SIDE NOTE: I have to admit that at this point in the story, I am totally and completely making this up as I go along. The beginning and the ending have been etched in stone for weeks now, but this darned middle gets me every time...which means this could get VERY interesting. Mwahaha.


Barclay sat at a corner table in the very back of Ten-Forward, drinking his warm milk and watching the staff bustle behind the counter. He had tried to sleep, but his mind had other plans. Not to mention his head still ached a little from his unexpected fall.

Suddenly, the doors opened and the person he both longed and dreaded to see walked in quickly, taking a seat at the bar. He opened his mouth to call her over, but his vocal cords refused to allow her name to be audibly heard. Perhaps he should just continue to drink his milk and read as if he never saw her. As if he never saw her gorgeous wavy hair, her hypnotic eyes, her pink lips and soft light skin...

Good God, Reg! Have you completely lost your mind? After what she said to you? How she broke your heart and stomped all over it?

Hands now visibly shaking, he took a drink of his milk and forced himself to look down. But she is still so incredibly beautiful, and that jerk Trelane just completely ruined everything! I know he's manipulating her someway, somehow.

He looked up at her again and before he knew what had happened, his vocal cords decided to work. "Armanya!" he called out to her hopefully.

She turned slowly, her mouth in a perfect 'o' shape as she held a small glass in her hand. He noticed she appeared to be shaking as well, but why?

Please don't come over, please don't-oh Thank God she's walking over here, his mind flip-flopped as she made her way over.

"Uh, hi, Reg. I was actually planning to come and talk to you later. So...I guess it's good I ran into you here," she began nervously before taking a seat.

"Oh, you were? Okay, well, what-what's on your mind?" he tried to sound casual, but the sweat forming on his brow was screaming epic fail.

"Well, I know I don't deserve to ask, but I sort of-actually really-need a huge favor from you."

Barclay put his book over to the side and finished his milk. "You need a favor from me?"

"Uh-huh. It's important. Really important," she nodded before downing the entire glass of whiskey she had in one big gulp.

Wow. This must be one hell of a favor if she's throwing back alcohol like that, Barclay's mind observed. "I see. What do you need me to do?"

Armanya inhaled and exhaled slowly and Barclay could smell the alcohol on her breath. She had definitely swallowed more than one glass. "I need you to go to Holodeck Three in an hour. You and...Trelane."

"Trelane! Armanya, what is really going on? I know you don't really want the two of us to bond over programs and fictional stories," Barclay told her, his hand dangerously close to hers. "You can tell me."

"Okay, okay. Trelane wants to meet you in one hour at Holodeck Three. He wants to invite you to play a game. I know it sounds twisted but you have to go! You must be careful and not trust him for a second, but I really need you to do this! If you don't, then...then...Trelane-"

"Trelane threatened to hurt you if I don't comply?" Barclay interrupted.

Armanya looked down and nodded solemnly. "You have no idea. I'm really scared, Reg. I don't know what to do."

"Well, I do. I'll meet him. I'll go if it means he'll leave you alone."

"You-you will?" she asked, a single tear running down her cheek. "But after what I said to you earlier, I don't deserve-"

Barclay held up a hand to cut her off and handed her a handkerchief from his pocket. "That-that doesn't matter. If he is threatening to hurt you, I will do whatever I have to do." As he said those words, he was shocked to sound much braver than he felt. I guess love will do that, he thought.

Dabbing at her eyes, she thanked him. "Just promise me you'll be careful. Trelane is a member of the Q. You have to try to outwit him if at all possible. He's basically just a big, powerful child who takes winning very seriously."

He smiled at her but was very disappointed if that was her version of a pep talk. If anything, he felt worse. Much worse. "I-I'll be okay. You just take care of yourself here." He stood up and motioned for her to keep the handkerchief. "I guess I'll go and get ready to meet Trelane."

As he walked away from her, his pulse began to race and sweat poured down his back. You just had to go and call out her name, didn't you? one of the voices in his head asked him bitterly.

But she needs me. I can't let that jerk hurt her. I have to do this to prove my love to her and to prove it to myself, too, he argued. He just wish he felt more confident and less like a man walking right into his virtual Waterloo.


Trelane smiled wickedly as he watched a very nervous Lieutenant Reginald Barclay walk towards him and the holodeck. "Well, well, well, Reject. I was beginning to think you weren't going to show. Good to see Armanya can still be extraordinarily persuasive."

"You j-just leave Armanya alone. You give me your word right here and right now," Barclay replied, stone-faced.

"You have my word, dear fellow. I give you my solumn vow that I will leave Armanya alone if you succeed to beat me. However, I must admit, no one has been successful as of yet."

Barclay swallowed hard and tugged at his uniform. "Can we just do this?"

Trelane chuckled. "I thought you would never ask." As the holodeck doors opened, he cleared his throat dramatically. "Begin Program Squire of Gothos."

Within seconds, a dirt road leading to a medieval-era castle was in view. "Welcome first to my humble abode. We will need supplies, weapons and things of that sort. But first thing is first. You simply must come inside so that we shall drink toast and break bread. It's the only civilized way we can begin," Trelane explained.

Barclay nodded and followed him inside. As he entered the drawing room, he realized that Trelane's fashion sense wasn't the only thing out of date. The harpsichord, the giant globe and even the chandeliers and curtains were centuries old. "This is where you live?" Barclay asked, nonchalantly sliding his finger over the fireplace mantle, which had collected no dust whatsoever.

"Mi casa es su casa," Trelane smiled proudly. "I call it Trelane Manor. Has a certain ring to it, doesn't it? Come! Into the dining room. We must eat and drink post-haste! We have no time to waste before the game begins!"

Trelane led the way into the dining area with an incredibly long dining table. It was made to seat at least thirty people and prepared food covered almost every square inch. "I always am prepared for last minute parties. Now, do you prefer red wine or white?"

"Um, I don't drink either. Do you have any ginger ale or cider?"

Trelane looked offended for a second but regained his composure. "Sparkling cider to the left, goblets to the right." Humming to himself, he poured some for both himself and Barclay. "Now for the bread. Some lovely pumpernickel. You do like pumpernickel bread, don't you?"

"That's fine," Barclay responded as Trelane broke the bread and placed half onto his plate across from him.

"A toast," Trelane began, raising his glass in the air. "A toast to the unbelievable fun that is yet to come. And a toast to Armanya. May she live as long as she wants, but never want as long as she lives."

Barclay raised his glass and clinked it with Trelane's. "What exactly did you mean by that last part? You swore to me that she wouldn't be hurt."

"And I have every intention of keeping said promise. But she will not want as long as she lives once she takes up residence here with me on Gothos. For you see, if you lose-and my guess is you will lose-she will belong to me. She shall leave that wretched Enterprise wreck and join me here forever." As Trelane watched the color drain from Barclay's face, he gave him a look of mock guilt. "Oh, dear. Did I not mention that before? Dreadfully sorry, dear Reject. But all is fair in love and war. Or so they say, but I can't honestly admit that I follow clichés."

As Trelane watched Barclay's every move and twitch, he began to laugh. This was going to be like taking candy from a paranoid baby. And he had a huge sweet tooth.