"Lal?" Father's voice echoed from the door. Lal rose from his desk and went to greet him.

"Hello Father, I trust your supervision of the main deck went well?" Lal had learned in the weeks since her recovery that it was considered good manners to ask after the feelings and events in a person's life when greeting them. Since Data had no emotions, Lal always asked about his duties.

"My shift went untroubled." Data replied, watching his daughter carefully as he strolled into their quarters, holding a small, rectangular package in his right hand. He held it up. "I have a gift for you."

"Oh?" Lal was surprised. Other than her life, her father had not ever given her any gifts. It was a most unconventional gesture for him.

"Yes," he said handing the package to her. "On the advice of Counselor Troi, I have purchased a primitive logging device known as a journal. Since you somehow are capable of emotions, Counselor Troi thought recording your thoughts, experiences and feelings might be helpful to you for your passage into sentience."

"I see." Lal tore the paper off and found inside a small blue book with her name written on it in gold letters. Two blue satin ribbons were tied to the ends of it. It was a surprisingly ornamented book considering the giver.

"Father, what is the purpose of these decorations?"

"The design was suggested by Ensign Gomez. I understand the ribbons were once meant for some sort of security."

"Why would a journal need security?"

"So that others would not read it. Though I doubt somebody truly determined to read whatever is written in there would be stopped by two pieces of fabric. Still, it was Ensign Gomez's opinion that you might find it attractive."

"Is a journal a private thing?" Lal flipped through the blank pages curiously.

"In most cases, I believe it is. Anne Frank was often irritated when other tenants of the attic she was hiding in would try to read what she was writing over her shoulder. Queen Victoria of England had her daughter destroy several pages of her journal prior to its publication. Counselor Troi thought you might like to have some sort of privacy in your development. I will not read anything your record in there unless it is your wish that I do. Are you pleased with it?"

"Yes, I am, though my handwriting is still less elegant than I would like it to be, I suppose this will help me improve." Lal replied thoughtfully. "How often should I write in this journal, Father?"

"As often as you wish, Though I understand that many have used their journal almost daily."

"And where shall I keep it?" Lal asked.

"I had not thought of that."

Data took a few moment to think. Lal had almost no private personal possessions of her own. Her clothes were kept in the closet along with his, and she had almost nothing else of her own. As a result, she had never had any sort of storage space in which to put anything. He would need to provide someplace for her.

"There is a drawer in my desk, the bottom one on the right, that I have no use for. Keep it in there."

"Very well." Lal went back to the office and put the journal away. When she came back to the living room, she found her father sitting on the couch, petting Spot.

"Father, are you glad Admiral Haftel decided not to take me with him to Galor IV?"

Data's head perked up curiously. "You know, Lal, that I am not capable of feeling 'glad' as you put it. But I did approve most strongly when he realized that separating the two of us would have dire consequences."

"Then I suppose it was a good thing that I was nearly destroyed."

"I suppose in practical terms that is true, though I had no desire to see you damaged. I wonder, Lal, if you have any ulterior motive for these questions. Is there something else that you want to know."

Lal looked her father in the eyes. "I know you can not love me, Father, but I would like to know if you have any sort of attachment to me, if I have been a positive influence on your life."

"Of course you have Lal. Your existence has greatly enriched my life. I have learned many things from you and have improved upon myself greatly. I could not afford to have you pass into oblivion."

Lal walked over to her father and did something she had never done before: she kissed him on the cheek. Data looked even more surprised at this.

"Lal, why did you do that?"

"I saw Dr. Crusher do that to Wesley today. Guinan said close family sometimes kiss each other as a gesture of affection. I wished to convey affection towards you in return for the journal."

"I see." Data looked disoriented for a second, then nodded. "Thank you, Lal."

"Thank you, Father." Lal went back to the office and retrieved the journal from the drawer. She found herself a pen and stared at the first empty page for several seconds before she began to write.

~-------------------------------------------------------------------------------~

Lal's Journal Stardate 43687.1

Father gave me this to record my thoughts, feelings and experiences in. This will be difficult as keeping a log of any sort only allows me to record my thoughts in a linear, singular manner when my mind is almost always considering several things at once at a speed beyond my capabilities to record. I have noticed, however, that I seem to have one line of focus that seems to have a greater presence than my other lines of thinking. I have decided to record my thoughts on that plane almost exclusively.

Father gave me this journal because unlike him, I can feel emotions despite the fact that I am built from transfers of the components of his own positronic brain. No one has yet been able to figure out why I can feel emotions. I first realized I could a few weeks ago when Admiral Haftel from Starfleet came determined to separate my father and I to study me. The idea of no longer having the guidance and company of my Father triggered my first and extremely intense emotion: fear. It was so intense that my systems overloaded and I nearly died of cascade failure. Father managed to repair me just in time and it was then that I felt my second and even more intense emotion: love. Realizing how important my Father was to my well being, Admiral Haftel changed his mind and I felt my third ever emotion: joy.

I have an extremely limited understanding of human customs, nature, and behavior and, like my father, I strive to become as human as possible. I will probably never achieve full humanity, but I believe I will come much closer to it than Father will since I have emotions. This does not discourage Father, as he says it is the effort, not the goal, that gives its own rewards. My father is wise.

Part of my quest in becoming more human involves a day job serving drinks at Ten Forward, the social center of the ship on which I live. It is run by Guinan, a very old and wise humanoid who is well practiced in "the art of listening." She is helping me to adapt socially. I learn new things about human interaction every day.

I also have help from many of my father's friends aboard the ship, such as Counselor Deanna Troi, Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge (who Father says is his "best friend"), and Acting Ensign Wesley Crusher. I find that after Father, I relate to Wesley more than I do anyone else. Despite his impressive intellect, he is often still looked upon as a child by most of the crew, though he is a trusted navigator on the bridge and a competent crew member. He and I are both seen as children despite our superior intellects, though mine is far greater than his, I am also seen as more of a child. It is true that I am much younger than Wesley, but my own father is chronologically not much older than Wesley and is Second Officer, so chronological age for Androids must be held in a different regard than the age for humans. It is true, though, that socially and emotionally I am still very much a child and Wesley is more mature in these areas. Indeed, I believe Wesley views me as a child as well. He is also the product of single-parentage, as his father died when he was quite young. I, of course, was not created biologically and therefore only ever had one parent, my father. We are also both raised within Starfleet and have Star Fleet officers for parents. My Father is a Lieutenant Commander and Second officer, and Wesley's mother, Dr. Crusher, is a Commander and Chief Medical Officer of the Enterprise.

Wesley, a student of cybernetics and engineering as well as an Ensign, takes a great interest in my development and has often been counseled by my father in regards to me. While others have taken an interest in me, Wesley has been the closest thing to a companion I have had besides Father.

Geordi, or Commander La Forge as he is addressed by most of the crew, has done the most hands-on work after father when it comes to my construction. I do not interact with him much, however, and view him as more of a friend to Father than to me.

If I could be anybody on the ship, it would be Troi. Troi is empathic and as ship's counselor understands human interaction on a very deep level. She also was raised by two parents who loved her. In addition to this, I consider Counselor Troi to be beautiful. Before I decided on my appearance and gender, I wanted hers, but Father said that would be confusing. Still, my admiration for her appearance is undiminished. I have also noticed that many on the ship bear her great affection, even love.

If I were to have anything, I would like to have someone feel the same way about me that I do about Father. I would very much like to be loved by somebody. I fear that the affection some of the crew display for me is for my Father's benefit alone. I wish, more than anything, that it was my Father who loved me. Not only because I love him, but also because having a parent who loves you is a large part of the human experience, and is that not what I am supposed to be striving for?

I kissed Father just now, and while I have seen family members react to such gestures with pleasure, his reaction was not very different from Commander Riker's when I kissed him: shocked, taken aback, and unwelcome. I wish he could appreciate me in the way I appreciate him.

I write slowly, and as a result I have taken several hours to write this journal entry. It is nearly time to report to Ten Forward to wash dishes and help Guinan prepare for the day. I will end this entry now.