CHAPTER 6

The next morning, I woke up to find Riker already gone. I cleaned up in the bathroom, and then replicated some tea and a bagel for breakfast. Then, finding no other books of interest, replicated A Midsummer Night's Dream to read. Riker must not be much of a reader.

I was on Scene II when I heard an announcement over invisible speakers.

"Senior officers, report to the Observation Lounge." It was the Captain's voice.

I absentmindedly took another sip of tea as I wondered what had happened. I knew that something had to have happened in order for the senior officers to be called together for a briefing.

I finished off the tea and bagel and then dematerialized the dishes in the replicator. Then, sighing, I returned to cat form. It was the only way to be safe.

Sitting on the couch, I relaxed. We would arrive at the space station the next day, and I would leave the Enterprise. It might be nice to be able to leave the quarters for the first time in a week, but I was sure that I would miss this place. As stressful as it had been here at times, it had also been incredibly peaceful and liberating at others.

Riker came into the quarters an hour or so later. When I saw him, I immediately knew that something was wrong.

"What happened?" I asked as he sank down onto the couch.

Riker sighed. "Romulans."

I stiffened. I knew that the Federation hadn't had the best relations with the Romulans, and my own personal encounters had been…unpleasant. Anything that involved Romulans had to be bad.

"What did they do?" I asked.

"Just a few hours ago, two of their warships entered the Neutral Zone near a Federation Outpost."

"Why?"

"We don't know. They haven't attacked yet, but the Federation wants us to be there. They think that a show of force will make the Warbirds back down. And if not, they could use our help in a fight."

"So we're on our way there now?" I asked.

"Yes, we'll arrive late tomorrow."

"I guess that puts off your trip to Risa," I said. Then the other consequences of this detour dawned on me.

"And our stop at Starbase 32," Riker finished.

"Yeah…" I would have to stay on board until we returned from the Neutral Zone, however long that took. It would extend my stay by three days, at least. Assuming that we returned to the Starbase after we completed the mission.

"After we deal with the Romulans, we'll be coming back to the Starbase," Riker said. "You'll be able to leave then."

"Okay," I answered. I sighed, exhaling slowly. Poor Riker, having to put up with me for that long. This trip was definitely more than I had reckoned on. Probably more than he had reckoned on, too. He definitely hadn't expected having a guest in his quarters for over a week.

"I'm sorry you have to stay here, I know you'd rather be on the Starbase," Riker said.

He was sorry? "You don't have to be sorry, I'm the one who's intruding," I said, looking at him in surprise. "I don't mind staying here for another day or two, I just feel bad that I've commandeered your quarters."

"You don't have to feel bad," Riker said. "I don't mind you being here, either."

He didn't? I sat up. Did he seriously not mind me being here? How could he not, when he didn't even know me?

"Thanks," was all I said. Sighing, I leaned my head against the back of the couch. "This has been a very strange week."

"That's an understatement," Riker said. I looked over at him again, snorting. How had this happened, I wondered. Just the night before last, Riker had been pointing a phaser at me and about to turn me into security. Now we were sitting side by side on the couch, talking and…joking? I wasn't sure what was going on any more.

"I don't know about you, but I haven't eaten breakfast yet," Riker said, rising.

Riker had to leave not much later, no doubt to prepare for the coming encounter with the Romulans. I didn't know what was going to happen, but I had to admit that I was somewhat frightened. I knew Romulan Warbirds were dangerous, and that their firepower nearly matched the Enterprise. But, I was just going to have to trust that we would be okay. There was nothing else that I could do, anyway.

At around 1600, I decided to cook dinner. Well, 'cook' isn't the right word when you use a replicator. Rather, I decided to program a new meal into the replicator. It was a Sandorian dish called Carbel that included three different types of meat and two cheeses. It had been one of my favorites when I was a child. I was just finishing programming it when the doors opened.

I almost panicked before I realized that it was just Riker. I had been so engrossed in trying to figure out the controls to the replicator that I hadn't been paying attention to the fact that I was standing in plain sight.

As soon as I saw him, I knew that something was wrong. For one thing, he was limping and, for another, he looked like he was in pain. It wasn't that hard to put together.

"What happened?" I asked, hurrying over to him. He leaned against the doorframe, grimacing.

"I was playing Parrises squares on the Holodeck," Riker groaned. "I fell off the ramp and did something to my ankle."

"Parrises squares?" I asked. "Aren't you a little old to be playing that?" Riker glared at me, and I sighed. "Give me your arm," I told him, wrapping his left arm around my shoulders and helping him limp over to the couch. Once he had sat down, I crouched down beside him.

"Lift up your leg," I told him.

"Why?"

"Just do it." He obeyed, lifting up his left leg. I caught it and rolled up his pant leg a few times. Then, slipping off his shoe and sock, I surveyed the damage. The ankle was already swollen and was starting to bruise. I carefully applied pressure to several points. "Does this hurt?"

"Yes!" Riker jerked his leg out of my grasp and carefully stretched out on the couch.

"It's not broken," I told him, standing up. "Just sprained."

"Great," Riker groaned, covering his eyes.

I surveyed him, lying on the couch with his arm placed over his eyes. He looked miserable.

"Why didn't you go to Sickbay?"

"Beverly keeps telling me that I shouldn't play Parrises Squares. If I go in with another injury, she'll just have another chance to gloat."

"That's it?" Wasn't a little annoyance worth having your ankle healed?

Riker lifted his arm off his eyes and looked at me. "The Chief Medical Officer can also restrict Holodeck Privileges if she feels they pose a risk to the health."

"Ah," I said. So that was the reason.

Riker closed his eyes, no doubt deciding to bask in his pain for a while since he wasn't doing anything about.

"If you're not going to go to Sickbay, you should get some ice on that," I told him, walking over to the replicator. I ordered it to create several ice packs.

"I'm putting these on your ankle," I told Riker when I had them. "It'll help with the swelling." I knelt beside the couch and situated the ice packs on his ankle.

"Thank you," Riker said. "That helps."

"Yeah. The swelling should go down in a few hours, but that won't be completely better by tomorrow. You're going to have to go to Sickbay sometime."

"I'll be fine."

"Riker, you can't walk, how do you expect to perform you duties?" I asked. "Look, once the swelling goes down it won't be so bad. Call Dr. Crusher in here and just say that you hurt it some other way. You," I looked around the room for inspiration, then realized that I was it, "tripped over your cat."

Riker sat up, careful to keep his ankle still.

"That's a good idea."

"So you'll do it?"

"Once the swelling goes down."

I smiled. "Good." I went back to the replicator. "Carbel, and Wabash." A bowl full of Carbel and a glass of yellow-tan liquid appeared. "Are you hungry?" I asked Riker, looking down at him. He had propped himself up in a sitting position against the armrest and was now as facing me.

"Yeah. What is that?"

"It's a Sandorian dish," I told him. "I programmed it into the replicator."

"Is it good?"

"Yes."

I picked up the food and looked back at Riker. It looked like he was about to get up. Or trying to, in any case.

"Don't get up," I told him. "You don't want to hurt your ankle more. Here, I'll get it."

"You don't have to," Riker started, but I had set the food on the table and was already at the replicator.

"What do you want?"

"Whatever you're having," Riker answered. I ordered another helping and handed it to him, setting the Wabash on the coffee table.

"Thank you," Riker said, looking up at me.

"Wait until you've tasted it," I told him.

"I mean about the ankle, too," Riker said. "It feels better."

"Good. And you're welcome."

I returned to the table to eat.

Later, I thought about what had happened. It was the first time that I had been around Riker without over-thinking everything I said, or trying to gauge his reaction to something I said. Well, they say crises bring out the best in people. Maybe small ones made me less nervous.