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r_scribblesBit more Rollercoaster for ye.
Give me a shout if you see any errors, guys. This chapter's set during early season 6 - up to and including A Fistful of Datas, although most of it doesn't actually make reference to any specific episodes.
ROLLERCOASTER
-x-
The Best Intentions
-x-
One
-x-
‘So, then…’
Her half-sentence was left hanging in the air as he merely stared at her, waiting for her to continue.
She cleared her throat. ‘What do we do now?’
‘We are both due on the Bridge in fifty-four minutes time.’ Data gave her a vague smile. ‘I suggest that we prepare for duty.’
She returned his smile, inwardly thanking him for not rounding their remaining free time up to the nearest second, and got up. ‘Good idea. But I meant more in the long run.’
She padded over to her small bathroom and briskly stripped as her new boyfriend courteously turned his back at the door. She grinned to herself as she stepped into the sonic shower – she hadn’t told him that he shouldn’t look, and Heaven knew he’d seen her naked plenty of times before. Rocco would have just tried to jump in the shower along with her. She decided that it was going to be very nice dating somebody so polite – somebody who didn’t just take everything for granted. Somebody without hormones.
‘I am not certain how you wish this romance to evolve,’ Data continued, his back still turned. ‘As you are already aware, I have never been in a lengthy sexual relationship. You, however, have. I had assumed that perhaps you would be the better experienced to deal with such decisions.’
‘You calling me and Rocco a Relationship, now?’ Tasha asked.
‘Would you not?’
‘Rocco was really no less a failed experiment than Jenna was,’ Tasha replied. ‘I just didn’t have the sense to end it when I should have done.’ She got out of the shower and wrapped herself in a dressing gown. ‘I think the first thing we should do is arrange a proper date.’ She tapped him on the shoulder. ‘You can turn around again now, by the way.’
Data turned back to face her with a polite nod.
‘What about this evening?’ added Tasha, replicating a much-needed coffee.
‘I am to assist Geordi in Engineering following my day shift on the Bridge,’ Data told her, ‘after which, I shall be leading the night watch…’
‘…right up until tomorrow’s day shift,’ Tasha finished for him. She took a slurp of coffee. ‘And after that, I have choir practice. I’d cancel, but we’re down to sing at the Zucker wedding next week, and you know how Birgit Zucker loves her Schoenberg.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Impossible stuff.’
‘The atonal style is often perceived as taxing to an ear more used to octatonic harmony. However…’
‘What about the evening after that?’ Tasha asked, anxious to cut Data off before he went into a full tangential spiel.
‘Dr Crusher and Lieutenant Barclay are performing a dialogue that evening,’ Data reminded her. ‘We have both already confirmed that we shall be in attendance. I am due on the Bridge once more shortly after that event is due to finish.’
Tasha sighed. ‘We’re going to run across this problem a lot, aren’t we? Half the time, I’m so busy I barely get time to turn around, and you don’t even stop to rest. When are we gonna get chance to so much as see one another?’
‘We often “see one another”,’ Data replied, puzzled. ‘Are we not “seeing one another” right now?’
‘I meant, as a couple.’
Data pondered this. ‘Do couples not attend the theatre together? Is that not an acceptable “date”?’
Tasha tilted her head at him. ‘Are you being sarcastic, Mister?’
‘I was not aware that I was.’
‘Hmm.’
‘I was merely about to suggest,’ Data added, ‘that we could make a romantic event of the dramatic performance that we shall be attending.’
Tasha smiled a little. ‘Sit at the back, let our hands wander, make out in the interval, that sort of thing?’
‘I do not believe that that would be advisable behaviour,’ Data frowned.
‘It’s OK,’ Tasha laughed, ‘I was joking.’
‘Oh.’
She loosened her dressing gown tie. ‘Or was I…?’
‘I…’ Data’s frown deepened. ‘This is becoming a most confusing conversation.’
Tasha leaned in and gently kissed him. ‘How much longer do we have before we’re on duty?’
‘Forty-nine minutes.’
‘Well, it won’t take me nearly that long to finish off getting ready.’ She kissed him again, glad to feel his reciprocating pressure on her lips. ‘You got anything you need to do for the next forty-nine minutes?’
She guided his hand beneath her dressing gown to her naked breasts.
Data leaned in closer so that she could reach behind him and begin unfastening his tunic. ‘It is forty-eight minutes, now.’
She giggled, her lips on his. ‘You don’t get any better at pillow talk, do you?’
‘What would you like me to say?’
She never answered his question. They both made it to the Bridge with ten seconds to spare, Tasha having forgone putting on any makeup or styling her hair. It was worth it.
-x-
Beverly Crusher had long ago given up on the pretence that she found it irritating for people to come up to her and congratulate her on her latest performance before she’d had time to change out of her costume or remove her stage make-up. After all, Reg was always very honest about enjoying the praise of his audience – a proud smile beaming through his automatic blushes. To suggest that she didn’t enjoy commendation when she felt it had been well earned was a lie. Besides, tonight’s audience had brought with it a happy little new development of its own. It surprised Beverly how nice it looked to see either Tasha or Data holding hands like that with anybody, let alone one another. She couldn’t help but shoot little smiles at the new couple while Deanna enthused at her and Worf asked for the twentieth time whether she was thinking of directing a production of Uncle Vanya any time soon, and hope that the pair would take the time to speak with her as they mingled. Not that she wanted to meddle in any way, of course. She was not a meddler. She just wanted to talk with them. And maybe ask a favour of them, but that was only because they looked so very right. She wasn’t going to force or coerce them, just ask nicely. She was not going to meddle. Data and Tasha, their hands still entwined, made their way towards her. She beamed.
‘Look at you two! I doubt that I’m the first person to say “and about time, too”…?’
‘You are not,’ Data replied, patiently.
‘We just wanted to congratulate you before we left,’ added Tasha. ‘Data’s back on duty in a minute…’
‘Seventeen minutes…’ corrected the android.
‘So we wanted to sneak off an have a little time to ourselves,’ interrupted Tasha in a conspiratorial tone.
‘Oh, sure,’ nodded Beverly, ‘sure.’ She paused. ‘Only… you’re both singers, aren’t you?’
Tasha and Data slid a glance at one another.
‘Yes,’ replied Tasha, warily. ‘Why?’
‘Just something about seeing the pair of you together,’ Crusher told them. ‘You just look right.’
‘Right for what?’
Beverly clasped her hands together and set her face. ‘Next week I’ll be holding auditions for my next big production - Little Shop of Horrors. I really think you two should consider going up for the leads.’
‘”Horrors”?’ echoed Data, perplexed.
‘It’s a late 20th Century American musical,’ Crusher told him. ‘Basically, just Faust in a Florist.’
‘Oh,’ replied Data, although from his expression she could tell that she hadn’t actually shed any light on the matter as far as he was concerned.
‘I’m sorry,’ Tasha replied, ‘I can’t act.’
‘You don’t know that ‘til you try.’
‘Well, I definitely know I can’t dance.’
‘With a good coach, I bet you could,’ Beverly persisted. ‘And if that didn’t work, you could just have people dance around you.’
‘What is the rehearsal schedule?’ Data asked.
Tasha shot the android an angry glare.
‘We’d fit it around what times are best for the core cast,’ Beverly reassured them.
‘You’re gonna do it,’ Tasha hissed at Data, ‘aren’t you? You’re gonna audition!’
‘I find acting to be a most beneficial means of further understanding humanity,’ Data replied. ‘I generally accept any role that I am offered to perform, on the proviso that it does not interfere with my duties.’
‘Data,’ Tasha continued, ‘we’re having trouble getting any free time together as it is. If you’re going to be rehearsing for a play, that’s just going to swallow up what precious little we’ve got left.’
Beverly bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry. If I’d known it would have caused this much trouble…’
Tasha didn’t shift her attention from Data. ‘Do you want to audition for this play?’
‘I have no “wants”.’
‘Cut the crap, Data. Would you rather go for the part or not?’
‘If you also took a part in the production,’ Data reasoned, ‘we would have ample time together during the rehearsals.’
‘It wouldn’t be like it is on duty,’ Beverly added, encouragingly. ‘I don’t have any rules against my cast members canoodling during rehearsal time. In fact, for Seymour and Audrey it’s pretty much mandatory. There is at least one on-stage canoodle.’
‘Fine,’ Tasha sighed. ‘I’ll go to the stupid audition. Happy now?’
‘I am incapable of being “happy”.’
Tasha rolled her eyes and left. ‘Don’t I know it.’
Data gazed back at Beverly in confusion.
So far tonight, she reminded herself, her interference had only unwittingly robbed the new couple of their only free time and caused Tasha to become enraged – Dr Crusher was adamant that she’d intervene with the pair no more. Unfortunately, she reached this conclusion just as her mouth, seemingly unbidden, had finished advising Data that he should go after Tasha.
She puffed out a sigh as he followed his girlfriend into the crowd.
‘Well, that went well,’ she told herself. ‘That went very well indeed.’
-x-
The most frustrating thing about trying to dance, Tasha thought to herself… well, one of the more frustrating things about trying to dance… one of the many frustrating things about trying to dance was that her body would remember its natural agility the very instant she stopped attempting to move to music. Switching on music and asking her to do a few set moves to it was like clicking a magic switch that transformed her from Lieutenant Commander Natasha Yar into a hapless stumbling clown. As soon as she was no longer required to dance she turned back into herself and wondered why the muscles she had relied on to be strong and graceful all her life were so utterly incapable of performing this perfectly simple task. She pondered this – albeit briefly – as she tripped over Data’s foot, twisted herself round and tumbled to the floor for the fourth time that session. As she fell, she automatically rolled herself so that she would be able to spring, unhurt, back to her feet almost instantly. How was it she could do that, but not the Cha-Cha-Cha?
She pushed back her fringe in frustration as Dr Crusher approached them.
‘What’d I do wrong this time?’
Beverly shook her head blankly and shrugged. ‘You fell over. Don’t ask me how. These were the simplest steps I could come up with.’
‘Still think all I need is a good dancing coach?’ She managed a self-deprecating smile, but clearly Dr Crusher was in no mood to joke back.
The Doctor shook her head again. ‘What are we going to do? We’ve been trying to rehearse this number for nearly an hour now and we’re just not getting anywhere.’ Dr Crusher clasped her hands behind her head. ‘Let’s call it a night for now, huh? I need to come up with some new ideas.’
Tasha nodded, relieved. ‘OK, coach.’
She waited until she and Data left the Holodeck and the doors closed behind them before grinning at him and taking his hand.
‘An evening off after all,’ she beamed. ‘I’ll have to trip over your feet more often.’
Data glanced at her, levelly. ‘I trust that your ungainliness these evening was not an intentional ploy to shorten the rehearsal session.’
‘You don’t seriously think I’d do that, do you?’
‘In theory,’ Data admitted, ‘no. But there is much about your personality which I still find difficult to understand and impossible to predict.’
‘Well,’ Tasha retorted, ‘it wasn’t on purpose. It may have escaped your attention, but I don’t particularly like screwing up.’
‘I am aware of that aspect of your persona.’
‘And I really, really don’t want to screw up this duet,’ Tasha added. ‘It’s my favourite part of the whole play.’
‘Because of the kiss at the end?’
‘Well, there’s that,’ smiled Tasha, leaning in a little closer, ‘but I think the song’s very pretty. It’s very… very us.’
‘”Us”…?’
‘All that “nobody ever treated me kindly” stuff in my verse,’ Tasha replied. ‘Doesn’t that remind you of… you know… that first time, with the Tsiokolvski virus? When I was pouring my heart out to you?’
‘No,’ Data replied, matter-of-factly. ‘Seymour is attempting to woo Audrey in the song. He offers her salvation through the relationship he proposes. I have never done any of those things with anybody, let alone you.’
‘Oh,’ sighed Tasha. ‘Well, I think it’s pretty, anyway.’ She decided to change the subject. ‘Still, it’s nice to finally have some time to spend with you.’
‘We have been in one another’s company since 0700 hours this morning,’ the android replied.
‘With other people around,’ Tasha reminded him, ‘and jobs to do.’ She ran a mischievous finger over his ear. ‘It’s been like spending the whole day in a cake shop and not even being allowed to nibble a bit of icing.’
Data nodded in understanding. ‘Due to the shortened rehearsal, we now have three hours and thirty-seven minutes at our disposal before I am required again elsewhere. I take it that you wish to fornicate. Shall we retire to your quarters, or mine?’
Tasha pulled her hand away from him and folded her arms, peevishly. ‘Why do you automatically assume that? Is that all you think there is to this relationship?’
‘I have found that rhetorical imagery comparing an individual to a foodstuff is most likely to be an allusion to sexual congress with that person. Did I misunderstand your meaning, Tasha?’
‘Well… no,’ Tasha grunted. ‘But I was only being playful. I didn’t necessarily mean that I just wanted to jump straight into bed with you.’
‘Going into bed is immaterial,’ Data added, ‘since thus far only 15% of our sexual activities have been in or on a bed of any description…’
‘Yes,’ Tasha replied through gritted teeth, ‘I’m aware of that, Data. The rest of the ship doesn’t really need to know that information as well.’
Data frowned. ‘Do you then not wish to indulge in sex this evening?’
‘I didn’t say that, either.’ She paused. ‘What do you want to do with our evening off?’
‘I have no wants. I shall do whatever it is you wish to do.’
Tasha gave him a hollow smile. ‘Isn’t that just what every woman wants to hear?’
Data, as usual, failed to pick up on the faint sarcasm in her tone. ‘Perhaps it is.’
-x-
‘Well howdy, partner.’
‘Howdy yerself, Ma’am.’
Tasha burst into fond hysterics at the android’s response. She walked over to where he was sitting - his metal skull glimmering with flashing lights as Geordi tinkered with his positronic brain.
‘You seriously can’t help talking like that, can you?’
‘Reckon not.’
She giggled again. ‘So, what kind of cowboy are you, then? Tall, broody stranger? Clean-cut guitar player? Toothless prospector?’
‘Don’t tease him,’ muttered Geordi. ‘He’s malfunctioning. Nobody comes and laughs at you when you get sick.’
‘Oh, c’mon, Geordi,’ Tasha smiled. ‘We’ve all seen him malfunction worse than this. He isn’t even properly possessed this time – compared to Graves and those convicts that said they were from the Essex, this is peanuts. Just a little boo-boo. I swung by to kiss him better. Isn’t that what girlfriends do?’
‘You came to poke fun at him.’
‘Well,’ twinkled Tasha, ‘isn’t that what girlfriends do, too?’
Geordi shook his head with a begrudging smile. ‘Do what you gotta do, just don’t get under my feet. It’ll take more than a kiss to make him better. Trust me.’ His grin widened. ‘I already tried that.’
Tasha turned to Data. ‘You hussy.’
‘Ain’t nobody been tryin’ to kiss me fer the good of my health or no reason, young lady. You’d best watch whose word you’ll be believin’ round these parts.’
Tasha folded her arms, cynically. ‘I’m pretty sure nobody ever actually spoke like that.’
‘Probably not,’ Geordi replied, ‘this is just Reg’s idea of what people spoke like in the Ancient West. At least this is the stuff he programmed into the Holodeck. He’s an Engineer, not a Historian.’
Tasha smiled. ‘So, how long d’you think it’ll take to get him back to normal again?’
Geordi shrugged. ‘Couple of hours, maybe.’
‘I’ll make it worth your while if you make it take a little longer.’
Geordi frowned at her, confused.
‘We should get the evening off from rehearsals if Data’s still malfunctioning by the time they start,’ Tasha explained.
Geordi gave her an indulgent sigh. ‘I’ll tell Dr Crusher he’ll need the evening off to recuperate.’
‘Fer the love of Betsie, I don’t need no rest and recuperation time!’
‘Data, I’m taking every opportunity I can to snatch back whatever time alone we can from our schedules,’ Tasha replied. ‘I think you having to undergo open brain surgery to stop you sounding like Calamity Jane counts as one of those possibilities.’
Data frowned up at Tasha from his seat. ‘Prob’ly.’
‘You’re very sweet when you’re malfunctioning, you know that?’
‘Sweet?’ Data cocked his head. ‘Ain’t never had no malfunction go and change my taste, Missy. Far as I know, I don’t taste of nothin’ at all, saving a faint aftertaste of plastic, and I only got your word on that one…’
‘OK,’ replied Tasha, hurriedly, ‘that’s not really a topic for us to share with our friends.’ She shot Geordi an embarrassed smile. ‘May talk like a character from a badly written Western, but he’s still the same old Data, huh?’
Geordi managed to nod in reply as he bit down a fit of giggles.
Tasha sighed. ‘Just let me know when he’s back to his old, stilted self, huh?’
Geordi nodded again.
She paused in the doorway and looked back at the android, calmly staring into the middle distance as the quietly giggling Chief Engineer went back to his work. It didn’t faze her, she noted. Not one bit. Not the sections of missing scalp reminding her that he was a machine, not the fact that he was malfunction-prone, not his tendency to commit humiliating faux-pas. It didn’t upset her or annoy her. It probably would have done, years ago now, but something had changed. What had changed? Was it him? Was it her? Maybe they’d both changed a little.
So, what was it that she did feel? Fondness…? Of course. She’d always been fond of him. But, lurking at the back of her mind as she watched him was the troubling sensation that it was something else – something stronger.
There was a word that she didn’t dare to use. That word only brought her misery. She had used that word with her parents, and they had been suddenly, violently taken from her. She had used it with Ishara, who had turned her back on her, and then betrayed her affection. And if she ever found herself using that word in conjunction with Data… he could never return that. Not honestly. She knew what she was getting into, she reminded herself, she always had. She wasn’t going to act as though his emotional shortcomings were a surprise to her, as Jenna had apparently done. She wasn’t going to screw this up. She refused to let that happen.
She was absolutely, positively not going to allow herself to fall in love with him.
Give me a shout if you see any errors, guys. This chapter's set during early season 6 - up to and including A Fistful of Datas, although most of it doesn't actually make reference to any specific episodes.
ROLLERCOASTER
-x-
The Best Intentions
-x-
One
-x-
‘So, then…’
Her half-sentence was left hanging in the air as he merely stared at her, waiting for her to continue.
She cleared her throat. ‘What do we do now?’
‘We are both due on the Bridge in fifty-four minutes time.’ Data gave her a vague smile. ‘I suggest that we prepare for duty.’
She returned his smile, inwardly thanking him for not rounding their remaining free time up to the nearest second, and got up. ‘Good idea. But I meant more in the long run.’
She padded over to her small bathroom and briskly stripped as her new boyfriend courteously turned his back at the door. She grinned to herself as she stepped into the sonic shower – she hadn’t told him that he shouldn’t look, and Heaven knew he’d seen her naked plenty of times before. Rocco would have just tried to jump in the shower along with her. She decided that it was going to be very nice dating somebody so polite – somebody who didn’t just take everything for granted. Somebody without hormones.
‘I am not certain how you wish this romance to evolve,’ Data continued, his back still turned. ‘As you are already aware, I have never been in a lengthy sexual relationship. You, however, have. I had assumed that perhaps you would be the better experienced to deal with such decisions.’
‘You calling me and Rocco a Relationship, now?’ Tasha asked.
‘Would you not?’
‘Rocco was really no less a failed experiment than Jenna was,’ Tasha replied. ‘I just didn’t have the sense to end it when I should have done.’ She got out of the shower and wrapped herself in a dressing gown. ‘I think the first thing we should do is arrange a proper date.’ She tapped him on the shoulder. ‘You can turn around again now, by the way.’
Data turned back to face her with a polite nod.
‘What about this evening?’ added Tasha, replicating a much-needed coffee.
‘I am to assist Geordi in Engineering following my day shift on the Bridge,’ Data told her, ‘after which, I shall be leading the night watch…’
‘…right up until tomorrow’s day shift,’ Tasha finished for him. She took a slurp of coffee. ‘And after that, I have choir practice. I’d cancel, but we’re down to sing at the Zucker wedding next week, and you know how Birgit Zucker loves her Schoenberg.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Impossible stuff.’
‘The atonal style is often perceived as taxing to an ear more used to octatonic harmony. However…’
‘What about the evening after that?’ Tasha asked, anxious to cut Data off before he went into a full tangential spiel.
‘Dr Crusher and Lieutenant Barclay are performing a dialogue that evening,’ Data reminded her. ‘We have both already confirmed that we shall be in attendance. I am due on the Bridge once more shortly after that event is due to finish.’
Tasha sighed. ‘We’re going to run across this problem a lot, aren’t we? Half the time, I’m so busy I barely get time to turn around, and you don’t even stop to rest. When are we gonna get chance to so much as see one another?’
‘We often “see one another”,’ Data replied, puzzled. ‘Are we not “seeing one another” right now?’
‘I meant, as a couple.’
Data pondered this. ‘Do couples not attend the theatre together? Is that not an acceptable “date”?’
Tasha tilted her head at him. ‘Are you being sarcastic, Mister?’
‘I was not aware that I was.’
‘Hmm.’
‘I was merely about to suggest,’ Data added, ‘that we could make a romantic event of the dramatic performance that we shall be attending.’
Tasha smiled a little. ‘Sit at the back, let our hands wander, make out in the interval, that sort of thing?’
‘I do not believe that that would be advisable behaviour,’ Data frowned.
‘It’s OK,’ Tasha laughed, ‘I was joking.’
‘Oh.’
She loosened her dressing gown tie. ‘Or was I…?’
‘I…’ Data’s frown deepened. ‘This is becoming a most confusing conversation.’
Tasha leaned in and gently kissed him. ‘How much longer do we have before we’re on duty?’
‘Forty-nine minutes.’
‘Well, it won’t take me nearly that long to finish off getting ready.’ She kissed him again, glad to feel his reciprocating pressure on her lips. ‘You got anything you need to do for the next forty-nine minutes?’
She guided his hand beneath her dressing gown to her naked breasts.
Data leaned in closer so that she could reach behind him and begin unfastening his tunic. ‘It is forty-eight minutes, now.’
She giggled, her lips on his. ‘You don’t get any better at pillow talk, do you?’
‘What would you like me to say?’
She never answered his question. They both made it to the Bridge with ten seconds to spare, Tasha having forgone putting on any makeup or styling her hair. It was worth it.
-x-
Beverly Crusher had long ago given up on the pretence that she found it irritating for people to come up to her and congratulate her on her latest performance before she’d had time to change out of her costume or remove her stage make-up. After all, Reg was always very honest about enjoying the praise of his audience – a proud smile beaming through his automatic blushes. To suggest that she didn’t enjoy commendation when she felt it had been well earned was a lie. Besides, tonight’s audience had brought with it a happy little new development of its own. It surprised Beverly how nice it looked to see either Tasha or Data holding hands like that with anybody, let alone one another. She couldn’t help but shoot little smiles at the new couple while Deanna enthused at her and Worf asked for the twentieth time whether she was thinking of directing a production of Uncle Vanya any time soon, and hope that the pair would take the time to speak with her as they mingled. Not that she wanted to meddle in any way, of course. She was not a meddler. She just wanted to talk with them. And maybe ask a favour of them, but that was only because they looked so very right. She wasn’t going to force or coerce them, just ask nicely. She was not going to meddle. Data and Tasha, their hands still entwined, made their way towards her. She beamed.
‘Look at you two! I doubt that I’m the first person to say “and about time, too”…?’
‘You are not,’ Data replied, patiently.
‘We just wanted to congratulate you before we left,’ added Tasha. ‘Data’s back on duty in a minute…’
‘Seventeen minutes…’ corrected the android.
‘So we wanted to sneak off an have a little time to ourselves,’ interrupted Tasha in a conspiratorial tone.
‘Oh, sure,’ nodded Beverly, ‘sure.’ She paused. ‘Only… you’re both singers, aren’t you?’
Tasha and Data slid a glance at one another.
‘Yes,’ replied Tasha, warily. ‘Why?’
‘Just something about seeing the pair of you together,’ Crusher told them. ‘You just look right.’
‘Right for what?’
Beverly clasped her hands together and set her face. ‘Next week I’ll be holding auditions for my next big production - Little Shop of Horrors. I really think you two should consider going up for the leads.’
‘”Horrors”?’ echoed Data, perplexed.
‘It’s a late 20th Century American musical,’ Crusher told him. ‘Basically, just Faust in a Florist.’
‘Oh,’ replied Data, although from his expression she could tell that she hadn’t actually shed any light on the matter as far as he was concerned.
‘I’m sorry,’ Tasha replied, ‘I can’t act.’
‘You don’t know that ‘til you try.’
‘Well, I definitely know I can’t dance.’
‘With a good coach, I bet you could,’ Beverly persisted. ‘And if that didn’t work, you could just have people dance around you.’
‘What is the rehearsal schedule?’ Data asked.
Tasha shot the android an angry glare.
‘We’d fit it around what times are best for the core cast,’ Beverly reassured them.
‘You’re gonna do it,’ Tasha hissed at Data, ‘aren’t you? You’re gonna audition!’
‘I find acting to be a most beneficial means of further understanding humanity,’ Data replied. ‘I generally accept any role that I am offered to perform, on the proviso that it does not interfere with my duties.’
‘Data,’ Tasha continued, ‘we’re having trouble getting any free time together as it is. If you’re going to be rehearsing for a play, that’s just going to swallow up what precious little we’ve got left.’
Beverly bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry. If I’d known it would have caused this much trouble…’
Tasha didn’t shift her attention from Data. ‘Do you want to audition for this play?’
‘I have no “wants”.’
‘Cut the crap, Data. Would you rather go for the part or not?’
‘If you also took a part in the production,’ Data reasoned, ‘we would have ample time together during the rehearsals.’
‘It wouldn’t be like it is on duty,’ Beverly added, encouragingly. ‘I don’t have any rules against my cast members canoodling during rehearsal time. In fact, for Seymour and Audrey it’s pretty much mandatory. There is at least one on-stage canoodle.’
‘Fine,’ Tasha sighed. ‘I’ll go to the stupid audition. Happy now?’
‘I am incapable of being “happy”.’
Tasha rolled her eyes and left. ‘Don’t I know it.’
Data gazed back at Beverly in confusion.
So far tonight, she reminded herself, her interference had only unwittingly robbed the new couple of their only free time and caused Tasha to become enraged – Dr Crusher was adamant that she’d intervene with the pair no more. Unfortunately, she reached this conclusion just as her mouth, seemingly unbidden, had finished advising Data that he should go after Tasha.
She puffed out a sigh as he followed his girlfriend into the crowd.
‘Well, that went well,’ she told herself. ‘That went very well indeed.’
-x-
The most frustrating thing about trying to dance, Tasha thought to herself… well, one of the more frustrating things about trying to dance… one of the many frustrating things about trying to dance was that her body would remember its natural agility the very instant she stopped attempting to move to music. Switching on music and asking her to do a few set moves to it was like clicking a magic switch that transformed her from Lieutenant Commander Natasha Yar into a hapless stumbling clown. As soon as she was no longer required to dance she turned back into herself and wondered why the muscles she had relied on to be strong and graceful all her life were so utterly incapable of performing this perfectly simple task. She pondered this – albeit briefly – as she tripped over Data’s foot, twisted herself round and tumbled to the floor for the fourth time that session. As she fell, she automatically rolled herself so that she would be able to spring, unhurt, back to her feet almost instantly. How was it she could do that, but not the Cha-Cha-Cha?
She pushed back her fringe in frustration as Dr Crusher approached them.
‘What’d I do wrong this time?’
Beverly shook her head blankly and shrugged. ‘You fell over. Don’t ask me how. These were the simplest steps I could come up with.’
‘Still think all I need is a good dancing coach?’ She managed a self-deprecating smile, but clearly Dr Crusher was in no mood to joke back.
The Doctor shook her head again. ‘What are we going to do? We’ve been trying to rehearse this number for nearly an hour now and we’re just not getting anywhere.’ Dr Crusher clasped her hands behind her head. ‘Let’s call it a night for now, huh? I need to come up with some new ideas.’
Tasha nodded, relieved. ‘OK, coach.’
She waited until she and Data left the Holodeck and the doors closed behind them before grinning at him and taking his hand.
‘An evening off after all,’ she beamed. ‘I’ll have to trip over your feet more often.’
Data glanced at her, levelly. ‘I trust that your ungainliness these evening was not an intentional ploy to shorten the rehearsal session.’
‘You don’t seriously think I’d do that, do you?’
‘In theory,’ Data admitted, ‘no. But there is much about your personality which I still find difficult to understand and impossible to predict.’
‘Well,’ Tasha retorted, ‘it wasn’t on purpose. It may have escaped your attention, but I don’t particularly like screwing up.’
‘I am aware of that aspect of your persona.’
‘And I really, really don’t want to screw up this duet,’ Tasha added. ‘It’s my favourite part of the whole play.’
‘Because of the kiss at the end?’
‘Well, there’s that,’ smiled Tasha, leaning in a little closer, ‘but I think the song’s very pretty. It’s very… very us.’
‘”Us”…?’
‘All that “nobody ever treated me kindly” stuff in my verse,’ Tasha replied. ‘Doesn’t that remind you of… you know… that first time, with the Tsiokolvski virus? When I was pouring my heart out to you?’
‘No,’ Data replied, matter-of-factly. ‘Seymour is attempting to woo Audrey in the song. He offers her salvation through the relationship he proposes. I have never done any of those things with anybody, let alone you.’
‘Oh,’ sighed Tasha. ‘Well, I think it’s pretty, anyway.’ She decided to change the subject. ‘Still, it’s nice to finally have some time to spend with you.’
‘We have been in one another’s company since 0700 hours this morning,’ the android replied.
‘With other people around,’ Tasha reminded him, ‘and jobs to do.’ She ran a mischievous finger over his ear. ‘It’s been like spending the whole day in a cake shop and not even being allowed to nibble a bit of icing.’
Data nodded in understanding. ‘Due to the shortened rehearsal, we now have three hours and thirty-seven minutes at our disposal before I am required again elsewhere. I take it that you wish to fornicate. Shall we retire to your quarters, or mine?’
Tasha pulled her hand away from him and folded her arms, peevishly. ‘Why do you automatically assume that? Is that all you think there is to this relationship?’
‘I have found that rhetorical imagery comparing an individual to a foodstuff is most likely to be an allusion to sexual congress with that person. Did I misunderstand your meaning, Tasha?’
‘Well… no,’ Tasha grunted. ‘But I was only being playful. I didn’t necessarily mean that I just wanted to jump straight into bed with you.’
‘Going into bed is immaterial,’ Data added, ‘since thus far only 15% of our sexual activities have been in or on a bed of any description…’
‘Yes,’ Tasha replied through gritted teeth, ‘I’m aware of that, Data. The rest of the ship doesn’t really need to know that information as well.’
Data frowned. ‘Do you then not wish to indulge in sex this evening?’
‘I didn’t say that, either.’ She paused. ‘What do you want to do with our evening off?’
‘I have no wants. I shall do whatever it is you wish to do.’
Tasha gave him a hollow smile. ‘Isn’t that just what every woman wants to hear?’
Data, as usual, failed to pick up on the faint sarcasm in her tone. ‘Perhaps it is.’
-x-
‘Well howdy, partner.’
‘Howdy yerself, Ma’am.’
Tasha burst into fond hysterics at the android’s response. She walked over to where he was sitting - his metal skull glimmering with flashing lights as Geordi tinkered with his positronic brain.
‘You seriously can’t help talking like that, can you?’
‘Reckon not.’
She giggled again. ‘So, what kind of cowboy are you, then? Tall, broody stranger? Clean-cut guitar player? Toothless prospector?’
‘Don’t tease him,’ muttered Geordi. ‘He’s malfunctioning. Nobody comes and laughs at you when you get sick.’
‘Oh, c’mon, Geordi,’ Tasha smiled. ‘We’ve all seen him malfunction worse than this. He isn’t even properly possessed this time – compared to Graves and those convicts that said they were from the Essex, this is peanuts. Just a little boo-boo. I swung by to kiss him better. Isn’t that what girlfriends do?’
‘You came to poke fun at him.’
‘Well,’ twinkled Tasha, ‘isn’t that what girlfriends do, too?’
Geordi shook his head with a begrudging smile. ‘Do what you gotta do, just don’t get under my feet. It’ll take more than a kiss to make him better. Trust me.’ His grin widened. ‘I already tried that.’
Tasha turned to Data. ‘You hussy.’
‘Ain’t nobody been tryin’ to kiss me fer the good of my health or no reason, young lady. You’d best watch whose word you’ll be believin’ round these parts.’
Tasha folded her arms, cynically. ‘I’m pretty sure nobody ever actually spoke like that.’
‘Probably not,’ Geordi replied, ‘this is just Reg’s idea of what people spoke like in the Ancient West. At least this is the stuff he programmed into the Holodeck. He’s an Engineer, not a Historian.’
Tasha smiled. ‘So, how long d’you think it’ll take to get him back to normal again?’
Geordi shrugged. ‘Couple of hours, maybe.’
‘I’ll make it worth your while if you make it take a little longer.’
Geordi frowned at her, confused.
‘We should get the evening off from rehearsals if Data’s still malfunctioning by the time they start,’ Tasha explained.
Geordi gave her an indulgent sigh. ‘I’ll tell Dr Crusher he’ll need the evening off to recuperate.’
‘Fer the love of Betsie, I don’t need no rest and recuperation time!’
‘Data, I’m taking every opportunity I can to snatch back whatever time alone we can from our schedules,’ Tasha replied. ‘I think you having to undergo open brain surgery to stop you sounding like Calamity Jane counts as one of those possibilities.’
Data frowned up at Tasha from his seat. ‘Prob’ly.’
‘You’re very sweet when you’re malfunctioning, you know that?’
‘Sweet?’ Data cocked his head. ‘Ain’t never had no malfunction go and change my taste, Missy. Far as I know, I don’t taste of nothin’ at all, saving a faint aftertaste of plastic, and I only got your word on that one…’
‘OK,’ replied Tasha, hurriedly, ‘that’s not really a topic for us to share with our friends.’ She shot Geordi an embarrassed smile. ‘May talk like a character from a badly written Western, but he’s still the same old Data, huh?’
Geordi managed to nod in reply as he bit down a fit of giggles.
Tasha sighed. ‘Just let me know when he’s back to his old, stilted self, huh?’
Geordi nodded again.
She paused in the doorway and looked back at the android, calmly staring into the middle distance as the quietly giggling Chief Engineer went back to his work. It didn’t faze her, she noted. Not one bit. Not the sections of missing scalp reminding her that he was a machine, not the fact that he was malfunction-prone, not his tendency to commit humiliating faux-pas. It didn’t upset her or annoy her. It probably would have done, years ago now, but something had changed. What had changed? Was it him? Was it her? Maybe they’d both changed a little.
So, what was it that she did feel? Fondness…? Of course. She’d always been fond of him. But, lurking at the back of her mind as she watched him was the troubling sensation that it was something else – something stronger.
There was a word that she didn’t dare to use. That word only brought her misery. She had used that word with her parents, and they had been suddenly, violently taken from her. She had used it with Ishara, who had turned her back on her, and then betrayed her affection. And if she ever found herself using that word in conjunction with Data… he could never return that. Not honestly. She knew what she was getting into, she reminded herself, she always had. She wasn’t going to act as though his emotional shortcomings were a surprise to her, as Jenna had apparently done. She wasn’t going to screw this up. She refused to let that happen.
She was absolutely, positively not going to allow herself to fall in love with him.
