glad you're back."

"I have missed you, also," he said. "It is after zero four hundred hours. Go back to sleep; we will 'catch up' later in the morning."

"Mmkay. 'Night, Data."

"Good night, Zoe. Pleasant dreams."

Notes: The events of "Unification, Part I" begin on Stardate 45233.1 (Tuesday 26 March 2368, 07:33 hours, ship's time), but clearly, they're not resolved in a day – they don't even get to Vulcan and then to the Romulan homeworld in a day. For purposes of this story, that's roughly when Picard was briefed, and any other Stardates and Calendar dates are consistent within the CrushVerse. We're going to pretend that there were more than four days between Unification I and Unification 2. (I do not believe the writers had any real concept of the actual vastness of space. (Fortunately, there are no canon events that have Stardates in April, so I'm not moving anything else out of alignment.)

Dr. Selar is a canon character. We saw her in one episode (she's played by Suzi Plakson, who also played K'Ehleyr in TNG, the Female Q in Voyager, and Tarah in Enterprise), but it's implied that she's still aboard the Enterprise. She has a prominent role in the TNG novel The Eyes of the Beholders, by A.C. Crispin. It's vintage TNG, but worth the read.

The conversation between Zoe and Data (the very first time they had tea in his quarters) is in Crush, Chapter 26 ("Parley.").

C'Thia is the Vulcan practice that humans interpret as logic and the control of emotions. It's actually much more than that, and not all Vulcans follow it to the same degree.

Sarek's death happened off-camera in Unification, Part I. Zoe and T'vek mind-melded in Crush, Chapter 42 ("Happy Birthday, Sweet Sixteen") Revised 12 May 2019