#im sorry if theres like... amd established way to write data in fic

[scaredandbored]

androids cannot act without premeditation

this ones for @datalaur , i hope it’s ok! it will be ooc, as i’ve only done one story with characters that aren’t mine before, but i did try! doing it as a data-centric one was a bit of a mistake, he’s v e r y difficult for an emotional wreck like me to get right lmao. i’m so sorry it took so long, i really am. not only did i have difficulty with the characterisation of data, i also decided to try and make it a small collection of shorts that tied up nicely at the end, which took me waaaay longer than i anticipated, i’m sorry! i hope it’s ok (it’s also a little rushed at the end because i was working on it for ages but nothing seemed right and i just wanted to get it done aaaaaa i’m sorry)

word count : 2’292 (and a whole lot of errors because the final draft was done on my ipad at two thirty am i’m so sorry lmao)

i) when he “short-circuited” (not literally)

It was a routine check on a peaceful outpost, there was no need for Data to accompany the away team while he still had responsibilities aboard the ship, and when he had voiced this opinion to Riker, the first officer had agreed. Geordie had rested his hand briefly on Data’s shoulder as he gave his hurried goodbye before dashing off to transporter room 3 with Riker, Barclay, and an engineer from the outpost that had beamed aboard to explain the situation on the ground. Data was surprised when the loss of the heat from Geordie’s hand sent a slight chill through his system, the same way it did when the environmental controls in his quarters malfunctioned.

Shaking his head lightly, he ran a quick diagnostic on himself while he made his way to Engineering, a diagnostic that came up clear, which was puzzling. Data made a note to discuss the irregularity in his thermal controls upon Geordie’s return to the Enterprise. While monitoring the repairs being made to the dilithium chamber from the last skirmish the ship had engaged in, Data began to plan an evening meal with Geordie. Knowing his friend would likely be tired from an extended shift away with no access to his painkilling hyposprays, a low light intensity level was absolutely necessary, especially since Geordie seemed reluctant to remove his VISOR in the presence of his friends, including Data, for reasons the android could not fathom. Of course, Data would have to retrieve Geordie’s hyposprays from his quarters if the meal as to commence immediately after Geordie’s work planetside was complete, and if he would not take off the VISOR, perhaps some of his preferred scented oils would alleviate some of the tension headaches he preferred not to discuss, again, even with Data, once more for reasons unbeknown to Data.

The repairs were running smoothly enough for Data to feel secure in leaving them to run unattended while he carried out some basic structural repairs in the Jefferies Tubes, when the captain’s voice came barking out of his comm badge.

“Commander Data to the bridge, immediately.”

“Acknowledged, captain. I am on my way.”

As he made his way briskly down the corridor to the turbolift that would take him to the bridge, Data ran a list of the most statistically likely scenarios that would require his presence on the bridge. It would, of course, depend hugely on wether the captain required him at the navigation console or the science console, but based on the fact they were not due to leave orbit for another few days, Data concluded the scenarios requiring he be monitoring the various scans and probes while making various calculations (most probably pertaining to time restrictions enforced by a radioactive leak or electromagnetic flux of some sort) were most probable.

What he was not expecting, was to be completely blindsided by the tense order from Captain Picard, delivered without the man turning away from the view screen.

“Mr.Data, I need you to send a probe to scan for any signs of life on the outpost.”

It took Data a few seconds to process the order as his neural processors struggled with the implications of it.

He terminated the program which formulated various potential outcomes of his actions on the bridge, along with the one that had kicked in long before his motor functions had responded to the captain’s order, the one that was calculating the likelihood of Geordie’s survival.

While launching the probes, Data took a careful look at the sensor logs which detailed what had befallen the away team.

The details of the collapse of the cavernous system that made up the outpost.

The cave-in which had trapped Geordie and hidden him from the ships sensors, hidden his vital sign from the crew.

The earthquake that had made it impossible for Data to ascertain whether or not his best friend was alive.

It did not occur to Data until the away team was beamed back to the enterprise unscathed that he hadn’t spared a thought for Riker or Barclay, both men he would have considered to be his friends also. An intriguing matter, one Data wanted to look into before bringing it up with Geordie.

ii) when he acted without thinking (more than once)

Data had extensive experience in the science field, so when the majority of the science department were beamed planetside by a species of unknown intentions, it only made sense that Data be assigned to the ecological research team that were to beam down and learn all they could about the planet while a smaller away team attempted to retrieve the science department. Data could not see why Geordie insisted on beaming down, as he had neither experience with ecological research nor extensive search and rescue training, but Geordie insisted nonetheless.

Data’s memory banks suddenly assaulted him with images of Geordie in sick bay, in various states of physical and mental stability after away missions gone wrong while Data had been unable to assist him. Before he could stop himself, he found himself making a proposal for Geordie to join the research team, highlighting the importance of having someone well versed in physics while exploring the surface of the planet so that variables such as atmospheric pressure and wind patterns may be accounted for as much as possible while making notes on the planet’s ecology.

His lengthy explanation was cut off by the familiar pressure and warmth of Geordie’s hand patting his shoulder before settling just at the junction between his shoulder and neck, the warmth from the palm of his hand seeping into his circuitry and spreading a pleasant sensation throughout his body. “I’ll join your team, Data, no need to try and convince me.” His friend’s smile jolted another wave of warmth round his circuits, and while Geordie listened to Commander Riker’s plan for the retrieval of the scientists, Data ran another diagnostic on his thermal regulators, and one on his memory recall systems, only for them to show no signs of malfunction. “Hey, where are you, Data?” Geordie’s voice snapped him out of his reverie, wherein he had just begun to compare his responses to stimuli provided by Geordie to stimuli from his other friends, theorising perhaps it was the nature of his relationship with the chief engineer that was the cause of these flushes.

“I am in the briefing room, along with the rest of the crew who are due to be transported planetside.” Was his response to Geordie’s inquiry, but his friend’s bemused smile and good-natured laugh told Data the question had not been literal long before Geordie mentioned it being another one of those ‘figures of speech’ Data just couldn’t seem to get the hang of. He made a mental note to ask Geordie to assist him in further research into the use of such colloquialisms.

Geordie had removed his hand while they made their way to the transporters, resulting in a chill running through his sensory systems. Data filed the sensation away to run in comparison to his responses to similar withdrawals of stimuli from his other friends. 

O’Brien engaged in some tense small talk with the two away teams, reminding them they would need their tricorders operating at full capacity in order to boost their signals in the event of an abduction similar to the science crew’s. 

Data acknowledged O’Brien’s cautions with a fractional incline of his head, fiddling with a tricorder he, oddly, couldn’t remember picking up.

“Hey, Data, I know how to calibrate my own tricorder.” Geordie did not look angry; if Data had to guess, he would’ve said the look on Geordie’s face was amusement. Data blinked once, then looked down at his own tricorder, hanging from his hip. Looking back at the tricorder in his hands, he began to run yet another diagnostic on his memory banks.

“My apologies, Geordie.” He handed back the tricorder, a slight frown tugging at his mouth. “I...” He paused for a moment, paying particularly close attention to the result of his internal scan. All clear. “I did not think before acting.”

Geordie shook his head, but his smile never faltered. “That’s not like you, Data.” He clapped his friend’s upper arm briefly before hopping onto the transporter pad. “Thanks anyway.” His smile widened before he nodded at O’Brien and was beamed down.

Data decided he would have Geordie take an objective look at his circuitry later that evening.

iii) when he risked violating the prime directive

It had been two hours since the entrance to the cave had collapsed, trapping Geordie inside, alone. He had lost all communications with the rest of the away team, the Enterprise’s scanners were unable to penetrate the strange, rock-like substance the surface of the planet seemed to be covered in. 

Data and the rest of the small away team had been in disguise as the native species while they attempted to take some samples of the very rock that had condemned Geordie to his confinement. Data had attempted to convey the situation to the nearest village, but was unsuccessful, considering they had not yet developed an effective means of communication, making it impossible for Data to secure their assistance.

He had initially disregarded the option of using his phaser to burn a hole in through the dirt surrounding the cave-in to prevent further danger to Geordie as it would risk violating the prime directive. He had established almost immediately prior to his first encounter with Geordie that under no circumstances could he die while Data had the capability to prevent that outcome. Data’s neural pathways lit up with a continuous, almost painful feedback loop as he was confronted with this paradox.

The prime directive must not be violated. To rescue Geordie, one must violate the prime directive. Geordie must be saved.

He had not noticed Riker taking his phaser from his hand, he had not noticed him giving an order for transport, he had not yet worked his way through the paradox.

He could just about make out the transporter room fizzling into his view before the pain pulsed through his entire body before he shut down, unable to solve the problem.

....

When he was reactivated, Data felt the familiar warm sensation throughout his entire mainframe a few milliseconds before he registered Geordie’s hands frantically darting around his head, where he could tell his access terminals were wide open and under intense scrutiny by his friend. “I seem to have returned to an operable state, Geordie. How long were was it before the Enterprise could retrieve you?”

“Data!” Geordie’s exclamation of his name should have left Data confused as to why his friend had not answered his question, but instead, the relief he could hear in Geordie’s voice was... almost comforting. The thought puzzled Data. How could he be comforted if he had experienced no upset?

Mirroring Geordie’s hand on his shoulder, Data accidentally applied more pressure than anticipated on the engineer’s shoulder, and before he knew it, the android found himself completely engulfed by Geordie, his system flushed almost scalding hot, and his arms moved up to press Geordie closer, closer, until his friend started to mutter something about not being able to breathe properly. Data attempted to relinquish his hold on Geordie entirely, but Geordie kept his arms firmly around him as he sighed, “We thought we’d lost you, Data.”

“And I thought I had lost you, Geordie.” Data frowned. He had, once again, acted without thought. He had meant the words, but he had not processed them before delivering them. “Geordie, I have been experiencing-“

When Geordie drew back from their embrace, frowning and reaching for his scanner, a constant stream of questions for Data regarding his recent malfunctions, Data felt... bereft. Cold. The lack of contact with Geordie had returned his systems to their usual, less comforting temperature, and the worry in Geordie’s posture and words had chilled Data. It made sense, therefore, to initiate further contact with the human.

Data wrapped his arms around Geordie, clutching his hands together just below his diaphragm, and rested his chin on his shoulder, watching closely as the engineer’s hands fumbled with the familiar scanner before coming to a halt. “Data?” Geordie sounded even more tense, which did not make sense. The lack of physical contact between Data and Geordie had seemed to distress them both, particularly in this encounter, and Data had thought that by initiating a more intimate contact would result in a positive reaction from both of them.

He decided to make one suggestion before he withdrew completely, worried if he removed contact with Geordie without warning it might upset the human further. “Geordie, would you consent to being kissed by me?”

When his question was met by silence, Data moved to extract himself from Geordie’s quarters, but the well-known sense of warmth flooded him as Geordie grabbed him by the crook of his elbow and applied pressure intended to turn Data around to face him. He complied.

When Geordie’s lips connected with his, the sensations were something similar yet different to that provided by the other forms of contact they had experienced together.

And unlike his recent Geordie-related-malfunctions, Data found himself perfectly within his faculties, able to position his hands with purpose- one at the base of the back of Geordie’s neck in order to hold him close, and one runnng up and down his arm, which seemed to cause Geordie to relax into him. The warm sensations from Geordie’s much more mobile hands complimented the fizzing sensation caused from the new calculations Data had begun: formulating the ideal combined angles of their heads, how much force to use when backing Geordie against the wall in order to better maximise their contact...

Geordie was just glad he had brought Data back to his quarters for repairs instead of Engineering.