The Hubbert Peak – Part I

Continuity Note: This piece takes place in the month between "Sub Rosa" and "Lower Decks."
Content Warning: There is some reasonably explicit sex in the opening section of this chapter.

Stardate 47508.73
(Sunday, 5 July 2370, 16:32 hours ship's time)
C/S Velestus Starliner

Leaving the Enterprise to return to Earth was never my favorite thing, but on this trip Data had insisted that we treat it like the vacation it was, and not merely a really long ride back to school. For that reason, and because we were headed to Atrea to spend time with Juliana and Pran Tainer, we'd booked passage on a commercial starliner.

"Is it weird that I'm comforted by the fact that our transport to Atrea is a Centauran ship?" I asked, as we settled into our cabin.

Data looked over his shoulder at me while stowing our hand luggage in the closet. "You do not typically bring up your Centauran citizenship, but it is your birthplace, and the planet you consider to be home, and as such, it is not abnormal for you to perceive an affinity with a ship of that registry."

I nod and go back to my chosen task: reading about the amenities and features of our cabin specifically, and the ship in general. "Hey Data, did you know these rooms are soundproofed?"

"I did." He was silent for a few seconds, and then he said, "I would be remiss if I did not ask why you feel the need for comfort? We will have twenty days together before we separate, and even then, it is, as you know, only temporary."

"Four months is still three and a half months too long," I grumbled. "But I wasn't even thinking about that. I know that I'll be busy, and that school and friends and music and theater will keep me at least somewhat distracted. It's… your mother."

"I was under the impression that you and Juliana had formed the beginning of a friendship," he said, "or at least come to a sort of… detente."

"Oh, we did. We've even started exchanging letters. But we're visiting her home and that'll change everything. On the Enterprise, I had home-court advantage."

"Perhaps," Data suggested in his 'reasoning' tone, "if you refrained from treating your relationship with my mother as a competition or a battle, you would feel less anxious about spending time with her."

I can't help the glare I shoot at him, "Have I mentioned lately how much I hate it that you're right all the time?"

"Not lately, no," he answers, keeping his facial expression and vocal tone neutral. "There is a passenger orientation meeting in approximately fifteen minutes. Do you wish to change your clothing or use the facilities before we depart?"

I glanced down at the dress I was wearing. It was a black tank mini-dress with a skirt just full enough to twirl - perfect for day-to-night versatility on a starliner, especially with the pink pearls I was also wearing. "I'm good," I said, hopping from the bed onto the floor. Feeling a little flirtatious – we were on vacation, after all - I invaded Data's personal space and looked up at him. "I'd be better if you kissed me."

Data was never one to begrudge me a kiss, and since he began experiencing desire, he'd also become eager to initiate physical contact. He rested his left hand on my waist and drew me closer, so that there was no space at all between our bodies. His lips touched mine, gently at first, and then with more demand. I opened my mouth to him, meeting his tongue with mine, but it was only a second or two before he pulled away.

"As much as I would prefer to remain in this room with you, dearest, attendance at the orientation is required." His tone was positively seductive.

"I know, I know," I said. Then I asked, "But after?"

"It is a promise," he said as he opened the door and gestured for me to precede him into the corridor. He placed his hand on my back as we walked, using the time to remark in a soft tone, "The passenger suites are soundproofed, and Spot is not here to interrupt us. I have several techniques I would like to try that I believe will enhance your pleasure."

The last word coincided with the arrival of the turbo-lift, the car full of other passengers, and there was nothing I could say that wouldn't be inappropriate, so I settled for responding with a look. His hand, I noticed, never left my skin.

In fact, throughout the afternoon and evening – the orientation, drinks afterward, and dinner at the Captain's Table following that – my partner seems to go out of his way to touch me – brushing hair out of my face, stroking my arm as we talked, and even caressing my thigh under the table. When his hand began to creep higher than my thigh, though, and his little finger tweaked the edge of my underwear, I started, and my spoon plummeted to the floor.

Embarrassed and aroused, I bent to pick it up, using the time to ask, as quietly as I could, "Data, are you alright? What the hell are you doing?"

In a whispered deadpan only an android can master, he answers, "I believe it is called 'foreplay.' Do you wish me to stop?"

Did I? Perhaps I should have, but I didn't. I shook my head, deciding to join him in his unexpected game. A bit later, when I reached for the napkin in my lap, I pressed on the hand that was still dangerously close to my sex. How I made it through the rest of the meal, I will never know. By mutual, though unspoken, agreement, we declined the invitation for a nightcap with our tablemates and returned to our cabin.

(=A=)

When we were back in our room, I couldn't help it. I pressed myself against my fiancé and slid my hands beneath the layers of this uniform to reach his skin. As always, he wasn't cold, but his skin was cooler than my own, refreshingly so.

We shared a kiss, and then I pulled back a little so I could meet his eyes. "I ought to be asking you if something is wrong," I said, "because almost fingering me in public is definitely not typical behavior, but I have to admit, I liked the controlled naughtiness of what you were doing."

Data blinked several times before he responded. "I do not believe I am 'in control' tonight, Zoe."

That disturbed me. "Data," I asked with concern in my voice. "Is something wrong?"

But I didn't get a yes or no from him. Instead, he said "I do not believe I want to be in control."

I barely had time to breathe before his lips met mine again, but while it began as the tender, sweet press of his mouth on mine that is usual for us, it morphed into something more, something demanding. His tongue invaded my mouth and danced with mine, until I had to clutch at him in a silent reminder that breathing was, in fact, necessary for me. Still my pulse was racing when he gave me a moment to rest.

But it was only a moment. His hands moved to slide the straps of my dress off of my shoulders, then grasped the top of the bodice just over my breasts. I expected him to peel my dress off and was startled when he ripped the fabric instead. Another time, I'd have teased him about owing me a shopping trip to replace the garment, but he repeated the process on my bra, ripping it in half and casting the pieces to the floor, even as he was dropping to his knees in front of me.

I wasn't sure what, precisely, was going through Data's mind, but I was willing – eager – to follow his lead. My fingers twisted into his hair, and I tugged, experiencing an odd sense of satisfaction when his own respiration increased. I wondered if he found the stimulation of his scalp as pleasurable as I did and resolved to ask him… later.

He took his time with my breasts, licking, sucking, grazing each nipple with his teeth. I shivered against him – it felt so good! – and leaned into the pressure. "Ohhh, Data…" I murmured, but I wasn't really coherent enough for complete sentences.

When his hands traveled down my sides to my hips I was pretty certain my panties would follow the same fate as my bra. His mouth was still on my breast as he ripped the lace away from my body, then placed his hand where the fuchsia fabric had been.

He brought me to climax with his finger and thumb – "So good… so close…Data… I can't stand…" and when my knees buckled he was there to catch me. I panted for several seconds, catching my breath. "God, Data…" I began, but I had no words.

My partner didn't respond with his typical comeback but said, "Goddess." Still holding me, he added, "We are not yet finished."

He lifted me into his arms, and I was anticipating a relocation to the bed, but instead he braced my back against the great window that showed the flickering light of the starliner's warp bubble. The shimmering colors played over my skin making it seem as if I was under water, I thought. Data must've had the same realization because he whispered, "My mermaid," and then proceeded to take me up against the transparent surface the same way he'd once done in my apartment on Earth… or the mirror in our quarters when Lore had –. No! I stopped the thought. I will not give him any more space in my head.

He nibbled at my neck as his sex moved inside mine, and I asked him, "Bite me." He pressed his teeth to the place where my neck and shoulder met, and I moaned. "Mark me," I asked.

And everything stopped.

"I am sorry," he said, supporting my weight as he moved to sit on the low, cushioned bench in front of the window. "I… cannot."

"You've marked me before," I said. "And you were discomfited then, as well. But then Lore was feeding you dark emotions – anger, hatred, lust… " I paused mid-sentence as everything he'd been doing all day finally connected in my head. "You're feeling lust tonight, aren't you? You've been feeling it all day."

"I cannot want these things," he insisted. "I cannot wish to see evidence of my… lust… on your skin."

"Love bites aren't 'evidence of lust,'" I argued. "They're proof of trust, and of love, and of passion. You literally ripped my clothes off a few minutes ago – "

Data cut me off. "That was not me."

"It sure felt like you," I snarked. Then I sighed. "I knew this conversation was coming, but I didn't expect to be having it while sitting naked in the cabin of an interstellar cruise ship."

"Would you like me to retrieve the robes from the bathroom?"

I shook my head. "Thank you, but no. I think… I think if we're going to have this conversation staying naked is a good start. No hiding, not for either of us." I was quiet for a few seconds, trying to figure out what to say. Then I challenged him, "Look at me. What do you see?"

I expected a literal answer. Instead, he said, "I do not understand."

"Data, please don't do that."

"Zoe?"

"When you say, 'I do not understand,' about half the time, you really don't understand, but sometimes you use it when you're… playing android."

He raised his eyebrows in the way that meant he was perplexed.. "I am an android."

"You are," I agreed. "But you're not a robot. That phrase… sometimes you use it when someone has asked a question or made a statement that you find offensive. And sometimes, when someone has said something hurtful to you, you do this thing where it's like you're pulling all of your essence back inside yourself, like a turtle hiding in its shell. Because if you're just an android, then nothing can hurt or offend you."

"I do not understand how that relates to me experiencing lust."

"Don't you?" I smiled softly. "You feel love for me. You feel desire for me. Don't you?"

"I do."

"And you've felt lust for me before."

"But that was sent by Lore."

"Was it? Was it sent or was it triggered? Everything I learned from Bruce's book and Whiskers's class, and everything you and Geordi have told me says that a neural net can't be programmed, that it has to grow, just like an organic brain."

"That is true, but…"

I pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "Let me finish?" After his confirming nod, I removed my finger and continued. "So, if that's true, then the emotions you're starting to feel – and the ones you've probably always had but either not recognized or not allowed – those are part of you. Lore couldn't have created lust in your head – he could only trigger what was already there." I paused, and when I spoke again, my tone was wry, "You might say he knew how to push your buttons."

"Love is an… innate… emotion for me. Desire is as well," Data said. "Lust cannot be mine."

"Why? Because there's an element of violence? Data, pleasure and pain exist really close together in the human brain – I'm sure you know this – and the kind of pain involved in lustful sex – it's momentary and heightens the pleasure. It may be pain, but it's not injury. And it isn't even about pain. It's about letting go of your control, and letting things happen. When you – " I took a moment to find the correct phrasing. "When you fucked me in the mirror over Christmas – there wasn't any pain in that. Just excitement – it felt so good, and I didn't know what your next move was going to be."

As if he were considering what I'd said, Data shared, "What you are suggesting is plausible, Zoe, except that when I felt lust – when I feel lust – it overrides my ethical subroutine."

"I've been thinking about that, too," I confessed. He tilted his head at me, and I made a face at him. "Like I said, I knew this conversation was coming. Probably we should have talked it through to resolution then… but neither of us were our best selves."

"No," Data agreed, "we were not."

"Anyway, I have a theory that your ethical subroutine is overridden by lust on purpose, to protect your programming from causing conflicts. Acting on lust means relying on implied consent, and it includes elements of risk and play. It makes sense that your ethical programming would object to that, so taking it offline is a failsafe. Kind of like when you choose to override the safety protocols on the holodeck.."

"You believe I have a defense mechanism." Data said softly. "Technically, you believe I have two: one is when I 'play android' and the other involves my ethical subroutine being disengaged. Intriguing."

I laughed softly. "That's one word for it."

"When I… fucked you… in the mirror, you enjoyed the experience," he stated. "Your enjoyment did not end when I –"

" – bit me." I finished for him. "No, because I wanted you to. It was a love bite; it was formed from trust and pleasure, as I said. And you've known that part of my neck is an erogenous zone for me for years. But you were embarrassed. It's like you don't want people to think of you as a sexual being. But you are one, and you keep telling me that you like this aspect of our relationship."

"I do."

"You liked it, seeing us in the mirror, didn't you? "

"It was… a particularly stimulating encounter."

I captured his gaze with my own and held it. "I liked it when you were forceful," I said. "I liked it at Christmas, and I loved it just now. Even when you got a little rough – ripping my clothes off. I trusted you – I trust you to be able to take me to those places without going too far. But I need you to trust yourself, Data, and more than that… more than that, I need you to accept that that level of passion is part of you."

"I still am not certain of that," he replied. "Lore did trigger those initial bursts of lust."

"He did," I agreed. "But you chose what to do with them. You didn't assault some random ensign in the turbo-lift. You didn't lock yourself in your lab and try to rewrite your own code or invent a sonic vibrator to force release. You came home to me. You trusted me with that part of yourself."

Data took a full minute to process what I'd just pointed out. "You enjoyed my lack of control. You did not reject my need or my desire but matched it with your own. You did not reject me."

"And I never will," I promised fervently. "You said once that our relationship was a safe space for you to explore different forms of social and personal interaction. It doesn't get much more personal than this."

"I… cannot dispute that."

"You shouldn't want to. I mean… that time in the bathroom, you probably would have fucked me into blissful unconsciousness at some point if you hadn't stopped, but during – I wasn't afraid of you, I was excited for us, and tonight was more of the same. You weren't being too rough or demanding anything I wasn't willing to give, but it was just as thrilling because it was coming from you."

"Zoe…"

"You've grown beyond the need to have an ethical subroutine dictate every nuance of right and wrong, Data. It's not wrong to act on lust with a willing partner, it's just part of being in a relationship. It's not wrong to explore that point where pleasure and pain overlap, as long as everyone consents." I half-turned on the bench and slipped my hands into his, bringing them to my mouth and kissing first the back of each, and then the palms. "These hands that have soothed away wounds, caressed every centimeter of my skin, and teased my body into arousal and satisfaction – they are my hands, and I know they will never harm me."

"Zoe…" he repeated my name.

I leaned closer to meet his lips in a kiss and letting it deepen as he'd done before. Our mouths were still almost touching when I said, "These lips, tongue, and teeth have tasted every part of me, and while might cause a delicious sting of momentary pain, they would never hurt me. This is my mouth."

"Zoe…" he called my name a third time, but I moved to straddle him, kissing my way from his mouth to his neck, licking it the same way he did to me, and nipping the skin. His was impervious to a human bite, of course, but even so…

"Zoe!"

I looked at him, all innocence.

"I want…"

"What, love? What do you want?"

Abruptly, he rolled us off the bench and onto the floor in front of the window, so I was beneath him. He dove into me the way I loved to plunge into water. Lips, teeth, tongue, hands, he began a loving, demanding, relentless cataloguing of every centimeter of my body. He slid down to find my sex with his mouth, brought me nearly to completion, then turned his head to suckle on my inner thigh.

I'm as sensitive there as I am on my neck, and I felt my muscles tensing beneath him as my toes curled and flexed. He nipped me there the way I'd just done to his neck, and I nearly screamed, "Data!" I wanted him to bit me there, but I was afraid to speak the request aloud – I didn't want everything to stop. He seemed to understand what I didn't say though because he paused and lifted his head.

Zoe… I want…"

"Do it…"

His teeth closed on my flesh as he bit and sucked, marking me in a way that would require the use of a dermal regenerator if I didn't want it to heal naturally. I wondered if Data knew I wouldn't ask.

I heard my own voice, coming in staccato bursts between panted breaths. "God… Data… so good… need you… inside."

As he repositioned himself so that he could meet my needs, I heard him utter that single word again, "Goddess…"

I screamed when I reached climax and felt Data's release.

We stayed on the floor for - I don't know how long – until I began to feel stiff and cold. Data carried me to the bed and let me sleep, but I could feel him watching me, and I smiled at the thought.

The rest of the night, and most of the next morning, was spent mostly in bed, with a few bathroom breaks for me. When I was finally awake enough to face the day, we'd missed breakfast. Data brought me coffee, fruit, and yogurt from the in-room replicator and sat on the bed while I ate.

Eventually, he asked, "Are you alright?"

I smiled at him. "I feel amazing… how about you?"

"I am… " he hesitated, as if he were sorting and discarding possible responses. "I am well."

I laughed at that, but then I felt the distinctive telepathic tickle of pleasure and amusement from outside myself. "Oh, no."

"Zoe?"

"You know how you made a point of telling me the cabin is soundproofed?"

"I recall."

"Did you happen to notice if it's got a built-in telepathic dampener? Because you fucked the shields right out of my brain last night."

"You are sensing the reactions of the other passengers." It was not a question.

"I am," I said. I cast out my senses, then added, "But… " I felt myself blushing. "…what I'm really sensing is an overall… satisfaction."

Data raised both of his eyebrows and simply said, "Indeed."

We didn't know then, and wouldn't find out until years later, that a lot of babies were conceived during our voyage on the Velestus. Once I'd learned about it, I took special pleasure in sending each birth announcement to Data reminding him of what he'd done.

And every time he responded smugly, " And you enjoyed every second of it."

(=A=)

Stardate 47518.60
(Thursday, 9 July 2370, 7:00 AM local time)
Atrea Transit Hub

Spaceports, like the airports that came before them, tend to reflect the local architecture and art of whatever planet played host. Unlike space stations, these were civilian run, though if they were in Federation space, they usually had a Starfleet unit assigned. The spaceport we entered after leaving the Velestus was bright and airy and featured many structures that seemed to be constructed from patterned wood. The overall effect was both welcoming and slightly nautical, even though we were nowhere near a coastline.

Or so Data informed me as we went through the process of clearing customs and acquiring our rental flitter. He also told me that it was the primary transit hub for the whole planet, not just for interstellar travel.

"I wasn't expecting to see so much wood. Everything on Earth and Centaurus is glass and metal."

"I agree. I am curious to see other examples of Atrean design."

"Well, it's an hour to your mother's house, isn't it? Maybe we'll have a chance."

"That is very likely."

"I don't suppose we could find a coffee place on the way?"

"I will endeavor to do so, dearest, although you had two cups of coffee before we left the ship this morning. Is it possible you are hoping to delay our arrival at the Tainer home?"

I sighed. "You know me too well. I'm nervous, that's all."

"I am certain you will be welcomed in my mother's home," Data soothed.

"You could have come without me, you know. Gotten in some one-on-one bonding time."

"That is true," he replied. We'd made it to the flitter lot by then, and he used the provided access code to open the door of the model we'd chosen. As he loaded our luggage into the cargo bay, Data confessed. "I considered an itinerary where I would leave you on Earth first and come here on my way back to the Enterprise but determined that your presence would be beneficial to me."

"So, what you're saying is…?"

"I am still somewhat uncertain of how I 'feel' about my mother's actions with regard to leaving me behind and never attempting contact."

I touched his shoulder, and he turned to face me. I kissed him quickly. "I guess we just have to manage this visit together."

"Indubitably," he said. He closed the cargo door and gestured for me to take my place in the front passenger seat. "We will never 'manage' if we do not first arrive there."

I mock-grimaced at him but climbed into my seat without further grumbling. Halfway through the trip, Data diverted from the direct route so I could get the coffee I'd asked about.

"Now who's delaying?" I asked.

"I am not delaying. I am merely ensuring that you are properly caffeinated before our arrival."

I laughed. "Drive on, love. I promise to be all sweetness and light for our entire time here."

Data resumed our journey, but not without giving me a look that telegraphed his disbelief in my statement.

If I was squirming in my seat it was only because of the lingering love-bite on my inner thigh and not because I didn't believe me, either… right?

(=A=)

An hour and a half later, we'd been welcomed into the Tainer home, ushered into the guest suite that we'd be staying in for the next ten days, and given time to unpack and freshen up before brunch. My shields felt a little wobbly – probably because I was nervous – so I told Data to go spend time with his mother while I took a nap.

"You cannot 'read' either my mother or myself," Data reminded me. "And I do not believe Pran's thoughts will intrude upon yours. If you wish some alone-time, I do not require that you make an excuse."

"I know you don't. But I am feeling a bit mushy, and I really would like to close my eyes for an hour or so."

"Very well," he said. "I will wake you when it is time for our meal."

I gave him a grateful kiss. "Thank you." He left the room, and I took my shoes off and moved to the bed to rest for a bit. It turned out that I didn't need to be woken up, however, because after half an hour of quiet time, I felt better enough to be social.

Leaving the room Data and I had been given, I followed the sound of voices and the scent of coffee down the stairs, through the great room to the kitchen and dining area.

"It's our new project," I heard Juliana explaining to Data. They were seated at a bistro table under a skylight, while Pran was assembling a late lunch of local fruits, cheeses, vegetables and dip, and coffee. "It isn't emergent yet, but eventually we will face a severe lack."

"Recrystallization has been successful at extending the life of dilithium crystals," Data pointed out.

"But those reconstituted crystals are less robust than new crystals," Juliana countered.

"That is true," Data said. "The Enterprise hosts researchers exploring alternative power quite frequently," he added. "Recently we assisted in an early trial of Soliton Wave technology."
Pran snorted. "And how did that work out? I know Ja'dar. Big ideas but not skilled with execution."

"Personally, I thought the idea was cool. A surfing starship? Epic!" I announced as I went all the way into the room. "Data thinks my reaction has more to do with my surfing hobby than any real technical knowledge though," I added.

"I never cast any aspersions on your comprehension of the concept," Data said.

I stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Maybe not in your out-loud voice…" I teased, but I let the thought trail off. "Thank you all for letting me rest," I said. "Please don't let me completely derail the conversation."
"You interrupted nothing, Zoe," Juliana said warmly. "We were about to have a light meal, and I was going to send Data to wake you, before we got sidetracked with shop talk."
Another snort from Pran, this time with a touch of amusement., before he said, "He was certain that the scent of coffee would lure you down."

"Data has this annoying habit of being right all the time," I said cheerfully. "But yes, coffee always captures my attention."
"Then join us at the table, and help yourself," Juliana said. "We don't eat supper until late, after it cools down outside. I hope this is enough?"
I took the chair across from Data and poured coffee from the thermal pot in the center of the table into the mug that was waiting for me. I was trying to learn to like it black, but attempts weren't going well. I looked around for milk or cream, but my fiancé anticipated my need and passed a small pitcher to me.
"Thank you," I said. Then I addressed our hosts. "Do you mind me asking… you said that alternative power sources were your new project. Are you working alone or with an organization of some kind?"

"Solutions don't happen in a vacuum," Pran said. "We have resources from Starfleet Applications, and a few NGOs, and there are several teams around the Federation who share information."

"Our relationship with SA is one of the reasons the Enterprise was sent to Atrea in the first place," Juliana said. "Though I confess, I was happy to learn your ship was closest." She addressed the second sentence to her son.

"I had not realized you knew I was coming," Data shared. "Starfleet does not typically specify which starship is being sent."

"It's because the SA liaison has a crush on my wife," Pran said. Again, I perceived a touch of amusement in his gruff tone. "He's a youngster but has a good brain. He was the officer who invited us to join Project Hubbert."

"Hubbert?" I asked.

"Hubbert…" Data's eyes grew distant for a microsecond or two as he searched his memory for a connection. "Ah! A reference to Marion King Hubbert's theory of the rise, peak, and decline of fossil fuel production. An apt analogy, though dilithium is mined rather than produced."

"What if that could change?" Juliana asked, her blue eyes lighting up. "What if we had a way to stimulate the growth of dilithium crystals in controlled environments, rather than relying on mining?"

"If that were possible, it would make the search for alternate power sources less urgent," Data said. "I am curious to see your work."

"Pran and I would appreciate your input," Juliana answered. "Perhaps after dinner tonight? Neither Pran nor I sleep much – a faced of old age that's rather useful – and I know you don't require sleep, though Noonian and I learned early on that sending you off for a nap helped you adapt to growth in your neuro net more easily."

"I have never found a significant benefit in sleep," Data said. I could hear the slightly perplexed note in his tone, but Juliana didn't seem to notice. "Though I recently discovered the ability to dream, thanks to an encounter with an alien medical device."
"Did Dr. Bashir ever confirm that?" I asked. "I thought he only suspected."

"He found nothing to contradict his assumption," my fiancé answered. "In any case, I would be happy to see your research after dinner, if Zoe does not mind being left on her own."

"I'm fine with it," I assured all of them. "I noticed that our room has a soaking tub, and I'm in the middle of a fantastic novel."

"Alright then," Juliana said. "Now, lets finish eating so we can give you the grand tour."

(=A=)

The Tainer's home was a red-and-tan brick house built into the hillside in the foothills of Atrea's Red Mountains. What looked like two wings connected by a breezeway from the outside, turned out to have a central living space with cathedral ceilings and stairways that curved upward on either side to the bedroom suites. Similarly curved hallways on the ground floor led to the scientists' offices and workrooms, on one side, and a library and music room on the other.

Most of the construction was brick and stone but the bannisters and other accents were made of the same material I'd noticed in the spaceport. "Your house is lovely," I said, when we'd returned to the main room. "I'm curious about the wood used for all the accent features. I noticed it in a lot of the local architecture. Is it native?"

"Data asked my wife about that earlier, but then chose to wait for you," Pran said, somewhat gruffly. "Good thing, too. If she goes into her workroom she tends to forget the time and stay there for hours while the coffee gets cold."

"You know perfectly well that the coffee pot is designed to maintain an optimal temperature," Juliana chided affectionately. I hadn't really seen them together when they'd been on the Enterprise and the fact that they bickered and teased like any other couple made me feel much more at ease.

"Like mother, like son," I said. "Data often becomes absorbed in projects that way."

"Of course, I cannot 'forget' the time," he added.

"Not for lack of trying," I countered.

Juliana looked from me to her son and back. "I'm assuming there's a story to that?"

"To be fair," I said. "I wasn't actually present when it happened. I was in the middle of finals week at school…." I glanced at my partner. "Would you prefer to share this one?"

"You may continue," he said.

"Alright then." I turned back to the Tainers. "Apparently, Data decided to test the truth of the aphorism, 'a watched pot never boils,' and replicated seventy-three different types of teakettles to see if the shape of the pot made a difference, only to find that it really didn't. Then, he decided that he should stick to a particular kettle to make sure he was testing accurately. He boiled water in that kettle and never came up with a time other than fifty-one sec – "

"It was fifty-one-point-seven seconds to be precise," Data said, interrupting me.

"Fine," I said, "fifty-one-point-seven seconds. At that point he was interrupted by Commander Riker coming over to chat with him about crew scheduling. Data told him what he was doing and explained that whether he watched the pot or not the result was the same. Will – Commander Riker – suggested that since organic beings don't come equipped with internal chronometers, Data should try turning his off and repeating the test. And warned him that he was doing a night shift beginning at eleven PM, and not to be late."

Juliana started chuckling before I finished the story. "Let me guess," she said, "he was late."

"He was," I said, "But only by about five minutes."

"Four-point-two-six-nine minutes," Data corrected. "Which for an android is nearly an eternity."

"It gets better, though… ever since then, any time there's been an occasion to present Will with a gift – birthdays, Christmas, a thank-you for covering a shift or letting Data have leave to spend time with me – Data has gifted the commander with one of those tea kettles."

A low chortle emanated from Pran's throat. "That's rich," he said. "It's perfect."

I smiled at him. "Yes, I think so too." But I patted Data's hand. "We're not laughing at you, love, I promise. We're laughing at the situation and your sly way of getting even."

"I understand," he said. But he said it in such a fashion that I was pretty sure a teakettle would be showing up in my dorm room not long after I settled in. "Pran, what is the wood used here? Is it a native species?"
"It's called salish," the older man said. "It's a native creation, grows like wood but has the strength of steel. Almost like living stone, but with a grain."

"It is quite aesthetically pleasing," my fiancé said.

(=A=)

For the next several days, Juliana and Pran hosted us while we played tourist on their homeworld. We visited the salish gardens – a place a lot like the petrified forest in Arizona, on Earth, where the rocklike substance had grown and solidified into weird twists and curves, arches, and glyphs, which were almost architectural except that it was obvious to humanoid hand had been involved in their creation.

We took a tour of the local open zoo – a preserved stretch of land where indigenous and introduced species lived without being in cages. There were stasis fields to keep them from wandering into developed areas, but it was interesting to see how Terran creatures like giraffes and big-horned sheep - animals that did not share space at home – lived harmoniously with the indigenous hooved animals. We even got to interact with a native equine that was about the size of a small burro and just as friendly. We'd purchased fruit to feed them with and I was delighted when the entire herd seemed to pick me as their favorite.

"It's considered a good sign," Pran shared with me in a soft tone, as if he didn't want Data and Juliana to hear him talking about signs, "when a redhoof likes you."

"They're probably just attracted to my shampoo," I said. "It's made with a lot of tropical fruit essence."

"Think what you like," he said, gruffly, "But don't discount local beliefs."

Embarrassed, I said, "You're right, I shouldn't have. Thank you for bringing us here. I love animals and this park is beautiful."

Too soon, we had to leave the zoo. "We thought we'd have dinner at home tonight, if that's alright with both of you," Juliana said. "It's cool enough to grill outside, and I've noticed that Zoe loves fresh food."

"My grandmother owns a self-sustaining farm on Centaurus," I said. "And both my parents prefer cooking to replicating meals whenever possible. I grew up helping in the kitchen."

"Then I hope you don't mind if we put you to work tonight?" Juliana asked.

"Not at all," I said. "You've been such wonderful hosts…."

Pran chuckled, "Be careful, Zoe. When Juliana finds a willing assistant, she doesn't let them go."

"Well, in that case, you should make use of Data's knife skills."

"Zoe's families – both of them – believe that after the first night of a visit one is no longer a guest. Her Nonna, in particular, is extremely appreciative that I do not have a lachrimosal reaction to chopping allium cepa."

"What's that?" Pran asked, not understanding the Latin term.

"It means that onions don't make Data cry," Juliana explained.

"Guess you have two pairs of willing hands then," her husband responded.

The sun was low in the sky by the time we'd returned to the Tainers' house, but instead of all of us heading to the kitchen, Pran asked Data to help him set up the grill while Juliana and I set to work on food prep.

"Do you mind hulling strawberries wile I dice the root vegetables for dinner? We're going to grill greenfish – it's a freshwater fish that is similar to trout – and vegetables. The berries are for the salad, which I'll put you in charge of."

"Whatever you need," I said. "I'm happy to help. But Pran didn't really need help with the grill, did he?"

Juliana laughed softly. "No. I encouraged him to spend some one-on-one time with Data. He's still a little uneasy around him. Did your family accept him as easily as you did?"

I found a colander and rinsed the strawberries my future mother-in-law had set out. Shaking off the water, I answered, "My mother served with Data, so she knew him before I did. Most of the Enterprise crew treat him the same way they'd treat any other officer. She was a little concerned that I was making a nuisance of myself when we started spending more time together, but Data told her I wasn't. When we started dating, she was more concerned with the difference in our ages, than anything else."

"And your father?"

"He knew Data as my tutor first, so he was dubious about the change in our relationship, but then he heard us play a duet."

"Music speaks louder than words?" Juliana made the quotation into a question and infused it with warm humor.

"Something like that," I said. "We'd barely admitted to ourselves that we were dating when Data joined us for part of my holiday break on Centaurus. My stepmother called him my beau, and there was a lot of good-natured teasing, but the only thing that really bothered my father was that his little girl was dating a Starfleet officer – and that I had the audacity to grow up."

"I certainly understand that."

I found a knife and began hulling the strawberries, pausing to ask, "Do you throw the tops out, replant them, or compost?" Juliana showed me where food scraps should be disposed and I shared as I worked, "You kind of have to admire my dad's courage – can you imagine giving the 'what are your intentions' speech to the second officer of a starship?

Juliana laughed, "Did he really?"

"Oh, he did. Really. I think it was a whole month before Data told me exactly what was said. He's really good at keeping secrets."

For a while, we worked in silence, our knives making soft clicking sounds when they came into contact with the cutting board we were using. When I finished the strawberries, Juliana gestured toward their crisper, and told me to choose whatever other fruits, vegetables, and greens I wished to use.

I picked out lettuce and a few vegetables I recognized, as well as a couple that I didn't. There was a container of yellow things that looked like cherry tomatoes but smelled sweet. "Can these go in salad?"
Juliana turned away from the purple carrots she was slicing. "Oh, yes. Those are groundcherries. Try one."

I bit into the fruit expecting something like the tomatoes they resembled. "It's like a mango with a citrus undertone. Where have these been all my life?"

"Here," Juliana said in a perfect deadpan. "But they're similar to a fruit found on Earth. I think they're called golden berries there."

"I'll have to look when I get there. Whiskers and Bright-Star would love them."

"Whiskers and Bright-Star?"

"Professor Wire-Whiskers and his mate, Bright-Star. Whiskers is actually a friend of Data's. He teaches a class on the philosophy of AI at Yale, but I met him at a cybernetics conference we attended. Bright-Star is actually my dean. They're Eeiauoan, but the conference was last year on Hamal IV."

"You both attended?"

"Data took me because there was someone from his past I wanted to meet. It was kind of a dragon-slaying mission."

"A dragon?"

"Sort of. It's really not my story to tell. But we went, and we danced, and attended a bunch of lectures - some together, some separately – and played some poker with his friends – and I ended up seeing yet another layer of him. I don't know how much of Data is just Data and how much is you and Dr. Soong. He's told me he doesn't really have a personality of his own, but that's bogus. He has a baseline."

"It would seem that you know more about my son than I do." Juliana said. I turned toward her and saw that her eyes were wet. She blinked a few times and then asked softly, "Does he hate me?"

"Data doesn't hate anyone," I said. To anyone else, I'd have laced that sentence with snark. To the woman weeping over carrots, I kept my tone gentle. "He's a little uneasy, still. Or… wary, I guess. He's trusted people before who have ended up betraying him, and it's only since he was transferred to the Enterprise that he's formed real friendships. But he craves family, and the lack of early memories unsettles him a bit."

"Is that why he built a child?"

"I wasn't really privy to that decision," I said. "I never met Lal, and I didn't join Data's math tutorial until after she died. I think, at least partly, he wanted to leave a legacy."

"Do you think he'll try again, someday" Juliana asked. "Or have you made your peace with never having children?"

I pushed the salad bowl away from me and wiped my hands on a nearby towel. "That's the most unique way I've ever heard of someone asking for future grandchildren," I said lightly. "But there are many ways for us to become parents when we're ready. But we're not even getting married until next year, and I want to finish school and spend more time working before we take that step." I took a breath, let it out, and suggested gently, "You should talk to Data about his hopes and dreams. I may know the present version better than you do, but there are questions only you can answer. It would do both of you some good."

"For someone so young, you're very wise, Zoe. Data is fortunate to have you in his life."

"I have a lot of good teachers," I said. "And I'm just as fortunate to have him." I took a beat. "They've been 'setting up the grill' for a long time. The salad is done, it looks like your vegetables are ready, and I'm dying to taste greenfish."

As if on cue, Pran and Data rejoined us, and confirmed that the fire was hot enough. The former collected tableware, stacking it onto a tray and handing it to the latter. Then he went to their cold storage to retrieve a beautifully butterflied fish fillet. I caught the shimmer of green skin around the edges.

"If you women are finished chatting, we should get dinner going." Pran said, but after several days with him, I could discern the affectionate teasing beneath his gruff exterior.

"Yes," Juliana agreed, her blue eyes clear of tears, "lets go eat."

(=A=)

Stardate 47533.92
(Tuesday, 14 July 2370, 9:13 PM, local time)
Tainer Home, Atrea

It was our last night visiting the Tainers and Data still hadn't taken any significant time to talk one-on-one with his mother, so when dinner was done, I went up to our room and returned with a box. "Pran," I said, "I noticed you have a lovely chess set in the living room. I'm not much for chess, but I brought a game you might like. Would you play with me?"

The older man glanced from me to my partner and then shot a look toward his wife. "I should help you clean up first…" he began.

"Oh, Data can help Juliana with cleanup," I volunteered, pointedly not looking at my partner. "It'll give them a chance to talk."

"You should play with her, Pran." Juliana said. "You're always grumbling that you lack decent partners."

I laughed. "Let me guess, Juliana… you always win?"

"Not always," the older woman answered, warm amusement in her voice. "But often enough that my husband doesn't like to face me across the board."

Like mother, like son, I thought.

But Pran was already moving toward the game table, though he stopped to fill two glasses with deep red liquid from a decanter on a sideboard. "This is a local wine - my wife says it's a lot like Terran port. We'll have a glass while we play."

"Sounds delightful," I said. I took the chair he ushered me toward and set up the Tøg game I'd brought, intending to leave with our hosts as a house gift. Data and I had also recorded a couple of our best duets for violin and cello to give to his mother.

For the next two hours Pran and I chatted about art and architecture while we tried to beat each other at building stone walls across the board. In three games, I won once and Pran once twice, but I didn't mind losing.

"You didn't drink your khraunvin."

I blushed. "I was so absorbed in the game, I forgot it was there." I picked up the glass and took a sip, feeling the warm sweetness flow down my throat. "It's delicious," I said.

"They age it in barrels made of salish," Pran said. "It takes a decade – replicators can't come close to this depth of flavor."

"Does everyone on this planet limit their use of replicators, or is it a personal thing?" I asked. "Both of my parents come from families who garden and fish and cook fresh food. Not every day – but more often than not. I grew up helping in kitchens. Actually, my Gran – my father's mother – didn't even have a replicator until pretty recently."

"We have a replicator in the office lounge," Pran revealed. "Makes it easer to keep going when a project is more like a knot that needs unpicking if we don't have to stop."

"I get that," I said. "Interrupting a work groove or creative flow is never good."

"You'd know about the latter, I suppose. My wife has spent the last several weeks watching recordings of your performances. She thinks you're very talented."

"And you?"

"I'm not a great judge of theatre, but from what I've seen, you're very expressive and you don't look like you're faking emotion." I opened my mouth to respond, then shut it again, when Pran continued. "Hard to understand why someone like you would commit to an android."

"Data isn't just any android," I said, "He's kind and thoughtful, enjoys the arts as well as science, and has supported all of my choices, even though it's not easy for either of us."

I was expecting him to debate me, but instead, Pran's expression softened. "Good," he said. "That's as it should be. He should be nudging you to find your way the same way you needle him to do the same. If you both keep supporting each other like that, your marriage will thrive, even with the separations you're bound to have. Wish I'd learned that a lot sooner."

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Juliana and I – we're both in second marriages. I guess you knew that." He waited for my affirming nod. "My first wife and I wanted different things and didn't know how to give each other space to have them at the same. Didn't do the work to learn, either. She was a surgeon, got a job offer to head the cardio-thoracic unit on the other side of Atrea, took our daughter with her."

"I didn't know you had a daughter."

"I don't anymore. I tried to stay in her life, but I let my work subsume me. Missed too many recitals and vid calls, showed up late to too many birthdays. When Liasa remarried, her new husband adopted Danae. I still send a note every year but…"

I reached across the table and covered his weathered hand with my own. "I'm sorry that happened. My parents are both in second marriages, too. I know how strange the dynamics can be. Does Danae answer your… notes?"

"She sends a family picture every year, just when school starts. Her daughter is seven now, and I've never met her."

I wasn't trying to read this man's thoughts, but his pain was almost tangible. I wished I were the kind of telepath who could ease anguish, but as much as I wanted to help him, I knew how I'd have felt if my father had given up on me after Mom brought me to the Enterprise. "Sometimes," I said, "adding new family members can open a door to new communication. You should visit. You and Juliana both." I recalled the conversation I'd only heard half of the night when the other Dr. Tainer had joined Data and I for dinner on ship. "Juliana has always wanted a daughter," I said. "I'm pretty sure she'd be delighted with a stepdaughter and granddaughter as a package deal."

Pran chuckled softly. "You dear girl," he said. "I was wary about meeting Data - afraid I didn't treat him very well when we were on your ship – but you. You are the sunshine we both needed, and I guess we have him to thank for that." He paused for a moment, downing the last swallow of his wine. "Seems to me a daughter-in-law is something delightful as well."

My own glass still held liquid also, so I lifted it in salute, then swallowed it in a single, warming sip.

As if on cue, Data and Juliana emerged from the back of the house then, and while I couldn't sense anything from either of them, I'd never needed telepathy to read my partner. His face was relaxed, his posture open. I caught his eye, and he responded with the hint of a nod – he'd tell me about his evening later.

Juliana took in the empty glasses and laughed. "I was going to propose we share a nightcap," she said. "But I see you two have already done so. Did you enjoy your evening."

"We did," I said. "Good game, lovely wine, and great conversation. I think I need to find a piece of carved salish to take home with me."

"We are not departing until afternoon," Data reminded me. "Perhaps we will find something before we go."

"I'm sorry you're going so soon," Juliana said. "We'll have a leisurely morning though, yes?"

"Definitely," I promised. But the hour was getting the better of me, and I hid a yawn behind my hand. "I'm sorry, I think the wine has made me sleepy."

"Perhaps it is also the hour It is nearly one-thirty in the morning." Data extended a hand to help me from my chair, and I took it. "Thank you, love." I said softly. "And thank you both for being so gracious. I'll see you in the morning."

"Sleep well, Zoe," Juliana said.

"Thank you, you as well."

Back in our room, I changed into the nightgown I'd brought with me and climbed into the bed. "So," I asked. "Good talk?" I put up a hand to stop Data from answering immediately. "You don't have to tell me what you talked about; I just want to know how it made you… feel."

My fiancé moved into the bathroom for his own bedtime ministrations. Even androids have to brush their teeth when they choose to sample food, after all. He returned a few minutes later and changed into pajamas. Maybe it was the fact that we were both guests in the Tainer's home, or maybe it was sign that he wasn't entirely at ease with his mother, after all, but we we'd both opted for more bedtime attire than we typically wore at home.

"I am not certain whether or not our conversation was 'good,'" Data said, joining me in the bed. "We spoke in detail about Lal and my failure to save her. She assured me that it was not my fault and explained that she and my father had experienced the loss of several prototypes before they were successful with Lore, and then me."

"And?"

"And… I believe she was fond of each of my predecessors, though Lore is the first whom they considered to be a son. She shared that she and Dr. Soong had many arguments over whether or not to change the base programing before they deactivated him and activated me."

"You were never alive at the same time?"

"If we were, Juliana did not tell me, and I have no such memories."

"Did she have any ideas about what the chip Lore stole might do?" It was the one question I'd want an answer to if I were him. "Or did you even bring that up?"

"I did not," Data said. "I did ask her if she had any insight into me own development of emotion."

"Did she have any?"

"She confirmed what you have suggested, Zoe. She believes that I have always had the potential to develop my own feelings and that once my neural net was developed enough, it would happen without the need of specific programming." He paused for a moment. "Would you object to delaying any further conversation on this matter until after I have had time to… process?"

I favored him with a soft smile. "Whenever you're ready. Do you need me to be quiet or just avoid that topic."

"I do not wish for silence," Data said, "but I believe some discretion will be necessary with regard to volume."

I shot him a look. "Oh?"

"Yes. You typically make loud vocalizations when you are near climax. We have not engaged in sexual intimacy since arriving here, and even though the hour is late, I find that I do not wish to wait any longer."

Inwardly, I chuckled at the android-speak for I'm horny. Outwardly, I moved closer to the center of the bed, so that we were touching at the hip. "I wasn't pushing because we're in your mother's house, but you're not the only one who doesn't want to wait anymore."

Data's response to that was to kiss me. Then he moved me with him as he slid down in the bed, lifting me on top of him. I pulled up the bottom of my nightgown and untied the drawstring of his pajamas, and we joined with a lot of whispers from both of us and no small amount of delighted giggling from me.

It took me a long time to fall asleep afterward, and when I woke the sky was just turning pink outside the bedroom window. While I was not typically a morning person, every once in a while I liked to greet the dawn. At least, when there was a dawn to greet.

"You are agitated," Data observed, setting down the padd he'd been working on while I slept.

"Mmm. More like antsy. I know we're leaving this afternoon, and as much as I've enjoyed this visit, I'm ready to leave."

"No one will object if you make coffee," Data said, reminding me that his mother had invited us to treat her home as our own. "I would like to run my dream subroutine this morning. You do not have to remain if you need to move around."

I laughed. "Vacation makes everything all topsy-turvy. Usually, I'm the one lying in bed while you're awake and active." I brushed a quick kiss across his lips. "Dream well, love. I'll see you at breakfast if not sooner." I moved into the bathroom to throw on some clothes and made my way down to the kitchen, surprised to find Juliana at the table sipping coffee. "Oh, I'm sorry," I said. "I'm always restless on travel days and Data wanted some dreamtime, so I came down here. I didn't mean to intrude."

"You're not intruding," the older woman insisted. "And there's more coffee in the pot if you'd care to join me. Actually, why don't you pour a cup and then join me in my workroom; there's something I'd like to show you."

"Okay," I said. I poured coffee into a mug and splashed in a little cream, then stirred it and splashed in a bit more. I'd finally learned how to drink it without sweetener, leaving that for my mocha habit, but I still didn't like it black. I probably never would.

"This way," Juliana said, and led me out of the kitchen and down the hall to her office.

I was half-expecting a mad scientist's lab, somewhat like Dr. Soong's – and now Data's – workroom in the house on Terlina III, but what I found was a long table with several computer monitors and a few other devices I couldn't identify stretching across one side of the room, with a couple of rolling chairs. The rest of the space was very much like the library I'd claimed as my domain in the jungle house. A chaise lounge with back pillows and a colorful throw jutted out from the corner opposite the desk, with a side table placed next to it. Hanging lamps with paper shades gave that part of the room soft light, though there was also a sun-tube that allowed sunlight to fill the space. A low bookshelf was built along the back wall, and while the three shelves were filled with books and padds, the top held plants and knick-knacks.

"The library on Terlina…" I began. "It was yours, wasn't it?"

"I had space in Noonien's laboratory as well," Juliana confirmed. "But that was my quiet space. Data told me it was your space now."

"Is that okay?" I asked. "I fell in love with the house the first time we went there. We've only been back twice since then, but we've talked about making some changes, planting a garden, maybe adding guest cottages along the shore of the lagoon."

"It's quite all right, Zoe. I never wanted to live so far from civilization. It was one of the many reasons I left Noonien. I never stopped loving him, but I couldn't live with him anymore."

"My parents said pretty much the same thing about each other, after their divorce," I admitted. "They've had to keep things pretty civil because of me, of course, but… it was rough for a while. Before they divorced, my father was… less than faithful… to my mother. Now they both have really solid second marriages, and I have two amazing stepparents."

"You seem very well adjusted…"

"I wasn't, really, until I met Data. I was getting into a lot of trouble, drinking a lot more than anyone should, let alone a fourteen-year-old… my mother brought me to the Enterprise when I was fifteen, but it wasn't until Data started tutoring me in music theory that I really started to settle down. And even then… the first time I met Lore it was because I'd picked a fight with Data for not grieving over Dr. Soong 'correctly.' We were on a starbase, and I saw him and thought he was Data, and followed him into a really skanky bar."

"I had no idea you'd encountered him more than once," Juliana said. "I'm sorry for all that happened to you."

"It wasn't your fault," I said, and found that I meant the words. "He was an independent being and made his own choices."

"Still…" Juliana began.

I cut her off. "Can we not? I saw your reaction when I yelled at you on the ship, and nothing either of us can say will change that or change history. I've really enjoyed visiting here and getting to know you and Pran – he's got a soft heart under that crusty exterior."

The older woman laughed. "Yes. Yes, he does. He's quite taken with you, by the way."

"It's mutual," I said. "But you wanted to show me something. May I sit?"

"Of course."

I set my cup on the table, perched on the edge of the chaise, and watched as Juliana moved to the desk. I'd anticipated being shown art or jewelry or something, but instead she called up a file on the computer. "Data has no memories of his childhood," she said. "And unfortunately, I didn't take many files with me when I left – I did take a few things – there was a menorah that Noonien's mother sent to us after we finally admitted that we'd married, and a few pieces of jewelry. If you weren't already wearing an engagement ring, I would have given you mine."

"That's a lovely thought," I said. "But you don't owe us anything."

"Perhaps not," she said, "but I'd like to be part of both of your lives if you'll allow it. Now, this… this is for you." She keyed in a command rather than speaking it, and the center monitor sprang to life.

The image on the screen was a house, but not the one on Terlina III. Rather it was the O'Donnell-Soong home on Omicron Theta – Data had shown me images – and the people in the video were a much younger Juliana and an android in civilian clothing sharing a piano bench.

"Play the scale again, Data," the woman was urging. "More slowly. I know you're capable of playing much faster, but organic ears can't keep up."

"Slowing down is inconvenient," the android said, a note of petulance in his voice. "If I can go faster, should I not?"

"It depends on the situation," Juliana explained. "If you're alone and playing for yourself, then yes, speed as much as you like. When we play together, or if you play with another organic partner, keeping in time is essential for enjoyment and a pleasing result."

"There are many factors in musical performance that I do not comprehend, Mother," Data said.

"I know. But they will come in time."

The image shifted then, to a version of Data that looked essentially the same but seemed even younger somehow. Maybe it was the lack of confidence in his stance, or the fact that…. "Oh, my god, he's naked!"

"I told you he didn't see the point in clothes." Juliana seemed both amused and slightly embarrassed.

"I thought you were kidding!"

But the image on the screen proved her point.

"Clothing is inconvenient," this child-version of my fiancé stated. "I am not affected by temperature or ultraviolet light. Why should I wear burdensome garments that make noise?"

"Noise?" Juliana asked.

"There is a 'wooshing' sound when I walk, and when I have shoes on, my steps click."

The version of my mother-in-law to be on the screen could be seen smothering a chuckle behind her hand. "Well, there are other footwear options, Data, but it isn't appropriate for an android who has the appearance of an adult male humanoid to go about in the nude. That should be reserved for private time when you're alone or engaged in…"

"Engaged in what, Mother? Father says I am programmed to be competent in multiple techniques of sexual intimacy. Is that what you mean?"

"It is," his mother affirmed, a wistful note in her voice. "Someday when you have a more stable neural net and more life experience, it is our hope that you will find a partner who appreciates you."

"Does my father appreciate you, Mother?"

"Yes, Data, I believe he does in his way."

I wondered if that version of Data could detect the doubt in her tone, the way I could.

"I will get dressed now."

"Thank you, Data."

The playback ended.

"I'm sorry, Zoe. I don't have any more…" She came to sit next to me. "I wish I did. I wish I could give him all his memories back. I wish I could go back and take him with us."

"Did you tell him that?" I asked.

"I did. I think he accepted it, but…"

"I wish I could reassure you, but he hasn't told me anything. He asked for time to process – that's rare for him – and I couldn't refuse that. But… I don't think we'd even be here if he didn't want you in his life in some way."

"Thank you, Zoe."

"Oh, I'm just along for the ride," I said lightly.

"I think we both know that's not true," she responded. "Would you mind if I contacted you at Yale from time to time? I'd like us to become real friends."

"I'd enjoy that," I said.

"Good. Then, there is something I'd like to give you if you'll accept it."

"Oh?"

"Yes." She went to the bookshelf and chose one of the carved boxes I'd thought was only ornamental. "I should wait until your wedding, but you're here now, and we can never know what may conspire to keep us from attending. Though of course I hope nothing will." She sat beside me again holding the box in her lap. "These belonged to my mother, and I think they'd look wonderful on you." She opened the box and drew out a dark blue cloth, which she unfolded to reveal a pair of gold earrings that were shaped sort of like fish or fishhooks, with topaz teardrops dangling from each of them. "I used to love watching these swing from my mother's ears when I was a child, and later, they were the inspiration…"

"… for Data's eyes. But I thought Dr. Soong…"

"Oh, Noonien used his own face as a model, but I wanted to see something of myself in our creations, and since he insisted that they needed to be yellow or green in order to accommodate all the different spectra he wanted them to see, I suggested these. Will you try them on?"

I took the jewelry from her and slipped one hook through each of my ears. "Twin suns," I said, turning toward one of the dark monitors to see my reflection. "Data's eyes always remind me of twin suns. These do, too. Thank you."

"You're very welcome." She glanced past me to the table where I'd set my coffee. "You never drank your coffee. Let's make a fresh pot and start breakfast – I know you probably have packing to do, but I'd like to have one more family meal."

"Me, too." I said. I rose from the chaise and picked up my cup. "I'll just go see if Data is ready to rejoin the world."

"Do you want to put the earrings back in the box?" Juliana asked, closing it, and leading the way out of her workroom and back to the kitchen. I left my mug in the sink.

"I think I'll wear them, if it's okay with you."

"Then keep the box, at least. It's salish, and you've commented more than once that you like it." She pressed it into my hands. "Please?"

I couldn't refuse.

TO BE CONTINUED

NOTES:

I was going to make their vacation one long chapter, but the tone changes, and after nearly a year of struggling, I finally figured out WHY I couldn't continue.

The mirror scene Data and Zoe refer to is from chapter 19 of this story, "Noel, Part I," where Data is acting on bursts of lust transmitted by Lore via Crosis. The letter they talk about is from chapter one of Intentions. For Data's POV (which is the longer and more explicit version) of the opening scene, please see my M-rated one-shot Impulse Control. Data tells Zoe never to apologize for her feelings in chapter 15 ("Enharmonics") of Crush II: Ostinato.
Ja'dar is the visiting scientist in the season five episode "New Ground," where the b-story is Alexander's return to the ship.

Tøg is my redressing of the game Tak from Patrick Rothfuss's Kingkiller Chronicle.

Khraunvin is based on the Norwegian name for port wine, but with the spelling changed.