A "Star Trek: The Next Generation" Fan-Fiction Story - by Vicky
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Work In Progress" is a follow-up to my previous story, "Misconceptions."
TIMELINE: "Work In Progress" takes place one year after "Misconceptions" and approximately two years prior to Nemesis.
PART I
INT. RIKER'S QUARTERS – Evening
The weekly senior staff poker game is underway. WILL RIKER, GEORDI LA FORGE, DEANNA TROI, BEVERLY CRUSHER and DATA, wearing his green visor, surround the table. Each player has a different amount of chips in front of him or her – Deanna with the most, La Forge with the least. Riker is the current dealer.
WILL RIKER
(To La Forge.)
Geordi?
GEORDI LA FORGE
(Tossing his cards face down on the table.)
I'm out. Again.
Riker nods and glances toward Deanna.
DEANNA TROI
(Puts one card face down on the table.)
One, please.
Beverly looks at Deanna with a wide-eyed expression and shakes her head.
BEVERLY CRUSHER
Considering the night you've had, I'm not even risking this hand.
Beverly closes the cards fanned out in her hand and drops them on the table.
WILL RIKER
(To Data.)
How about you Data?
DATA
(Thinking a moment.)
I will take three, Commander.
WILL RIKER
And the dealer takes two.
(Studying the new cards in his hand.)
It's yours to open Deanna.
DEANNA TROI
(Selecting chips from the pile in front of her.)
Fifty.
DATA
(Adding his chips to the pot.)
I am in.
WILL RIKER
(Eyes Deanna for a moment, trying to read her poker face.)
I see your fifty and raise you another fifty.
Deanna slightly arches her eyebrows and leans back in her chair.
DEANNA TROI
All right.
(Pauses.)
And sixty on top of that.
Data shifts his gaze between Deanna and Riker. Seeing both of them dead-set on beating the other, he lays his cards on the table.
DATA
I fold.
WILL RIKER
(Leaning forward, putting his elbows on the table.)
Let's see if your luck holds out, Counselor.
(Pushes a small stack of chips toward the middle of the table.)
It'll cost you two hundred more to stay in.
La Forge crosses his arms and lets out a low whistle.
GEORDI LA FORGE
This is serious.
Deanna glances at her cards and bites her lower lip. She takes a deep breath and tosses the required chips into the pot.
DEANNA TROI
I'm calling.
(Nodding in Riker's direction.)
Let's see what you've got, Commander.
Riker fans his cards on the table, displaying four jacks and a three of hearts.
WILL RIKER
Four jacks.
(Smug grin.)
Can you beat that Deanna?
DEANNA TROI
(Casually tossing her cards on the table – all spades, six through
ten.)
I do believe a straight flush does just that.
Deanna begins to rake in her winning as the grin falls from Riker's face. He runs a hand across his beard and shakes his head.
WILL RIKER
Incredible.
BEVERLY CRUSHER
Congrats, Deanna.
(Standing and pushing her chair against the table.)
As much as I'd like to lose another hand, I have some patients to check
on before I call it a night.
DATA
I am excusing myself as well.
GEORDI LA FORGE
(Nodding.)
I barely have anything left to lose. Have a good night, folks.
After saying their good-byes, Beverly follows Data and La Forge from the room, leaving Riker and Deanna alone. The two begin clearing the table, gathering cards and stacking chips.
WILL RIKER
I was sure I had you beat on that last hand.
DEANNA TROI
(Shrugs her shoulders.)
Tonight was just my night.
(Barely audible.)
... Loser.
Riker turns toward Deanna and folds his arms across his chest. A lop-sided grin forms on his face as he clears his throat.
WILL RIKER
(Cupping a hand behind his ear.)
Excuse me? I didn't quite catch that. Did you just call
me a "loser?"
DEANNA TROI
(Smiling and vigorously nodding her head.)
Yup, I – I did.
(Pointing a finger at Riker and then at herself.)
Tonight you were the loser and I was the winner.
WILL RIKER
(Taking a step toward Deanna.)
You'd better watch what you say.
Starting to back away, Deanna bumps into the edge of a chair, checking her balance.
DEANNA TROI
(Teasing voice.)
Why's that? Your big male ego can't take the fact that you lost
to a woman?
(Mock pouting expression.)
Awww, poor Riker.
WILL RIKER
(Broad smile.)
Okay, you asked for it.
Riker playfully lunges at Deanna. She lets out a scream and takes off running. The couple darts around the room, dodging tables, climbing over chairs and the couch. After a few minutes, Riker is able to grab hold of Deanna's ankle, causing her to fall to the ground.
WILL RIKER
Gotcha!
Deanna rolls on her back, raising her arms and legs in defense. Riker easily fends her off, straddling her waist and pinning her arms to the ground above her head. Both are breathing heavily from the chase and rising sexual tension in the air.
WILL RIKER
Didn't think you'd get away that easily, did you?
DEANNA TROI
(Laughing.)
No, but I figured I'd give it a try.
The couple maintains eye contact for several minutes before Riker lets out a deep sigh and releases Deanna from his grip. He stands, extending a hand to help Deanna to her feet.
WILL RIKER
(Moving toward the poker table.)
Let's finish cleaning up.
DEANNA TROI
(Smoothing her hair.)
Good idea.
Deanna finishes clearing the table, passing the cards and chips to Riker, which he places in a drawer. Deanna moves to Riker and reaches for his hands.
DEANNA TROI
Time for me to go.
(Kissing him on the cheek.)
See you tomorrow, Will.
Their hands linger together as Deanna starts backing away.
WILL RIKER
(Squeezing Deanna's hands.)
Stay.
DEANNA TROI
(Smiling.)
You know I'd love to, Will, but I have early appointments in the morning
...
(Lowering her voice and blushing slightly.)
... and I'm not sure we'd get much sleep if I stayed the night.
Riker gives Deanna a pathetic frown, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.
WILL RIKER
Please?
(Tugging on Deanna's arms.)
I need some counseling so I don't slip into a deep depression
over tonight's game.
DEANNA TROI
(Hanging her head.)
Will ...
WILL RIKER
(Mimicking her voice.)
Deanna ...
Sighing in resignation, Deanna steps forward and places her hands on either side of Riker's face, kissing him full on the lips.
DEANNA TROI
Okay, you talked me into it.
(Pauses.)
As long as you promise me a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.
WILL RIKER
(Mischievous smile.)
I'll give you two.
Deanna playfully punches Riker in the stomach then wraps her arms
around his large frame.
INT. CRUSHER'S QUARTERS – Same Evening
BEVERLY CRUSHER enters her quarters, having made her final rounds through Sickbay.
BEVERLY CRUSHER
(Removing her boots.)
Computer, list today's incoming messages.
COMPUTER
Messages received from The Journal of Progressive Human Medicine
and Starfleet Medical.
BEVERLY CRUSHER
File the first with other recent journal articles and transfer the
second to my personal viewer.
COMPUTER
Message filed. Initiating transfer.
Beverly retrieves a cup of lemon tea from the replicator before taking a seat at her desk. Pushing a stray data PADD out of the way, she adjusts the viewer and takes a sip of her drink. The screen flickers to life displaying the Starfleet Medical logo followed by the figure of DR. CAFRY DUCA, a distinguished, silver-haired man in his eighties.
DR. DUCA
First of all, Beverly, I apologize for leaving this communiqué
and not talking to you over a direct COMM link. My schedule has been
extremely busy as of late, preventing me from contacting you in a more
appropriate fashion.
(Pausing, he interlaces his fingers on the desk in front of him.)
You're probably wondering why I'm leaving a message out of the blue
like this, but it's merely to present you with an intriguing proposition.
As the communiqué continues, Beverly sets her cup aside and places her elbows on the desk, resting her chin on her fists.
DR. DUCA
As you may or may not be aware, I'm stepping down as head of Starfleet
Medical next month.
(Chuckles.)
My wife finally convinced me to cut back on my workload to preserve
my sanity. That aside, I'm recommending you as my top choice to take
over the position once I've left. Your work on the Enterprise
and in several other capacities during the past years has been phenomenal.
Starfleet could definitely benefit from your knowledge, experience and
guidance here in San Francisco.
(Smiling.)
I look forward to hearing from you regarding this opportunity.
I hope you'll accept because this is a position you're greatly suited for,
Beverly.
(Pauses.)
Duca out.
The transmission ends but Beverly continues staring at the blank screen in front of her. She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and massages the bridge of her nose.
BEVERLY CRUSHER
That is an interesting proposition.
– End Part I –
All "known" characters (c) Paramount, Star Trek: The Next Generation and all other relevant parties. This story was written for the enjoyment of other TNG fans and is not meant to infringe upon the copyrights of any of the aforementioned individuals.