Okay, here's my third chapter! Although I didn't really expect to be
writing one. Anywho, disclaimer is: I don't own any of these characters,
unfortunately. Please don't sue me, it's all in good fun.
Commander Riker was depressed. He ran his hand through his hair as he watched Data rush from console to console in engineering (through a protective window, of course. It *was* hot as an oven in there). His trombone playing couldn't *possibly* be that bad…really…in fact, he had always thought of it as being *distinctly* good. Riker sighed and leaned back against a wall, turning his head upwards to look at the ceiling above him.
I shouldn't be so offended, he thought. After all, Data *did* apologize.
Who was he kidding? It didn't matter *how* many times Data apologized (Data had, in fact, apologized approximately 17 times on the way to engineering-once Riker had realized the offense, of course-and was as sorry as any android could be), Riker's ego would *still be damaged. Sighing once more, Riker turned back to the window. Data's face was inches away from his-his eyes were focused squarely on Riker's face. With a yelp, Riker jumped back.
"Don't *scare* me like that, Data!"
Data mouthed something behind the window and put on a confused expression. He reached up and pressed a button to the side of the window. It slid up. Data repeated what he had said:
"Excuse me, sir?"
"Uh, nothing," said Riker. He straightened out his uniform, regaining his composure. He cleared his throat, waiting for the android to say something.
"I have finished, sir. The temperature in engineering has been returned to normal." He cocked his head, changing the subject. "Sir, you appear to be in the state that humans call 'depression.' I am wondering: could you please enlighten me as to why this is?"
"Uhhhh, Data…I'd rather not talk about it."
"Please, sir. I am doing a study on depression. I should like to hear your opinion about the matter."
Riker was very uncomfortable with this situation. Damn it! Why did Data have to be so naïve?!
I'm not about to actually *tell* him, thought Riker. I wish I could just leave.
A new thought occurred to Riker: what if he *could* leave? That would at least end this awkward confrontation, although it wouldn't end his depression.
"Well, Data, I, uh…I had better be getting back to the bridge. Lots of important things to do up there, you know."
"The bridge? Then I shall be joining you, sir. My shift on the bridge starts in five minutes."
Uh-oh. This situation seemed to be worsening.
"Uh-on second thought…um…I have a bit of a headache. I think I'll go see Dr. Crusher about it."
"A headache?" asked Data, switching gears. "Commander, I have had a great deal of practice alleviating headaches with just a touch on the skull. Perhaps I-"
"No!" Riker started. Data had a backup for everything, didn't he? Sometimes it almost seemed like he was *trying* to be a nuisance. "No, Data, I think I'll stick to the conventional method, here. Tried and true medical care."
"All right, sir." Data appeared unphased. "I will see you see you on the bridge, then."
Data walked off. As soon as he was out of sight, Riker leaned against a bulkhead and sighed a breath of relief.
"Commander Riker to bridge."
"Yes, Commander?" Picard's clip tones answered.
"The situation down here in engineering is all taken care of, but…"
"But what, Commander? Is there some further problem?"
"No, I'm just-I'm just a little depressed, sir." Riker spoke haltingly, rubbing his temple. "Maybe I should go see Counselor Troi about it."
"Are you asking me permission for a…sick day, Commander?" Picard sounded slightly amused.
Relieved, Riker answered: "Yes, sir. A sick day. May I take the rest of the shift off, sir?"
"Of course, Commander. We can't have a depressed officer trying to man the bridge, now, can we?"
"No, sir," replied Riker, almost laughing with relief. "Thank you, sir. Riker out."
Then he set off in the direction of Counselor Troi's quarters.
So there you have it. A cliffhanger. I'll be writing more as soon as possible, but, at this point, my fingers are numb. Please review! -Lyra, a.k.a. Merry.
Commander Riker was depressed. He ran his hand through his hair as he watched Data rush from console to console in engineering (through a protective window, of course. It *was* hot as an oven in there). His trombone playing couldn't *possibly* be that bad…really…in fact, he had always thought of it as being *distinctly* good. Riker sighed and leaned back against a wall, turning his head upwards to look at the ceiling above him.
I shouldn't be so offended, he thought. After all, Data *did* apologize.
Who was he kidding? It didn't matter *how* many times Data apologized (Data had, in fact, apologized approximately 17 times on the way to engineering-once Riker had realized the offense, of course-and was as sorry as any android could be), Riker's ego would *still be damaged. Sighing once more, Riker turned back to the window. Data's face was inches away from his-his eyes were focused squarely on Riker's face. With a yelp, Riker jumped back.
"Don't *scare* me like that, Data!"
Data mouthed something behind the window and put on a confused expression. He reached up and pressed a button to the side of the window. It slid up. Data repeated what he had said:
"Excuse me, sir?"
"Uh, nothing," said Riker. He straightened out his uniform, regaining his composure. He cleared his throat, waiting for the android to say something.
"I have finished, sir. The temperature in engineering has been returned to normal." He cocked his head, changing the subject. "Sir, you appear to be in the state that humans call 'depression.' I am wondering: could you please enlighten me as to why this is?"
"Uhhhh, Data…I'd rather not talk about it."
"Please, sir. I am doing a study on depression. I should like to hear your opinion about the matter."
Riker was very uncomfortable with this situation. Damn it! Why did Data have to be so naïve?!
I'm not about to actually *tell* him, thought Riker. I wish I could just leave.
A new thought occurred to Riker: what if he *could* leave? That would at least end this awkward confrontation, although it wouldn't end his depression.
"Well, Data, I, uh…I had better be getting back to the bridge. Lots of important things to do up there, you know."
"The bridge? Then I shall be joining you, sir. My shift on the bridge starts in five minutes."
Uh-oh. This situation seemed to be worsening.
"Uh-on second thought…um…I have a bit of a headache. I think I'll go see Dr. Crusher about it."
"A headache?" asked Data, switching gears. "Commander, I have had a great deal of practice alleviating headaches with just a touch on the skull. Perhaps I-"
"No!" Riker started. Data had a backup for everything, didn't he? Sometimes it almost seemed like he was *trying* to be a nuisance. "No, Data, I think I'll stick to the conventional method, here. Tried and true medical care."
"All right, sir." Data appeared unphased. "I will see you see you on the bridge, then."
Data walked off. As soon as he was out of sight, Riker leaned against a bulkhead and sighed a breath of relief.
"Commander Riker to bridge."
"Yes, Commander?" Picard's clip tones answered.
"The situation down here in engineering is all taken care of, but…"
"But what, Commander? Is there some further problem?"
"No, I'm just-I'm just a little depressed, sir." Riker spoke haltingly, rubbing his temple. "Maybe I should go see Counselor Troi about it."
"Are you asking me permission for a…sick day, Commander?" Picard sounded slightly amused.
Relieved, Riker answered: "Yes, sir. A sick day. May I take the rest of the shift off, sir?"
"Of course, Commander. We can't have a depressed officer trying to man the bridge, now, can we?"
"No, sir," replied Riker, almost laughing with relief. "Thank you, sir. Riker out."
Then he set off in the direction of Counselor Troi's quarters.
So there you have it. A cliffhanger. I'll be writing more as soon as possible, but, at this point, my fingers are numb. Please review! -Lyra, a.k.a. Merry.