OK, here it is: the conclusion of this story! I didn't initially intend for it to be so long, but it just kept growing! And, so, like with the river, I just went where the story took me. LOL! I hope you enjoy this last part! :)

Part Four

Following the incident with the VISOR and the rapids, Data had returned to the river briefly to wash the worst of the mud from his face and uniform. To Geordi's amusement, the android had even used a bristly spruce twig to neatly brush his wet hair back into place. They'd sat on the rock for a while, chatting with Chief O'Brien while he fished until the two of them had dried off enough for the gravely sand to no longer stick to their hands and clothes. Then, they'd left the chief to spend the rest of the waning afternoon clearing a suitable campsite, collecting wood and stones, and building the cooking fire while Worf prowled the cliffs for game.

"We must stack the wood in such a way to promote even oxygen flow," Data said as the pair worked to construct a makeshift fire pit out of smooth river rocks and rougher, reddish stones they'd found closer to the canyon walls. "It is more important for a cooking fire to retain heat than give off large flames."

"Hey, Data, how did you get so good at this," Geordi asked, pausing a moment to wipe his brow. "Scouting out the most sheltered location for the campsite, foraging around for the right kind of wood and tinder, fixing up this fire pit… I thought you said you'd never been camping before."

"I have not," Data said. "I did extensive research on the subject of camping and camping traditions after your invitation but, regarding most of the activities you mentioned, I have primarily been drawing on information I learned during an emergency survival course I once elected to take at the academy."

Geordi frowned.

"But, surely, you wouldn't need a survival course. You don't need food or shelter, or even air to function." He shot an uncomfortable glance at the river. "Isn't that right?"

Data tilted his head in acknowledgement.

"That is true," he said. "My specifications indicate I could remain operational for extended periods in a vacuum – perhaps for years. But I knew any companions I would have on a potential away mission would require those things. And, although my power cells are self-charging, I am occasionally obliged to ingest nutrients to replenish the organic components of my nutritive fluids, and to keep my systems running at optimal levels."

"So, you do need to eat," Geordi said.

"Not as such," Data said. "If necessary, I can operate without my nutritive fluids or, in fact, any of my organic components. Just not at peak efficiency."

"And what does that mean?"

"I am not entirely certain," Data said, seeming mildly uncomfortable. "I have never attempted to operate in that way. But, without those fluids supplying energy, and other requirements, to my systems, power would have to be rerouted from my primary power cells to compensate. The resulting drain would oblige me to periodically pause whatever work I was doing and wait for my power cells to regenerate before continuing."

"So, in other words, if you don't eat now and then, you'd get tired and need to rest," Geordi said, and smiled. "Is that it?"

Data averted his gaze slightly.

"I would not word it quite that way."

"Why not?" Geordi said. "You know, Data, the more I learn about you, the more it seems to me your creators, whoever they were, really were doing their best to mimic every aspect of the human form. I mean, you have pretty much everything we do, from functioning digestive and respiratory systems to unique fingerprints and hair that actually grows… Do you ever wonder why?"

Data's golden eyes took on a distant, slightly bleak look.

"Yes, Geordi. I do. But, as it is likely we will never know, perhaps it would be best to turn our attention to building the cooking fire."

Geordi regarded him for a moment, then nodded, accepting the change of subject.

"Yeah, OK, Data. Which of these piles of wood is for the fire again?"

"The Prosopis glandulosa," Data told him, and pointed. "Commonly known as honey mesquite. That is the wood for the cooking fire."

"And this other pile, with the leaves?"

"Those are Juglands major branches, also known as the Arizona Walnut. I thought the leaves could be useful to wrap the meat and fish for our supper, and the wood could be used to keep the fire burning through the night."

"I like the way you think, my friend," Geordi said, and clapped a hand on the android's shoulder, using it to push himself to his feet. "I'll lug the wood, you do the breaking and stacking."

Buzzing cicadas had given way to chirping crickets before Worf returned with his quarry: four plump wild rabbits, expertly cleaned and prepared and already threaded on a long, straight stick, ready for the fire.

"Hey, that's great, Worf," Geordi said, looking relieved. "I was a little worried you'd bring them back with, you know… The heads and fur and everything…"

"So human," Worf grunted as he jammed two Y-shaped sticks into the dirt on either side of the fire pit. "I do not understand this ridiculous human aversion to acknowledging that the animal you are eating is an animal. I suppose you will insist the Chief remove the heads from your fish as well."

"Well, yeah," Geordi said, fighting to restrain a shudder. "I mean, who wants their dinner looking back at them from the plate?"

Worf grunted again, and balanced the meat-laden stick on his make-shift spit. Satisfied it was stable, he removed the stick and brought it to the sun-bleached fallen tree trunk they'd been using as a table. He decided against telling the group what he had done with the animals' blood and innards. Klingon hunting rituals were clearly too much for human sensibilities to accept.

"All right lads, time to light the fire," O'Brien announced, heading over to the campsite lugging his bucket of fresh, cleaned fish. "Don't worry, Worf," he called in response to the look the Klingon shot at the bucket. "I saved the heads if you want 'em. I remember you saying they were the best part."

Geordi wrinkled his nose, but Worf bared his teeth in what the young navigator hoped was a grin.

"So, how do we want to do this," O'Brien asked, indicating the firewood and tinder Data had stacked in the fire pit. "Friction, flint and steel, emergency phaser?"

Data held up a finger.

"One moment."

As the group watched, Data sat beside the fire pit and rolled up his left trouser leg. Geordi gasped to see a long, weeping gash on the android's leg – a gash that seemed to be radiating heat.

"Oh my God, Data!" he said. "Why didn't you say you were injured? Did that happen when you jumped in the rapids?"

"Yes. But, please do not be concerned, Geordi. I assure you, it does not hurt," the android said.

"Still…" Geordi started, then frowned in confusion as Data pressed several specific pressure points just under his knee. There was a peculiar, mechanical noise, and Data's lower leg came away in his hand.

"Holy…!" Geordi gasped. "Data, what the hell?!"

Data pressed his thumbs against the gash, and a stream of river water poured out, along with some yellowish fluids. Geordi looked ill, but Worf and O'Brien watched in fascination as Data pulled and stretched the torn synthoskin until he'd revealed a sparking circuit near the back of his shin. He held his detached leg over the tinder until the sparks caught, then gently blew on the fluffy pile of pine needles and shredded bark until it burst into flame. He fed the infant fire a few twigs, then sticks, then sat back, a mild look of satisfaction on his face as their cooking fire began to burn and crackle.

"Neat trick," O'Brien said, and grinned.

Geordi shook his head, thoroughly nauseated.

"That was gross, Data!" he said. "Gross! What made you think of doing that?"

"Was it not…a 'manly feat'?" Data asked, his brief look of pride quickly morphing to anxiety.

"What, taking off your leg and using it to light the fire?!" Geordi exclaimed.

"Seems pretty manly to me," O'Brien said. "Especially when put like that. What do you think, Worf?"

"Very macho," the Klingon deadpanned, and walked back to his rabbits.

"Geordi?" Data asked.

The navigator threw up his hands, but he found he was smiling despite himself.

"Sure," he said. "Sure, Data. I'll admit, it was very tough and macho of you to light the fire with your injured leg. But, can you…" he gestured awkwardly to the leg in Data's hand. "Put it back…?"

"Does it bother you that I detached my lower leg?" Data asked.

"Yes!"

"But, why? There is no blood or muscle or bone. Merely a metal frame over which a synthetic mesh of—"

"It's your leg, Data!" Geordi spelled out. "It belongs under your knee, not in your hand!"

"Curious," Data said. "Would you feel this way if I did not wear a humanoid form? If, rather than a leg, I had removed a wheel, or a miniature antigrav unit?"

"Of course I would!" Geordi said, and meant it. "You're my friend, Data, and a conscious, thinking being! It doesn't matter if you look like a human or a shuttlecraft! I don't like to see you…in pieces."

"Hm!" Data said, his eyebrows raised. "Then, I shall enact the basic repair immediately."

"Need any help?" Geordi asked, intrigued by the technology despite his discomfort.

"Thank you, Geordi," Data said, "but all I need do is cut power to the defective circuit – thusly – and reattach the leg," which he did with smooth, efficient movements. In less than a minute, his leg was restored, and he stood.

"What about that gash?" Geordi asked. "It looks pretty nasty."

"Dr. Crusher can repair the torn synthoskin," Data assured him. "You need not worry about me, Geordi."

Geordi chuckled.

"It's my job to worry about you, Data," he said. "That's what friends do. Now, I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Let's go help the Chief and Worf get that food ready before I pass out!"

Both Worf and Chief O'Brien were familiar with native Earth flora, and both had collected a good amount of edible wild plants along with the trout and wild rabbit they'd caught for their supper. O'Brien stuffed the river trout with summer cilantro and dandelion leaves before wrapping them in Data's walnut leaves and placing them on the hot coals of the cooking fire. Worf pounded wild rocket mustard into a thick green paste and coated the meat before returning it to the spit over Data's hot, low-burning cooking fire. Data turned the spit while O'Brien washed the dirt off several handfuls of knobbly Jerusalem artichoke tubers, then shoved them into the coals with another stick.

"Oh, the smell of that mesquite!" Geordi moaned, unable to keep his mouth from watering. "I don't know how much longer I can stand the wait!"

"Maybe this will help," O'Brien said, returning to the river bank and pulling a waterproof bag out of the water.

"What's that?" Geordi asked.

"Our reward," O'Brien said, and grinned. "We all faced the river down like men, today. Now it's time to celebrate!"

He set the bag down between Worf and Geordi and opened it wide, to reveal cans and cans of—

"Beer!" Geordi exclaimed. "Oh, and it's cold! Chief, you're a life saver! What a brilliant idea, keeping it in the water like that!"

"Lieutenant, this is better than beer," O'Brien corrected. "This is Irish Guinness!"

Worf grunted, but caught the can O'Brien tossed him. He popped the top and took a long, long…long, long swig.

O'Brien and Geordi shared an amused look, wondering if he'd drain the whole can.

"Ahhh!" Worf sighed at last, crunching the can in one hand and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "Not bad," he said. "For an Earth beverage."

O'Brien and Geordi laughed, and tossed the Klingon another can of the Irish stout.

"Hey, Data, you want one?" Geordi asked.

"No, thank you," the android replied, his focus on his cooking.

"More for us!" O'Brien said with a grin. "Through the teeth and over the gums, look out gizzard here it comes!" he recited, and took a swallow from his own can. Geordi chuckled and followed suit.

"I believe the food is done," Data announced, removing the spit from the sweet-smelling fire and bringing it to the fallen, sun-bleached tree trunk they'd been using as a table.

"Yes!" Geordi crowed eagerly. "I am absolutely ravenous! Here, let me help!"

Geordi set his stout down on a rock, then hurried to collect the tubers from the fire. They had softened nicely, and gave off a sweet, nutty smell that made his stomach rumble. The navigator brought them to Data, who peeled them and pounded them lightly with some more rocket mustard and spring cilantro. Geordi watched happily as the android portioned the meat, fish, and vegetables out onto flat rocks Geordi had claimed for plates while they'd been building the fire pit, then scrubbed clean in the river with spruce bristles.

"Don't forget yourself, Data," the navigator said. "We're not going to eat unless you do too."

Data cocked his head. "Very well, Geordi," he said. Soon, four meticulously evenly distributed portions were on the plates, each rustically garnished with green summer cilantro and yellow mustard flowers. Geordi hurried to hand them out and the hungry men fell to, eating with their fingers and wiping the grease on patches of coarse grass, or on their sleeves.

When the food was gone, Worf swigged back the last of his Guinness and released a hearty, Klingon belch. Geordi laughed until he burped too. "Oh, excuse me," he said, and kept laughing, feeling full and a little silly after his second can of Guinness.

O'Brien reached deep within himself, and let loose with a low, rumbling belch to rival Worf's. The Klingon gave him an acknowledging nod.

Data regarded the men in utter bewilderment.

"Is this practice of expelling gas a camping tradition?" he asked. "If so, I am afraid I did not come across it in my research."

"Nah, that's nothin'," O'Brien said, and strode back to his waterproof bag. "Now, this is a camping tradition!"

He held up a smaller, silvery bag and brought it to the curious group. As they watched, he pulled out sachets containing graham crackers, marshmallows, and bars of milk chocolate.

"S'mores!" Geordi cheered. "First the Guinness, now this. Chief, you really did think of everything!"

"Grab a stick, everyone!" the chief said, and ripped open the sachets. "I've got plenty for all of us!"

Data finished stacking walnut branches over the embers of the cooking fire, arranging them in a loosely layered cone shape. Once he was satisfied with the height and brightness of the flames, he returned to the clear, flat space where the rest of the group had settled down to swap manly tales before going to sleep.

"And that is why I would require a Klingon mate," Worf was saying. "Most human women would not have the endurance. They are…too fragile."

"I'd say that goes for human men too, if Klingon females are anything like the males," O'Brien said wryly.

"If anything," Worf said, "the females are even more…voracious."

O'Brien winced theatrically and shared an amused look with Geordi.

"What about it, LaForge?" he asked. "Think you could handle a Klingon lover?"

Geordi shook his head, and smiled.

"Man, I'd be lucky if I could get a human woman to give me a second look," he said. "You know, since transferring to the Enterprise I've only managed to snag one date? Cute little Ensign from Stellar Cartography."

"What happened?" Data asked.

Geordi shrugged, suddenly looking a little sorry he'd brought it up.

"Oh, she spotted an old Academy friend while we were having dinner in Ten Forward. Went over – 'just to say hi' she said – and didn't come back."

"Ooh, harsh," O'Brien said sympathetically, and shook his head. Worf grunted and picked his teeth with a pine twig.

"Eh," Geordi said. "She wasn't my type anyway. Too flighty. What about you, Chief? Any luck with the ladies?"

"Well…"

Geordi's VISOR picked up a flush of heat rising in the Chief's face.

"Chief, are you blushing?" he teased.

"What? No, of course not!" O'Brien said defensively.

"The VISOR doesn't lie," Geordi said, tapping the device with his finger. "Come on, O'Brien, give. Who is she?"

"No one! There's no one," he protested. "Although…"

The chief sighed and let his shoulders sag.

"OK," he said. "There is someone. Sort of. A lovely Japanese flower I spied in the arboretum. Civilian. I think she works there. But, a woman like that wouldn't look at a big oaf like me," he hastened to add. "I doubt she even knows I exist."

"Did you not introduce yourself to her?" Data asked.

"What would be the point? She's way out of my league, and I know it."

Data wrinkled his brow.

"I do not understand," he said. "You cannot know if your attraction is reciprocated if you do not communicate your feelings."

"Oh, and I suppose you know all about it," O'Brien snapped, his defensiveness and embarrassment starting to spark into anger. "After all, you're an expert on everything else, why not on women too?"

Data blinked.

"I did not claim any expertise on the subject, or your specific case," he said mildly. "I merely observed that—"

"Look, enough, OK?" the chief said irritably. "The last thing I need is dating advice from an android. I'd bet real money you've never even been with a woman."

Now, it was Geordi's turn to get defensive.

"Come on, Chief, that's not fair," he started, but Data shook his head.

"Such a bet would be ill advised," he said.

Geordi had opened his mouth to say something, but at Data's softly spoken pronouncement the words faded and his jaw dropped. Slowly, a smile crept over his face.

"Really?" he said.

Data raised his eyebrows and nodded.

"Wait, you have a girl?" O'Brien said, and raised his eyes to the heavens. "That's all my ego needed to hear. Who is she? Is she on this ship?"

"A gentleman does not kiss and tell," Data said.

"Don't give us that," O'Brien pressed. "This is man talk. You've got to give us the details!"

"I cannot," Data insisted. "I gave my word."

At that, Worf sat straighter against the fallen tree trunk, a glint of suspicion in his eye. He turned a questioning look to Data, who dodged his gaze in a way he found strikingly familiar. Worf knew with sudden, smug certainty that if he were to bet real money on which tough, blonde bridge officer the android had learned that expression from, he'd win.

Smirking slightly to himself, the Klingon sat back and continued to pick his teeth.

"This gets better and better!" Geordi crowed, positively beaming. "Not only does Data have a sweetheart, he's involved in a secret affair!"

"You are making unwarranted extrapolations, Geordi," Data said, his expression turning slightly desperate. "Please accept that I cannot and will not discuss this matter further. However," he said, firmly cutting off O'Brien's protest, "I may be able to intervene on the Chief's behalf."

O'Brien frowned.

"What are you talking about?"

"From the description you provided, would I be correct in inferring that the woman you saw in the arboretum is civilian botanist Keiko Ishikawa?"

"Good grief, he really does know everything," O'Brien muttered. Louder, he said, "And if you were?"

"I know Ms. Ishikawa quite well," Data said. "In fact, just four days ago, I approved her initiative to set up a new bio lab that could be used both for scientific work and as a lab for the ship's school children. I have since been working closely with both her and her department head to ensure they are allotted the appropriate resources."

"How wonderful for you, sir," the chief grumbled, then almost choked on a sudden, terrible thought. "Oh God, you're not saying she's the woman—"

Data blinked rapidly. Worf smirked from the shadows.

"Not at all," the android was quick to assure the sputtering human. "It is just, if you are uncomfortable approaching Ms. Ishikawa yourself, I would be pleased to introduce you."

O'Brien shifted uncomfortably.

"Really? You'd…do that? For me?"

"Of course," Data said. "Unless you do not wish me to interfere."

"No! No, that would be great, sir. It's just…I can't believe this is real. I mean, what would I say to her?"

"'Hello' usually works," Geordi said, and smiled.

"Ha ha," O'Brien wrinkled his nose at the navigator. "Seriously, though, you haven't seen this woman. She's so…elegant, so delicate. Like her flowers. While I…" He frowned down at his large, square hands. "Why should she be interested in someone like me?"

Data cocked his head.

"Because you are a wild man untamed by coddling civilization?" he suggested.

Geordi laughed, and nudged the chief's arm.

"Yeah, that's right," he said. "How could she resist?"

"Hmm," Worf grunted his agreement, though his eyes remained on Data, as if he was starting to see something in the android he hadn't fully noticed before.

O'Brien nodded slowly, a hint of amusement creeping into his eyes.

"Yeah," he said, and straightened. "Yeah, you're right. What have I got to lose?"

"I am scheduled to meet with plant sciences tomorrow afternoon," Data said. "If you are free at 1500 hours, I could introduce you then."

"OK," O'Brien said, a strange, buzzing energy creeping up to fill his brain. "Yeah, that would be great. Thank you, sir." He smiled. "You're a good man."

"Damn right!" Geordi said, and grabbed the last of the marshmallows. "I say this calls for a toast. You guys still have those sticks from when we made the s'mores?"

The sticks were sticky with marshmallow residue and dirt, so Data snapped some new ones off the remaining walnut branches and the four men scooted closer to the fire.

"To Chief O'Brien," Geordi said, raising his impaled marshmallow high over the flames. "The mad ringleader of our crazy adventure!"

"O'Brien!" Worf and Data said, raising their impaled marshmallows to meet Geordi's.

O'Brien grinned and added his marshmallow to the group.

"To wild men," he said. "And the women who love 'em."

The men shared a wild roar and, for the first time in his experience, Data felt it entirely appropriate to join in. When the roaring ended, the men around him broke out laughing - not in mockery, but pride that he had joined in. As Data slapped hands with them, he became aware of a sense of what he could almost call wonder. This was something entirely new to him. For once, he was not acting to imitate, but because he knew he was a part of the group, of the firelight and the marshmallows, the kayaks and the river, and the shared experience of four friends camping out under the stars. And even though he was quite aware that their surroundings were no more than an elaborate technological illusion, Data himself had never felt more real.

~fin~

References include: Datalore, Brothers, Descent II, The Naked Now, Heart of Glory, Booby Trap, Transfigurations, The Measure of a Man (in which Riker removes Data's arm), The Icarus Factor, Hide and Q, Deja Q, Hero Worship, Peak Performance, Birthright I, Data's Day (in which Keiko chose Data to perform the role of Father of the Bride at her and Chief O'Brien's wedding because Data had introduced them), a few years of Girl Scouts, the movie First Contact and the novel Metamorphosis.

Thanks for reading, everyone, and for your fantastic reviews! I hope you enjoyed the ride! :)

~RZ