A/N: Thank you so much!
C/W: Contains abusive behaviour, smut, and dub con/rape. Will contain Data/Tasha fluff. Lore is a master of manipulation.
This is a fic in which Lore (still his loveably flawed, chaotic self) plays the long con before showing his true colours. Also, Lore and Data have significantly greater capacity to feel than canon suggests.
Wes did not return.
In fact, Beverly had sat up until well after 02:00 hours in hopes that he might come back after cooling down.
Only, he didn't.
When she'd first gone to bed, Beverly had taken a book with her. It hadn't been enough to distract her mind.
She'd laid awake all-night thinking about the unfortunate circumstances of her failed reconciliation dinner.
By the time her alarm had sounded, Beverly was sure she hadn't slept at all – even though it had simultaneously felt like an agonisingly long night and all too short a time in one go.
As she clambered out of bed and into the lavvy, Beverly paused and gave herself a hard look in the mirror.
She felt like she was losing her son.
Not just Wes. An unwelcome voice in her head chimed in.
Deanna had seemed uncomfortable with Beverly's relationship. Her oldest and dearest friend, Jean-Luc had made his feelings on the matter perfectly clear.
And then there was Tasha.
After she was ready for the day, Beverly sat down at her breakfast table alone.
She surveyed the empty table and was overcome with an uncomfortable realisation. Beverly felt utterly alone. Isolated.
And she was beginning to question if it was worth it.
Data was roused from his sleep programme by the sensation of fingernails gently scratching at his back.
His eyes fluttered open, and he rolled over onto his back.
Tasha snuggled up next to him in the crook of his arm as she rested her head against his chest.
"Mmm, morning," she said with a yawn.
"Good morning," Data responded.
He brushed the top of her hair with a quick peck as he gave her a squeeze.
Data smiled as he stared at the ceiling.
Everything about this felt right – nestled under the sheets, together, completely smitten with one another.
It was exactly what Data had been hoping to capture with this trip.
Tasha was grateful for the chance to sleep. Shore leave meant no morning report. While Tasha was typically an early riser, it had been a welcome change to sleep past 04:00.
The sun had risen nearly an hour earlier and there was bright gleam reflecting across the powdery snow that caked the mountains surrounding their cabin.
"Looks like it's going to be a beautiful day," Tasha remarked.
She was keen to get out and enjoy it.
But as Data's hand crept under her shirt to stroke her spine, there was a part of Tasha longing to spend the day in bed with him.
Data took hold of Tasha's left hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it.
He paused to admire the ring she was wearing on her finger. The ring he had given her. The one she now wore with pride, a testament to their commitment.
It made Data's heart swell to know that she was comfortable wearing it openly now – even if it was just for the trip.
"Have you thought at all about when you would like to get married?" Data asked.
"Not really," Tasha confessed.
The pomp and circumstance of a ceremony wasn't all that important to Tasha. What mattered was being with Data and doing something that made him happy.
She was suddenly struck by an idea.
"Why?" Tasha asked as she propped herself up to study his face.
Her eyes narrowed.
"You have something in mind, don't you?" Tasha asked knowingly.
Data's eyebrows went up. He shook his head ever so slightly, feigning innocence.
"I have some vague thoughts," Data responded.
Tasha crawled on top of him. She grinned as she nuzzled against his face.
"You don't do vague. You never have," Tasha teased.
She planted a soft kiss on his mouth.
"I have thought of the mmm," Data paused for another kiss. "More traditional Terran human mmmm customs."
"Uh huh," Tasha responded as she peppered a trail of slow kisses along his jawline.
"The Vulcan custom of mmph-"
Tasha grinned against his mouth before turning her attention to his Adam's apple. Data closed his eyes as his neural net surged. Without a word, Tasha could send his self-confidence through the metaphorical hull.
She truly appreciated the beauty of who he was – all of him, right down to his circuits.
"The Federation recognises the marriage customs of all member species and allies," Data went on. "Therefore we could opt for the full fourteen-day ceremonial tradition of the Galondons or simply run away and elope on Risa."
Tasha glanced up at Data and grinned.
"Mmmm, I like the sound of that," Tasha said as she dove back in to nip the pulse point of Data's neck. "And the thought of you in some wet, scandalously tight swim shorts."
A small gasp escaped Data's throat as Tasha's fingers closed around his semi-hard cock, stroking him through the drawstring trousers he wore to bed.
"We could get married on the beach," Tasha suggested.
"I am not opposed to the idea. However, would our dress uniforms not be inappropriate for such a setting?" Data inquired.
He was concerned about getting sand in his boots.
"Just because we're in Starfleet doesn't mean we need to have a Starfleet wedding," Tasha reminded him as she kissed the spot just to the left of his chin. "Besides, I might want to wear something else."
Data's eyes lit up.
Tasha seldom wore anything other than her uniform, standard-issue casual jumpsuit, workout clothes, or her favourite team jerseys. She preferred fashion that was functional as there was no telling when a Romulan warbird would crop up or when they would meet a Cardassian contingent.
It was a rare treat whenever she dressed up and Data was excited at the thought of it.
His mind briefly drifted back to the first time he'd seen her out of uniform in that Orion getup. It was all blue silk and bangles - so utterly different that Data had been captivated.
He'd always seen Tasha as an aesthetically pleasing human. But there had been something lovely about seeing her in so vulnerable and feminine a manner.
Tasha had chosen to share that part of herself with Data and Data alone. It was a memory that Data treasured.
"Such as?" Data prompted.
"Oh I don't know," Tasha responded as she nuzzled his neck. "Maybe nothing at all."
Before Data could open his mouth to inquire, Tasha silenced him with a slow, sweet kiss.
"I'll be right with you," Beverly said, motioning for Geordi to take a seat on one of the exam tables.
It had been a busy morning in sickbay – compounded by the fact that Beverly was struggling to keep her mind occupied.
Fortunately, Lore had been a huge help. He was moving along well with his medical training, and he had a great bedside manner with the patients.
For Beverly, it was a reminder of just why she'd fallen in love with him.
He was running an osteogenerator tool over young Peter Quinn as he assessed the damage from a fall on the Enterprise school's playground.
"That was very brave," Lore praised as he mended the fractured wrist.
Lore glanced up and met Beverly's gaze.
From across the room they shared a small smile before he turned his attention back to his patient.
"There we go," Lore said as picked up the child, helping him off the tall exam bed. "Mind those monkey bars next time, eh?"
Lore was so good with children.
Except when it came to Wesley. Beverly lamented.
But Beverly didn't have time to dwell on that thought.
"Hey Doc, sorry to be that guy, but I really need to get a report to the Captain. I can stop back later if now is a bad time," Geordi said.
"No, no!" Beverly assured him as she refocused.
Beverly grabbed her diagnostic tricorder and stepped over to Geordi's table. It was a routine follow-exam from his recent injury. He was healing nicely, but Beverly wanted to ensure there weren't any lasting complications.
Geordi's neural implants made him extra susceptible to migraines, auras, and optic nerve pressure.
"Report for the Captain, huh? Any news on the investigation?" Beverly asked.
She was referring to their investigation on the mysterious disappearance of all organic matter (including living beings) from Tauphin IV.
"Yeah. Sheer luck I found more audio in the memory buffer of the equipment from that communications system. I don't quite understand it, but I'm happy we recovered something," Geordi shared.
There were still many unanswered questions. Nevertheless, Geordi's discovery was a step in the right direction.
"Good," Beverly nodded in agreement.
She turned off her tricorder and dropped it back in her pocket.
"And everything looks good here. Keep me advised of any changes in your VISOR interface, headaches, or neck pain, alright?" Beverly requested.
"You got it, Doc," Geordi responded before exiting.
He was due for an important appointment with Captain Picard and Commander Riker.
"My dear doctor, let me take you to lunch," Lore said as he crept up behind Beverly, trapping her in his arms.
She was standing in her office combing through the report from the overnight shift.
"I can't," Beverly protested.
"Then run away with me," Lore teased in a low voice against her ear.
She giggled as he kissed her neck.
Beverly turned in his arms and flashed a small smile.
"I can't very well do Ensign Anderson's surgery later if I run away with you," Beverly responded. "You know, the one you're going to assist on?"
"Then we'll pack a bag so we can leave right after," Lore remarked.
With his left hand, he took hold of Beverly's hand. His other gripped the small of her back. Lore spun them around and began to sway as if there was music.
"By this time tomorrow I'll have you in my arms, dancing on the boardwalk of Deniau VII," Lore offered.
"You don't know how much I wish we could," Beverly replied.
The thought of getting away for a while sounded lovely. Beverly was momentarily hit with a pang of jealousy.
After all, Data and Tasha had been the ones responsible for this whole horrible situation the last few days – and now they were off living it up somewhere while Lore and Beverly were stuck on the ship dealing with the fallout.
"I supposed I could settle for the holodeck," Lore grinned.
"Then you'll have to get yourself a holographic partner," Beverly quipped.
Beverly looked to the stack of isolinear memory chips on her desk and then back at Lore.
"I'm behind on these reports and I have a feeling my afternoon is about to fill up." Beverly shared.
Lore cocked his head to the side in confusion.
"Geordi got lucky. Said he found some more clues to the incident on Tauphin IV in some communications equipment they recovered," Beverly explained. "Isn't that wonderful?"
Lore was silent.
The fact that Geordi had brought the equipment aboard the ship despite Lore's warning about a possible contamination left Lore seething.
He was outraged.
How dare they! He fumed.
Although his excuse about a possible unknown dangerous contaminate had really been a cover, Lore was hurt that the team did not trust him enough to heed his appeal for caution.
It was another reminder that he wasn't really one of them.
Of course, they would have listened had it been Data to make such a suggestion.
"Ow!" Beverly cried.
Lore was so caught up in his internal brooding that he was completely unaware of his surroundings. As an outlet for his anger, he had subconsciously gripped Beverly tight – squeezing her hand hard enough to make her cry out in pain.
"Ow. Lore!" Beverly said, raising her voice to get his attention.
Lore immediately released her, pulling away as if he had been burned.
He eyed her face with worry.
"I-I-I am sorry," Lore stammered.
Beverly massaged her hand, her face contorted in pain.
"Please," he said he reached for her injured hand.
Beverly recoiled.
Lore froze, utterly devastated.
Beverly shook her head.
What am I doing? She asked herself.
This was Lore. Her Lore.
"Sorry," she said as she let him gently massage her hand and wrist.
"I am the one that should apologise," Lore responded.
He had allowed his anger to consume him.
The sudden change in his behaviour struck her as odd. It was not unlike the flash of anger she'd witnessed during their shore leave.
In contrast to the gentle android she had come to know and adore, this had been so unlike him. While everyone had two sides, it had terrified Beverly – if only for a brief moment.
"Are you alright?" Beverly questioned.
"I am sorry. The news about this wonderful discovery reminded me of all the devastation on Tauphin IV. All those people. I do hope we find them," Lore lied.
From the minute she stepped on the lift, Deanna could sense just how conflicted Beverly was.
"It sounds like Geordi's made some progress," Deanna said brightly, hoping to initiate conversation.
Things had been awkward between the two friends ever since the incident at the beach party.
"Hmm? Oh, right," Beverly replied.
"Are you feeling alright?" Deanna inquired.
"Fine," Beverly responded quickly.
They were both silent for an excruciating twenty seconds before Beverly found her voice. The atmosphere in the lift was positively suffocating.
"I don't need you to analyse this," Beverly said suddenly.
"Of course not," Deanna replied.
In spite of her warning, Beverly felt like Deanna couldn't help but read into her emotional state. She couldn't shake feeling rattled – both about her rapidly deteriorating situation with Wesley and because of the incident in her office with Lore.
Beverly surmised she must have radiated confusion and pain.
Her suspicions about Deanna were confirmed shortly thereafter.
"You know, when I can't decide between a chocolate sundae and a Samarian sunset, I go for a walk around the ship instead," Deanna advised. "Gives me time to clear my head."
Beverly didn't look over at Deanna. Instead, she concentrated all of her attention on the turbolift door.
"Would you like to get dinner tonight?" Deanna offered.
She was giving Beverly an out, an excuse to step away from the situation with Lore and Wesley in a manner that allowed her to avoid offending either of them.
"Dinner would be great," Beverly replied.
Splat.
Data paused and looked up as he registered an impact from something cold on his bicep. There was nothing visible in the sky.
Then there was a similar impact on his back between his shoulder blades followed by the tell-tale sign of Tasha attempting to cover up laughter.
Data turned and got a face full of cold as a third snowball hit just below his eye.
Tasha was standing a few metres away tossing a fourth snowball casually in the air before catching it again. She flashed him a devious grin.
Data quickly accessed his information database on human behaviour and outdoor activities.
"Ah," he said brightly. "The act of engaging in a playful brawl using projectiles made from frozen ice crystals. Commonly known as a snowball fight and-"
Smack.
Tasha got him square in the jaw with another snowball.
She laughed wickedly, egging him on.
Data cocked his head to the side and stared at Tasha for a moment. He lowered his eyebrows and the edge of his mouth curved upward in smug determination.
In retrospect, Tasha realised picking a fight with Data had not been one of her finer moments.
She dove for cover as his superior speed and strength pummelled her with a line of fire.
For every eight snowballs Data threw, Tasha was lucky to get one off. He was so slick that he'd even knocked a newly packed one out of her hand before she had the chance to launch it.
So Tasha decided to try a different approach – something he wasn't expecting.
Instead of dodging the line of fire, Tasha ran straight at him.
"Tasha?" Data asked in confusion. "Tasha you are going to-"
She tackled him, sending them both tumbling back into a thick blanket of fresh, powdery snow.
Tasha threw her head back and cackled.
Her face was flushed both from the cold and the exertion. Her hair was askew due to the headband that covered her ears for warmth. And the tip of her nose was starting to leak.
Tasha turned her attention back to Data, holding his gaze. She sniffled in between a series of heavy breaths.
Data was mesmerised, enthralled by her presence.
Data's concept of time allowed him to observe every microsecond of that moment. For Data, it was an experience of pure, childlike bliss.
"What?" Tasha asked.
"You have snowflakes on your eyelashes," Data observed.
Tasha averted her eyes. She got embarassed whenever he made her feel beautiful.
"When all else fails, ramming speed," she laughed, hoping to redirect the conversation.
In a flash, Data rolled them so that she was flipped on her back.
"I believe you should quit while you are ahead as my ramming speed is considerably more devastating," Data teased.
Tasha snorted.
Data blinked, bewildered. He had not anticipated that response.
"Don't I know it," Tasha replied playfully.
She tried her best to maintain a straight face as she watched realisation slowly dawn on Data.
"Tasha, I assure you I did not mean-" Data began to explain.
Tasha put a finger to his lips to stop him.
"I know," she assured him.
Tasha dropped her gaze as she fumbled with the clasp at the top of his cold weather suit.
"What do you say we wander into the village and find a little hole in the wall with bad Raktajino and warm up?" Tasha suggested.
"So, like I said, I don't know what this thing is. Ship. Creature. Hallucination," Geordi explained. "But whatever it is, they were all seeing the same thing."
After analysing all of the recovered audio logs from the surface and the ships abandoned in orbit, it was evident that they had all reported seeing a giant snowflake.
It had seemingly come out of nowhere.
"I'm not sure Starfleet Command will appreciate me sending a bulletin advising caution around snowflakes," Picard mused.
"Ristivio Fever and Dengara are both known to cause mass hallucinations and hysteria," Beverly suggested. "Though it's odd there are no bodies anywhere."
She'd seen the reports from an outbreak of Dengara on the USS Asimov. Twenty-one crew members had ripped one another apart, thoroughly convinced their colleagues had all been overtaken by their violent delusions.
"There's no evidence of a struggle down there," Riker said. "It's like everyone just vanished. Poof."
"Poof?" Worf asked, quirking an eyebrow at the First Officer.
"I'd like to hear these logs," Picard ordered.
"Of course," Geordi replied.
He turned to Wes and nodded.
Wesley had been Geordi's partner in combing through all of the recovered material. He tapped his PADD and entered the appropriate command to pipe the files through the audio system in the observation lounge.
Nothing happened.
"Wes?" Geordi inquired.
Wes shook his head.
"I don't know. I'm trying to access the files in the lab," Wes said as he attempted to troubleshoot the error.
Wesley frowned.
"The computer is having trouble locating the source material in the lab's memory banks," Wesley explained. "It's like the files aren't there. Must be some kind of communication issue between the network and the lab."
"Sorry about this, Captain. I'll run a diagnostic and transmit the audio logs to the computer in your ready room," Geordi said.
"Excellent. I look forward to it. Dismissed," Picard ordered.
Data and Tasha stumbled into a quaint bookstore on a cobblestone street in the village at the base of the mountain. Tasha stomped the snow off her boots just inside the door.
She pulled off her headband and shook the snow from her hair before running her hand back through it.
Tasha turned and grinned at Data.
Cold air was invigorating – almost as much so as a cup of Raktajino.
From the instant they stepped inside, Data's olfactory sensors had been hit with a complex mix of pleasant scents. There was the warm, nutty aroma of the Raktajino. It was slightly bitter from having been brewed too long.
The smell of old books mingled with the cedarwood candles that lined the mantle above a crackling fire.
While the shop wasn't large, it did feature a main floor and a small loft with a mix of antique books and isolinear chip files available for purchase.
"I could get lost here," Data confessed.
"C'mon," Tasha said as she guided him over to the counter to get a warm drink.
After procuring two hot Raktajinos, they had settled in at a small table in the corner of the shop. It overlooked the street outside – what little they could see as the window had a significant amount of frost creeping in from the edges.
Tasha took off her gloves and rubbed her hands together.
"Ah," she sighed.
The warmth felt divine on her frozen fingertips as she wrapped her hands around the hot beaker.
"Tasha, may I ask a question?" Data inquired.
"Sure," she responded.
"Were your statements this morning serious or intended as playful banter?" Data asked.
"You mean the wedding stuff?" Tasha asked in response.
Data nodded.
Tasha paused to blow on the contents of her cup.
"Mmm," she said as she brought it to her lips.
Tasha closed her eyes, savouring the taste and the warmth that accompanied it.
"Yeah. I mean, most of it," she clarified as she returned her cup to the table.
Tasha shrugged.
"I don't want to do anything fancy. Yanno? Just something simple. You and me," Tasha shared.
She reached across the table and took hold of Data's hand.
"But we can worry about the details later. For now, I just want to live in the joy of waking up next to my fiancé," she smiled.
"Captain, I regret to inform you we still haven't made any progress," Geordi reported. "I don't understand it, sir."
Just like the people of Tauphin IV, the logs the Enterprise had recovered had mysteriously vanished without a trace.
Geordi and Wes had tried everything they could think of – including ripping apart the computer in the lab. It had all been in vain.
Wes and Geordi were immediately suspicious that Lore had been involved somehow.
"Is there any trace of tampering?" Picard asked vaguely.
Geordi paused.
"None, sir. According to the security logs, no one has been in or out of this lab since Wes and I left this morning," Geordi advised.
Then our phantom has returned. Jean-Luc thought darkly.
He didn't know how Lore was doing it – but Jean-Luc was positive Lore had a way to slip in and out without a trace.
Yet, Jean-Luc was left wondering why.
All of Lore's efforts up until now had seemed fixated on getting under Data's bioplast. The logs had nothing to do with Data.
Unless Data was the target. Jean-Luc realised.
Jean-Luc audibly gasped as sat back in his chair as he contemplated this theory. It was a horrifying thought to think Lore would go to such great lengths to harm his brother.
But that's impossible! Jean-Luc's voice of reason chimed in.
Lore and Data were practically identical in all of their capabilities. They didn't have the power or weaponry necessary to wipe out all living matter on a planet.
And there had been no indication that Lore had left the ship or communicated with any other vessels in the area.
Although Lore had somehow managed to manipulate the entry logs in both Tasha's quarters and the lab.
More than ever, Jean-Luc longed for the chance to sit down and talk this out with Beverly. She would have an idea, a suggestion, some flash of brilliance that would point him in the right direction.
Over the course of their long friendship, he had come to appreciate and value her insight.
He took a sip of tea and sighed.
Now he didn't even have that.
How could one android cause so much damage? Jean-Luc lamented.
He wasn't thinking of Tauphin IV. Rather, the Picard's thoughts were of his ship and his crew. Lore had very nearly destroyed the relationship between Data and Lieutenant Yar. He'd damaged Jean-Luc's credibility with Beverly, and he feared they were fast reaching the point of it being irreparable.
Data's relationship with the other crew was in jeopardy following Geordi's injuries. Worf in particular harboured strong feelings about the incident.
Rumour had it Beverly and Tasha were on the fritz and Deanna's relationship with the Doctor had suffered a setback.
Even Jean-Luc's working relationship with Commander Riker had been under strain.
His crew was fractured, and Jean-Luc wasn't sure where to begin repairing that.
There was a soft crunch of snow underfoot as Data and Tasha strolled back up to their cabin. The sun was beginning to set. The sky was filled with a dazzling orange glow as the golden orb dipped below the line of tall fir trees.
They had spent all afternoon in the village and a considerable portion of that time at the book shop. Data had picked up a number of books including a gift for the Captain.
Tasha inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the crisp evening air and the scent of the pine forest that surrounded them.
"I believe the Captain will enjoy this," Data said.
He'd picked up the Complete Works of William Shakespeare in Klingon.
"I'm sure he will," Tasha said.
"There will be a warmer ambient air temperature tomorrow should you wish to partake in any of the outdoor activities," Data informed her. "In fact, the weather is expected to be favourable for the next three days."
"Perfect," Tasha replied.
She looped her arm through Data's and rested her head on his shoulder.
She'd been looking forward to hitting the slopes and wanted to explore the trails. Sun and snow was always a good time in Tasha's book.
"However, there is a storm system moving in. It is expected to hit three days from now. And temperatures will drop," Data warned.
"So I'll have to get my fix in early," Tasha surmised.
"Indeed," Data replied as the path reached a steep incline.
"How long will it last?" Tasha asked.
There was a hint of concern in her voice.
During their trip into the village, Data and Tasha had learned that there was an upcoming festival. In five days, there was to be a brilliant full moon. It was the darkest and longest night of the year.
The people of Neira celebrated such an event as it marked the start of warmer and longer days on the horizon.
According to the locals, there was an all-night celebration in the village. The villagers played games, listened to music, and shared food until the sun rose. It was also supposed to be the best night to view the polar lights that graced this region of the planet.
"Unknown," Data answered honestly. "It depends on many factors, including the wind speed. If the snowfall is too great, we may find ourselves snowed-in as it were."
"I really don't want to miss the festival. But hmmm, being snowed in? That does sound quite nice," Tasha replied.
"I am certain I could find a variety of ways to occupy our time," Data said.
"I'm sure you can," Tasha teased.
Beverly swung by her office on the way out of sickbay.
She had just completed Ensign Anderson's surgery and cleaned up. The surgery had gone well. It was Lore's third surgery since joining her team and he had performed admirably.
His android construction gave him such precision and stability that Beverly knew he was in for a long and successful career in medicine.
Beverly clicked to open her messages and scanned through the contents before shutting of the screen.
She was due to meet Deanna for dinner in an hour and wanted to change before heading to Ten Forward.
There was a soft knock at the door.
"Am I disturbing you?" Lore inquired, leaning casually against the frame.
Beverly smiled.
"You did great in there," she praised.
"Well," Lore shrugged.
He had a knack for playing bashful.
"Buy you dinner, doctor?' Lore offered.
Beverly's face fell.
"I'm actually meeting Deanna," Beverly replied.
On the inside, Lore was incensed. His mind was a in frenzy.
Was she onto him?
Did she no longer want his affections?
Had she reconciled with Wes?
Lore felt rejected.
Alone.
And it was obvious to Beverly that she'd hurt his feelings.
"I'm sorry, please," she said as she motioned for him to step inside properly.
Lore hesitantly took a seat in her office. He was terrified she was about to terminate their relationship. He felt as if he were standing at the precipice of a great fall.
Lore wasn't sure he was ready for the impact.
"Look, I've been neglecting my friends. I think that's part of why things have been difficult with Wes lately," Beverly shared.
Beverly was also hoping that if word got back to Wes that she wasn't spending all her free time with Lore, that Wes would be amenable to reconciliation.
She had to make things right with Wesley. He was all she had left.
"We'll do dinner tomorrow, okay?" Beverly promised. "I'll make something special."
Outwardly, Lore was understanding. Inside, he was seething with resentment.
He could sense he was being put off.
"Of course. That sounds wonderful. Only, may I make a slight suggestion?" Lore inquired.
Beverly nodded.
"I will make you something special," Lore said.
Beverly chuckled.
"I'm sorry. I just don't want you to feel like I'm bumping you off. I just," she trailed off. "My son is my priority."
It was true. Wesley was her number one priority.
She was also hoping that some space away from Lore would give her perspective.
"I need to show him that he's still my son and I'm still there for him," Beverly explained.
He reached across the table to take hold of her hand.
"Human adolescents often sulk. He may not appreciate all you do for him, but it does not go unnoticed," Lore assured her.
He brought her hand to his lips.
"Promise me that someday you will be your own number one priority," Lore said.
He smiled sweetly and activated the twinkle in his eye to really sell his supportive partner act.
But below the surface of his bioplast, his coolant fluid was boiling.
Omicron Theta Colony | 2336
"I'm not saying goodbye!" Lucy insisted. "I just need a few days to think about this."
It was true. She hadn't said goodbye.
But just because she hadn't said the words, didn't make them any less real.
Ever since Lore had suggested leaving Omicron Theta together, Lucy had been hesitant. He could hear it in the way her voice quavered. It was evident in her inability to make contact whenever the topic of conversation moved in the direction of leaving the colony.
Lore was desperate to escape.
For Lore, leaving wasn't a matter of choice. It was survival.
To his alarm, he'd discovered his parents had begun to collect the material necessary to create yet another android. Noonian's threats to disassemble Lore had gone from vague to specific – and his fights with Juliana on the subject were escalating and frequent.
It was only a matter of time.
But Lore knew he had a destiny beyond this miserable existence.
And he wanted Lucy to join him.
"There's nothing for you here. And there's so much more out there," Lore said.
He slipped two fingers under her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.
"If you really love me, you'll follow me," Lore pleaded.
Lucy looked heartbroken.
"But you're asking me to leave my family. Without so much as a goodbye," Lucy argued.
Skipping out in the middle of the night may have been no problem for Lore. His relationship with Noonian was strained. It would do no good to try and explain it to B4. Nova was long since melted.
Juliana was another matter.
Lore recognised his actions would hurt her.
But a part of him felt like she'd made her choice. Though she still defended him to Noonian, Lore didn't feel safe at home anymore. And he reasoned that, if it came down to it, Juliana would side with her husband over her son.
It's the way things had always shaken out in the end.
And as much he loved Juliana, Lore couldn't find it in himself to forgive her for that.
"Please," Lore begged.
"I just need a few days to think about it," Lucy replied. "It's a big decision. Some of us have family to consider."
She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.
"Oh, I didn't...I mean...I didn't mean that," Lucy stammered.
She bit her lip. She knew how sensitive Lore could be - and how easily he could take something out of context and fly off the handle.
Lore glanced up at the stars overhead.
"Would you feel the same way if Ethan Brohme asked you? Or Graham Oppenhaur?" Lore asked.
His tone had shifted from pleading to accusatory.
"Or is it because I'm not human?" Lore demanded.
Lucy was at a loss for words.
"You know that doesn't matter," Lucy insisted. "That's never mattered to me."
Lore scoffed and rolled his eyes.
"Well, at least you'll have plenty of time to contemplate that," Lore said as he stood up.
"Lore?" Lucy asked, confused by his sudden change in behaviour.
To her alarm, he began to walk away.
"Lore? Lore, where are you going?" Lucy called after him.
She got up from the blanket and chased after him as he trekked across the meadow back to the Soong homestead.
"Lore! Why are you doing this?" Lucy pleaded.
Present
"Why are you doing this?" Wesley sobbed.
"Be quiet," Lore replied.
He gripped Wesley's chin, pinching it painfully until Wes cried out.
"I am sick of the sound of your voice," Lore said as he tightened his grip. "And your name. Your fucking presence on this ship."
Lore's grip was crushing, just shy of enough to shatter Wesley's jaw.
Wes squeezed his eyes shut as a fresh batch of tears leaked out.
A muffled noise escaped from his mouth.
"What was that?" Lore teased.
Wes tried to speak again but Lore's grip made it nearly impossible. It was a plea for Lore to stop.
"I said shut up!" Lore snapped.
He released Wesley's jaw and stepped back.
A moment later, he backhanded the boy.
Wes sniffled, sobbing quietly in the chair Lore had bound him to.
"You're an arrogant, pathetic know-it-all. You think you have it made because you work on the Bridge. But no one your own age can stand you," Lore hissed. "The officers only tolerate you out of respect for your mother."
Wes glanced up at Lore, his lip trembling as he tried to hold it together.
"And you know I'm right," Lore laughed.
His head twitched twice to the left as he felt jolt of energy ripple through his body at the sight of one Wesley Crusher so entirely defeated.
Lore took a deep, artificial breath and squared his shoulders.
He felt like a new man.
"Computer, end programme. Erase file," Lore instructed.
Stepping off the holodeck, Lore felt like he'd just taken a long drag from a cigarette. His little holodeck excursion had been just what the doctor had ordered.
On his way out, he ran into Wesley Crusher and Geordi La Forge heading into the holodeck next door.
Lore flashed them both a strange smile, maintaining eye contact longer then necessary as he passed by the pair.
Wes felt a shudder run down his spine as Lore held his gaze. There was something eerie about the way he was following him with his piercing yellow eyes – almost like a predator stalking its prey.
"You alright, Wes?" Geordi asked.
"I'm not sure," Wes responded honestly.