Will Riker lounges poolside at The Palms resort in Kingston, Jamaica, circa 1963. A private cocktail fête is underway, and international socialites are sipping drinks, engaging in lively chatter, and generally trying to look beautiful. Will is garbed in an unbuttoned, cream-colored cabana shirt, khaki shorts, and Moroccan sandals. He is sitting alone, but he has his eye on a particularly voluptuous blonde at a table across the patio. She notices that she is under surveillance, and sashays over to her observer, giving Will a delicious view of her bikini. The bikini top is adorned with two large pineapples. The woman stands in front of Riker's table.
Will Riker: With a British accent. Tell me, is it true that pineapple tastes best when chilled?
Woman: In a sultry Hungarian voice. Yes. You certainly know your fruits.
Will: That may be, however, I am always game for learning more about them.
A heavyset waiter in a white suit exchanges a barely detectable glance with the woman, then approaches Will.
Waiter: Can I get you anything, Sir?
Will: I'll have a martini—
Before Will can finish his sentence, the waiter has a small handgun at Will's back. Without missing a beat, Will reaches behind and thrusts the waiter's arm away, sending the gun sliding across the ground. He throws a punch that hits the waiter's jaw dead center. Party guests flee the pool area, shrieking and screaming. The waiter pushes Will into the table, but Will quickly frees himself by pushing the man off of him with his leg. While the waiter is attempting to regain his breath, Will pulls a pistol out of the pocket of his shorts, and a moment later the waiter hits the ground with a thud, blood streaming from the bullet wound in his head.
Will: …shaken, not stirred.
Woman: In feigned amazement. Who are you?
Will: Bond. James Bond. And you?
Woman: Nora Gazim.
Will: Miss Gazim, would you care for a swim?
Nora Gazim: Ah, a svim would be lovely. Flirtatiously. But, Mr. Bond, it appears that you are not vearing a svimsuit.
Will: No matter. We seem to have the pool all to ourselves. He begins unfastening his shorts.
Woman #2: Yes, it's just the three of us here.
Will: Tentatively. Deanna?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Beverly enters her quarters, still trying to make sense of being hit on in Ten Forward.
Bev: To herself. At least I have time for a nice, warm bubble bath.
She proceeds to the bathroom. On the way, she peeks into Wesley's bedroom and sees a gigantic machine, which definitely had not been there the last time she checked. Upon further investigation, she still cannot make heads or tails of the function of the machine or of how it works. She simply shakes her head.
Bev: That boy….
Wesley: Did you call, Mom?
Bev: Wesley! Where did you come from?
Wes: With a goofy grin. Gee, Mom, you of all people should know.
Bev: No, I mean I didn't hear you come in.
Wes: With a satisfied smirk. I try.
Bev: Under her breath. Whatever.
Wes: So did you need me for something?
Bev: I was going to ask you—Pointing to Wesley's memory-erasing device. —What in the world is this—this—this contraption?
Wes: Looking at it curiously. Golly, I don't know.
Bev: Deeply hurt. Wesley, I thought we agreed to tell each other everything!
Wes: No, I really don't know, Mom.
Bev: Don't you talk back to me, young man!
Wes: On the verge of crying. I told you, I don't know! I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!
Bev: That's it, I'm getting the belt.
Wes: Screaming and in tears. Noooooooo! Not the belt, please, please, not the belt! Before Bev even moves to get a belt to whip him with, Wes is under his bed, unreachable by Bev.
Bev: Oh, great. Not again. Taps her commbadge. Doctor Crusher to Commander Riker.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Deanna Troi: Go ahead, 007. Don't forego your little swim on my account.
Will nervously glances at his unbuttoned shorts.
DT: Don't worry. There's nothing I haven't seen before.
Will's commbadge sounds. He taps it.
Will: Riker here.
Bev's Voice: Will, this is Beverly. I have a situation here in my quarters.
Will: Wesley again?
Bev's Voice: Yeah.
Will: I'll be right there. Riker out. Taps commbadge. Resuming British accent. If you'll excuse me, ladies, I have some business to attend to. I know, I know, disappointing, isn't it? So goes the life of a world-class agent. Computer, save then exit program Riker007.
The Holodeck returns to its black and yellow grid pattern. Will is about to leave but is stopped by Deanna before he reaches the door.
DT: Aren't you forgetting something?
Will: Thinks for a second, then glances down at his partially opened shorts. Oh, right. Fastens button. Thanks.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The door chime sounds in Dr. Crusher's quarters.
Bev: Come in.
Will enters.
Will: I'll take it from here.
Will walks straight to Wesley's bedroom. He's obviously accustomed to having to do this.
Will: Wesley?
Wes: Sniffling. Commander Riker?
Will: That's right. How about you come out from under there and tell me what happened?
Wes: I—I'm scared.
Will: Wesley, c'mon, it's your Uncle Will!
Wes: Well, okay.
Wes crawls out from under the bed and Will and he sit next to each other on the edge of the bed.
Will: That's a good boy. Now, what happened?
Wes: I came back from Ten Forward, and my mom was looking at this machine here, right? Then she started asking me what it was, and I'd never seen it before in my life, so I said that I didn't know, but she wouldn't listen, and then she threatened to beat me!
Will: Struggling to keep from laughing at how pathetic Wesley is, and fully understanding why Bev is driven mad by him. Why don't we sit down with your mother, and the three of us can sort this mess out.
They go to the dining table and sit down with Bev.
Bev: Look, Wesley, I'm sorry. I just wanted to know what that machine does so that I can make sure it won't wreak havoc upon the entire ship the way some of your experiments and devices do.
Wes: I don't understand what it's doing there any more than you do. It appears to be of superior craftsmanship, and I'm the only person on the Enterprise who possesses the genius ability to have created it. If I did make it, I certainly don't remember doing it.
Bev: It wasn't there when I came home last night.
Will: You went home last night?
Bev: Why wouldn't I have?
Will: Uh, well, you know. Your little dinner and dessert with Captain Picard.
Bev: Will! Whispering, as if Wes can't hear her. How did you find out about that?
Will: Also whispering. You mean you didn't see me come in Captain Picard's door?
Bev: No. You shouldn't have said anything. Wesley doesn't know about it.
Wes: (Who's been listening intently to the whispered conversation.) Groaning. Oh, no! That's it! That's why I couldn't remember what that device is.
Bev and Will look at him with puzzled expressions.
Wes: I must have accidentally seen something I wasn't supposed to see, and, therefore, built a memory-erasing device to obliterate the image from my mind. Now I'll have to use it all over again!
Bev: Beaming with pride at her son's ingenuity and talent. That's my boy!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: James Bond is not mine, but Nora Gazim (Get it? Hehe, I'm naughty.) is. Will was called in to coax Wesley out of hiding because, as you may have noticed from watching the series, Will seems to be Wes's special friend. What Will sees in Wesley is beyond me.