The Complication

The Little Things

"You planned this?" Data asked after he pulled away.

Tasha nodded slowly.

"For me?" Data pressed.

"Yes," Tasha replied, her voice full of uncertainty.

When he didn't react, Tasha decided to take the Targ by the horn.

"Was that alright?" Tasha asked.

Data did not respond. He cupped her face and ran his thumb across her cheek.

"I believe it is one of the kindest acts another being as ever done on my behalf," Data said.

Tasha beamed.

"C'mon," she said as she pulled him along toward the postal office.

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A small bell rang as they stepped through the door. There was a large wooden counter. Behind the counter there was a wooden mail sorter that lined the wall.

The interior was lit only by the natural light that streamed in through the window. Data spied an oil lamp on the desk.

"This is an ineffective method of lighting," Data said as he pondered why the lamp would not be in use.

"Why waste the fuel during the daylight?" Tasha asked in response.

"Exactly," a man said as he stepped out from a back room.

He was a short, stout man dressed in straight trousers and a simple waistcoat. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, indicating that he worked with his hands.

"Oswalt," he said as he shook Tasha's hand. "I run the parish post and Nettlewood Farm which means you must be my weekender."

"Weekenders," Tasha corrected, emphasising the plural as she pointed between Data and herself. "Like I mentioned in the booking, there are two of us."

She'd seen the looks Data had gotten on their way into town. Tasha wanted to shut down any prejudice before it could get started.

"Of course," Oswalt replied. "You two are a little more of the erm – unusual - variety."

Tasha stiffened.

"I just meant being Starfleet officers," Oswalt added quickly. "Sorry, most of our visitors are researchers or historical aficionados."

Oswalt provided them with a map of the area and directions to the cottage. He explained the hours of operation for the village services, walked them through some of the local attractions, and offered to provide them with training on how to use the equipment.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Tasha assured him.

Oswalt eyed them carefully, not quite buying her confidence.

Tasha swapped a significant amount of Federation credits for an equivalent amount of pounds sterling.

Data frowned as he watched the exchange.

"Tasha-" he opened his mouth to protest.

Tasha silenced him with a look.

"I don't know if you want to spend time in town first or head straight to the farm," Oswalt began before offering a warning. "But as a reminder, we don't allow anything modern – including your uniforms. Period appropriate attire is a requirement in the village."

"Not to worry, we packed for it," Tasha promised.

Data's audio receptors perked up at this notion.

Tasha apologised to Oswalt. She implied it wasn't possible for them to change out of uniform prior to their arrival. Data knew there was no regulation that would have prohibited this. However, he reasoned it was part of her effort to keep the nature of their destination a surprise.