The Next Game

by Obsession37

Summary: What exactly happened during the rest of Wesley Crusher's vacation in "The Game?" He and Robin looked awfully cozy by the end.

A mere 4 days into his school break and Wesley Crusher had foiled yet another attempt to put the Enterprise, its crew, and even his own mother's life, at risk.

He had to laugh. This stuff just always seemed to happen on board. Finally headed back to his quarters he shook his head. Everything felt a little slower, a little greyer – the after effects of the game. Luckily he'd been exposed for barely more than a minute.

That much serotonin, that much of a psychotropic high – the crew was already headed to Sickbay in droves for the psycho-pharmaceuticals that would counter the worst of the depressing crashes and withdrawal symptoms. Those that had been exposed the longest, like Riker, or who had logged the most hours, like poor Science Officer Lao, were barely able to function, even with medication. Half the crew had been confined to quarters, as the effects of more than 1000 people experiencing some level of the DTs at the same time made everyone a little touchy.

His mother had finally relented, given herself an anti-depressant hypospray and gone to bed after an 18 hour shift. Last he heard, Counselor Troi and more than a few others were testing the replicators' maximum capacity for chocolate production.

He, Data, and Robin had picked up the majority of the slack created by the senior staff's impairment. Data had been unaffected, and with this positronic pathways repaired was functioning like nothing had happened – although he claimed to be suffering from a 5% reduction in capacity due to the need to run and re-run level 5 self-diagnostics and complete other minor internal repairs.

Robin had "played" just long enough for the mind altering effects to take hold, truthfully, she'd been fairly easily convinced to go along after only 4 levels. She wanted to try and fool them into thinking she'd come over to their side, but the pull of the addiction was stronger than she had counted on. Wesley smirked, even though Robin had seen the results in medical lab the same as he had, seen the levels of chemicals that their brains would be exposed to, she still believed she could fight. Data had dismissed her for the night, suggesting rest and her favorite restorative activity to cope with the "blues" she was experiencing.

Wesley reached his quarters – his mother's really, but they hadn't downsized and repurposed hers after he'd gone off to the Academy. He thought they might, given that she just didn't need all that space, but being the Senior Medical Officer seemed to have a few privileges.

Inside the computer informed him that he had a voice recording waiting. It was his mother, speaking in the most defeated hushed tones, the ones most cadets used during the study days before final exams.

"Wes, honey. When you get this, I'll be…asleep. Please don't wake me unless someone is actually dying. I'm going to need a few…hours of rest. If I'm not out of bed by 0700, give me the hypospray that sitting on the bedside table. Get some sleep too. I'm…I'm so proud of you. You really…we miss you here…you really are a lifesaver."

A shower, a hot Vulcan drink similar to green tea – he picked up the habit from a classmate – and a half hour lying down was all he could manage. He was actually fidgeting like a small child. Adrenaline, maybe? He sighed, brain chemistry – crazy stuff and never held much interest for him, though he could respect the results.

He was going to start climbing the walls if he didn't do something soon.

"Computer, locate Ensign Lefler."

"Ensign Lefler is in her quarters. Deck 6 corridor 25."

"Is she…Computer, can you tell if she's awake?"

"Unable to provide that information."

Well, why the heck not?

Wesley passed Geordie on the way – he grunted and raised an eyebrow, barely interested, then thought better of it and stopped. "So Wes, when we're both feeling a little more up to it – I'll need your help managing the bandwith on the thermal array again. Doctor Hogan insulted one of the cartography teams and they overloaded the system in retaliation – now it's off line for at least 6 hours."

"Sure thing. Tomorrow – say, 0800?"

"Sounds good." He smiled – sort of an implied thank you. Geordie seemed to understand that Wesley got easily embarrassed and a little tired of constantly being the boy-hero.

Outside Robin's door, he fumbled for his voice a little. The Academy had stripped him of most of his shyness, particularly around girls. But he didn't want her to think he was trying to pull a Riker – yeah, that was a phase they actually used at the Academy. Ordinarily, the Commander would probably find it flattering, but given the way his sexual appetites had just been used to expose the whole crew to an addictive brainwashing device, it was probably better not to mention it.

"Robin, its Wes. You up? Decent? I can come back another time."

She sounded surprised. "Come in."

Her quarters were small, some bright fabric hangings accented the walls, making up for the lack of a window. Some Earth succulent replicas were on a side table, a few actual books on a variety of engineering topics were strewn about, pages marked. A tablet with a report on innovations to warp compatible lattice structures had been tossed on a chair. A display frame by her bed rotated through a series of photos, Academy architecture clearly recognizable in some of them.

"Can't sleep?" she asked. She was sitting in lotus position on her bed, in a simple tunic and leggings, less bright than what she'd worn to dinner.

"You either?" he laughed a little. She shook her head. "I figured you'd be the best company, since Worf's already broken up a handful of withdrawl-induced fistfights."

"I suppose we're safest together then." It was a bit teasing. It made him think of their meeting in engineering.

"You were fantastic today, by the way." She seemed a confused. "Well, you've probably heard stories…I mean, at the Academy they talk about all the strange things that can go wrong on a ship, but this sort of stuff with a lot more regularity on the Enterprise."

"It always seems to be life or death with this ship, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does." They were quiet, glancing at each other. "So what were you doing before I… I hope I didn't interrupt you or anything."

"Well, I tried reading, and couldn't concentrate, I tried listening to music but couldn't sit still. I settled on parkumi. It seemed to be working best."

"Parkumi?"

"A set of meditative motions popular in the Stryigian sector. A group of monks brought it to the cluster of planets where my parents worked when I was growing up."

"Show me?"

She ducked her head a bit, embarrassed. Wes gestured toward the limited open space.

"Come on. Learning something new always makes me feel better."

Wesley watched as she went through a series of motions – some elongating stretches interspersed with quick, precise hand and foot jabs.

Wesley made a show of trying to follow along before losing his balance.

"That's the third set – its name means something like 'hop and soar.' There are a few species of avians native to the Stygian sector that look sort of like that when they take off and land."

"Really? What do they look like?" Wes wasn't one for wildlife, usually. But he liked getting Robin to talk. It was actually the best relationship advice he'd ever been given. By Data, of all people. Asking questions about someone's interests lets them run the conversation while you think of an appropriate response or related interest.

"Computer, display video of the nightwile genus from Electa 2." Sure enough, something that looked like a miniature green flamingo used a similar hopping motion and then glided rather gracefully across the screen.

"Now that is a cool bird."

"We had them all over when my parents were doing research on Electa." She smiled, a real one too. It fell off quickly.

"Was it something I said?"

"No, of course not, Wesley. Just, nothing feels quite right, since…"

"Yeah, I know what you mean. How long were you exposed to the device?"

"A little over 2 hours, continuously." Wes did the math – while not nearly as bad as most of the crew, it was enough to completely upset her brain chemistry. She'd had a high, and was trying hard not to crash.

And while Wes was still feeling pretty uncomfortable with how he'd been forced to play and game and have it send weird jolts of really good feelings that he normally associated with another activity– in Robin's quarters his jangled nerves finally quieted enough to realize he was still feeling more than the effects of the game. He was aroused. By Robin.

Robin was beautiful. And smart. And brave. And terribly independent. And right now she felt terrible. And Wesley was a pretty dedicated people pleaser. Side effect of being raised by a doctor. And if he wasn't totally misreading her – the hand holding, turning coffee into a true date, telling him her rules – she had been a little attracted to him too.

"I've got an idea. If you're interested."

"Interested in what?"

Wesley swallowed hard. "Me." Robin's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "I mean, if you're not its fine – but I was just thinking that maybe there are other activities that might kick start the neurotransmitter production that the game disrupted. I know rule one is that you can only count on yourself – but it's more fun together." He couldn't help it, he smirked.

On anyone else that would have been downright lewd, but Robin wasn't so far removed from her time at the Academy that she didn't recognize that mashup of bravado and naiveté in guys like Wesley.

"Exactly what did you have in mind?"

Wes looked around, almost surprised that they were still standing in front of her view screen.

"Well, we were having a good time earlier. And I've got another week of vacation. You were flirting with me." He playfully boxed her in against the wall with his arms.

Robin closed the distance between them without hesitation. It threw him – you could never tell what a girl…a woman, he corrected himself, might be like when you got down to it.

Past an assortment of first kisses while Enterprise was on mission, there weren't really many girls – and he preferred girls – on board. So he'd arrived at the Academy full of knowledge but with little practical experience. But he'd also been given a field commission on Starfleet's flagship. So to say he was popular was an understatement.

The Academy was such a mixed bag of cultures. Not everyone could say they'd made a Vulcan blush – T'mal had been sweet and chaste, but decided to concentrate on her studies rather than date seriously. Some women were downright forceful when they fancied you. Kirach had some Klingon three generations back – enough for a very delicate cranial ridge, and serious strength. Wesley actually dislocated his shoulder when they spent the night together. They'd been camping in the mountains near the Academy, but he'd refused to call for a medical transport, waiting until they returned to campus to head to Sick Bay.

Kirach's passion may have cooled, but her respect for him was rock solid. He'd said he dislocated it in a fall, sparing her sense of honor and bearing the injury in a way that would have seriously impressed her full Klingon cousins. He'd gone on a few dates with Polly Nakamura – the source of most of his experience with romance. Polly had figured out that he wasn't really some wonderkind Starfleet hero, just an ordinary guy with a knack for finding himself in extraordinary situations. She was older – in her second to last year at the Academy – and did wonders for his confidence with women.

All this is to say that Robin still surprised him. She made a small sigh somewhere in the back of her throat. When he ran his hand down her side and wrapped an arm around her waist, her breathing caught.

These weren't the noises she made when they were pretending to use the game. These were better. These lit a fire in his chest and made him want to find more ways to get her to make them.

He pulled her closer, knowing she'd be able to feel that he wanted more. But he rested his forehead against hers – no need to rush. By now they were breathing hard.

"Goodnight Wesley."

"Wait, what? Was it something I—"

"No. I have a duty shift in – Computer, what's the time?"

"The time is 02:30."

"In five hours, and based on how many of the engineering team were visiting sick bay last night, we're going to be short staffed." She was sort of laughing when she said it.

"Right. You're right. I guess… I'll see you there. Geordie…Commander LaForge asked me to come by and help out."

"1900."

"Excuse me?"

"1900, I managed to wrangle some time on Holodeck 2 tomorrow – meet me there. Bring a bathing suit. I want to see if that birthmark really does look like a constitution class ship."

"Right."

"Wesley, you'll have to let go now."

"Right." He gave her cheek a peck as he untangled himself from her.

Wesley had a hectic day. Robin had been right, folks all over the ship were calling in sick. Despite being some of the first effected, the Senior Staff hadn't spent too much time actually using the devices. Except Commander Riker.

But like a good Starfleet officer, he had reported for his shift. By 1130, he'd yelled at two visiting science officers and a helmsman, so the Captain had sent him to Engineering to check on Geordie's progress on getting the science teams back on track. By the time he arrived he was sweating, visibly shaking, and scratching at his uniform.

Geordie took one look at him and tried to convince him to go to sickbay. When that didn't work he actually quoted three separate regs about being unfit for duty and then quietly threatened to order him, in front of the junior staff, to report to Dr. Crusher.

In a fit of inspiration – Wesley jumped in and offered to make the trip under the guise of picking the Commander's brain, since he was planning on lunch with his mother. He suggested that Will might want to check on her as well, since she had been so effected by the device. Just the sort of thing a good second in command would do.

The impressed look that Robin gave Wesley as he made his way out of Engineering with a very twitchy Riker restored him to good spirits. His work had been the absolute opposite of Robin's so they'd barely said a word all morning. But when he'd catch her staring from the other side of the warp core, he'd loose his spot in the bandwidth calculations and have to start over. It was probably for the best they weren't in the same room now, before one of them overloaded an EPS conduit. Metaphorically or literally.

Wes was surprised at just how terrible his mother looked. Apparently sleep hadn't been much help, and her left hand still had a detectable tremor. By the time the doctor got Riker settled, and knocked him out with a hypospray – the kindest way to let him finish the withdrawal – Wesley had set up a light lunch in her office.

"Oh, Wes, honey. This was very thoughtful but I don't know that I'm all that hungry."

"And doctors are terrible patients. You need to eat something. Andorian sweet tomato soup. Tastes better than plo-meek broth, but just as restorative – got the recipe from one of my classmates." He tucked into a sandwich before making her some decaf tea. Caffeine was probably the opposite of what she needed, even if she was tired.

"Will Commander Riker be alright?"

"Yes, it will just take longer – he received a steady low dose exposure over five days. He'll be out of sorts for a while, but the worst of it will pass in about 8 hours. I can't believe Will thought he could work today."

"I'm surprised you're doing so well. Have you taken anything?"

"Just enough of a dose of anti-psychotropics to let me work. The replicator was being finicky for the last few days. Running it nonstop to try and make enough medications to treat nearly 900 adults and the incredibly precise doses for a few children just burnt the thing out. Geordie is supposed to send someone up to repair it, but…"

"Children? Kids go a hold of those things?" Their developing brains would have been particularly susceptible.

"Alexander, in particular," she murmured, as Lieutenant Worf made his way into her office.

"Mom, I'll let Geordie know that I'm taking a look at the replicator for you. He probably just didn't realize it was a priority. Make sure you finish your tea." He excused himself, trying to hide the fact that he was covertly staring at the last biobed, where Alexander tossed and turned in his sleep.

He spent the next 4 hours completely rehabbing Sick Bay's main replicator, his mother throwing appreciative glances and approving small talk in between patients. He finished just in time for Dr. Crusher to make up the next doses for the most seriously ill patients who needed to say asleep.

Just as they were getting ready to leave he handed his mother a hypospray and two vials.

"Who are these for, Wes?"

"You, mom. Dr. Hacopian's orders. We're going to go have dinner. I'm going to tell you all about my coursework, and then you're going to sleep. Really, those are the doctor's orders."

"And what precisely are you doing if I'm turning in early?"

"Nothing, I have a…date. I think it's a date."

"Is that why you got back to our quarters after 0230 last night?" Wesley blushed a little.

"I didn't mean to wake you, but I was too wound up to sleep. I guessed Robin would be up, so I went to see how she was doing."

"Obviously it was well enough to invite you on a date. Two nights in a row. I don't know her very well, but Geordie mentioned she was good at solving tricky problems."

"She helped me figure out just how the devices worked and what they were doing to everyone's brain chemistry. And she spent two hours getting things back online in Engineering when half of Geordie's staff was incapacitated."

The doctor gave him a good natured smirk.

"Well, I'm glad you get along so well. How many years out of the Academy is she?"

"Are you trying to ask if she's too old for me, mom? Really? We're friendly. She smart, and she's not all that impressed with me."

"And that's a good thing?"

"She treats me like a normal guy. It's nice to just be Wesley, not that boy-genius Ensign Crusher with a field commission who saves Starfleet's flagship, or captain, or shuttle, or mission..."

"I see what you mean." She paused for a moment. "You're turning into the kind of man your father would have wanted to know." She stood on tip-toe to kiss the top of his head. And he let her.

"So, dinner?"

"And your course schedule for next semester."

Wesley's mother was overjoyed that he was finding ways to excel at the Academy and make new friends. He'd always been somewhat removed from the other children on the Enterprise and it made occasionally Beverly question her choice in remaining Chief Medical Officer. But kids adapt. Wesley's newfound confidence among his old mentors and yes, the opposite sex, reassured Beverly that he was going to be just fine and was a perfectly normal twenty year old boy. One less thing to worry about.

After dinner, Wesley retreated to his old bedroom to try on several styles of replicated swimwear. Examining himself in the mirror, he was skinny. Bordering on scrawny. At least this year he had finally started to fill out a bit more, but despite his height, he was painfully aware that perhaps adding an extra fitness credit or two would probably do him good. Robin didn't seem to care. Probably a good indication that he shouldn't either.

But that didn't mean he was going to walk through the corridors in a bathing suit.