SquidgeWorld Archive

Title: Curly Tom
Author: Poodle
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Set after the episode "In Theory. Data enlists the aid of a reluctant lieutenant when he decides to experiment with his social interaction programs.

Curly Tom
By Poodle~

"Currently, I am analyzing all available data concerning romantic encounters contained in the ship's libraries. Still, I require guidance. Would you be opposed to assisting me in this endeavor, Lieutenant Maxwell?"

The soft voice shot out of nowhere, giving Lieutenant Carla Maxwell a start. The circuit board she was working with slipped from her hands and clamored to the floor.

"Damn."

She bent to retrieve it, and, in the process, almost bumped heads with Lieutenant Commander Data.

"I have startled you; forgive me." The android second officer smoothly scooped the board from the floor and returned it to the workbench. "Perhaps, you were unaware of my presence."

"You scared me half to death." Her heart still thumped as she bent over her task and avoided the android's unnerving eyes. "What were you saying?"

"I am attempting to ascertain the reasons behind my recent failed romantic encounter with Genna."

Maxwell looked up and found the commander's expression serious.

"I was hoping, perhaps, you could explain," he continued.

"*Me?*" Since she'd been working with the commander, she found him prone to unpredictable behavior, but this question was by far his most surprising. It threw her. She cleared her throat. "Wouldn't it be best to ask your friend Commander LaForge?"

"I have attempted to do so on several occasions. His answers are vague. I was thinking a female perspective might be more insightful."

Maxwell began to laugh. "A female?"

He looked confused. "Indeed. You are a woman. Geordi claims female intuition is a viable force to be reckoned with. I was hoping you could utilize it in an attempt to analyze my failed relationship."

Maxwell laughed harder. "It's been years since anyone's called me that. I've been stuck down here in engineering so long I'm beginning to feel like part of the warp drive." She slapped the commander on the shoulder. "Look, kid, if it's female intuition you're wanting, go to Counselor Troi. She's young, attractive and probably has a hell of a lot more of the stuff than I ever dreamed of having."

A frown knitted the gold-tined forehead. "I have done so. She suggested I seek a fresh perspective." His eyes sought hers. "You are that fresh perspective."

Maxwell drew in her breath. "Look, I'm really no expert when it comes to this romance trash. It's been years since I've even had a date. Surely someone else..."

"Often my Human friends grow weary of what they deem to be endless queries and protracted delineations on a singular subject." He appeared apologetic. "They have done so in this matter."

"You really do have a problem."

The android's eyes pleaded.

She threw up her hands. "You look so damned pitiful, staring at me with those puppy-dog eyes. It's just a failed romance, not the end of the world."

"Puppy-dog eyes?" He looked perplexed. "I am aware of no genus of canine possessing eyes such as mine."

She laughed again. "You're a riot. Allow me to suggest," her hand returned to his shoulder, "You check out the little blonde who works in my department, Lieutenant Shamer. She's about your age, sharp as a tack and cute to boot. She can help you with your current catastrophic dilemma."

"'Cute to boot'?" he repeated softly. "Is this important?"

Maxwell sighed. "To you fellows it is. Now, you run on down and--"

"I do not wish to consult with this lieutenant," he broke in quietly. "I am unfamiliar with her. I would much prefer consulting with you. We have worked together now for two months, eleven days. I have found your company pleasant and compatible with my own. We have had drinks in Ten Forward. Are we not friends?"

"Yeah, sure, I guess." Her mind raced for an out. "Miles O'Brien and I go way back. We invited you along a few times, but it's not like we're buddies or anything. Can't you think of anyone you'd rather ask?"

The android's face took on a somber look. "Often my inquiries are inappropriate. I am not always able to ascertain before speaking if this will be the case. That is why I seek out individuals with whom I have an established rapport. I am...comfortable with you. I have found you to be candid, and as Chief O'Brien says, honest to a fault."

Maxell pursed her lips. "Oh, he said that, did he?"

"Indeed. He says you are straightforward and quite tough. He has often compared your gluteus to a metal commonly found in chemical compou--"

"He says I have an iron ass?" Her dark eyes narrowed. "Just wait'll I get a hold of him on this one!"

Data's eyes widened in distress. "Have I breached a confidence? Kindly delete that I made the statement."

"Not on your life." Maxwell gave a wilily grin. "Don't let it bother you. Miles had it coming. I'll never let him know you slipped. Now hurry on down and find that cute little thing. She's probably getting off about now."

Data nodded, but clearly his heart wasn't in it. "If you insist. Thank you for your time, Lieutenant."

He turned and moved toward the door.

Was there a slight slump in the mechanical gait?

Maxwell turned away. The man (android?) wasn't her problem. Besides, romance was the least of her areas of expertise. Even talking with the young man made her uneasy. Engines she knew; matters of the heart were a mystery.

He paused in the doorway.

She reluctantly met his gaze.

His innocent expression tugged at her conscience.

Silently she cured herself. "Puppies and kittens," she grumbled.

"Excuse me?"

"I've always had a soft spot for strays."

"I do not understand the analogy."

"Never mind." She swallowed. "Commander...I mean, Data. Let's have a drink."

His face brightened. "Ten Forward?"

"Sure, but don't think I'm helping you." Her eyes hardened. "I could use a scotch."

*Or two.*

~*~*~*~*

"Old as the hills and twice as dusty?" Data repeated softly. The subtle illumination of the table where they sat cast shadows against the sheen of his face set in lines of incomprehension. "I do not see how such a phrase can apply to a Human. Comparing one to a natural elevation of the Earth's surface--"

Maxwell laughed, drowning his words. "You're so damned literal, kid; don't let it worry you. It's just an old saying. I'm trying to explain I'm way out of touch. I don't see how I can help you."

"Lieutenant Maxwell--"

"Carla," she corrected. "Drop the formality, we're off work."

"Carla." He paused. "According to your records you could hardly be construed as aged. Chronologically you are no more than forty-six years of--"

"Hey, watch it!" She jumped in. "Lesson number one: never discuss a lady's age."

"Is that not an archaic concept?"

"I used to think so. Drink up." She motioned toward his glass. "We aren't here to discuss me."

He eyed the murky liquid with distrust. "I do not require the ingestion of alcohol."

"Need has nothing to do with it, silly." She brought the glass to her lips and savored her second scotch. "Bottoms up."

The android complied by downing the liquid in a single gulp. A grimace distorted his features.

"For g guy with no emotions you sure have a wide range of expression." She snickered. "You should see your face."

"The taste is...unpleasant." He set the glass aside, still frowning. "I have discovered many Human traditions contain little merit."

"We Humans set a lot of stock in social customs, so you'd better get used to it if you're going to start dating." She leaned back in her chair and scanned the languid silhouettes of crewmates lingering by the bar and wandering in pairs around the room. "This is a key stomping ground for potentially significant others."

He absorbed her words in silence, then commented. "I am uncertain if my objective is to seek social engagements with the opposite sex. I only wish to comprehend..."

"You'll never understand if you persist in remaining outside the loop. Experience is the key. That's why I suggest you get to know Lieutenant Shamer. She's attractive and from what I know of her, the two of you should have a lot in common."

"Attractive? Commander Riker made a similar observation with respect to Genna when I consulted him concerning whether to pursue a relationship. It appeared to be his primary criterion for encouraging the encounter. Should the esthetic qualities of a woman be my main concern as well?"

Maxwell pulled in her breath. "That's a tough one. I'm gonna be blunt. It shouldn't be, but, if the truth's told, in most cases, it is. Especially with young people."

Data's visage assumed a lost expression. "I am unable to determine what does and does not constitute beauty. The variance appears incalculable. Perhaps you could assist."

"You're kiddin' me." She leaned forward and gave him a wicked grin. "In that case, I'm Venus De Milo. You just search for a woman with all my perfect attributes, and you'll live happily ever after."

His confusion deepened. "I have noted in you many qualities considered admirable: intelligence, dedication." He met her eyes. "Should I now include beauty among these?"

"God, you're naïve," she smirked. "I wish I'd met you about ten years ago. Data, I'm lying through my teeth. Even in my better days, I was never considered attractive."

He frowned. "This is to your detriment?"

She scowled. "I'm not under scrutiny here. You are. Don't get off the subject again. We need to find you a date."

"Commander Riker said something to that effect. He stated it was necessary to continue pursuing a multitude of such relationships in order to achieve proficiency. He compared my encounter with Genna to riding a horse, but the analogy eludes me."

"Horseback riding?" Maxwell's face darkened. "Leave it to Riker to get tacky."

"He said if one is thrown, it is best to get back on."

"Oh, I get it." She chuckled and finished her scotch. "He's right. It's time for you to get back on. And speaking of which, Lieutenant Shamer--"

"You require a beverage," Data interrupted softly. "I shall get you another."

Before she could protest, he scooped up her glass and headed for the bar.

She watched the android's lean form as he moved through the shadowy room, and her eyes passed over him with speculation. His back was straight, narrowing to a trim waist; his gait only slightly betrayed his artificial nature.

"Nice rump," she mumbled to herself. Lieutenant Shamer had commented a time or two that she was attracted to men with such physiques. Maxwell studied the slim fit of the Starfleet uniform hugging Data's frame. Not all personnel were equally flattered by such sleek lines.

She sighed. If only the silly guy would take the bait, and let her off the hook. She missed the familiarity of the engine room.

Data returned, glass in hand, and reclaimed his seat.

She welcomed the scotch's mellow warmth with a thankful gulp. "You really should develop a taste for this stuff. It'll relax you. From what I've seen, you could use a little loosening up."

"It is doubtful alcohol would produce such an effect in my metabolism."

"Pity." She took another swallow. "Back to Shamer. I've noticed her watching you out of the corner of her eye for weeks now. She say's you've got nice--" She met the android's befuddled expression, and reconsidered her wording. "Well, suffice it to say, she thinks you're pretty cute. I think you should ask her--"

"How is it possible for a spherical object to contain corners?"

His question threw her. "What the hell sort of tangent are you off on now?"

"You stated that the Lieutenant was watching me out of the corner of her eye. Eyes are spherical in nature, therefore--"

"Don't get bogged down in details. I'm trying to help you, kid. Lord knows you need it." She thumped his nose. "Pay attention to the facts."

Data blinked at the onslaught. "If we are dealing in actualities, is not that fact significant?"

"No!"

Several patrons turned in their direction, and Carla flushed and looked down into her drink.

"No," she hissed softly. "What's important is that Shamer thinks you're attractive."

"This is significant?"

"You bet your boots it is. It'll get you past the preliminaries."

"Genna stated that I was handsome." The android pondered, turning his thoughts inward. "I have never considered my appearance in such terms. Do you agree with her assessment?"

The air rushed from her lungs. "You sure ask doozies."

The android waited patiently for a response.

Feeling on the spot, she studied the unassuming gold-brushed features dominated by a nose, and those large pupiled eyes that held a lost, somewhat bewildered quality as they questioned into hers. "Handsome? I don't use that archaic term often. I suppose, you're...nice looking."

He seemed satisfied with her evaluation. "Although I contain no pre-established criteria for such, I consider you attractive, as well."

Her eyes flew wide, then narrowed. "I've warned you, boy; stick to the subject. I don't want to have to hurt you."

"It is unlikely you could achieve that objective," a slight smile tipped his mouth, "Carla."

She laughed. "I've heard from a couple of the guys; you're tougher than about ten of them." She took a swig from her glass to clear her throat. "Now, about Shamer..."

"I have never initiated romantic overtures. I am unfamiliar with the specifics involved. Could you elaborate?"

"What!" She dropped her face into her hands. "Are you trying to tell me women always put the moves on you?"

"Essentially, that is correct." He sounded apologetic. "I have never approached a woman with the intent of encouraging intimacy."

Maxwell groaned. "What have I gotten myself into?" She peeked through her fingers. "Have you any libido at all?"

"It would appear not."

"Damn! What was that asshole thinking when he slapped your parts together? He left you like a blind man playing racket ball."

"I was not privy to Doctor Soong's thoughts with respect to establishing my sex drive, but it appears likely a malfunction--"

She moaned and covered her face. "Please don't tell me that you're a virgin."

The golden eyes rounded. "I stated no such thing."

She sighed with relief and dropped her hands. "You had me going for a moment. I honestly don't know what to expect where you're concerned."

"That is something you need not expect," he told her quietly. "I am familiar with many aspects of Human sexuality. The rudiments of relationships are what elude me. I am uncertain how to," he appeared contrite, "ask for a date."

He looked so pathetic, she couldn't help but laugh. "You really are lost, aren't you? Okay, I'll give you a tip, but don't hold me to it if it backfires Just remember I warned you, I'm no expert." She breathed deeply. The blind leading the blind. "You shimmy up to Shamer, privately, of course, and ask her if she'd like to go out. Now, does that sound too difficult for that mega genius brain of yours?"

He thought for a moment, then shrugged. "No." But a frown creased his brow. "Out where?"

She moaned "On a *date*."

"What is considered appropriate for a first date? It is my understanding dinner in one's quarters can be construed to imply more than casual intent. I do not wish to convey conflicting objectives."

"You mean you don't want to end up in the sack?"

"Sack?" His face froze. "Why should I wish to--"

"Bed. You're not looking to get her into your bed."

"I have no bed," he stated bluntly.

She began to laugh.

"I do not wish to convey that intent," he interjected quietly, confused by her laughter. "It would be...misleading."

"Good point." She dried her eyes and considered his dilemma as she finished her drink and signaled toward the bar for another. When her scotch arrived she leaned forward and studied the commander's perplexed expression. "What do you like to do?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's important to select a woman you have something in common with. Someone who likes similar things. What do you enjoy doing? Clearly sex isn't at the top of the list. Skiing, hiking, dancing?"

His bewilderment intensified. "Enjoy?" he responded softly, then his eyes sought hers. "I am unable to--"

"The botanical gardens are gorgeous during simulated nightfall."

His face lit with sudden animation. "Nature intrigues me! Do women consider such environments conducive to platonic intimacy?"

"Platonic intimacy? Talk about a contradiction in terms. Some women are charmed by nature. I spend hours in the gardens when the lights are down. I've seen quite a few couples stroll the paths arm-in-arm. You wait for just the right moment, snuggle close, wrap your arm around her," she leaned near and dropped her voice, "then smooch."

"Smooch?" He frowned, and accessed his internal directory. "Ah! Smack, kiss, tongue her--"

"Data, that's vulgar slang!"

"Sorry." He gave her a timid smile. "Sometimes it is difficult to determine whether a phrase is appropriate. Individuals are often reluctant to inform me when I...goof. I typically deduce it in context or from their responses."

She chuckled. "You've had some tough breaks."

"Humans frequently find my sordid blunders humorous. I am uncertain whether I agree."

"I kinda know how you feel. When I was younger, and not nearly so worldly as I am today," her sarcasm was lost on her companion, "I used the word..." she leaned near and whispered in his ear, then continued aloud, "because my friends told me it was a Klingon greeting."

Data looked surprised. "The term is used in reference to the Vulcan mating cycle in a somewhat.... inappropriate manner. It is considered highly obscene."

"I know." She snickered. "Isn't it a riot? I could have killed them."

Data was uncertain of the proper response. "It would seem that a reevaluation of the tern -friendship' was in order."

She sipped her drink. "Miles was one of them. I survived, and so will you." She leaned back and studied the android's face in the suffused light. "What you need is the opportunity to observe authentic Humans in action. Discreetly, of course. This is, if Human behavior is what you're aspiring to."

"Indeed. I was constructed with Human form; therefore I attempt to emulate them as much as possible. Alas, my endeavors are fraught with failure." His face assumed a wistful look. "Perhaps with time and patience I will one day achieve my aspirations."

Hearing the man speak of being constructed was unnerving. Her gaze passed over he metallic sheen of his face and lingered on the expressive eyes. It was rumored Lieutenant Commander Data had no emotions, but his pensive eyes spoke otherwise. What must it be like to be so close and yet so far from one's dreams?

Data suddenly darted forward and clasped her arm.

She almost jolted from her seat in surprise. "What the--"

"Let us do so." His face lit with intrigue.

"Do what, kid?" she mumbled, catching her breath.

"Observe Humans interacting in such a manner." He pulled her to her feet.

"You gotta be joking," she stammered and tried to finish her drink. "Humans can get mighty snarly when they're mating."

"I was not implying we should intrude upon their coupling, but rather the prerequisites." His tone lowered smoothly. "Discreetly, of course."

"Oh, of course," she quipped. "I wouldn't have it any other way." Then her eyes narrowed. "You better think again, Da--"

"You enjoy the botanical gardens, do you not?" He retained his hold on her arm.

"Yeah, sure, love um. But really, you'd better reconsid--"

"Come." He tugged her toward the exit. "You shall accompany me on this excursion. It will be most informative."

"Informative, my ass." Maxwell fought to finish her drink, but the android's enthusiasm over his newfound quest impeded her attempts, and she tossed the glass to a table, startling the couple lounging there. "All right, all right, don't yank it off! I'll accompany you on your *excursion.*" She mimicked him tone. "But ya owe me one."

Her reward was his usual slight smile.

~*~*~*~*

"Why me?" she grumbled as he tugged her down the shrouded path. "Look, kid, surely you've got female friends who--"

"The *Camellianx sapas* is indigenous to Tridel Two." Data pulled up short when his inquisitive nature was captured by the brilliant scarlet and blue blooms of a flower cultivated near the trail. Its limbs were gently folding for sleep and the petals were nodding. "It assumes an almost dormant state at nightfall."

"Yeah, right, whatever." Maxwell had passed the plant numerous times during her nightly meditations. "Quite a few of these things sleep at night."

"It would be incorrect to conclude that the flora sleeps, as such a state is commonly reserved for higher life forms and generally includes a period of dreaming, which clearly plants are incapable of."

"Give me a break, already." She kneeled beside the plant to watch it fold. Reaching out, she gently probed it, and a tentacle delicately encircled her finger. She smiled. "They call these Curly Toms. You're a higher life form, aren't you?" She looked up at the android standing above her.

"Indeed. Why do you ask?"

She shrugged. "I read somewhere that androids don't sleep, and they sure as hell don't dream. So, I guess you and old Curly Tom, here, have something in common."

Data knelt and peered at the plant, then turned to meet her gaze. "I am uncertain if it is considered a compliment to be equated with flora. Although I do not dream, there exists a marked disparity in intellect between myself and...Curly Tom."

Maxwell laughed. "I believe you're offended." She continued to stroke the flower.

"I am incapable of offense."

"Yeah, right." She tickled the blooms and a second wrapped her finger. "See, it likes me."

"You are endowing the *Camellianx sapas* with Human qualities it does not possess," Data corrected reasonably.

She snorted. "Kill joy. You're so damn literal. No wonder you can't get a date."

He blinked. "I do not desire such an engagement."

"Sure you don't. That's why you've spent so much time *researching* the subject." Curly Tom completed its fold, and its languid form fell dormant. "I'd love a spring of this stuff."

Data's eyes widened. "That would not be permitted. They are most rare."

"Yeah, I know Keiko guards this place like a tyrant." She settled back on her haunches and deeply inhaled the exotic fragrances surround them. "Can you appreciate beauty?"

He mimicked her pose somewhat stiffly, and sniffed the air. "I do not know if that is the proper word to apply in my case. I find myself drawn to nature." His eyes sought hers. "Is this a form of appreciation?"

"Sure, why not? Can't say that I know much about androids. I've spent my life in engineering, but I've never studied cybernetics. You seem like a regular guy to me." She traced the golden contours of his face, traveled down to the stilted pose of his trim frame and laughed softly. "If you'd just loosen up a bit, you'd be fine. You could use a few more of those scotches."

His aquiline nose wrinkled. "They possess a decidedly...distasteful quality."

She chuckled at his expression. "You're not half bad, even if you did sucker me into this anthropological survey of yours."

"I have observed no Human couples." He peered with disappointment into the shadows.

"They're sporadic. You don't really intend to stare at people do you, boy?"

"It is impolite to stare," he corrected softly. "I have discreetly studied Human mating rituals on numerous occasions in Ten Forward. I find them most intriguing. This environment, however, should afford a much more natural habitat than I previously considered. Your suggestion that I come here--"

"Hold up there," she interrupted. "I suggested you take a date here. Not come to disrupt people's privacy like a hoot owl in the dark."

"I shall disrupt no one's privacy," he assured. "I am able to detect the presence of others at distances prohibitive to their perceiving mine. As well, I am able to delete any information gleaned which could be construed as personal, while still retaining the quality of the experience."

"I don't know what to say to that."

"Inquiry. Hoot owl in the dark?"

"Lingering in the shadows with those huge yellow eyes, that's what you remind me of." She laughed, and Curly Tom next to them stirred at the sound.

"Apparently we are disrupting its dormant cycle. Perhaps to its detriment. We should leave." He stood and extended his hand.

"Ah, a gentleman." Maxwell accepted the gesture and rose. Still retaining her grip, she turned his palm over and studied the intricate lines and pores. "Nice hand. Feels real."

He blinked. "Although there remains some debate as to whether I am genuinely sentient, indisputably I am real."

She slapped his shoulder. "No offense."

"None taken. Shall we walk?" He motioned down the shadowy path circling into the foliage beyond. "There are many fascinating specimens present. Would you care to view them?"

She shrugged and followed. "I wonder if Lieutenant Shamer enjoys the garden? I'm trying to recall if she's ever mentioned it. Last I heard, her latest craze was an ancient art form known as disco dancing."

"You still retain the belief that I require social interaction with the opposite sex to achieve my objectives?"

"Shamer really thinks you're cute," Maxwell prompted, attempting to catch the android's interest. "You'd be much better off consulting with some sweet young thing. You'd learn in half the time."

"Possibly." He considered her words. "I have often found that analyzing an event bears little resemblance to the actual experience."

"Now you're talking."

"And yet, involving an unknown entity is seldom wise."

"It's called taking a chance, kid. Go for it. It's an integral part of growth."

He paused and gazed down at her in the shrouded light, his expression curious. "Do you take chances, Carla?"

She cleared her throat, suddenly uneasy beneath the golden stare, and looked away. How many years had it been since she'd taken a risk? "One gets stuck in a rut. Adventure is for the young."

"And the young at heart," he piped up, and his eyes lit. "I have utilized an analogy! It is correct in this context, is it not?"

"Boy, you *do* get excited over the littlest things."

His face beamed.

"That's correct," she felt obliged to encourage. The childlike essence of this bewildering man prompted her to pat his arm. "You're doing fine. Now, if I could just steer you in the direction of that young lieutenant...she swears parts of your anatomy are top notch."

The owl eyes rounded in surprise. "To which aspect of my anatomy was she referring?"

Maxwell winked, stringing him along. "Ask her." If she couldn't appeal to the android's libido, maybe his curiosity would suffice.

"Perhaps I shall," he mumbled, mulling it over.

"Atta boy. Now we're getting somewhere. She should be in--"

"*Delonix singia!*" The android suddenly rushed ahead and kneeled beside a furry bush, his attention riveted. "I was unaware Keiko had achieved successful cultivation of the species."

"Damn," Maxwell grumbled and trudged to his side. "Are you always this scatterbrained?"

He looked up. "To throw loosely about," he quoted, then his face assumed indignation. "Perhaps you are unaware my brain is capable of assessing information at sixty trillion operations per second. I am easily able to follow a multitude of subjects simultaneously, and--"

"Vanity, Mister Data?" She grinned. "Then why are we unable to carry on a single, coherent conversation?"

He tilted his nose upward. "Because *you* are able to compute only one."

"Touché." She knelt at his side and studied the shrub. "Looks like a scraggly bush to me."

The android's eyes lit with intrigue. "They are most anomalous."

"Right-O. Furry bushes were at the top of my list of anomalies to witness when I joined Starfleet."

He gave her a look of impatience, then reached out and shook the plant. The vegetation promptly pulled itself from the ground and walked away.

Maxwell gasped and flopped onto her backside.

The shrub replanted itself several feet in the distance.

"I'll be damned."

A quirky grin touched Data's lips.

"This place is dangerous," she mumbled.

"*Delonix singia* is quite harmless," he reassured. "Their ability to move is merely an involuntary response to stimuli."

"I'm certainly not cut out to be a botanist. At least in engineering I'm assured the computer isn't going to jump up and scurry away, or initiate conversation. With machines you know what to..." She looked into the yellow eyes and faltered. "Oh, shit."

"Excuse me? Reference to defecation appears misplaced in this context."

She grimaced. "At least, with *some* machines you know what to expect."

"I acknowledge that I am a machine," he responded softly.. "There is no need to assume you may have injured my feelings."

"Thanks, Kid. Are you going to be a gentleman, again, and help me up?" She extended her arm from her undignified position on the ground, and he took it.

Together they stood.

"Would roses indigenous to Earth be more to your liking?" he asked, relinquishing her arm. "Commander Riker stated such flowers produce an almost aphrodisiac affect in the female gender. They are certainly less...startling than the *Delonix sigia.*"

"Roses are fine. Why do you ask?"

"There are several bushes in that direction." He pointed into the distance. "I am able to discern their fragrance."

"You can locate a rose from this distance by its smell?"

"Indeed." He led the way. "By any other name it would smell as sweet."

She burst into laughter. "A rose is a rose is a rose."

He escorted her to a clearing where a multitude of roes bloomed in a blaze of color only slightly veiled by the artificial night. Their aroma surrounded the couple.

Maxwell breathed deeply, and her eyes scanned the tranquil scene of well-manicured bushes cloaked in shadowy seclusion. "Heavenly." She reached out and plucked a yellow bloom.

"Carla!"

"You can't tell me these are most anomalous," she protested, bringing it to her nose.

"Could this be deemed a romantic location?" Data broke into her thoughts.

"What?" She turned and caught the sheen of his face in the subtle light.

"Is this one of the locations conducive to the romantic encounters you referred to?"

"Yeah, sure." She returned her attention to the flower. "These are gorgeous--"

Strong arms wrapped around her.

"What the hell..."

She was pulled to a firm chest.

"Kid, I think you've got a wire crossed or..."

His lips found hers.

Shit!

She thought to pull free from the android's embrace, but the expert caress of his lips lulled her to a stupor. His body pressed solid and warm against hers. She savored the closeness, and squeezed the trim form closer. How long had it been since she'd been kissed by a man? She parted her lips, prolonging the contact. For a guy who knew next to nothing about women, he was a damned good kisser.

Her hands rushed to the small of his back, relishing the muscles running through his slim physique. This guy was an android? Her tongue danced at the edges of a pair of streamlined lips, but couldn't gain entrance. "Open up, sugar, " she murmured. "I don't bite."

He pulled from her embrace and blinked.

Maxwell caught her breath and struggled to still her pounding heart.

"Was that correct?" he inquired, his expression innocent.

"What?" she mumbled.

"Did I execute the procedure correctly? I am uncertain if the sequence was just as you specified."

"Sequence?" She fought to still the tremors.

"I was attempting to emulate proper dating rituals as you previously dictated. Did I perform adequately?"

The air rushed from her lungs.

He eagerly awaited her evaluation.

"That was a--" She caught her breath, "-trial run?"

He nodded.

"You ought to get those lips of yours patented!"

His mouth parted in astonishment. "Which implies I am a thing."

"Which implies you're priceless."

He looked confused. "Am I to infer you were pleased with my...trial run?"

"Pleased! If the remainder of your performance is anything like the opening scene, you've got a..." She gazed into the innocuous face with its questing eyes, and paused, speculating.

"You were saying?"

She assumed a Socratic pose, and cleared her throat. "I think maybe, in my expert opinion, you need to try your experiment one more time." She paused at his look of surprise, then hurried on. "Just to be sure you've got it perfected."

A frown knitted his brow. "I was certain I performed the kiss accurately."

"We all make mistakes; don't let it get you down." She patted his arm in consolation. "I'm willing to sacrifice another go around."

He shrugged and took her into his arms. "Your guidance is most appreciated, Carla."

"Think nothing of it."

He kissed her.

She molded against the firm body without hesitation, and savored the caress of warm lips against her own. She moaned and deepened the kiss. Aggressively she kneaded the shoulders beneath the form fitting uniform and, slipping further, indulged an impulse by grasping a rounded behind.

He gasped.

Her tongue found his lips, but the mouth was already closed. "Remember the inappropriate slang for kiss?" She rasped against his ear, then returned to his mouth and kissed.

He blinked in surprise. "That could hardly be construed as casual--"

"Do it!"

His tongue slipped past her teeth, and her mouth molded around it, refusing to relinquish its prize. She devoured his lips, madly. *You asked for it, kid.* Her hands returned to the appealing derriere to caress, and he mirrored her moves. She giggled, and marveled at the sound. She hadn't giggled in years. Her hands played over the firm muscles of his rear, kneading roughly, then she realized with a jolt, the android was continuing to mimic her actions. She led him on a lively chase across various body parts, wondering if he'd catch on. He didn't. She dissolved into laughter and ended the game, again finding his lips. They were moist and soft against hers. She tickled them with her tongue, then whispered something in his ear.

His eyes grew round. "Carla, we previously established that phrase is *not* a Klingon greeting. Perhaps you have forgotten."

The look on his face shattered her concentration. She burst out laughing and released his tempting body from the prison of her embrace.

"You're a card! You're absolutely adorable!"

He appeared befuddled. "You are pleased?"

She nodded, snickering. "You pass."

"I contend a kiss of that nature would be construed as a prelude to sexual intimacy." He looked concerned.

"If she's lucky."

"Excuse me?"

Maxwell laced her arm though his and together they strolled into the fragrant artificial night.

His voice wafted to her ears. "Thank you, Carla."

She smiled, but it was lost in the dim. "No, Data, thank *you*."

Abruptly she stopped and pulled him close.

"Carla?"

Her hand slipped down his back, trailed to the round of his behind and squeezed.

His head tilted in puzzlement. "You appear to possess a marked affinity for my..."

She silenced his lips with hers. When the kiss ended she met the liquid gold of his eyes and offered the yellow rose.

He looked confused.

"I *do* have a bed, kid."

Tentatively, he touched a fragile petal. "Indeed?"

~*~*~*~*

The lights of engineering glared as she walked into the room, causing her to squint and rub her brow. Surely four scotches the night before shouldn't have this effect.

"You're getting old, Maxwell," she grumbled to herself, then a smile weaved across her mouth. "But not *too* old."

She thought of the pleasant young man and their secluded evening. She's always considered the commander more of a bewildering stray than a flesh and blood man. She grinned-maybe not flesh and blood, but...

Alive enough.

"You sure look chipper today, boss."

The voice came from behind and she turned to find a petite blonde poised, hands on hips, a curious light in her wide blue eyes.

"Mornin', Shamer," Maxwell mumbled. "Had a nice evening, is all."

"I don't suppose you want to talk about it?" The young woman's eyes twinkled.

"Don't suppose I do," Maxwell grumbled and marched on. "There ought to be a law against being so damned cute in the morning."

The lieutenant's tinkling laughter followed Maxwell as she crossed the room to the main console where her eyes fell upon an intricate crystal vase.

She froze.

A single yellow rose was assiduously placed among a spray of baby's breath. Maxwell touched it in awe.

"The flower of romance."

"Commander Data brought that by earlier," Shamer was explaining. "He was rambling something about floral aphrodisiacs."

"Romantic inducers," Maxwell injected impatiently. "The rose."

"Whatever." The blonde shrugged. "I'm sick to death of the things. I get tons of them."

"I think they're beautiful." Maxwell smiled and stroked the fragile petals. Her eyes fell upon the card.

"I prefer daffodils," the young woman sniffed.

"A rose is a rose is a rose," she whispered, reaching for the note.

"Well, you can have that one."

Her hand froze in mid-air. "Have it?"

"The guy asked me for a date." Shamer snickered. "Why do I attract the weirdoes?"

"A date?"

"It might be interesting." The girl turned and sauntered away. "But you can have the rose."

Her vision blurred, and her touch lipped away from the flower.

"Oh, by the way," Shamer's voice wafted through the fog, "he left this weed, too."

Carla turned.

A sprig of blue and scarlet blooms weaved around the girl's hand. "He said it was a *sapas* something or another."

"*Camellianx sapas!*"

"Anyhow, it's for you." Shamer held it out and cringed. "It's creepy if you ask me."

A smile touched Lieutenant Maxwell's lips as Curly Tom gently spiraled around her fingers and found a familiar home. "No one asked you."

~*End