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He didn’t notice at first, he was that happy.The Hanahaki disease had a certain image, the swooning tragic hero - heart shaped rose petals dripping from their lips. People found a beauty in it. They had to.Geordi was nothing like that. Geordi had his dream job, a busy schedule, and a wonderful boyfriend. He and Data had fallen into a relationship almost by accident, pleasantly surprised to realise the time they spent with each other had naturally progressed in that direction. It had been a wonderful few months.His throat tickled. Dust, of course. What else? He’d have to talk to Ops about the systems keeping his engineering station clean. He mentally tucked away a joke about his station being so unused it collected dust – clearly he’d have to spend more time on the bridge. Brushing down the screen with his sleeve, he turned around to wait instruction, but zoned in on the splash of yellow light that marked Data’s seat at the helm. He’d like to spend more time on the bridge.Almost as if by cue, Data swung his chair around the very next moment. Geordi flashed him a grin across the bridge. Data smiled back, and the tickle crept up like a blush. He turned his head to cough into an elbow, hacking over Picard’s attempt to start a statement. Whoops. Geordi straightened up to Picard’s chide, but caught Riker smirking out the corner of his peripheral vision. As Picard launched back into his mission statement, Geordi’s attention wandered back to his favourite glow. Data’s posture was perfect, statue still and angled just-so to display his full attention to the captain’s words. It could look almost as if he was fully enraptured in Picard’s mock speech, but Geordi knew Data could be running thousands of subprograms more complex than he could ever consider with his full attention. For all they knew, Data could be completely muffling Picard out and running the mission out from beneath him. Geordi muffled a laugh, then another cough. He could feel Riker’s amused eyes on him. Now that wouldn’t do, interrupting Picard’s moment again.He kept looking at Data until Picard launched them into action. His throat continued to itch.The pollen on his sleeve fell away, unnoticed. He met Data in Ten Forward for lunch. It had become their little schedule, an allotment of specific time together now they spent less and less on duty time in each other’s company.Nothing had hugely changed. They still had their own quarters – Data’s was stuffed full of his art, and Geordi was glad for the space away from Spot. Data had gotten rid of the bed in his room. More space for his creations, and he didn't sleep enough to warrant it anyway. But, then, Geordi found more than enough excuses to get Data into his own.Geordi chatted lightly with the server as he picked his food, while Data fiddled with some project he’d set up on the table. Each date, they had been slowly working their way through a list of drinks Guinan had recommended, always ordering one for each of them, even if Data sometimes struggled to form an opinion. Geordi found it heart achingly endearing, Data trying to offer insight other than -“The sugar content is… Really quite shocking. Are you sure this is healthy?”Geordi dropped his glass to the table before he spluttered it over the both of them. At first a bubbling laugh, it had turned suddenly into a choke. His throat stuck, Geordi was quickly almost doubled up over. He could hear Data’s concern but was more concerned on gasping for a lung of air to help him cough out the block. When he could finally breathe steadily again, Data was on his side of the table, hand a comforting pressure on his lower back.“Are you okay?”Geordi considered. He could still feel a heavy weight in his chest, and he reached for his drink. Data had been right, it was decidedly sweet. Another few spluttering coughs burst out, and Geordi pushed the drink away. Data was always right – not the healthiest option.“Maybe some water?”His raw voice scratched slightly, doing nothing to alleviate the worry on Data’s face.“I shall go fetch some. Stay here,” he said firmly, leaving Geordi to go towards the bar.The sweetness in his mouth lingered from the sip of the drink he’d managed, almost overpowering a new bitter taste at the back of his throat. But not quite. Still breathing gingerly through his mouth, Geordi mulled it over. It reminded him of something, just out of the reach of his memory. It was only when Data returned with a slim glass of cold water for him to nurse that he thought of it. It was like perfume, when he breathed too hard while the particles still lingered in the air. Something that should be so sweet, turned horrid.Then Data was back on the other side of the table, holding his hand and asking soft questions, and it was pushed from Geordi’s mind. He smiled across at his boyfriend and swallowed down his bitter coughs. He had to notice eventually, of course.It was nothing like the depictions. Flowers were soft, delicate. A cough was not a delicate process.Left in Geordi’s hand was a bruised mess, yellow petals curled pathetically over a crushed orange bell. He had reluctantly ducked out of a rare bridge shift after another coughing fit, but when he felt the flower in his mouth he had rushed to his room. He sat in shock on his bed, staring down at the offending plant, trying to parse what it meant. Well, he knew what it meant. What he couldn’t understand was how.“Computer?” he waited for the words to come to his mind. He needed not to panic and keep a clear head. “Do people with the Hanahaki disease know who it’s for?”“Please specify query.”Geordi attempted a calming breath. It came out more like a shaky sigh. Unnoticed, his hands had balled into fists, crushing what was left of the daffodil in his palms.“Are there any recorded reports of the Hanahaki disease where the sufferer did not know why they had developed it?” he tried, beginning a pace as the computer started through the database. Geordi didn’t have access to the medical database, but Hanahaki was sensationalised enough that there was copious coverage on an otherwise rare disease.“Completed scan. No results found.”Geordi wanted to yell at the sweet automated voice of the computer, but it continued, breaking his pace up and down his room.“The Hanahaki disease is triggered in response to object of the subject’s affection. As such, there have been no cases with an unknown or non-existent object of affection.”“Right, that’s right.” Geordi knew the computer wasn’t listening and couldn’t take part in his theories, but old habits died hard. He threw himself back down on the bed, bouncing on the soft mattress. Remembering the unfortunate petals, now a squashed mess in his hands, he threw the glob away from him towards his desk.What had he been doing when he choked up that flower? He’d been coughing on and off all week – but this whole flower was still a surprise to him. He turned back his mind to that short while ago on the bridge. He’d been at his station, calibrating some satellite nacelles, when –Data.It had been Data, brushing his shoulder gently as he walked by. It was such a charming move, going out of his way to show an unnecessary physical sign of affection. A small action, but so thoughtful – Data knew Geordi liked those small moments, so he did them for him. The soft feeling in Geordi’s chest welled for a moment, then burst into another fit. Caught off guard by the whiplash of the change from one feeling to the other extreme, Geordi lurched for his replicator, spitting more small petals from his tongue. Water. He spilt half of it over his face and the other on his uniform but managed to clear his mouth of the horridness. Breathing again, he started blurrily at the scatter of petals on the floor. Everything overwhelming, he plucked the VISOR from his face, throwing it to the side to land on the other end of the bed. Laying back into the springs and wishing the blankets would swallow him up, Geordi took a deep breath and called out to the computer again.“Computer? Define the Hanahaki Disease.”"The Hanahaki Disease is an affliction in which the subject coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when th-”“Alright, that’s enough.”One-sided love. Geordi rubbed his eyes, blinking blindly at the ceiling. One-sided love.
Data.