A/N: This chapter covers the events chapters 41 – 44 of "The Complication." It covers the first part of Data & Tasha's shore leave on Earth.

There's a lot that happens in those chapters in the original story. Data finds himself wrapped up in a real mystery & gets the chance to show off his own Sherlock Holmes inspired deductive reasoning skills.

In order to keep this segment limited to one chapter, much of that arc is left out of this story.

I am desperately trying to get caught up on this story. To that end, I've had to make some significant changes in the approach.

After lengthy discussion with Charlie, we have decided to move forward by reducing the scope. We recognise some of you are only reading the "Missing Scenes."

I will do my best to summarise, and Charlie has graciously agreed to scale back her request for necessary inclusions thus making it easier to shorten/cut.

Thank you for your patience – hoping to be caught up to "The Complication" by the end of July.


Content Warning: Period sex.


Data blinked slowly as he processed the scene before him.

Tasha kicked herself internally as she observed Data for the slightest hint as to his mood.

Her first thought was that Data's silence was his way of trying to find a polite response.

"It's a protected area. Historic Preservation. No modern technology allowed. They specialise in the late Victorian Era," Tasha explained.

Nestled in the Yorkshire Dales, this village was inhabited with living historians, archaeologists, agricultural researchers, and enthusiasts. They ran period-appropriate shoppes and wore late Victorian attire while both researching and teaching everything from historic farming and mining techniques, to cooking, textile making, and woodworking.

Data was at a loss for words.

The cobblestone street, the horse-drawn carriages, the Vulcan fruit vendor with handlebar moustache selling pears from a cart – it all felt ripped straight from the pages of Dickens.

Data felt as if he had stepped onto the most wonderful holodeck programme he could envision – only every inch of this experience was real.

Tasha wasn't sure if his reaction was confusion, excitement, or disappointment.

"Look, I wanted to get you into the Sherlock Holmes Experience in London. They do this three-day thing where you live like Holmes and get to solve a case and everything," Tasha said apologetically.

Tasha was overcome with guilt.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, it's closed for maintenance. I thought maybe this would be the next closest thing. They offer Holmes-era activities and there's some interesting geological um – stuff - for you to check out," Tasha explained.

She had booked all sorts of surprises for Data including beekeeping, blacksmithing, and more.

She was rambling now, full of doubt, and questioning her decision to bring him here in the first place. Tasha scratched the back of her neck as she shifted her weight foot to foot.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I should have checked with you before-"

She stopped speaking when he pressed his lips against her own.

"You planned this?" Data asked after he pulled away.

Tasha nodded slowly.

"For me?" Data pressed.

"Yes," Tasha replied, her voice full of uncertainty.

When he didn't react, Tasha decided to take the Targ by the horn.

"I wish I could give you more," Tasha said. "I wanted to do so much more for you."

Data did not respond. He cupped her face and ran his thumb across her cheek.

"I believe it is one of the kindest acts another being as ever done on my behalf," Data said.


The village was not accustomed to receiving visitors.

And Data and Tasha were anything but typical.

Most visitors were academics – historians, archaeologists, writers and the like all looking for their chance to live the experience.

There was a small boarding house in town. But Tasha had longed for something with more privacy. After considerable digging, she had found the parish postmaster had a farmhouse he was willing to rent for the week.

His last lodger had been an archaeologist. Once his research was complete, the man had moved back to modern society and the farm had sat vacant ever since.

Nettlewood Farm was located outside of the village on the grounds of the historic preserve area.

Best of all, Data and Tasha would have the entire place to themselves.

Included with the rental of the farm was a large shire horse named Clopper.

The postmaster had offered to accompany them out to the place to give them a tour and training on using all the various equipment.

Tasha had declined.

Late Victorian technology wasn't all that different from the circumstances on Turkana and Data was such a historical aficionado that Tasha had no doubt they'd manage.

She also got the impression the postmaster was keen to keep an eye on Data.

He hadn't directly said or done anything. Nonetheless, Data and Tasha could sense the unease. There had been no shortage of stares when they arrived in the village.

Data represented everything these people had rejected.

And with that came suspicion and distrust.

Before sending them off on their own, the postmaster felt it was necessary to issue a friendly warning.

"As a reminder, we don't allow anything modern – including your uniforms. Period appropriate attire is a requirement in the village," he said, reminding Tasha of their agreement.

In order to rent the farm cottage and even to gain access to the area, Tasha had been forced to read through and sign an extensive agreement that they would play along.

"Not to worry, we packed for it," Tasha promised.

Data's audio receptors perked up at this notion.

Tasha apologised to Oswalt. She implied it wasn't possible for them to change out of uniform prior to their arrival. Data knew there was no regulation that would have prohibited this.

In truth, Tasha had carefully chosen to do so in an effort to keep the nature of their destination a surprise.

After exchanging her Federation credits for currency, Tasha made a quick supply run. There were no replicators.

That meant all their food and toiletries had to be purchased on site.

Data frowned as he realised Tasha was purchasing a week's worth of food for two.

"Tasha, you do not need to supply me with meals during the duration of our trip," Data whispered as she handed over a large sum of coins to one of the vendors.

Tasha shot Data a look.

"This trip is for both of us," Tasha said. "I'll not have you going hungry."

"Tasha, I do not experience hunger the same-"

"I want to do this," Tasha insisted.

In Turkanan custom, the ability to feed another was considered one of the highest honours. Both the cost and effort involved in producing a meal was one of the greatest acts of love.

Tasha had been looking forward to baking bread and preparing a hearty Turkanan stew for the two of them. It was the perfect way to spend an Autumn day.

More than that, Tasha knew Data enjoyed eating. Sharing meals was one of the hallmarks of their relationship.

Even before they were a couple, Tasha had frequently extended an invitation to Data to join the rest of the team for meals in the canteen. She'd never felt right leaving him out just because he didn't dine with the rest of them.

"I never get the chance to make anything for you," Tasha went on, gently cupping Data's face. "Let me do this for you, please?"

Data was unaccustomed to such kindness.

"A-alright," he agreed.

Tasha grinned.

"Good. Let's go find this farm. I'm famished," Tasha said brightly.


Nettlewood Farm was a quaint farm place nestled between a hilly, grassy pasture and an orchard. There were rows upon rows of pears, brambles, medlars, and apples.

After unloading all their supplies, Data offered to get Clopper the horse settled while Tasha arranged things inside the cottage.

Technically, Tasha had more experience with horses between the two of them. Data was an exobiologist. But Tasha had actually worked with them during her time on Turkana.

As she approached the barn to check on Data, Tasha could hear Data speaking softly to Clopper.

From the edge of the doorway, Tasha could see Data give the shire horse an extra treat – a few more sugar cubes he had been hiding since they left town.

"We will not tell Tasha," Data said quietly as he stroked the horse's neck.

Tasha smiled to herself.

For all Data's alleged emotionlessness, he was a real softie when it came to face-to-face interactions with other beings – especially animals.

Tasha tiptoed up behind Data and wrapped her arms around his torso.

"You know we're never going to be able to have kids," Tasha commented as she rested her head between his shoulders.

Data stiffened and Tasha instantly regretted her choice of words.

Children were a sensitive subject.

"You've known this horse for less than half a day and you're already spoiling him," Tasha said, clarifying that her previous comment was just banter and not commentary on his android nature.

Data relaxed.

"Because he will be alone out here. And we are new. And I do not want him to feel uncomfortable," Data replied.

"You know your heart is too big, right?" Tasha asked.

It was a half tease, half sincere statement.

And it made Data melt.


A farm cottage in the middle of nowhere may not have been a hot vacation spot for most. Yet it was perfect for Data and Tasha.

There was a library full of antique editions of books and plenty of open space to explore including hiking trails, caves, and rivers.

And there was no end to the activities. Apple picking, beekeeping, and blacksmithing had kept Data quite occupied. The landscape offered an endless library of sketching opportunities and Data was grateful that Tasha had thought to pack his supplies.

There was an ever growing a fan club of children from the village most keen for a chance to their strange visitors from the Enterprise. Their stream of questions was endless and their curiosity about space and Starfleet knew no bounds.

When it rained, Data and Tasha curled up in front of the coal stove under a heavy quilt while he read aloud from the pages Dickens and Austen and Robert Louis Stevenson.

Dreary grey mornings meant plenty of hot tea and extra socks to fight off the chill.

The farmhouse was only heated by coal and the fire in the hearth in the kitchen. There was no centralised heating nor any proper environmental controls.

Data found the experience invigorating.

Today was one of those mornings.

Tasha had risen early. After throwing an extra thick pair of woolly socks, she'd crept down from the loft to get the fire going and put the kettle on.

The floors were cold, and it was always a bit of a shock to leave the warmth of their bed.

Tasha knew from experience that the kitchen was the warmest room in the house and she liked to spend her time there.

Now, Data and Tasha were curled up together in the little sitting room listening to rain on the tin roof while Data read aloud from Tennyson's Boudicca.

"Thought on all her evil tyrannies, all her pitiless avarice, till she felt the heart within her fall and flutter tremulously, then her pulses at the clamouring of her enemy fainted away," Data went on.

As soon as he was finished, Tasha got up to add some more coals to the fire.

Tasha had said very little and Data was growing more concerned by the minute.

"Tasha?" he prompted.

"Hmm?" she responded as she scooped some coal out of the little iron bucket next to the stove.

"Are you alright?" Data asked.

"I'm fine," she replied.

Tasha didn't need to turn around to see the look on Data's face.

"I just, I didn't sleep very well," Tasha confessed. "My back's a bit sore. I think it may be the bed."

Her lower back was killing her, and she'd risen early because she couldn't stand the pain anymore.

"Then it was not the poem?" Data asked.

He needed to be certain.

"I thought you might find the story of a warrior queen intriguing. I did not mean-" he began to apologise.

"It's fine," Tasha assured him with a small smile as she returned to join him under the quilt once more.

Data had initially imagined Tasha would enjoy the piece for portraying a fierce warrior in her quest against the Romans.

In retrospect, Data realised that perhaps the story and its themes hit a bit too close to home for Tasha.

"You are not bothered by the obvious parallels between the ancient Brittonic tribes and the native Turkanans?" Data asked.

Tasha shrugged.

"To be honest, Data, I'm having trouble focusing on much of anything," Tasha confessed.

Her back was killing her. Tasha's brain was in a fog. And to make matters worse, even her go-to comfort of food was off because her stomach was queasy.

"I think I just need to move around a bit. You know, those wee buggers will be out here soon," Tasha said, reminding Data of their guests.


Shortly before 15:00 hours, a glimpse of movement caught Tasha's gaze. She looked up from the table and spied several pairs of eyes peeking through the window into the kitchen.

Suddenly, they disappeared as the children ducked.

A moment later there was a soft knock.

Tasha got up from the table to open the door. She found all six children from the day before waiting nervously outside. They had come fresh from school – having all raced out to the farm in an effort to be first to arrive in hopes of getting more time with the visitors.

"Hi," she said with a smile.

"Can we see Mr Data?" Henry asked.

"Come on in," Tasha said as she stepped aside.

There were six of them in total. They were all local children from the village. Most were between nine and twelve – save for little George who was only five and the tagalong runt of the litter.

After an argument, Tasha laid down ground rules for the afternoon. All of the children were eager for their chance to talk to Mr Data.

They were enthralled.

They wanted to know how strong Data was, how many planets he'd visited, all the aliens he'd met, and they had more than a few unusual anatomy questions.

Do you get bogeys?

Do you have a bum too?

Can we see it?

And for once, Data had a captive audience willing to hang on each and every word.


After the children scurried off home, Data and Tasha took a walk down to a nearby pond. It was called Brighton Pond and was located near a local cave system.

Tasha wanted to try her hand at placing an eel buck she'd constructed, and Data was keen to scope out the area.

The cave system was expansive. Without tricorders, Data would have to explore using ancient archaeology techniques – a thought that excited him. Data had read extensively about the likes of Herbert Hall and T.E. Lawrence.

The cave was a popular spot for many of the researchers in the village. The postmaster had advised that Data and Tasha could easily procure archaeological and caving equipment appropriate to the era from the Parish Hall.

Before they headed back, Tasha used a small public rowboat to plant her eel buck in place.

"I'll check the trap when we come back tomorrow," Tasha explained. "Hopefully it will work."

She had a wicked gleam in her eye at the prospect of being resourceful enough to catch their next meal.

Data shook his head with amusement.

"What?" Tasha asked as she looked up at him.

From her position at the front of the boat, Tasha kicked him playfully.

With his android reflexes, Data caught her foot.

"Not fair," Tasha protested.

Tasha was laughing, struggling to free her foot when she lost her balance and the boat capsized sending them into the freezing water.

The pond wasn't deep – less than two metres.

Data had quickly found his footing and stood up, the weight of his frame causing his feet to sink into the sandy surface of the pond a few centimetres.

Tasha popped up a second later – gasping and sputtering as she caught her breath from the sudden shock of the water. Data gripped her shoulder to support her until she found her footing.

"Are you alright?" Data inquired.

"Fine," she replied.

To his relief, she was laughing.

Tasha wiped the water from her eyes. She dipped her head back into the water so that she could slick her bangs back out of her eyes.

Data thought she looked divine.


It was a wet, chilly walk back home.

Their boots squished with each step and Tasha wasn't looking forward to trying to dry her boots near the coal stove.

On their way back to the cottage, they made a detour into town. Data's audio receptors picked up on a disturbing noise.

The Parish Hall bell was ringing. According to the town charter (something Data and Tasha had both studied), the bell was only rung in emergencies.

They arrived to find the villages crowding around something on the ground. Someone was shouting for folks to step back and give them some room.

"What has occurred?" Data inquired to one of the villagers.

"Not sure," she replied.

"Fetch the physician!" Oswalt, the postmaster, hollered above the crowd.

"No time," another voice called out.

The resident physician lived in a cottage outside of the village.

Data and Tasha pushed their way through the crowd. They still didn't know what had happened. But it was clear someone needed help.

"Excuse me," Tasha said as she wove through the people. "We have field medical training. Can we help?"

There was a man lying on the ground, unconscious. He appeared to be middle aged and did not show any injuries or wounds.

"What happened?" Tasha asked as she knelt down next to him.

"He's dead," Oswalt informed her.

The man wasn't breathing. Tasha reached under his collar to feel for a pulse. There was nothing.

"Did anyone see what happened?" Tasha inquired.

She checked his mouth and confirmed his airway was clear. Next, she began to immediately administer chest compressions as she counted to herself.

"It has been approximately four minutes since we arrived," said a Vulcan man with an impressive moustache. "Doctor Applewhite was not breathing and had no pulse."

Data blinked. Doctor Applewhite had been the archaeologist they were planning to visit with inquiries about the cave.

"Out of the way!" a man called out as he pushed his way to the front of the crowd.

It was Doctor Clarke toting an emergency medical kit. As Tasha continued to administer chest compressions, Doctor Clarke examined Doctor Applewhite's condition.

After a quick assessment, Doctor Clarke grabbed Tasha's arm to stop her.

"He's gone," Clarke said.

Tasha sat back on her knees as she caught her breath.

Doctor Clarke shook his head.

"I don't know what happened," the Doctor admitted. "They'll conduct a thorough scan outside of the preserve. But it could have been cardiac arrest or an embolism. There's a number of possibilities but I can't scan for them here."

The technological limits of the historical preserve prevented the use of modern medical tricorders. Individuals travelled outside to the modern world whenever required for advanced medical care and routine scans.

Health emergencies like this were rare.

"But I just saw him – maybe ten minutes before this happened," Oswalt said in disbelief. "He came in to post a letter. Everything seemed fine."

Doctor Clarke sighed as he stood.

"Sometimes there's no warning," Clarke explained. "I did a physical with Doctor Applewhite last week. I ruled he was in perfect health. But sometimes these things just happen."

Data's eyes narrowed as he looked down at the body.

"Pardon me," Data said as he knelt down next to the deceased archaeologist.

"What on Earth are you doing?" Clarke snapped.

Data had lifted Doctor Applewhite's eyelids to examine his eyes. As Data had suspected, the eyes showed signs of petechiae. Applewhite's swollen lips had been the first clue.

Next, Data pulled back the Doctor's collar to discover bruising on his neck.

Data looked up at Tasha and grinned.

"Thank you," Data said.

Tasha blinked in confusion.

"You set up a real mystery for me," he went on.

Data gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"I do not know how you managed to create such a realistic and interactive holoprogramme in an open-air environment, but I am impressed," Data said.

Tasha had said she'd arranged for a series of surprises during the week.

But he hadn't seen such an event coming.

She'd managed to slip it in right under his nose. Data's mind was racing as he thought about the possibilities.

Had he already observed important clues?

Was their trip to the library intended to plant something specific?

Were the children involved?

Tasha shook her head. She could see his brain was going a lightyear a minute.

"Data-" she tried to say.

But Data ignored her.

Turning back to the crowd, he began to pace.

"Fetch the constable," Data ordered. "I believe you will find that this body shows evidence of strangulation."

Data stopped.

"This was no unfortunate medical accident," Data announced dramatically. "Doctor Applewhite was murdered."

A gasp went around the crowd. The villagers were horrified. Crime simply did not occur in the preserve – certainly not murder. To Data, the entire village was full of competent performers. Their shock and grief seemed incredibly genuine. He pondered, briefly, if their style of acting was 'the method' that he had begun to explore.

Data gripped Tasha's shoulders. He looked more excited than he had in ages.

"But not to fear. Sherlock Holmes is on the case," Data declared.

Tasha grimaced.

"Data, this is notthe time for Sherlock Holmes. Please," Tasha pleaded.

"But there is a mystery here and solve it we must!" Data said, doing his best to emulate Holmes's confidant attitude.

Tasha felt like she was going to be sick.

Everyone was staring at Data as he launched into a speech rambling on about needing to investigate the archaeologists' business dealings. He asked Oswalt to produce the letter that Applewhite had posted before his death.

"The game is afoot!" Data proclaimed with the wave of his hand.

Tasha knew she had to intervene before the situation spiralled even further out of control.

"Data," Tasha said in a voice loud enough to get his attention.

Data stopped immediately.

Data raised his eyebrows slowly as he observed the frightened crowd. They were all staring at him in disbelief.

For the first time in his life, Data truly did feel like Frankenstein's creature as he watched the crowd eyeing him sceptically.

Data's gaze fell to Tasha. She took hold of his hand to offer her reassurance.

"This isn't one of my surprises," Tasha said darkly.


The walk back home was quiet. Tasha tried to make conversation. To reassure Data that is OK. He didn't know. And she felt responsible for setting him up.

Data felt like the fault was his. He understood now why the villagers had seemed alarmed and confused by his reaction.

Data was mortified.

"Perhaps I am not as emotionally advanced as I previously thought?" Data commented as they walked along the road. "It would seem my programming has failed."

"Don't say that," Tasha replied. "It's actually quite human to misread a room."

Tasha didn't know what to say or do to make him feel better.

When they reached the farmhouse, Data asked Tasha to head on in. He wanted to put Clopper the horse down for the night by himself.

He wanted some time alone with someone that didn't pity him.

"I believe I would like to be alone for a while," Data confessed.

Tasha's brow wrinkled as she reached up and stroked the side of his face.

"I am not, as you would say, alright," Data shared with a heavy sigh.

"Data-" Tasha began to say.

"But I will be," Data said as he caught her hand. "I just need some time alone to…process."

Tasha nodded in understanding, but there was pain in her eyes.

"Can you please do something for me?" she asked.

Data cocked his head to the side.

"Will you check in with me in an hour?" Tasha inquired. "And if you still want to be alone after that, I understand. I just want you to check in, OK?"

She glanced around at the dark farmyard.

"It's lonely out here," she went on. "And you don't have to be alone."

Once he was around the backside of the house, Data slowly walked Clopper to the stable. After detaching his tack. Data set to work grooming Clopper and offering their equestrian companion some affection.

In a way, it was soothing.

It gave Data a chance to avoid conversation while still not being alone. It wasn't that he wanted to avoid Tasha. But he knew that she'd be watching him – even if they sat in silence.

Horses were complex creatures and they fascinated Data – and not simply because of his exobiology background. Like humans, horses had both individualistic traits, group dynamics, and intricate social skills.

He rested his head against Clopper's neck and pet him. There was something very reassuring about animal companionship.

"Goodnight, Clopper," Data said before departing.


Once inside the door, Data's eyes adjusted to the dim glow of the oil lamp on the table. He glanced over to the sitting room to find it was dark. Stepping up to the ladder, he observed it was entirely dark upstairs in the bedroom too.

The sound of water drew his attention down to the floor near the coal stove.

"Hey," Tasha said.

Data hopped off the ladder and knelt down next to her, studying the scene.

"Tasha, why are you sitting naked in the middle of the kitchen in a bucket?" Data asked.

Tasha chuckled.

"It's not a bucket," she replied. "It's a tub."

In Data's opinion, it wasn't a terribly large tub compared to what they were used to on the Enterprise. It was maybea metre wide and a little over a metre deep.

In his opinion, it did not look particularly comfortable.

Tasha had her knees pulled up to her chest and there appeared to be little room to move around. Tasha was resting her chin on her kneecaps. Other than her bony knees, the very edge of her shoulders was the only other thing poking out of the water.

"Sorry it's not big enough for two," Tasha apologised.

"It is not big enough for one," Data replied.

Tasha just laughed and shook her head.

"Why are you bathing in the kitchen?" Data asked.

"It's the warmest room in the house," Tasha responded. "Why else do you think they keep the tub in here?"

Data raised and lowered his eyebrows as he considered her argument. The kitchen truly was the warmest room in the whole house. And when the sun had dropped, the temperature had followed.

"Besides, the copper is in here and I wasn't going to haul all this water any further," Tasha added.

The copper was a large, antiquated device that provided hot water for the house. It was a heavy copper holding tank similar to a cauldron. It was surrounded by brick and built directly into the wall of the house. At the base was a woodfire that provided the heat.

Data could understand Tasha's desire not to haul the hot water around.

"What?" Tasha asked.

Data was staring at her – not quite smiling, but there was a hint of a curve to the corner of his mouth.

"Forgive me. I am reflecting on the fact that for all the numerous times I have theorised you being in such a state of undress, this was not one of those situations," Data admitted.

Tasha cocked an eyebrow at him.

"I think it is strangely charming," Data added bashfully.

"I think that my neural pathways have become accustomed to your sensory input," Tasha said with a grin.

She could see the wheels in his mind start to spin as he contemplated the meaning.

"Tasha, are you mocking me? Or was that a euphemism for-" Data started to clarify.

She shifted in the tub so that she could rest her hands and chin against the edge.

"You're a cute duck," she said. "Thatis teasing you."

She pressed a quick kiss to the tip of his nose.

"But there is nothing funny about your sensory input in my neural pathways," Tasha said with a wink, doing her best to channel Will Riker's signature cheesy charm.

Up until the wink, Tasha had managed to maintain a straight face. But her resolve cracked. She snorted before collapsing against the edge in a fit of giggles.

Data picked up a face flannel that was hanging over the edge and dipped it in the water. He wiped off Tasha's face and then returned it to the water.

Data stood up. He snagged the towel, pyjamas, and socks she'd folded neatly on the table.

"Well then," he said. "When your neural pathways are ready, I will be upstairs with my sensory input."

"Data?" Tasha asked as her eyes went wide.

"How silly of me," Data teased as he stopped to pick up the clothes she had worn earlier. "I shall add these to the laundry."

He turned and headed for the ladder, clutching her towels and every stitch of clothing she had brought down with her.

"Data! Data, I need those!" she called after him. "Data, come back!"


And come back he had.

Tasha had sunk back into the water, clutching her knees, and giving up all hope of climbing the ladder with any sense of dignity when Data emerged from above – clothes and towel included.

Sitting behind the tub, Data retrieved the flannel.

Tasha closed her eyes and relaxed as Data ran it over her shoulders. He dipped it back into the water once more before ringing it out over the nape of her neck.

The hot water was a welcome relief from the chill of the autumn air.

His lips soon followed, tracing each and every curve of Tasha's shoulders and the side of her neck.

"Data," Tasha said.

He shushed her.

"I am providing sensory input for your neural pathways," Data replied.

Tasha giggled.

"No giggling," Data teased in a commanding voice.

Tasha willingly allowed Data to guide her to lean back in the tub as washed her collarbone. He dropped the flannel on the edge of the tub in favour of massaging her temples.

Tasha groaned.

"I want to apologise for my behaviour earlier," Data said.

"Data," Tasha warned.

"Sincerely, I realise that-"

"Stop," Tasha insisted.

She sat up and turned around so she could look at Data properly.

"You have nothing to apologise for," Tasha assured him.

Tasha cupped his face.

"You are the most incredible person," Tasha said.

And she meant every word.

They sat in silence for a moment, holding each other's gaze. Data's lips hovered inches away from Tasha's mouth.

"Data," Tasha whispered.

"Yes?"

"Breathe," Tasha said.

She noticed his artificial respiratory system had ceased to function.

"I have a better idea," Data replied.

Data closed the distance between them and captured her lips. He reached for the back of Tasha's head, his fingers twisting into her wet hair.

"Ah," she hissed.

Data pulled her head down to the side, so he had better access to her neck. He nipped at the pulse point on her neck, his lips closing around it.

"I want you," Tasha murmured.

She couldn't recall feeling so aroused in a long time.

They enjoyed a healthy, fulfilling sex life. It was a part of their relationship and something that had always clicked between them since the start.

But tonight, Tasha had an almost primal need.

"Data," she growled.

Tasha pushed back against Data's chest.

"Get up," she ordered.

Data initially thought she was ordering him to stop. He froze and moved back.

Tasha stood up. Her skin was red from the hot water.

"Get up," Tasha repeated.

Data blinked, momentarily stunned by the sight of her very exposed and oh-so-kissable thighs that were eye-level.

His gaze travelled upward over the tattoo at her hip, past her navel, and over the curve of her breasts.

"Get up," Tasha said slowly.

Data didn't move.

Tasha stepped out of the tub, dripping on the floor without a care as she reached for Data's hands. Tasha pulled him to his feet with surprising strength.

Data cocked his head to the side.

"Would you like to go up-"

Data's voice jumped an octave as Tasha's hand caressed the inside of his thigh.

"I want you," she whispered.

Her breath was hot against his neck, her skin was warm from the water.

Tasha made quick work of the buttons on Data's waistcoat. Her hands were trembling. She couldn't strip them fast enough.

Data was so stunned by her desire that it took him a few seconds to process what was happening.

"Allow me," Data offered.

He could move his hands so fast they blurred. In less than a second, his waistcoat hung open. Tasha ran her hands up and over his shirt as she reached for the edge of the garment.

The back of Data's legs hit the edge of the table as Tasha stripped the waistcoat down over his shoulders. She tossed it aside.

Tasha felt overheated. It was the wonderful feeling of being completely exposed to the cold night air after a hot bath.

Data's bioplast was a few degrees cooler. But it was enough to be a noticeable difference in their body temperature and it felt nice against Tasha's hands.

She unbuttoned his undershirt but didn't bother to remove it. It had only been several days since they'd last made love, but Tasha ached for it.

Data gripped her backside.

In a flash, their situation was reversed, and Tasha found herself pressed against the table.

Data moved against her. His nose nuzzled against her face. His lips were just out of reach – close enough that Tasha could feel his breath hot and heavy against her face, but never making contact.

He traced the line of her jaw. Then his thumb brushed across her cheek.

"Please don't tease," Tasha said, clutching his wrist.

"I am not teasing. I am admiring," Data replied.

Tasha groaned – a mix of frustration and delight – as Data dove down to nip at the swell of her chest. Data's tongue darted out, laving over her stiff nipple before capturing her breast in his mouth.

His fingers brushed along her hip as he traced over the scar there.

Just as Tasha knew every seam of Data's body, he knew each and every scar and freckle. There were days where he wanted to do nothing more than study every inch of her body. Data was fascinated by the human form.

Each scar was a story, each freckle and tattoo a part of the fabric that made Tasha who she was.

Data paused to kiss the mole on the side of her torso.

Tasha clutched the back of his head, her fingers twisting into his hair in an effort to spur him on.

"Data, you're not in the lab," Tasha said.

"We are on vacation. I intend to take my time with you," Data replied as he nibbled at her collarbone.

Tasha grunted. She was beyond exasperated.

"Later. You can take all the time you want. Right now, I need you," Tasha pleaded.

"You have my undivided attention," Data said in his infuriatingly patient way.

Tasha could feel he was hard. His erection was tight against his trousers, pressing into her thigh.

But as she reached for him, Data caught her hand – stopping Tasha just short of her goal. He'd done it on purpose just to taunt her.

Data took immense satisfaction in knowing he could spark such intense emotions in another.

Especially her.

Tasha had leverage of her own and wasn't shy about using it.

When Data reached up to knead her breast, she pushed away his hand.

Data took a step back. Data ran his eyes down slowly over her body. Then he cocked his head to the side as he studied Tasha's expression.

He went to cup her face and she bat away his hand.

"Don't. Tease," Tasha said in a low voice.

She grabbed the waistband of his trousers and pulled him close.

"I'm tired. I'm cold. And I am so turned on right now," Tasha growled as she started to unfasten his pants. "My back is killing me."

Data hissed as she gripped his cock.

"I'm not in the mood to be toyed with," Tasha murmured as she stroked the length of him.

Data cupped her, his fingers teasing as they probed.

"Really?" he asked in disbelief.

Tasha whimpered as Data's fingers slipped in.

"You are so wet," he remarked.

"Mmm hmm," Tasha replied in a hazy voice.

She knew exactly how aroused she was. She'd felt it ever since she was in the bath – even before Data had come in.

"I want you," Tasha said.

She tightened her grip around his stiff cock as she circled her thumb over the head. It was done in the way that evoked the sweetest of noises from Data.

But try as he might to focus on his own desire, Data couldn't stop his mind from wandering. Tasha was in a highly aroused state – more so than usual.

Because of his sensory receptors and memory engrams, Data quite literally knew every detail of Tasha's physicality. He knew her average resting heart rate, her body temperature, even the way her pheromones tasted.

And Data could sense something had changed.

Data frowned.

"You are very wet," Data said.

"Mmm. I know. You do this to me," Tasha replied.

She whined when Data retracted his hand in order to study it. Even in the dim lighting from a sole lantern, Tasha could tell something was wrong.

Data was horrified.

Tasha squeezed her eyes shut. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment.

Of course.

Now it all made sense – the back pain, the insatiable appetite, the inexplicable arousal.

Tasha's cycle was so irregular that it was impossible to predict. It had been ever since her days at Starfleet Academy.

In the whole time Data and Tasha had been together, she'd only had her period once.

"I have injured you," Data said.

He was stunned. He had done nothing out of the ordinary.

And yet.

Data was always so cautious not to exert unnecessary force. Humans were delicate by comparison. Data's neural net constantly calculated the appropriate amount of strength necessary in order to avoid harming his friends.

And Tasha.

"I-I-I," he stammered, unable to find the words.

He looked up at Tasha. His eyes were full of panic.

Tasha bit her lip. She cringed inside.

"I'm fine," she said.

Only she sounded uncertain.

Data scanned the room for anything that might be of use. He grabbed the nearest clean linen. Before Tasha could stop him, he pressed it between her legs.

"Data? Data what are you-"

The sound was muffled as Data raced to get her dressed. After pulling a shirt down over Tasha's head, Data was worried it was taking too long.

It had only been a matter of seconds – but it was far too long for Data's liking.

He snagged a full sized towel and rolled Tasha up.

She protested as he scooped her up.

"Hold on. The village physician lives in a cottage outside of town," Data said, carrying her toward the door.

"Data, stop!" Tasha insisted.

Tasha scowled.

"Put me down," Tasha said.

Data was not pleased.

"I know that you are hesitant to seek medical attention but-"

"I don't need a doctor!" Tasha hissed.

For a few tense seconds they stared at one another. Well, Data stared with concern as Tasha glared up at him.

"I'm on my period, Data. It's perfectly natural. I'm not hurt," Tasha explained.

Data blinked slowly.

"Menstruation?" he asked to clarify.

Tasha nodded.

"Yeah," Tasha said.

She bit down on her thumb and averted her eyes to the wall.

"Gods, this is embarrassing," she muttered.

"Why?" Data asked.

His question was sincere.

Tasha shot him a look.

"I do not understand," Data confessed. "If this is a natural function of the human body, why do you feel ashamed?"

Tasha's shoulders slumped.

"I don't know. I just am. I think it's one of those things that we've been so accustomed to feeling bad about that-"

Tasha trailed off and shrugged.

Data visibly relaxed.

"I thought that I had-"

He stopped as Tasha pressed a finger to his lips.

"You could never hurt me," she assured him.

Data's eyes lit up.

"Do you wish to continue?" he asked.

Tasha hesitated.

She wanted to – badly.

She ached for Data. It had taken a few days for Tasha to feel comfortable enough and clean enough to want to have sex in their temporary lodgings. Bathing usually consisted of sponging down as it was an awful lot of work in their cottage.

And she didn't quite feel right getting down and dirty in someone else's home.

"It does not bother me," Data said, presuming that was the nature of her trepidation. "We have had sex during your period before."

He dropped his eyes to the wood floor before lifting his head.

"I rather enjoyed it," Data confessed with a bashful look.

It was a fond memory. Tasha had practically pounced on him. After dragging him into the shower, Data had taken her against the wall before Tasha dropped to her knees and taken him in her mouth.

She'd finished him with a satisfied smirk.

Then she'd polished off an entire damn cake.

Data was both confused and in awe.

"I seem to recall you were quite… enthusiastic," Data said with a smirk.

Tasha's face flushed.

She buried her head against Data's chest.

"Mmmm, I do want you," Tasha confessed.

She looped her fingers through Data's hands.

"But maybe it's best if we wait? Hmm?" Tasha suggested.

She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and then stepped away without another word. She was keen to try and salvage the linen. Tasha knew Data only thought he was trying to stop her bleeding – but it was likely ruined, nonetheless.

Tasha made a beeline for the table in the corner. She filled a bowl with cold water and immediately set to soaking the soiled linen.

"Tasha?" Data prompted.

He stepped up behind her and rested his hand on her shoulder.

"Look, if we were back on the Enterprise or I dunno… somewhere with a shower I'd jump you right now," she said.

She stopped and turned around.

"But this is someone's home. We're just borrowing it. And I don't want to ruin their bedding or their linens," Tasha explained.

She turned back to the bowl.

"For the record – this is why I keep dark grey towels," Tasha grumbled. "Who the hell decided everything should be white?"

Data caught her wrist.

He kissed the nape of Tasha's neck as his other hand snaked around her body and came to rest on her navel.

Tasha closed her eyes as his lips travelled over the back of her shoulders, along the side of her neck, and the spot just behind her ear.

"Data-"

"Shh," he urged.

Data pressed against her, his cock brushing against her backside.

"We do not need a shower," Data whispered.

Data's free hand guided Tasha down over the table. The surface was cool against her breasts.

Tasha gasped as he slipped in.

A moment later, Data followed her. His body was pressed against her back. Data reached for her hands, gripping them as he planted them on the table.

He moved slow at first. Dragging, deliberate thrusts as Tasha felt every inch of him glide to hit the spot that made her swoon.

She keened softly.

"Ah," she whimpered.

"So wet for me," Data purred as they moved together.

And she was. Tasha was ready. She wanted Data to fuck her senseless, to take her in a way that only he could.

"Baby, I don't want gentleness from you. Not tonight," Tasha urged.

Data paused.

"And I don't think you want to be gentle tonight," Tasha said, pressing her arse back against him.

She pushed Data's hands to her hips.

"Data," she pressed while arching her back.

He didn't need telling twice.

In the slew of sexual partners Data had taken during his lifetime, Tasha was one of the rare exceptions that actually cared about Data's happiness.

She wanted him to be satisfied.

And she was the only person that had ever allowed Data to take his fill.

Data stood up straight. He started to move a little faster but was still cautious about moving too quickly.

Tasha clenched around the length of him. She grabbed Data's hand that was resting on her thigh, wordlessly pleading for him to get on with it.

Data stood up straight. He rested his hand on Tasha's back as he plunged into her. Data closed his eyes and relished the feeling of being encased in the slick heat of her warm cunt.

Moments of intimacy, of being joined with another being – it reminded Data that he was something more than a machine.

He felt connected.

He felt like an animal.

Like a human.

An obscene noise filled the small kitchen as Data's bony hips slapped against Tasha's arse. With each thrust, her thighs hit the edge of the table while the table thumped against the wall.

Tasha reached out and grunted in frustration as her hands found nothing to grasp. She needed something to ground herself.

She pushed the bowl aside and flattened her body against the surface of the table.

Data slowed, concerned she was in pain.

"Don't stop," Tasha commanded.

A long, magnificent groan fell from her lips as Data thrust back into her. He resumed his earlier pace with more vigour, encouraged by her demand for more.

Data could feel his impending orgasm – but he wanted more.

Without warning, he pulled Tasha's body back flush against his own. His left hand clutched her throat just under her chin, forcing her to stand straight.

With his right hand, he kneaded her breast almost painfully.

"Is this what you wanted?" he growled.

"All of you," Tasha replied.

"All of me," he grunted in response, slamming hard against her.

Tasha cried out as he thrust again.

"All of me," he repeated in a low voice. "All of me. For you."

Gods. Tasha thought.

Data rested his head against her shoulder as he buried himself deep inside of her. She could sense he was close. He was losing his rhythm, his tempo became frantic.

Data's hips stuttered.

Tasha smirked as Data came – a wavering, almost bashful noise of pleasure escaping from deep in his throat as he spilled himself.

For a moment they stood like that. Neither of them spoke.

Data released his grip in favour of simply holding Tasha tight.

Data panted as his artificial cooling system worked to regulate itself. His power cell was beating hard inside his chest from the exertion.

Then he pressed a soft kiss to her temple.

Tasha felt a small sense of loss as he slipped out. She loved the feeling of fullness, the stretch that came from holding Data deep within her core.

But it didn't last for long.

He kept his sexuality programme engaged. His cock remained hard as he rubbed against her swollen clit. Where he had been fervent before, now Data was all tenderness and affection.

"Come for me," he whispered as he nuzzled against Tasha's neck.

Tasha let her head fall back as Data stroked her along to her own orgasm with the head of his cock.

She wanted to melt into his arms.

Tasha was incoherent as a series of soft, sweet noises slipped from her mouth.

"That is it," Data cooed. "Come for me, pretty girl."

A shudder rippled down Tasha's spine.

That hit in an unexpected way.

As Data whispered encouragement against her ear, Tasha let her head empty. There were no thoughts of back pain or stupid Academy reunions. She didn't even think about the chill in the air nor the spilled bowl on the floor at her feet.

Tasha focused all of her attention on Data's voice and his thick, glorious cock between her thighs.

Tasha squeezed her legs together as she shook apart.

"Yes. Come on my cock," Data said.

Tasha's body tensed from the stimulation, she gripped Data's hand to communicate that she couldn't take anymore.

Data stilled.

Without a word, he dropped to the floor. Data wrapped his arms around Tasha's legs and snuggled against her hip.

"So sweet. My love," he said in a voice so low it was barely decipherable.

He kissed the outside of her thigh, lingering there as he came back to the world. Data stayed in that spot as Tasha ran her fingers back through his hair.

She knew how important intimacy was after sex. For Data, it was everything.

"Come," Tasha said, reaching for his hand.

Data let her guide him to the nearest chair.

With great caution due to her state of undress, Tasha fetched a fresh bucket of hot water from the copper.

She grabbed a clean flannel and instructed Data to close his eyes.

He sat in a state of complete relaxation as Tasha set to work. She started with his face, delicately cleaning each cheek before turning her attention to his neck and shoulders.

After washing his chest, Tasha took his hands one by one – wiping each finger clean individually and then kissing the inside of his wrist.

The hot water felt wonderful on his bioplast as she cleaned the inside of his thighs and his cock – stopping to kiss it before moving on to his calves.

With tender affection, Tasha even cleaned each of Data's toes.

Data's neural net fluttered when she kissed the back of them, grinning like a cheeky minx at making him feel so loved.

He felt thoroughly spent.

And adored.

After cleaning herself up, Tasha slipped away to fetch her menstrual cup from her go bag. Given the irregularity of her cycle, she always came prepared.

She came down the ladder sporting the ridiculous wholly combination union suit pyjamas that Data had come to love – along with wildly askew hair and a rosy glow.

"What?" Tasha asked, noting Data's coy smile.

"Thoroughly sexed," Data said.

"What?" Tasha repeated.

"You," Data said as he took in her appearance.

He paused, making a show of looking her up and down.

"I believe the word 'ravaged' would be apropos," Data explained.

"Oh… yeah," Tasha replied.

She averted her eyes and blushed, biting her lip in the way that drove Data wild as she smoothed her hair.

Data reached for Tasha, pulling her into his lap.

"No, no. I like it," he said.

Data ruffled her hair, teasing it with his fingers as he smiled.

"There," Data said, satisfied with his work.

Tasha chuckled.

"Did you enjoy what I said to you? Was it pleasing?" Data asked.

Tasha felt warm. She couldn't help but smile – providing Data all the evidence he needed that some of his new material had indeed hit the right note.

"I have often found it pleasurable when you say such things to me," Data said. "I thought perhaps you might enjoy it as well."

"I did," Tasha confessed.

It had felt good to relinquish control to Data in a small way.

"It felt a little naughty. A little forbidden. But I liked it," Tasha assured him.

Data swelled with pride.

"My little sex kitten," he murmured.

"Don't push it," Tasha replied as she rested her forehead against his own.

She sighed.

"Gods, I wish we'd brought cake. Or more food," she said. "I could murder a basket of chips right now."


Hours later, Data awoke in total darkness. Tasha was shivering next to him.

"Tasha?" he asked.

"I'm fine. Don't get up," she said.

She snaked her arms around him and nestled in under the blankets against his body.

"I forgot to add fuel to the stove before we went to sleep. It went out," she explained through chattering teeth. "It should kick up again in about an hour."

Tasha had awoken ten minutes earlier to find the stove had gone out. The room was freezing. After summoning the courage to put her icy feet on the cold, wooden floor. Tasha had quietly padded over to the stove to get it going again.

Data frowned.

"You mean, you got out of bed and came back?" Data inquired.

"Uh huh," Tasha replied.

He was confused. Any activity on her part or noise shouldhave disturbed him from his rest programme.

Yet, it hadn't roused him.

Tasha could be sneaky. But no one was thatsneaky.

"But I did not wake," Data pondered aloud.

"Maybe you're just feeling very relaxed?" Tasha suggested. "You neededrest."

After their romp earlier, they were both in need of some sound sleep.

"But Tasha, I have no biological need-" Data protested.

"Ah! Yes, you do," Tasha insisted. "Even if it's not exactly the same, it still serves the same function. Everyoneneeds to rest their brain now and again and-"

She stopped talking and inhaled sharply.

Tasha keened softly as warmth started to emanate from Data's body.

"I have temporarily overridden my coolant system parameters," Data explained.

While it wasn't a ton of heat, it was more than enough to begin the thawing process on her frozen extremities. Tasha's fingers and toes prickled, stinging as the feeling began to return.

"Isn't that dangerous?" she remarked.

It felt wonderful – especially for her cramps. But she certainly wasn't going to enjoy the feeling if it put Data in danger.

"Won't that harm you?" Tasha inquired.

"After a few hours, yes," Data admitted. "But it is safe for the time being. I will return my coolant system to the appropriate parameters after the room has returned to a safe level."

"But Data, I don't want you-" she began to say.

"Go to sleep," Data said with an air of finality.

Tasha chuckled softly, nuzzling against his torso before yawning. She felt silent and a few moments later, Data could detect the subtle change in her breathing that signalled she had fallen asleep.

As he sat there in the dark waiting for the coal stove in the corner to heat the room, he contemplated the mysterious death earlier in the village. A part of Data longed to explore it further, to put his Holmesian detective skills to work in a practical application.

You are on holiday.Data reminded himself.

Besides, Data realised he had more important things to focus on.

"Goodnight, my love," he whispered.


Data and Tasha headed out to the pond the next day.

On their way there, they passed through a field of sheep.

Data recalled skimming through a book on local wildlife at the library. It seemed that in winter, the local farmers would often find themselves spending hours digging their flocks out of drifting snow.

Though beautiful, the landscape was bitter.

When they reached the pond, Tasha helped Data lay out a blanket. She headed off for the pond itself to check her eel trap and get in a bit of time with her rod and reel while Data was content to sit and sketch.

He carefully pulled out his sketchbook and pastel set and paused as he scanned the landscape.

For nearly three minutes he sat motionless.

It wasn't a lack of inspiration.

The only problem Data had was in choosing where to start.

In the end, Data decided on sketching a larger landscape first.

With inhuman speed and skill, Data put chalk to paper – capturing the tranquillity of the area as best he could. He was eager to complete a number of sketches, so he didn't waste time perfecting it. He could worry about filling in some of the more intricate details later.

As Tasha patiently waited on the surface of the water, Data worked his way through a number of sketches – a Kingfisher in one of the barren trees, a nearby limestone pavement, and a still-life of a fairy flax growing next to their blanket with its small white petals in contrast to the muted browning grass that surrounded it.


Around noon, Tasha came back up from the lake. To Data's surprise, she had her basket in tow.

"Did you catch anything?" he inquired.

Tasha nodded, utterly giddy.

She plopped down on her knees with the basket and grabbed a large bucket with some water that she had brought along. She opened the end of the basket. To Data's surprise not one, but two eels slipped out into the bottom.

They were relatively small – only about sixty centimetres.

Tasha wet two cloths. In one, she wrapped one of the eels up. She threw the other over the bucket and then balanced a long, flat board on top of it.

"I'll be right back," she assured Data.

Tasha carried the eel wrapped in the wet cloth back down to the pond and released it.

When she came back, Data was peeking under the cloth at the remaining eel.

"Careful, they're master escape artists," Tasha warned.

Data nodded and returned the board to the top of the bucket.

"You did not want both of them?" Data inquired.

"Only have a permit for one," she said as she held up one finger.

"I see!" Data said. "To ensure that the population is sustainably harvested."

Tasha nodded.

She flopped back on the blanket and tucked her arms behind her head.

"I don't care if it takes fifty years," Tasha said. "I want to come back here. And I want to be able to go fishing then too."

She rolled onto her side and looked up at Data expectantly.

"I want to come back here with you, Data," Tasha said, reaching out to caress his knee.

"I would like that as well," Data replied.

Tasha beamed.

The weather was unseasonably warm for late autumn, and it felt good on her skin. Tasha closed her eyes and let her body soak in the rays of the sun. According to her research, days like this were unusual for the weather this time of the year.

Tasha didn't want to waste it all with fishing – not when it felt too blissful to relax under the sun.

Tasha had originally come back up from the pond for lunch. But she wasn't feeling terribly hungry at the moment.

"Would you like me to get lunch out?" Data asked.

"If you want it, go ahead," Tasha replied as she stared up at the clouds. "I'll eat something in a bit."

Outside of the holodeck, clouds were a rarity. Tasha had seen all sorts of clouds on various planets – iridescent green clouds on Tucalian VI, grey and purple clouds that brought a beautiful, yet toxic rain, on a little planet called Ender's Point, and sandstone red clouds on Deneb IV.

Turkana had clouds too.

But they were mostly storm clouds in the rainy season or the persistent smog that lingered around the few remaining cities as their industrial districts churned out thick, dark smoke. Factories in both Coalition and Alliance held cities produced munitions and armour. Factory workers shovelled coal and peat into large furnaces twenty-seven hours a day, stoking the fires of Turkana's long-standing civil war.

Here, with its blue skies and fluffy, white clouds, it was like being a world away.

Or several hundred.Tasha mused to herself.

Tasha reached for the basket. Her hand rummaged around until it closed on one of the sandwiches she'd wrapped in waxed paper.

"There's pickle and cheese, egg, or tomato," Tasha explained.

After demolishing a few pieces, she rolled on her back and closed her eyes.

"Is it your intention to take a nap?" Data asked. "Would you like me to wake you at a certain time?"

"No, I'm just resting my eyes for a minute," Tasha replied.

While Tasha was content to lounge on the blanket, Data finished his sketch of the fairy flax.

Data glanced around as he tried to select his next target.

Tasha sighed and rolled toward him, using her arm as a pillow as she lounged in the warm air.

Data cocked his head to the side as he weighed his decision.

Tasha had always expressed that she wasn't comfortable with Data painting her portrait. It wasn't that she didn't want to be the subject of his art – his offer was flattering.

But Tasha had always carried a sense of self-consciousness that she just couldn't' shake.

However, this technically wasn't a painting. And Data would never show it to anyone else.

After careful consideration, Data set to work.

Data longed to sketch her bathed in the warm afterglow of sex – the way she'd looked the night before. But he was happy to settle for Tasha in the sun.

His charcoal danced across the sketchpad in one slick motion as he sketched the line of her figure. Next, he carefully drew the curve of her face. He used his finger to smudge the shadows where the cloth on her trousers and waistcoat was wrinkled from her current angle.

But instead of the sketch reflecting her current closed eyes and face of rest, Data decided to take some artistic licence and draw her smiling instead. He had long wanted to capture her smile, the very essence of her energy, on canvas.

Data thought it sparkled.

And while he still didn't know where his emotional responses were coming from or how they originated, Data knew that her smile made him feelloved.

Unlike his other sketches, Data took his time with this. He knew that it would be his only opportunity to work on such a piece.

It stung to know he would need to tuck it away somewhere private.

"What are you working on now?" Tasha asked.

Data froze.

Fortunately, she did not open her eyes.

"A sketch of a lifeform on the landscape," Data replied.

It wasn't a lie. Regardless, Data still didn't feel great about withholding information.

"Can I see it?" Tasha asked.

She still hadn't moved or opened her eyes.

"Of course, I was just about to take a break," Data replied.

"Oh! What do you want?" Tasha said as she sat up and began rifling through their supplies.

Data used the moment to quickly flip back to one of his earlier sketches of the kingfisher.

"Data?" Tasha pressed.

"Tomato," he replied quickly.

"Here," Tasha said as she handed it to him. "I packed some pears too if you'd like?"

Data shook his head.

Tasha grabbed a pear for herself and then snuggled in next to him to look at the sketch.

"Wow," she said, breathless.

His sketch of the kingfisher showed it perched on one of the barren branches. The brilliant blue of its feathers stood in stark contrast to the bleak autumnal palette of the rest of the landscape.

"That blue," Tasha said as she took a bite out of the pear. "She's beautiful."

"Yes. She is," Data replied.

Tasha narrowed her eyes. Data was staring at her, eyeing her with a strange look.

"What?" she asked.

Data didn't respond verbally. He threw his arm around Tasha and pressed a slow kiss to the top of her head.


They left the pond in good spirits.

Tasha looped her fingers through Data's hands as the trekked back across the dirt road to their temporary lodgings.

"Come, we're going to bake a pie," Tasha said, pulling him along.

Data cocked his head to the side.

"Tasha, is this a euphemism for sexual intercourse?" Data inquired.

She giggled.

"No. Well, it wasn't meant to be. That is to say, I'm not rejecting the idea - I just really want pie," Tasha confessed.