***
Captain Jean-Luc Picard paced his ready room, so tense that if you had bothered him, right then, you would have been seriously injured before you could blink. Suddenly, he stopped, staring at the wall.
"Merde," he said, and he meant it. Was Earl Gray really that bad? Was he really *that boring*? Eyes out of focus, he sank into his chair, not even realizing that he had crossed the room to get to it. His second officer. His own second officer...if one officer thought this way of him, it was more than likely that the rest of them felt the same. Picard thought back through the years, his mind whirling. All those looks...all the laughter that ceased when he walked into a room...had he been oblivious all this time?
He could picture it now. The whole crew laughing at him behind his back. Every man and woman aboard the ship sending out their resumé to any place that could offer them a job, anything but the Enterprise, anything but Picard.
"He really makes our lives...less *wholesome,*" he could hear them saying to the people interviewing them. "Sometimes I just wish he'd go back to his vineyard."
Picard sighed deeply and pressed a few buttons on the keypad in front of him, calling up the Holodeck records. Twice today, and...yes, he was still in there. Who knew what the little devil was up to now?
The Captain started. When had he started thinking of Data as a 'little devil'? What kind of Captain was he to belittle his crew, even if it was only in his mind? How long would it be before his crew began belittling *him* to his *face*? And did *anybody* like archaeology on the Enterprise? Picard fell forward onto his desk with a 'thump!' and continued to think extremely upsetting thoughts...until...he sat up and pressed his comm badge.
"Doctor Crusher," he began...
***
"And I just get this feeling that nobody really *likes* my trombone playing," Riker finished. Counselor Troi, seated across from him, folded her hands on top of her legs, which were crossed in front of her.
"Well, Commander, I really don't know *what* to say to you. The only thing I can think to say is that this problem will most likely repair itself in time, if you believe in yourself enough." _And if you *practiced* playing the trombone for once,_ Troi thought wryly. The Commander had come to her over an hour before, and had *just* finished telling her about the incredibly *shallow* problem he was having with his life. _Maybe if you were a little less self-involved, you would have noticed that *Data* has troubles of his own._
"Oh, sure, Counselor, I believe in myself enough," Riker said a little smugly. "Couldn't you give me some *better* advice?" Troi started. Better? Was her advice not good enough? _Well, he doesn't know what he's talking about,_ she dismissed, but she didn't quite believe what she was telling herself.
"You could, perhaps, do whatever it is you do to relax. For instance, you could play some poker...find something *else* to do," she winked at him, obviously insinuating something. It took him a few seconds, but he got it. "Anything that will help you forget about this *whole* situation," she said soothingly.
He still looked doubtful. "Are you sure forgetting about it's the right thing to do? I mean, I should really work through my problems, don't you think?" _What is he trying to say? That I'm *wrong*? I can't be wrong. I've never *been* wrong! Well, there was that one time in the Jalara Jungle...maybe I *am* wrong about something. Maybe my whole career in *Starfleet* was a wrong decision._ A frown crossed over her face. _Maybe I'm no *good* at counseling. No, no, don't think that, Deanna. You were *right*. What happened to your control over your emotions, hmm? You used to be so good at that...wait a minute, *used* to be?! Perhaps the blockhead's right! Maybe I *am* losing my touch! Oh my God! I'm no good at *anything*. I....suck._ Troi felt herself slip into a deep depression, and silently cursed her menstrual cycle.
Meanwhile, Commander Riker stared into space, still cloaked with his deep feeling of self-pity (the deepest *he* could feel, anyway). He was completely unaware of what the Counselor was going through, at least until he recovered from his stupor a few moments later and looked back at the Counselor.
"What's the matter, Troi? You look a little upset."
"Oh, shut up, Riker," she said bitterly, looking down at the floor. "Go torture someone with your music." Riker was astonished, but, managing to get the idea through his tiny brain that the Counselor was 'Out', he walked slowly out into the corridor. As he glanced behind him, he could see Troi heading over to her replicator, most likely to order up a hot fudge sundae. He began walking to the turbolift. Maybe some work on the bridge would cheer him up.
***
Hey, everybody! Sorry it took so long to update (I figured people had lost interest, but I guess I was wrong. ^_^). And I'm sorry this chapter's so short, but it's very important (*evil grin*). Now that I've been inspired again (yay!), I've come up with an entire nefarious plan for the crew of the Enterprise (*malicious laughter*). Hee-hee-hee, chain reactions are *fun*!
Hey, and if you like this chapter, please let me know (*doe eyes, silly grin*), 'cause I love reviews!
Note to Goldenclaw: Aren't ya glad ya kept checking back? Now there'll be something to read! (*lets out a genuine*) Huzzah!
:O)
Captain Jean-Luc Picard paced his ready room, so tense that if you had bothered him, right then, you would have been seriously injured before you could blink. Suddenly, he stopped, staring at the wall.
"Merde," he said, and he meant it. Was Earl Gray really that bad? Was he really *that boring*? Eyes out of focus, he sank into his chair, not even realizing that he had crossed the room to get to it. His second officer. His own second officer...if one officer thought this way of him, it was more than likely that the rest of them felt the same. Picard thought back through the years, his mind whirling. All those looks...all the laughter that ceased when he walked into a room...had he been oblivious all this time?
He could picture it now. The whole crew laughing at him behind his back. Every man and woman aboard the ship sending out their resumé to any place that could offer them a job, anything but the Enterprise, anything but Picard.
"He really makes our lives...less *wholesome,*" he could hear them saying to the people interviewing them. "Sometimes I just wish he'd go back to his vineyard."
Picard sighed deeply and pressed a few buttons on the keypad in front of him, calling up the Holodeck records. Twice today, and...yes, he was still in there. Who knew what the little devil was up to now?
The Captain started. When had he started thinking of Data as a 'little devil'? What kind of Captain was he to belittle his crew, even if it was only in his mind? How long would it be before his crew began belittling *him* to his *face*? And did *anybody* like archaeology on the Enterprise? Picard fell forward onto his desk with a 'thump!' and continued to think extremely upsetting thoughts...until...he sat up and pressed his comm badge.
"Doctor Crusher," he began...
***
"And I just get this feeling that nobody really *likes* my trombone playing," Riker finished. Counselor Troi, seated across from him, folded her hands on top of her legs, which were crossed in front of her.
"Well, Commander, I really don't know *what* to say to you. The only thing I can think to say is that this problem will most likely repair itself in time, if you believe in yourself enough." _And if you *practiced* playing the trombone for once,_ Troi thought wryly. The Commander had come to her over an hour before, and had *just* finished telling her about the incredibly *shallow* problem he was having with his life. _Maybe if you were a little less self-involved, you would have noticed that *Data* has troubles of his own._
"Oh, sure, Counselor, I believe in myself enough," Riker said a little smugly. "Couldn't you give me some *better* advice?" Troi started. Better? Was her advice not good enough? _Well, he doesn't know what he's talking about,_ she dismissed, but she didn't quite believe what she was telling herself.
"You could, perhaps, do whatever it is you do to relax. For instance, you could play some poker...find something *else* to do," she winked at him, obviously insinuating something. It took him a few seconds, but he got it. "Anything that will help you forget about this *whole* situation," she said soothingly.
He still looked doubtful. "Are you sure forgetting about it's the right thing to do? I mean, I should really work through my problems, don't you think?" _What is he trying to say? That I'm *wrong*? I can't be wrong. I've never *been* wrong! Well, there was that one time in the Jalara Jungle...maybe I *am* wrong about something. Maybe my whole career in *Starfleet* was a wrong decision._ A frown crossed over her face. _Maybe I'm no *good* at counseling. No, no, don't think that, Deanna. You were *right*. What happened to your control over your emotions, hmm? You used to be so good at that...wait a minute, *used* to be?! Perhaps the blockhead's right! Maybe I *am* losing my touch! Oh my God! I'm no good at *anything*. I....suck._ Troi felt herself slip into a deep depression, and silently cursed her menstrual cycle.
Meanwhile, Commander Riker stared into space, still cloaked with his deep feeling of self-pity (the deepest *he* could feel, anyway). He was completely unaware of what the Counselor was going through, at least until he recovered from his stupor a few moments later and looked back at the Counselor.
"What's the matter, Troi? You look a little upset."
"Oh, shut up, Riker," she said bitterly, looking down at the floor. "Go torture someone with your music." Riker was astonished, but, managing to get the idea through his tiny brain that the Counselor was 'Out', he walked slowly out into the corridor. As he glanced behind him, he could see Troi heading over to her replicator, most likely to order up a hot fudge sundae. He began walking to the turbolift. Maybe some work on the bridge would cheer him up.
***
Hey, everybody! Sorry it took so long to update (I figured people had lost interest, but I guess I was wrong. ^_^). And I'm sorry this chapter's so short, but it's very important (*evil grin*). Now that I've been inspired again (yay!), I've come up with an entire nefarious plan for the crew of the Enterprise (*malicious laughter*). Hee-hee-hee, chain reactions are *fun*!
Hey, and if you like this chapter, please let me know (*doe eyes, silly grin*), 'cause I love reviews!
Note to Goldenclaw: Aren't ya glad ya kept checking back? Now there'll be something to read! (*lets out a genuine*) Huzzah!
:O)