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Geordi’s a mess.
He’s wearing out a circle in his living quarters’ carpet, pacing over and over with no real end in sight. A part of him wishes he’d never done anything in the first place. If he hadn’t had that final wet dream that pushed him over the edge, hadn’t woken up with hardened resolve, hadn’t ran into Data in Ten Forward on break and had the perfect opportunity to ruin everything, maybe he’d be relaxing in Engineering right now, contentedly dealing with machines nowhere near as troublesome as the human heart.
But he did ruin everything, and now there’s nothing for it but to wait out the few hours or however long until he gets his final verdict. He knows what it’s going to be. He should know better than anyone that androids don’t have feelings, no matter what he’s projected. He’s a grown man. He should know the difference. And he should’ve just respected that difference and left it how it was.
The door chimes, and Geordi has half a mind to ignore it. Ordinarily, it’d probably be Data calling, someone he almost never ignores, but under the circumstances, it’s more likely to be Councilor Troi wanting to give him a psyche evaluation. Or Worf offering to help pound out his frustrations in the gym. Or Riker in the holodeck. Except he wisely didn’t tell any of those people, and for all he knows, it could be the captain wanting to consult him on highly delicate matters of top security.
It’s probably not, but Geordi finally tells the computer, “Open,” anyway, because clearly he can’t be allowed to be alone with his thoughts much longer. Then he really will need Deanna.
The door to his quarters slides smoothly open, whirring unobtrusively into the wall, and Data’s radiant face tilts into view, the rest of his trim body still held precariously in the hallway. With his face devoid of any answer, Data asks, “Geordi, may I come in?”
Geordi stares for a few seconds, half sure his VISOR is malfunctioning, then grunts, “Sure.” So Data steps inside, and the door closes up again right after him.
A few graceful strides, and Data’s standing right in front of Geordi, just the way they both were in the back of Ten Forward by the porthole, silhouetted by the racing stars while Geordi made his confession. Because Data seems to have no immediate explanation, Geordi says first, “I thought you said you wanted time.”
“Yes,” Data confirms. “I apologize for the imprecise nature of the expression, but ‘I need some time’ was logged in my memory banks as the correct response in such a situation.”
He doesn’t go on. As Data’s rarely said anything he didn’t mean, even accounting for misunderstandings, Geordi stresses, “Data, it’s been five minutes.” Even though it feels like a whole hell of a lot more.
Data corrects, “Precisely six minutes and forty seven seconds. But I believe that was sufficient.”
Again, he doesn’t elaborate, and Geordi presses. “For what?”
“For formulating the appropriate program. I already had some relevant material available from prior attempts at similar programs, and my familiarity with your patterns allowed for a more streamlined compilation of the pertinent files. I should now be a suitable ‘boyfriend’ for you.” He pauses, while Geordi just stands there feeling dumbstruck, and then continues, “While I have attempted to tailor this program to your specific needs and wishes, we are fortunate that if I cannot meet your expectations, you have enough knowledge of my systems to correct accordingly. I believe this will therefore be an opportune partnership.” Another pause, during which Geordi still has nothing. Data’s mouth twitches slightly, mimicking a human frown, and he adds in a conciliatory tone, “I do apologize for making you wait in the interim, but as you are very important to me, I wanted to be sure the program was complete before engaging it. As it is, we may now commence a relationship.”
Before Geordi can do anything more that wallow in bewilderment, Data leans forward and brushes his lips over Geordi’s, soft and sweet and something Geordi’s been craving for way too long. Unfortunately, he’s still too shocked to absorb it properly, and by the time he realizes what’s happening, Data’s already straightening out again.
Data asks, as innocently as ever, “Was that satisfactory?”
Geordi’s way past that. He finally explodes, “Wait a minute, that’s not what I was worried about! When you said you wanted time, I thought you needed it to think about whether you liked me back! Data, do you like me back?” He realizes right after he’s said it how foolish that sounds.
Data tells him quietly, “I am not capable of human emotions.” And Geordi just lets out a tight breath, because he knew that already.
But after a moment of silence, during which Geordi fidgets and tries to figure out what he thought would come of this in the first place, Data says, “You have always been my dearest friend, Geordi. And if I were to be with anyone romantically, you are the one I would choose. You are an ideal partner. In my own way, I am pleased to have secured you.”
Geordi doesn’t know what to say.
He winds up letting out a small, almost sad laugh, because that’s just so Data. And he supposes that’s what he wanted. What he’s grown so attached to. If Data weren’t as ridiculous about this as he is about everything, he wouldn’t be Data at all. He would be the warm, alluring, oddball android Geordi’s fallen head over heels for, just the type of handsome friend he wants to always have beside him.
Data asks again, “Was that sufficient?”
Geordi shakes his head to clear his thoughts but mutters, “Yeah,” and he steps closer to wrap Data in a tight embrace, hoping to try that kiss again.