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r_scribblesMore of the now unnamed Data/Tasha story (I've managed yet again to give a story of mine the same title as a similar story already up on FF.net, so I'm going to change mine just as soon as I can think of another title... why do I keep doing that?!?)
The first paragraph is actually a postscript to the previous chapter that I haven't added yet.
And so that path split away from the one you know. A shuttle still crashed, a ship still attempted to retrieve it, lives were still lost – but not hers. The only effect it had on her was that it made her sigh and shake her head when she heard about the tragedy that had befallen those people that she didn’t know, and thank her lucky stars that her friend had been too sick to take that ill fated journey. It gave her an uneasy feeling that she had escaped a brush with destiny, but she never knew to what extent that was true.
-x-
Wonderland
-x-
Tasha let out a slight, audible sigh of resignation as she turned the corner and saw who else was waiting for the Turbolift. A couple of months ago she would have actually considered sneaking off for a moment and waiting for him to go, in order to save them both the unnecessary and uncomfortable silences. Of course, time was a great healer of even awkward situations such as these, and she’d since come to realise that any discomfort emanating from their stilted conversations were purely on her part. He had followed her request to the letter – he continued as though The Unfortunate Incident had never happened - and since Tasha rarely struck up a friendly dialogue with him or involved him in what laughably posed as her social life - if they didn’t have that brief, surprising, exhilarating, idiotic moment to share, then besides work, they really didn’t have much to talk about.
Nevertheless, she still found being alone with him in enclosed spaces difficult, so a shared Turbolift ride was the last thing she needed, especially today. It was a day that she desperately wanted to pass swiftly and without incident, and spending the first few minutes of it killing time with a former accidental paramour wasn’t exactly her idea of getting it off to a great start.
She squared her shoulders and stepped next to him at the Turbolift door.
‘Morning,’ she greeted him, politely.
Data turned his head to her. ‘Good morning.’
As they made eye contact, Tasha wished for what had to be the thousandth time that the Tsiolkovsky virus could have been kind enough to have left her memory blank or muddled. But, no. This was an inebriation that left perfect, vivid memories of the sufferer’s uninhibited behaviour. As she offered the android a perfunctory little smile of acknowledgement, some masochistic section of her conscious merrily pulled up an unbidden pornographic slideshow of their tryst, which snapped lurid images across her mind’s eye.
And he would have a photographic memory of the event too, she reminded herself, and wondered briefly whether he pictured her “in-flagrante” whenever they spoke with quite the same consistency that she did him. Of course he didn’t – did he? No, of course not. That was absurd. The whole damn situation was absurd.
‘Are you having a pleasant day?’ Added the android, conversationally.
‘I’ve only just got up,’ Tasha replied, turning back to face the Turbolift doors as they slid open, ‘so it’s hard to say, yet.’ She was struck by a sudden spark of suspicion as she stepped forward towards the lift. He didn’t know, did he…? ‘Why do you ask?’
Data tried to answer, but was momentarily distracted as he too tried to step through the Turbolift’s doors at the same time as her, causing them both to bump into one other and inelegantly wedge together in the doorway briefly. It didn’t help matters that the unexpected physical contact caused Tasha to involuntarily freeze on the spot while Data looked down at himself in mild surprise, ‘Hmm’d, attempted to step further forwards to no avail, then turned side-on slightly and squeezed through. Her path clear again, Tasha was able to step fully into the lift herself, folding her arms tightly across her chest and focussing her eyes on a spot just above Data’s left ear as the doors closed again behind them. A sudden realisation hit her, which firmly cemented her suspicions. She narrowed her eyes at him.
‘You’re off duty today.’
Data nodded, simply. ‘Indeed I am.’
‘So why are you going up to the Bridge?’
Data’s expression was transparent. He had been caught out, but for some reason, he couldn’t tell her. Instead of answering, he just repeated her question slowly, as though ruminating it. ‘Why… am I… going up to the Bridge…?’
‘Yes. Why are you going up to the Bridge?’
‘Why am I going up to the Bridge…?’
Tasha cocked her head a little, her arms still tightly wrapped around her chest. ‘Are you stuck in a loop, or something?’
‘Am I stuck in a loop…?’
She snorted a small laugh at his attempts to cover up. ‘For God’s sake, Data. You’re going up because the Captain wants everybody to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me but he told you not to tell me.’
‘No…’ Data attempted.
‘No?’ repeated Tasha, ominously. ‘So when the lift opens there won’t be a Bridge full of people shouting “surprise” and throwing streamers in my face?’
‘Most likely,’ nodded Data, ‘but it is not the Captain who has organised it. It was Commander Riker.’
Tasha gave the ceiling a despairing glance. ‘Dammit, Will!’
Data ‘Hmm’d again. ‘Would I be correct in concluding that you do not, in fact, wish to celebrate your birthday?’
‘Correct, Data,’ Tasha sighed.
‘I have found that that is not an uncommon issue,’ Data breezed. ‘Many individuals I have spoken to appear to begrudge the anniversary of their birth since they see it as a marker of the passage of time – a reminder that they are ageing…’
‘I’m not worried about getting old!’
Data frowned a little. ‘Then what reason could you have for shunning what is, essentially, a celebration of your existence?’
Tasha nodded curtly at him. ‘That’s your reason, right there.’
Data just blinked.
‘Birthday parties, Data? Cake and presents and a silly little song? It’s not about getting older, it’s about trying to stay a little kid. Why does my birth have to be celebrated every year? It’s all so childishly egotistical.’ She paused. ‘You think I had Birthdays when I was growing up? No, I was too busy surviving.’
‘So, your dislike of your Birthday is because it reminds you of your childhood, which was unpleasant…’
‘I didn’t have a childhood,’ Tasha replied as the lift came to a halt. ‘I just don’t see the point in any of th…’
‘Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you!’
Tasha snapped her head away from Data and pulled what she hoped was a convincing expression of delighted surprise as the doors slid open to reveal a Bridge full of song and confectionary. Riker (that son of a bitch), Deanna and Wesley all crowded her at the doorway with a large cake so that she couldn’t leave it until they had finished singing. She managed a small, genuine giggle at the expense of the distinctive Basso Profundo of the Klingon in the background, who blatantly didn’t know the words or tune and was limping along a note after everybody else, as well as Data, behind her, who was the only one who sang ‘Lieutenant Yar’ instead of ‘Dear Tasha’ in the third line. And when it was over, she put her hands to her chest as if overwhelmed at the wonder of it all.
‘Did we surprise you?’ asked Wesley, eagerly.
Deanna Troi, at his side, shook her head - a warm, knowing smirk at the corner of her lip. ‘She’s not surprised. Somebody must have told her.’
Riker tutted. ‘Data!’
‘I did not inform her,’ Data exclaimed, innocently. He furrowed his brow a little and added ‘…as such. Lieutenant Yar discovered our plot through deduction.’
Riker put his hand on Tasha’s shoulder and ushered her onto the Bridge. ‘Deduction, eh? Maybe you should get Tasha to join you in your next Sherlock Holmes adventure, then.’
‘You’d make a great Watson,’ added Geordi from behind the others, his mouth full of cake.
Tasha looked over her shoulder briefly in an attempt to somehow communicate silently to the android that she most definitely did not want to play detectives with him, and was worried to see that Data was staring very intently at her, with an expression that suggested he was Getting An Idea.
‘I don’t think I’d suit the mutton chops…’ protested Tasha, but still Data gazed at her, intently.
Suddenly, he blinked. Evidentially, he had come to some sort of decision. ‘Would you please excuse me,’ he asked, stepping back into the Turbolift. ‘There is something that I believe I should do.’
Tasha tried to say something to the android, but was distracted by a large slice of cake and a genial ‘Happy Birthday’ from her Captain, and when she turned around to the lift again, the doors had closed and Data was already gone.
-x-
The alert at her door made her jump a little. She set down her book and cautiously went to the door, hoping for all the world that it wasn’t Data.
But, of course, it was.
‘Data,’ she greeted curtly, blocking the doorway with her arm.
‘I am surprised that you are alone in your quarters,’ Data told her. ‘Did you not wish to join the others in Ten-Forward?’
Tasha smiled a little, but still kept her arm jammed stiffly against the doorframe. The flashes of memory were bad enough as it was without having him back in her private quarters to boot. ‘If Will Riker thought he could drag me in there after our shifts, do you think he would have bothered with Birthday cake on the Bridge?’
Data nodded in understanding. ‘You are avoiding a social situation as it is still your Birthday.’ He paused, momentarily. ‘May I request that, if you are not busy, you come with me?’
Tasha didn’t budge. ‘He sent you over to get me, didn’t he?’
‘I have not been sent by anybody.’
Still, Tasha stayed put.
‘I am not about to lead you to any social gathering,’ Data ensured her. ‘There is something that I wish to show you.’
Tasha wasn’t sure that that sounded any better. ‘Is important?’
‘I do not know,’ Data admitted. ‘It could be. I suppose that that is dependant on your interpretation.’
Tasha bit the inside of her lip. ‘OK, Data. You’ve got me intrigued now.’ She stepped out of her quarters, being careful not to brush past him as she did. ‘Show me what you’ve got.’ She winced a little at the slight double-entendre, although he didn’t seem to pick up on it at all as he led the way ahead of her.
-x-
They stopped at a door. Tasha groaned a little. ‘The Holodeck? Data, what Riker said about Sherlock Holmes was a joke, you know. I really don’t think it’s a good idea for…’
‘It is not a Sherlock Holmes simulation.’ He opened the door and gestured for her to enter. ‘Please. I should like for you to see it. It took me some time to prepare.’
She gazed at him sceptically, forcing the lurid mental snapshots to the back of her mind. His expression was open and blankly courteous, like somebody who had just stepped aside for a lady with an ‘after you’ gesture, and got stuck that way. He had no hidden agenda – that much she could read. He probably just wanted her opinion on some anomaly or other… that damned Holodeck was constantly on the fritz, after all.
She stepped inside.
And stopped.
And gaped.
She found her head automatically tilting upwards. Bright electric lights danced for what seemed like miles above her in the summer twilight sky. Above and around her were the screams of children and teenagers as they whizzed by in rickety pods and cars. The air smelled of sawdust, sugar and vinegar, and was hot with whirring petroleum engines and clamouring crowds.
‘A Funfair?’
Data stepped up next to her. ‘I did not have much time available to research experiences that are universally enjoyed by the young. An evening at an amusement fair was one which particularly captured my attention.’
Tasha craned her head further upwards to read the giant, illuminated sign almost directly above her – WONDERLAND.
‘It is still fairly rudimentary at this stage,’ Data continued in a faintly apologetic tone. ‘Standard attractions, although many are historically based. It commences at this point with rides and stalls from Coney Island, circa 1920, and becomes progressively more contemporary the further down this main pathway one ventures…’
Tasha took a good look at the hotdog stand directly to her left. She couldn’t help but notice that, in spite of Data’s apparent attention to historical detail, there was still something plainly wrong about it. The counter came up to the top of her head. The whole place was two times too big.
‘I hate to break this to you, Data,’ she breathed, ‘but you’ve got the scale all wrong.’
‘Not wrong,’ Data corrected her, ‘merely different. I have deliberately programmed this simulation at double size.’
‘Why?’
Data gazed at her as though she had just missed something glaringly obvious. ‘So that it can be experienced as a child would.’
Tasha blinked. ‘What?’ she asked, softly.
‘You did not have a childhood,’ Data replied. ‘That is a misfortune that I can sympathise with, since I did not have one either. However, due to the nature of my being, that is the natural state of affairs for myself. But not for you. Humans need to play during their infancy, it is how they develop, and you were denied that, which is why I have created this.’
Tasha stared at him, then up at the WONDERLAND sign again, then back at him once more. ‘This is for me?’
Data nodded. ‘Happy Birthday.’
‘You made this for me?’
‘I thought that you might appreciate something that can give you the opportunity to indulge in juvenile enjoyment in adulthood, without feeling self-conscious. You need not concern yourself about exhibiting childlike behaviour in front of your peers here. It is a private programme. If you wish, its existence can remain a secret between the two of us.’
Tasha’s smile of amazement faded swiftly. ‘Yes. Don’t we have a lot of those.’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t accept this, Data.’
‘You do not like it?’ Data blinked, serenely. ‘Very well. Thank you for coming to see it.’
‘It’s not that, it’s just… it’s too much.’ Tasha paused. ‘This is a romantic gift, isn’t it?’
‘It is a… Birthday gift,’ Data clarified, a little confused.
‘I don’t want to accept this if it’s going to give you the wrong impression about us,’ Tasha added. ‘Data, this is so sweet, so flamboyant. It’s the sort of thing somebody would do to tell someone that they… had feelings for them.’
‘I do not have any feelings.’
Tasha opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, wondering how better to approach the subject. She had shied away from mentioning The Incident ever since it had happened – it would have been easier to avoid a blunt discussion about it altogether until the end of time, as far as she was concerned. However, she was all too aware that, of all the people to attempt to skirt an issue with, Data was one of the worst. Tactful allusions had a tendency to sail several metres above his precisely coiffed head. She was also aware that this was actually the first private moment she had allowed them together – the first, and possibly last, opportunity for her to get Data’s take on events, and a better idea of how exactly that accident had happened. Perhaps the moment had her come for her to finally be straightforward about the matter. She steeled herself and gazed deliberately at him.
‘Why did you have sex with me?’
Data returned her gaze, plainly. ‘Because you asked me to.’
‘But you had to have known it was a mistake.’
Data nodded. ‘With hindsight, I can see that it was inadvisable to have indulged in sexual intercourse with a close colleague, particularly one who I had only recently met.’ He paused. ‘Are you insinuating that our sexual contact has somehow coloured my decision to create this programme?’
‘Data, I just wanted to…’
‘You may be right,’ interrupted Data, a spark of realisation in his eyes. ‘Have I been correct in assuming that, since our sexual encounter our social relationship has been strained – that it has caused you to feel animosity towards me?’
‘Not animosity, Data.’ Tasha hugged her arms a little. ‘Awkwardness, perhaps. But you’re right about the social relationship. I don’t think we have one to speak of.’
‘Then perhaps, without fully realising to what extent, I created this simulation as a means of recreating the social link that we lost.’
‘So you just want us to be friends,’ Tasha clarified.
‘I do not believe that we are capable of being “just friends” now, since that implies an entirely platonic relationship.’ Data paused again, watching the twinkling lights on the slowly revolving Ferris wheel. ‘It is not in my programming to pursue sex, and am not regularly propositioned. I perceive it as a very rare and unique bonding process, after which, my partner in that act becomes… of particular import to me.’ The android turned back to Tasha. ‘I have noticed that you have seemed troubled as a result of our union, which has disconcerted me somewhat. I have never elicited that reaction before. I contemplated whether it might have been a result of my performance, but you seemed quite content at the time of the act. And then I considered that you are the only partner I have had who was not in full control of their faculties during proposition or fulfilment.’
Tasha scuffed at the sawdust on the ground a little. ‘Neither of us was.’
‘That is not entirely true. The Tsiolkovsky Virus was particularly swift to act on myself, and by the time we parted company I was indeed thoroughly intoxicated by it, but in the initial stages I had a far greater wherewithal than you. I should have seen that you were not acting coherently, I should have realised that it was a mistake to accept your proposal, but I did not. I was keen to demonstrate my abilities to you, and to experience that unique closeness, so… I took advantage of you.’
Tasha spluttered a laugh.
‘In which case,’ persisted Data, ‘perhaps this simulation is, in fact, a gift of apology.’
Tasha continued to giggle. ‘Data. No. Believe me. No. You did not take advantage of me.’
She took a deep breath of sweet carnival air. If anything, she added, silently to herself, it had been the other way around. She had been aware of how accommodating he was when he had walked into her quarters. She – desperate to seduce – had asked him to have sex with her and he – programmed to oblige – had done so. And that was the end of it.
And now, she chastised herself, she had made an ass of herself. He had done this thoughtful, lovely thing for her, thinking that he had distressed or offended her in some way, and she had snubbed it, thinking… what was she thinking…? That somehow he’d broken all of his programming, found a hidden pool of emotion somewhere within himself and then, without breathing a word about it to anyone, fallen head over heels in love with her because they’d slept together once, months ago? Of course it wasn’t a romantic gift. It was simply what he said it was – an opportunity to be a child again, an opportunity to start anew… for both of them. She looked up at the bright electric WONDERLAND sign again.
‘This is beautiful,’ she told him. ‘I’ll take it.’
‘You have changed your mind.’
‘On one condition,’ Tasha replied. ‘I want you to promise you’ll share it with me.’
‘Are you certain?’ Data frowned. ‘I had assumed that you were avoiding me in social contexts. Would it not be uncomfortable for you sharing a secret Holodeck programme with me?’
‘It would be boring here on my own,’ Tasha told him, ‘and if this is a place for people who didn’t have a childhood, then you’re certainly as at home here as I am. Besides.’ She made a deliberate point of unfolding her arms, and clasped them behind her back in order to keep them from crossing over her chest again. ‘I think I would like us to try being “just friends”, Data. We might have blown that in the real world, but in here… well, if we’re children then we’re without sex, and if we’re without sex, then… I think that would make You And Me something much more simple – something I think we’d both find much easier to get along with.’
‘It would certainly be an intriguing insight into an element of human life with which I am not overly familiar, were I to seek to simulate the behaviour of a young child at a funfair,’ muttered Data, half to himself.
‘See?’ She slapped his arm a little with the back of her hand, delighting inwardly that the physical contact didn’t make her tense up or summon filthy memories. ‘You’re positively giddy about it already.’
‘Giddy…?’ Data repeated, blankly. ‘I do not believe that I am.’
‘Tell you what’ll make anybody giddy,’ Tasha grinned, ‘a ride on the Wall Of Death.’ She nodded at the attraction in question, making a few steps towards it as she did. ‘Come on!’
Data stayed where he was. ‘You wish us to be spun in a centrifuge.’
‘Yes,’ Tasha replied, a little impatiently. ‘Come on!’
‘Do you not wish to acquire some refreshments first?’
‘Are you scared?’
‘No. I am incapable of…’
‘Then what’s the problem?’
‘There is no problem. I simply think that it would be wiser to begin with…’
‘Data?’
‘Yes?’
‘Whose Birthday is it?’
‘Yours.’
‘Well, then.’
‘Well, then…?’
‘Wall of Death.’
The android sighed slightly, and walked after her. ‘Wall of Death.’
The first paragraph is actually a postscript to the previous chapter that I haven't added yet.
And so that path split away from the one you know. A shuttle still crashed, a ship still attempted to retrieve it, lives were still lost – but not hers. The only effect it had on her was that it made her sigh and shake her head when she heard about the tragedy that had befallen those people that she didn’t know, and thank her lucky stars that her friend had been too sick to take that ill fated journey. It gave her an uneasy feeling that she had escaped a brush with destiny, but she never knew to what extent that was true.
-x-
Wonderland
-x-
Tasha let out a slight, audible sigh of resignation as she turned the corner and saw who else was waiting for the Turbolift. A couple of months ago she would have actually considered sneaking off for a moment and waiting for him to go, in order to save them both the unnecessary and uncomfortable silences. Of course, time was a great healer of even awkward situations such as these, and she’d since come to realise that any discomfort emanating from their stilted conversations were purely on her part. He had followed her request to the letter – he continued as though The Unfortunate Incident had never happened - and since Tasha rarely struck up a friendly dialogue with him or involved him in what laughably posed as her social life - if they didn’t have that brief, surprising, exhilarating, idiotic moment to share, then besides work, they really didn’t have much to talk about.
Nevertheless, she still found being alone with him in enclosed spaces difficult, so a shared Turbolift ride was the last thing she needed, especially today. It was a day that she desperately wanted to pass swiftly and without incident, and spending the first few minutes of it killing time with a former accidental paramour wasn’t exactly her idea of getting it off to a great start.
She squared her shoulders and stepped next to him at the Turbolift door.
‘Morning,’ she greeted him, politely.
Data turned his head to her. ‘Good morning.’
As they made eye contact, Tasha wished for what had to be the thousandth time that the Tsiolkovsky virus could have been kind enough to have left her memory blank or muddled. But, no. This was an inebriation that left perfect, vivid memories of the sufferer’s uninhibited behaviour. As she offered the android a perfunctory little smile of acknowledgement, some masochistic section of her conscious merrily pulled up an unbidden pornographic slideshow of their tryst, which snapped lurid images across her mind’s eye.
And he would have a photographic memory of the event too, she reminded herself, and wondered briefly whether he pictured her “in-flagrante” whenever they spoke with quite the same consistency that she did him. Of course he didn’t – did he? No, of course not. That was absurd. The whole damn situation was absurd.
‘Are you having a pleasant day?’ Added the android, conversationally.
‘I’ve only just got up,’ Tasha replied, turning back to face the Turbolift doors as they slid open, ‘so it’s hard to say, yet.’ She was struck by a sudden spark of suspicion as she stepped forward towards the lift. He didn’t know, did he…? ‘Why do you ask?’
Data tried to answer, but was momentarily distracted as he too tried to step through the Turbolift’s doors at the same time as her, causing them both to bump into one other and inelegantly wedge together in the doorway briefly. It didn’t help matters that the unexpected physical contact caused Tasha to involuntarily freeze on the spot while Data looked down at himself in mild surprise, ‘Hmm’d, attempted to step further forwards to no avail, then turned side-on slightly and squeezed through. Her path clear again, Tasha was able to step fully into the lift herself, folding her arms tightly across her chest and focussing her eyes on a spot just above Data’s left ear as the doors closed again behind them. A sudden realisation hit her, which firmly cemented her suspicions. She narrowed her eyes at him.
‘You’re off duty today.’
Data nodded, simply. ‘Indeed I am.’
‘So why are you going up to the Bridge?’
Data’s expression was transparent. He had been caught out, but for some reason, he couldn’t tell her. Instead of answering, he just repeated her question slowly, as though ruminating it. ‘Why… am I… going up to the Bridge…?’
‘Yes. Why are you going up to the Bridge?’
‘Why am I going up to the Bridge…?’
Tasha cocked her head a little, her arms still tightly wrapped around her chest. ‘Are you stuck in a loop, or something?’
‘Am I stuck in a loop…?’
She snorted a small laugh at his attempts to cover up. ‘For God’s sake, Data. You’re going up because the Captain wants everybody to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me but he told you not to tell me.’
‘No…’ Data attempted.
‘No?’ repeated Tasha, ominously. ‘So when the lift opens there won’t be a Bridge full of people shouting “surprise” and throwing streamers in my face?’
‘Most likely,’ nodded Data, ‘but it is not the Captain who has organised it. It was Commander Riker.’
Tasha gave the ceiling a despairing glance. ‘Dammit, Will!’
Data ‘Hmm’d again. ‘Would I be correct in concluding that you do not, in fact, wish to celebrate your birthday?’
‘Correct, Data,’ Tasha sighed.
‘I have found that that is not an uncommon issue,’ Data breezed. ‘Many individuals I have spoken to appear to begrudge the anniversary of their birth since they see it as a marker of the passage of time – a reminder that they are ageing…’
‘I’m not worried about getting old!’
Data frowned a little. ‘Then what reason could you have for shunning what is, essentially, a celebration of your existence?’
Tasha nodded curtly at him. ‘That’s your reason, right there.’
Data just blinked.
‘Birthday parties, Data? Cake and presents and a silly little song? It’s not about getting older, it’s about trying to stay a little kid. Why does my birth have to be celebrated every year? It’s all so childishly egotistical.’ She paused. ‘You think I had Birthdays when I was growing up? No, I was too busy surviving.’
‘So, your dislike of your Birthday is because it reminds you of your childhood, which was unpleasant…’
‘I didn’t have a childhood,’ Tasha replied as the lift came to a halt. ‘I just don’t see the point in any of th…’
‘Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you!’
Tasha snapped her head away from Data and pulled what she hoped was a convincing expression of delighted surprise as the doors slid open to reveal a Bridge full of song and confectionary. Riker (that son of a bitch), Deanna and Wesley all crowded her at the doorway with a large cake so that she couldn’t leave it until they had finished singing. She managed a small, genuine giggle at the expense of the distinctive Basso Profundo of the Klingon in the background, who blatantly didn’t know the words or tune and was limping along a note after everybody else, as well as Data, behind her, who was the only one who sang ‘Lieutenant Yar’ instead of ‘Dear Tasha’ in the third line. And when it was over, she put her hands to her chest as if overwhelmed at the wonder of it all.
‘Did we surprise you?’ asked Wesley, eagerly.
Deanna Troi, at his side, shook her head - a warm, knowing smirk at the corner of her lip. ‘She’s not surprised. Somebody must have told her.’
Riker tutted. ‘Data!’
‘I did not inform her,’ Data exclaimed, innocently. He furrowed his brow a little and added ‘…as such. Lieutenant Yar discovered our plot through deduction.’
Riker put his hand on Tasha’s shoulder and ushered her onto the Bridge. ‘Deduction, eh? Maybe you should get Tasha to join you in your next Sherlock Holmes adventure, then.’
‘You’d make a great Watson,’ added Geordi from behind the others, his mouth full of cake.
Tasha looked over her shoulder briefly in an attempt to somehow communicate silently to the android that she most definitely did not want to play detectives with him, and was worried to see that Data was staring very intently at her, with an expression that suggested he was Getting An Idea.
‘I don’t think I’d suit the mutton chops…’ protested Tasha, but still Data gazed at her, intently.
Suddenly, he blinked. Evidentially, he had come to some sort of decision. ‘Would you please excuse me,’ he asked, stepping back into the Turbolift. ‘There is something that I believe I should do.’
Tasha tried to say something to the android, but was distracted by a large slice of cake and a genial ‘Happy Birthday’ from her Captain, and when she turned around to the lift again, the doors had closed and Data was already gone.
-x-
The alert at her door made her jump a little. She set down her book and cautiously went to the door, hoping for all the world that it wasn’t Data.
But, of course, it was.
‘Data,’ she greeted curtly, blocking the doorway with her arm.
‘I am surprised that you are alone in your quarters,’ Data told her. ‘Did you not wish to join the others in Ten-Forward?’
Tasha smiled a little, but still kept her arm jammed stiffly against the doorframe. The flashes of memory were bad enough as it was without having him back in her private quarters to boot. ‘If Will Riker thought he could drag me in there after our shifts, do you think he would have bothered with Birthday cake on the Bridge?’
Data nodded in understanding. ‘You are avoiding a social situation as it is still your Birthday.’ He paused, momentarily. ‘May I request that, if you are not busy, you come with me?’
Tasha didn’t budge. ‘He sent you over to get me, didn’t he?’
‘I have not been sent by anybody.’
Still, Tasha stayed put.
‘I am not about to lead you to any social gathering,’ Data ensured her. ‘There is something that I wish to show you.’
Tasha wasn’t sure that that sounded any better. ‘Is important?’
‘I do not know,’ Data admitted. ‘It could be. I suppose that that is dependant on your interpretation.’
Tasha bit the inside of her lip. ‘OK, Data. You’ve got me intrigued now.’ She stepped out of her quarters, being careful not to brush past him as she did. ‘Show me what you’ve got.’ She winced a little at the slight double-entendre, although he didn’t seem to pick up on it at all as he led the way ahead of her.
-x-
They stopped at a door. Tasha groaned a little. ‘The Holodeck? Data, what Riker said about Sherlock Holmes was a joke, you know. I really don’t think it’s a good idea for…’
‘It is not a Sherlock Holmes simulation.’ He opened the door and gestured for her to enter. ‘Please. I should like for you to see it. It took me some time to prepare.’
She gazed at him sceptically, forcing the lurid mental snapshots to the back of her mind. His expression was open and blankly courteous, like somebody who had just stepped aside for a lady with an ‘after you’ gesture, and got stuck that way. He had no hidden agenda – that much she could read. He probably just wanted her opinion on some anomaly or other… that damned Holodeck was constantly on the fritz, after all.
She stepped inside.
And stopped.
And gaped.
She found her head automatically tilting upwards. Bright electric lights danced for what seemed like miles above her in the summer twilight sky. Above and around her were the screams of children and teenagers as they whizzed by in rickety pods and cars. The air smelled of sawdust, sugar and vinegar, and was hot with whirring petroleum engines and clamouring crowds.
‘A Funfair?’
Data stepped up next to her. ‘I did not have much time available to research experiences that are universally enjoyed by the young. An evening at an amusement fair was one which particularly captured my attention.’
Tasha craned her head further upwards to read the giant, illuminated sign almost directly above her – WONDERLAND.
‘It is still fairly rudimentary at this stage,’ Data continued in a faintly apologetic tone. ‘Standard attractions, although many are historically based. It commences at this point with rides and stalls from Coney Island, circa 1920, and becomes progressively more contemporary the further down this main pathway one ventures…’
Tasha took a good look at the hotdog stand directly to her left. She couldn’t help but notice that, in spite of Data’s apparent attention to historical detail, there was still something plainly wrong about it. The counter came up to the top of her head. The whole place was two times too big.
‘I hate to break this to you, Data,’ she breathed, ‘but you’ve got the scale all wrong.’
‘Not wrong,’ Data corrected her, ‘merely different. I have deliberately programmed this simulation at double size.’
‘Why?’
Data gazed at her as though she had just missed something glaringly obvious. ‘So that it can be experienced as a child would.’
Tasha blinked. ‘What?’ she asked, softly.
‘You did not have a childhood,’ Data replied. ‘That is a misfortune that I can sympathise with, since I did not have one either. However, due to the nature of my being, that is the natural state of affairs for myself. But not for you. Humans need to play during their infancy, it is how they develop, and you were denied that, which is why I have created this.’
Tasha stared at him, then up at the WONDERLAND sign again, then back at him once more. ‘This is for me?’
Data nodded. ‘Happy Birthday.’
‘You made this for me?’
‘I thought that you might appreciate something that can give you the opportunity to indulge in juvenile enjoyment in adulthood, without feeling self-conscious. You need not concern yourself about exhibiting childlike behaviour in front of your peers here. It is a private programme. If you wish, its existence can remain a secret between the two of us.’
Tasha’s smile of amazement faded swiftly. ‘Yes. Don’t we have a lot of those.’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t accept this, Data.’
‘You do not like it?’ Data blinked, serenely. ‘Very well. Thank you for coming to see it.’
‘It’s not that, it’s just… it’s too much.’ Tasha paused. ‘This is a romantic gift, isn’t it?’
‘It is a… Birthday gift,’ Data clarified, a little confused.
‘I don’t want to accept this if it’s going to give you the wrong impression about us,’ Tasha added. ‘Data, this is so sweet, so flamboyant. It’s the sort of thing somebody would do to tell someone that they… had feelings for them.’
‘I do not have any feelings.’
Tasha opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, wondering how better to approach the subject. She had shied away from mentioning The Incident ever since it had happened – it would have been easier to avoid a blunt discussion about it altogether until the end of time, as far as she was concerned. However, she was all too aware that, of all the people to attempt to skirt an issue with, Data was one of the worst. Tactful allusions had a tendency to sail several metres above his precisely coiffed head. She was also aware that this was actually the first private moment she had allowed them together – the first, and possibly last, opportunity for her to get Data’s take on events, and a better idea of how exactly that accident had happened. Perhaps the moment had her come for her to finally be straightforward about the matter. She steeled herself and gazed deliberately at him.
‘Why did you have sex with me?’
Data returned her gaze, plainly. ‘Because you asked me to.’
‘But you had to have known it was a mistake.’
Data nodded. ‘With hindsight, I can see that it was inadvisable to have indulged in sexual intercourse with a close colleague, particularly one who I had only recently met.’ He paused. ‘Are you insinuating that our sexual contact has somehow coloured my decision to create this programme?’
‘Data, I just wanted to…’
‘You may be right,’ interrupted Data, a spark of realisation in his eyes. ‘Have I been correct in assuming that, since our sexual encounter our social relationship has been strained – that it has caused you to feel animosity towards me?’
‘Not animosity, Data.’ Tasha hugged her arms a little. ‘Awkwardness, perhaps. But you’re right about the social relationship. I don’t think we have one to speak of.’
‘Then perhaps, without fully realising to what extent, I created this simulation as a means of recreating the social link that we lost.’
‘So you just want us to be friends,’ Tasha clarified.
‘I do not believe that we are capable of being “just friends” now, since that implies an entirely platonic relationship.’ Data paused again, watching the twinkling lights on the slowly revolving Ferris wheel. ‘It is not in my programming to pursue sex, and am not regularly propositioned. I perceive it as a very rare and unique bonding process, after which, my partner in that act becomes… of particular import to me.’ The android turned back to Tasha. ‘I have noticed that you have seemed troubled as a result of our union, which has disconcerted me somewhat. I have never elicited that reaction before. I contemplated whether it might have been a result of my performance, but you seemed quite content at the time of the act. And then I considered that you are the only partner I have had who was not in full control of their faculties during proposition or fulfilment.’
Tasha scuffed at the sawdust on the ground a little. ‘Neither of us was.’
‘That is not entirely true. The Tsiolkovsky Virus was particularly swift to act on myself, and by the time we parted company I was indeed thoroughly intoxicated by it, but in the initial stages I had a far greater wherewithal than you. I should have seen that you were not acting coherently, I should have realised that it was a mistake to accept your proposal, but I did not. I was keen to demonstrate my abilities to you, and to experience that unique closeness, so… I took advantage of you.’
Tasha spluttered a laugh.
‘In which case,’ persisted Data, ‘perhaps this simulation is, in fact, a gift of apology.’
Tasha continued to giggle. ‘Data. No. Believe me. No. You did not take advantage of me.’
She took a deep breath of sweet carnival air. If anything, she added, silently to herself, it had been the other way around. She had been aware of how accommodating he was when he had walked into her quarters. She – desperate to seduce – had asked him to have sex with her and he – programmed to oblige – had done so. And that was the end of it.
And now, she chastised herself, she had made an ass of herself. He had done this thoughtful, lovely thing for her, thinking that he had distressed or offended her in some way, and she had snubbed it, thinking… what was she thinking…? That somehow he’d broken all of his programming, found a hidden pool of emotion somewhere within himself and then, without breathing a word about it to anyone, fallen head over heels in love with her because they’d slept together once, months ago? Of course it wasn’t a romantic gift. It was simply what he said it was – an opportunity to be a child again, an opportunity to start anew… for both of them. She looked up at the bright electric WONDERLAND sign again.
‘This is beautiful,’ she told him. ‘I’ll take it.’
‘You have changed your mind.’
‘On one condition,’ Tasha replied. ‘I want you to promise you’ll share it with me.’
‘Are you certain?’ Data frowned. ‘I had assumed that you were avoiding me in social contexts. Would it not be uncomfortable for you sharing a secret Holodeck programme with me?’
‘It would be boring here on my own,’ Tasha told him, ‘and if this is a place for people who didn’t have a childhood, then you’re certainly as at home here as I am. Besides.’ She made a deliberate point of unfolding her arms, and clasped them behind her back in order to keep them from crossing over her chest again. ‘I think I would like us to try being “just friends”, Data. We might have blown that in the real world, but in here… well, if we’re children then we’re without sex, and if we’re without sex, then… I think that would make You And Me something much more simple – something I think we’d both find much easier to get along with.’
‘It would certainly be an intriguing insight into an element of human life with which I am not overly familiar, were I to seek to simulate the behaviour of a young child at a funfair,’ muttered Data, half to himself.
‘See?’ She slapped his arm a little with the back of her hand, delighting inwardly that the physical contact didn’t make her tense up or summon filthy memories. ‘You’re positively giddy about it already.’
‘Giddy…?’ Data repeated, blankly. ‘I do not believe that I am.’
‘Tell you what’ll make anybody giddy,’ Tasha grinned, ‘a ride on the Wall Of Death.’ She nodded at the attraction in question, making a few steps towards it as she did. ‘Come on!’
Data stayed where he was. ‘You wish us to be spun in a centrifuge.’
‘Yes,’ Tasha replied, a little impatiently. ‘Come on!’
‘Do you not wish to acquire some refreshments first?’
‘Are you scared?’
‘No. I am incapable of…’
‘Then what’s the problem?’
‘There is no problem. I simply think that it would be wiser to begin with…’
‘Data?’
‘Yes?’
‘Whose Birthday is it?’
‘Yours.’
‘Well, then.’
‘Well, then…?’
‘Wall of Death.’
The android sighed slightly, and walked after her. ‘Wall of Death.’
