A/N: There are some times I like to write more thoughtful, introspective and/or angsty stories, but with seven characters to juggle in one scene, this isn't one of those. It's just for fun. Many thanks to digitalfletch for the very helpful beta reading—the story was much improved by her suggestions. (Of course, if you don't like it, the fault is all mine!)

This follows on my AGT story, "The Beginning of Good Things." It's not absolutely necessary to have read that one first, but it was short and sweet, so why not? Enjoy!

It was Tuesday night on the starship Enterprise, and in the absence of any subspace or gravimetric anomalies to be analyzed, interstellar crises to be managed, or diplomatic obligations to be met, the weekly senior staff poker game was in full swing.

Expectant silence filled the first officer's quarters as six pairs of eyes watched the dealer. Having carefully checked his hole cards again—a harmless affectation, as there was no question that he knew what they were—Lieutenant Commander Data raised pale yellow eyes to regard the two senior officers to his left. "I fold," he decided after a moment. "Commander?"

A slight frown creasing his forehead, William Riker narrowed his eyes at the impenetrable expression on the captain's face. While his own cards weren't bad this time around, he'd lost the last hand to a flush, ace high, and he couldn't be certain what the older man had now—damned if his poker face wasn't at least the equal of Riker's, if not better. Must have been all those years of staring down alien diplomats. Or Starfleet admirals. Either way, Riker wasn't getting a read on him at all, and it would cost a lot to find out... "All right, fine," he said finally, turning his cards down in disgust. "Take it."

For his part, Jean-Luc Picard wasn't having nearly the same difficulty reading his first officer. Thanks to the recent counsel of a certain redheaded doctor, he'd been able to predict Riker's course of action pretty well—in this hand, and the prior ones of the evening. He allowed the barest hint of a smile to cross his lips. "Very generous of you, Number One," he said genially, pulling the chips from the pot toward the increasingly large pile in front of him. "Thank you."

On his left, Deanna Troi took a sip of wine and tilted her head in curiosity, dark hair falling over her shoulders. "Come on, Captain. What did you have?" she asked.

In answer, Picard obligingly turned over his cards, to the collective groans of the entire group.

"Unbelievable," Riker said in dismay. "A pair of sixes? I should've called."

"Admit it, he's got your number tonight, Commander," said Geordi La Forge, pushing back from the table with a grin.

"Or maybe you're losing your edge, Will," the counselor teased, earning her a long-suffering et tu? look in response.

Worf slid his cards to the center of the table with a skeptical grunt. "The captain is doing much better than last week," he muttered to no one in particular.

"I agree," Data said. "Your performance is much improved, sir."

"Why, thank you, Mr. Data. Perhaps the cards are just favoring me tonight." Picard smiled graciously as he glanced around the group. He was clearly enjoying himself, while his first officer's ego was taking an unexpected—though some here would say justly deserved—beating.

Across from the captain, Dr. Beverly Crusher casually avoided his eyes, doing an excellent job of concealing the smirk that wanted to escape. She never could miss a chance to pull something over on Will, and with the combination of her hard-won knowledge of all his tells and Jean-Luc's estimable skills, this evening was proving to be even more enjoyable than she'd hoped. She just wasn't sure how long they'd get away with it...

"No, that can't explain all of it. Something's up," La Forge said thoughtfully. "Otherwise, no way you could've bluffed the commander with that hand. Now granted, we haven't played much with you yet, sir, but I think something happened."

Picard raised a neutral eyebrow, collecting the remaining cards from Troi and handing them over to Riker. "Oh? Your deal, Number One."

"Geordi, are you suggesting the captain is cheating?" Data asked in concern, as the first officer expertly shuffled the deck and began to deal the next hand.

The engineer held up his hands. "Oh no, I know better than that."

"I don't," Deanna chimed in, directing a pointed gaze at Picard. "So what is it, Captain?"

"Why don't we ask the good doctor?" asked Geordi, turning to his left with an eyebrow arched over his VISOR. "She's not saying much, and she's doing pretty well tonight, too. How about it, Doc?"

As attention accordingly shifted away from the captain and towards her, Crusher gave an enigmatic smile, taking a sip from her own wine glass and then checking her initial cards surreptitiously. "Ante's five, right?" she replied, sorting her small pile of chips and tossing one to the center of the table.

"Oh, now I know something's up," said Deanna, adding her own chip to the pot.

Riker, intrigued now, finished dealing the last cards and leaned forward to study the slender redhead with appraising blue eyes. Her innocuous expression gave him nothing obvious to go on, but judging by the knowing smirk that crept to his lips, it appeared to be enough for him anyway. He did know her pretty well, after all. "Hmm. If I'm reading the situation correctly, it looks like something happened with you and the captain after the game last Tuesday night. Maybe some coaching? So what was it?"

Beverly rolled her eyes. "I'm certain I have no idea what you mean," she demurred. "Worf? Are you in?"

"Yes," said the Klingon, a suspicious gleam lighting his dark eyes. "But I, too, would like an answer to the question."

"Well, Beverly?" prompted Riker.

She wasn't the empath at the table, but she could swear she felt the amusement at her sudden predicament emanating from behind the captain's impassive expression. Well, she was up for continuing the game if he was. She stared at Riker with perfect neutrality. "All right, Will," she said finally. "But an answer to that question will cost you. What's the bet?"

Riker grinned. "It's the captain's bet this round," he replied. "But next round, if I get the higher card, then you talk. If you get it, I'll take your night duty shift tomorrow."

Beverly pretended to consider. It was actually a no-lose situation from her perspective; if she lost, no harm would be done, but if she won, well...after the events of this past week, she could think of a good way to spend a free night shift. "Deal."

Picard inclined his head in acknowledgment and glanced around at the cards showing, including his ten of spades. "Twenty," he said, placing his chips in the center.

"I'm out," Deanna said immediately.

Geordi added his chips, then the bet passed to Beverly. She matched the bet, smug eyes locked with Riker's. Worf and Data also called, leaving Riker last.

He gave his best Cheshire-cat smile back at the doctor before muttering, "Oh, I'm definitely staying in," adding his chips, and dealing the next round. Beverly received a seven of clubs and all eyes followed around patiently to see Riker's nine of diamonds, whereupon rapt attention shifted back across the table.

"All right." Beverly smiled again, unruffled, and drew out the moment as best she could. "Since everyone seems so interested...the answer is: nothing. Nothing happened after the game last Tuesday." It was a carefully phrased answer, because later on in the week, of course, a great deal had happened...but she was going to attempt to keep that to herself as long as possible.

Riker cocked a skeptical eyebrow at her. "Are you sure about that?"

"She's telling the truth," the counselor confirmed in surprise.

Beverly turned wounded blue eyes to her friend. "Of course I am, Deanna. Why wouldn't I?"

"Indeed, Doctor," agreed Picard. He exchanged the briefest innocent look with her, then continued pleasantly as she took another unhurried sip of her wine. "As such, it may in fact just be the case that I am having a good night, nothing more. And since that's all settled, I'll raise another ten."

"Oh, Lord," exclaimed Geordi. "I'm still not buying it, but I don't need to lose any more to the captain tonight. Fold."

"I'll see it," Beverly said, red lips curving upward.

The hand continued until it was down to Riker and Picard again, along with Worf. After the last round of cards was dealt, the captain glanced measuredly at the two men, and raised another five.

"I think you are bluffing again," the security chief rumbled at Picard, then added a respectful, "sir." His gaze was nonetheless a determined challenge. "I call."

"So do I," said Riker.

"Sorry to disappoint you again, gentlemen," said Picard with a smile, turning over his hand with a flourish. "A jack-high straight."

Another chorus of groans greeted the revelation. "Of course he has that," the first officer grumbled, exchanging a sour look with Worf. With a resigned sigh, he grabbed his tumbler of synthale and stepped away from the table in defeat. "Well, I don't know about the rest of you," he said, raising his glass with an attempt to reclaim his customary good nature, "but I think it's time I cut my losses."

"Cheer up, Will," Beverly encouraged him brightly as she stood up and stretched. "I'm sure you'll do better next time."

He glared at her suspiciously, but she offered only a sweet smile in return. Thanks to some good fortune with the cards to go along with the captain's skills, it seemed they'd gotten away with her little plan after all, and she was enjoying it quite a bit.

As Data cleaned up the table and everyone else stood, preparing to leave for the night and talking amiably, Beverly picked up her wine glass and began to wind her way over to Jean-Luc so they could walk out together—something that in and of itself shouldn't arouse any suspicion, as it was common for them to attend and leave functions together. Like last week, actually. She smiled to herself at the memories of that evening, and the week that had followed...

But before she could reach the captain, Data, having collected and stored away all the playing cards and chips, signaled for her attention. "I am curious, Doctor."

"About what, Data?" she asked pleasantly, finishing her wine. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Riker and Picard falling silent as they turned to hear what he was going to ask.

"I notice that you answered Commander Riker's question that you were not aware of anything happening with you and the captain after the game last Tuesday night," he began.

"Mmhmm?" Now Deanna, Geordi and Worf were turning their direction as well. Well, it was a good run, she thought ruefully.

The android finished with his usual mild tone. "But you did not volunteer whether anything happened later in the week."

Deanna's eyes widened as she shared a shocked, comprehending look with Riker.

"Well, Data, that's very astute of you," the doctor said slowly, stalling. "And it's a good question."

"It certainly is," Riker said, pouncing on the words. "Come on, out with it, Beverly." At her stubborn silence, he turned immediately on the captain. "Sir?"

Picard cleared his throat and exchanged a slightly sheepish look with Beverly as she took a couple of steps to reach his side. They were likely caught out now; no use in denying it. Of course, that had never been the plan—truthfully, he was impressed they'd gotten away with it as long as they had.

He might as well go first. "After last week's game, I did ask the doctor if she might be good enough to play a few extra hands before tonight," he admitted, fudging the truth only somewhat. "Just to reacquaint myself with the game, you understand."

Beverly nodded. "So there may have been a practice session—"

"A few practice sessions," Picard interjected.

"—a few practice sessions during the week," she amended smoothly.

"Nothing untoward, Number One," Picard assured his first officer. This was rather more than a slight fudging of the truth, but it didn't much matter, because he could tell from the younger man's highly amused expression that he wasn't buying a word of it anyway.

"I didn't think it could hurt. After all, the captain has been out of the game for a little while," Beverly offered modestly.

Deanna spluttered loudly at that, and Beverly glanced over in time to see her spit her wine back into her glass. "Beverly!"

"What?" The doctor was the picture of innocence.

"Yes. And so her assistance was very, erm...helpful," Picard was concluding.

"Right," Beverly agreed. "I mean, you thought so, right, Will?"

A broad, disbelieving grin had spread across Riker's face, and he could only shake his head in reply.

"Oh, my goodness," Deanna breathed. "Are you really telling me...?"

"So, does that answer your question, Data?" Beverly asked, studiously avoiding the Betazoid's gaze but no longer able to suppress the smile tugging at her lips.

Data nodded thoughtfully, taking their words at face value. "I see. That does not sound inappropriate," he said. "And it does provide a possible explanation as to the improvement in the captain's play this evening. Based on Dr. Crusher's extensive experience with Commander Riker—"

"Data!" Troi was in stitches now.

Picard glanced wryly at Beverly as she stifled a laugh of her own.

Geordi clapped the android on the shoulder. "Nothing illegal, Data," he said. "But I suspect they're talking about a bit more than poker..."

Worf regarded the captain with an appreciative assessment. "I must congratulate you, sir. You and the doctor have always appeared to be well suited for each other."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Picard said with a grave nod.

Data surveyed the expressions on his colleagues' faces, noting a range of surprise and utter delight from most everyone, except for muted approval from the Klingon. "I am confused," he admitted.

Picard took Beverly's hand, sending a pleasant shiver through her at the open gesture. "Data, Dr. Crusher—Beverly and I are—" He paused to consider how to word it.

Beaming, Deanna jumped in with the diplomatic phrasing. "I believe he's trying to say that they have started a relationship," she offered.

Picard nodded gratefully and shared a happy look with Beverly. Deanna could sense the contentment—along with no small amount of satisfaction from Beverly at their successful deception throughout the evening—radiating from both of them.

"And it's about damned time," Riker said with a grin. "I'm very happy for you. If you don't mind, though, Beverly, Captain—I'd prefer if the next time you two collaborate on something, it is not at my expense."

"Oh, Will, I couldn't resist." Beverly accepted the playful shove he gave her in reply. "Besides, if I didn't clue him in on all your tells, he would have gone after me tonight. And what would be the fun in that?"

"In the event, I don't think any of your usual targets minded, Number One," Picard added in amusement, receiving nods of affirmation from Worf, Troi, and La Forge.

Riker shot them all a mock-wounded expression. "They do keep coming back every week," he countered. "So it can't be all that bad."

"Don't worry, Will, it's not," Deanna assured him, patting his arm. "Now we just know we need to watch out for the captain, too."

With a rueful shake of his head, the first officer took a sip from his glass and smiled again. "It will certainly make things more interesting around here."

Beverly chuckled and squeezed Jean-Luc's hand, then glanced past her friends toward the door, trying to figure out a way to make a graceful exit. "Well. It's getting late, so I do think I'll head out now."

"Not by yourself, I trust?" Riker teased, with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.

Their relationship might now have been brought into the open, and he was quite happy about it...but that didn't mean Picard didn't flush a rather nice shade of crimson at that. "Ahem. Commander," he said, just a hint of warning in his tone.

"Yes, sir." Riker's voice was crisp now, though he sent one more amused look at Beverly.

Beverly ducked her head to cover a smile. She understood it was going to take some time to get used to being a couple in front of everyone, but then, time was something they had plenty of—and she could be as patient as she needed to be. Respecting the desire to maintain some privacy now, she discreetly let go of Jean-Luc's hand and then looked around brightly at the group. "So...same time, same place, next Tuesday?"