And Then There Was Fun

by CharlieFenwick

The crew of the Enterprise are invited to a holodeck murder mystery birthday party in honour of Data. Everyone is thrilled about to spend shore leave engaged in a thrilling mystery. It soon becomes apparent things are not quite what they seem. Something about this mysterious, omnipotent Butler has Jean-Luc on edge. Features the whole TNG gang and Q, Lore, and Lwaxana Troi.

2. The Opening Act

Author's Note: Thank you for reading and for your kudos, reviews, likes, and support! This was such a pleasure to write. I hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed weaving it together.

This is a long chapter. I generally try to keep things under 10k words but I felt I couldn't split this any earlier than I did in order to maintain the appropriate flow of the story.

This is intended to be fun, light-hearted story with a mystery and a bit of fluff.

This story involves an ensemble cast and based on the notion of the crew participating in a murder mystery. If you've never participated in one, the general concept is that participants assume a character role and work together to find clues and solve the case.

This is set in the same universe as my series The Complication but can stand alone.

If you reach the end and find yourself wanting more, I urge you to check out the rest of The Complication series.

---

"Thank you, Ensign," Tasha said as a Security Ensign at Starbase 515 handed back her Parrises Squares duffle bag.

They had docked at 11:00 and their shore leave had begun at 16:00. As per standard procedure, all of their bags were scanned upon arrival. Tasha was eager to get to the holodeck early and scope out the fictional setting.

"Great minds think alike," a deep, familiar voice said from behind.

Tasha turned to see Worf checking in with Starbase Security.

"Well, I wanted to get down there early and scope the place out," Tasha confessed.

"Likewise. It seemed appropriate for my role," Worf said stoically before adding, "and if we are to be successful in solving this mystery then a thorough investigation is necessary."

The Security Ensign had finished scanning Worf's go-bag and handed it back to the Klingon.

Tasha and Worf made their way onto the main promenade of Starbase 515. Starbase 515 was one the largest starbases in the quadrant. The main base was located on the surface of the planet. It was a large, sprawling installation with shoppes, accommodations, a satellite Starfleet Academy location, training facilities, and one of the most well-equipped Starfleet medical facilities in the galaxy.

There was a dock in orbit above the planet for starships that featured advanced engineering repair service centre and a Starfleet Helm Advanced training facility.

Starbase 515 also boasted the largest holodeck ever created and that's where they were headed.

They reached the turbolift and stepped inside.

"Looking good," Tasha said with a smile as she took a look at Worf who was wearing a fabulously embellished dark red and purple jacket, coordinating trousers, and even an apricot ascot.

It wasn't often Worf dressed up, but when he did, he really looked sharp.

For her part, Tasha had been a little sceptical about the costumes. She liked her Starfleet uniform. It was practical. As a Security officer, she needed clothing that would permit her freedom of movement. She didn't see much sense in some of them, but she was grateful for the one she had on presently – trousers, a comfortable bowtie blouse, and wellies.

"Thank you. It suits you," Worf replied with a small nod.

Tasha flashed him a smile. It might not seem like high praise but coming from Worf it was quite a compliment.

They stepped off the turbolift and made their way down the corridor to the arch.

"What did you mean by 'it seems appropriate for your role?' Are you the inspector?" Tasha asked.

Worf shook his head.

"Major Rupert Hawke at your service," he said as he tipped his heat.

"Well Major, it is a pleasure to meet you," she said, playing along. "Natalie Moran."

The arch slid open, and they stepped inside.

"Then this is your home," Worf said as they stepped onto the holodeck.

They stood momentarily frozen as they took in the sight.

"Wow," Tasha said with a big breath.

"Nice house," Worf said simply.

It was an understatement. Tasha had only ever read about houses like the one that stood before them.

Looking around, she scanned the landscape. To the left, there was a loch with a tiny island. There appeared to be a ruined structure on the island. From where she was standing, she guessed it couldn't be an actual structure and was more likely an architectural folly.

To the right, there was a sprawling green lawn dotted with occasional garden features. In the distance, there was a whitewash stone bridge arched overtop a slow-moving river. Beyond the bridge, the scene faded into forest. In fact, the entire estate was surrounded by a dense forest, thick with trees and fog the clung low to the ground.

They were standing on a cobblestone road lined with yew hedges that led up to the house.

It was an imposing structure with tall red stone walls covered in ivy. There were large, diamond grille windows, stone arches, and a mansard baroque roof.

"Let's go check it out. Based on the size of this place, a little head start can't hurt," Tasha said.

"It might take three days just to find the kitchen," Worf joked.

Tasha hit him playfully on the arm and they set off down the road for the house.

---

Once they reached the door, they cautiously stepped inside. The first room was a large entrance hall. It had a detailed black and white tile floor. Looking up, Tasha's breath hitched as she scanned the painted mural along the ceiling.

She was certain that if Data was present, he would be able to identify the source material. She surmised it was some kind of classical story from Earth, but Tasha had never had much interest in classical literature.

"Dedalus and Icarus," Worf said as he followed her gaze up to the painted ceiling.

"Bless you," Tasha joked.

Worf shot her a look.

"Sorry," she laughed. "Who?"

"Dedalus and Icarus. Dedalus was a skilled inventor. They escaped imprisonment by building magnificent wings. However, Icarus did not heed his father's warning and flew too close to the sun. Resulting in death," Worf explained.

Worf never ceased to amaze her.

---

They made their way through the main corridor past the tapestries, paintings, and neoclassical statues that lined the walls. Tasha was fascinated by the entire set up and wondered if this were based on a fictional house or something real that had once existed on Earth.

They had walked passed a formal dining room and lounge adorned with overstuffed chairs and a beautiful fireplace. They slipped into the library and decided it would be as good of a place as any to get started. Dark cherry wood bookshelves lined the walls full of books on every subject imaginable.

Worf stepped over to investigate a globe in the corner while Tasha noticed a door at the end of the library that was slightly ajar. It was a study and appeared to be abandoned.

She tiptoed across the carpet to the large, wooden desk and glanced at the contents on the desk. Nothing appeared to be of particular importance. There was a feathered pen and inkwell, some parchment with the fictional Moran Estate emblem, and a fictional antique newspaper dated from 9 October 1952 with a headline of 'LONDON RAIL DISASTER – DEATH ROLL NOW OVER 82.'

"It's like an archaeological dream come to life," a familiar voice said, startling her.

"Captain! Sorry, sir," Tasha said as she turned to see Captain Picard in the corner wearing a smart grey herringbone suit.

"Ah, not Captain," he said, keen to dive into his role. "Lord Thomas Moran."

Tasha nodded in understanding. She could see the twinkle in his eye. Knowing his deep fascination for ancient earth history, she was please to see how excited he was to dive into the adventure.

"Father," she nodded in response.

He arched an eyebrow and grinned.

"Natalie?" he asked for confirmation.

"Aye, sir," Tasha teased.

---

Just outside the study in the library, Worf continued to inspect the room. In some ways, he felt naked without his tricorder. But as a warrior, he was keen for the challenge of solving the mystery without the aid of advanced technology.

He ran his hand along the ornately carved wood moulding. He had read about ancient earth estates and the human tendency to invest large sums of wealth into show through architecture. He didn't understand the desire, but he could appreciate the beauty of it.

"Wait until you see the bedrooms," Guinan said.

Worf turned to see Guinan sitting in a highbacked chair. She was dressed a deep purple two-piece suit complete with a matching fascinator with netting and an antique cigarette holder.

"Guinan. What are you doing here?" Worf asked.

"Same as you, I suppose," Guinan replied knowingly.

Captain Picard stepped out of the study with Tasha in tow.

"Natalie, you remember our old family friend Madame Gloria Rosenbaum?" Picard said as he indicated to Guinan.

"Call me Gloria," Guinan insisted.

"And Gloria, you of course remember my daughter, Natalie," Picard said excitedly.

He was really hamming it up.

"Natalie, yes. And I believe congratulations are in order?" Guinan said as she stood up.

"Guin-Gloria," Tasha said catching herself. "You look brilliant!"

And Tasha meant it – with her fur stole, purple suit, and red heels Guinan looked stunning.

"And is this the lucky groom to be? Lord Finley I presume?" Picard asked as he turned to Worf.

"No, sir. Major Rupert Hawke," Worf replied stoically.

"Well, welcome Major Hawke," Picard replied brightly. "I see you two have also decided to come a little early."

Worf and Tasha nodded sheepishly.

"I was just so curious about the historical aspect of this opportunity I found I couldn't resist," Picard admitted. "Also, I figured it couldn't hurt to have a look around early."

---

Sonya was just pinning her hair into place as her door chimed.

"Come in!" she hollered.

The door slid open. In her mirror, Sonya could see Geordi step in. She dropped the pins she was holding and panicked. Turning quickly, she picked up the uniform she had carelessly discarded over the chair and threw it onto her bunk. With her foot, she kicked a pile of laundry under the bed. Next, she raced over to the built-in shelf she shared with her roommate and stuffed the drawers closed.

"Sorry about the mess, Lieutenant. It doesn't typically-" she started to say but Geordi stopped her.

"Sonya, relax. I'm not going to put you on report," Geordi assured her.

Sonya stopped racing around her tiny quarters and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Usually, we keep it in better condition but with shore leave my roommate and I have been trying to get packed and ready for-" she stopped as she looked at Geordi for the first time since he'd walked in.

He was dressed in a blue pinstripe suit sporting a bright red tie and a trilby hat.

"Wow you look good enough to eat," Sonya said.

She gasped softly. The comment had slipped out before she could stop herself. She knew it wasn't appropriate and she felt horrible.

She was about to apologise, but she saw Geordi blush and flash her a broad smile.

Geordi wasn't offended. He was thrilled.

"Well then, it looks like our host knew exactly what they were doing," Geordi replied. "You look great, Sonya. Or should I say, Miss Bettie St James?"

It was a gamble, but he was hoping she was the mysterious Miss St James.

Sonya nodded excitedly.

"Professor La Roux?" she asked in reply.

Internally, her mind was screaming. As far as she was aware, Geordi had coordinated the programme. If he had put them into these roles, it was possible this was signal that he did have feelings for her. Sonya was far too nervous to ask, but she was hoping this shore leave would offer some clues as to his intentions.

"I figured you may want to walk over with a friend," Geordi said with a shrug. "And we could grab a drink beforehand."

"Yeah! That would be great," Sonya said as she slipped on her heels. "This is really nice of you, sir."

Geordi took her bag from her.

"Sonya, before we head over there, I want to make one thing clear," Geordi said.

She felt her throat get tight. She was already terrified of spending three days with the senior officers. Now, she was afraid she had done something to upset Geordi.

"Shore leaved started at 16:00. Drop the 'sir.' Claybourne, Professor Claybourne La Roux," Geordi said correcting her.

---

"How much time?" Will Riker asked eagerly.

Deanna sighed and rolled her eyes.

"It's been three minutes since you last asked me," Deanna replied.

"I'm just so excited. I wouldn't miss this for the world," Will said with a grin.

Will and Deanna had met earlier and stopped off at the Jupiter Ascending pub on the starbase promenade for a drink before heading to the holodeck.

Since the moment they'd arrived, Will had been watching the clock with anticipation.

"You know this whole thing seems so un-Data like," Deanna mused aloud. "It's as if he's really embracing his creativity."

For some time, Deanna had been encouraging Data to explore creativity without the constraints of attempting to replicate an artistic style or movement. Despite his impeccable talent in art and music, he sometimes struggled to develop his own unique style.

"Our Pinocchio is growing up too fast," Riker teased.

Deanna took a sip of her synthesised cocktail.

"I'm just glad Tasha was able to convince him to go through with it. This is a big step. His very own birthday," Deanna smiled.

Indeed, it was a big step for Data and both Deanna and Will were excited to be included. They were looking forward to spending three days together with their friends. For the last few days leading up to shore leave it was all they had talked about.

Will Riker wasn't typically the type to enjoy dressing up and playing a role if it wasn't for a mission - goodness knows Doctor Crusher had asked him to participate in her plays numerous times – but ever since he had slipped on his mustard-coloured checked suit, he was more than ready to get into character.

"Any idea when the rest of the crew is heading over?" Deanna asked.

"No idea, but I do spot our very own Mr La Forge," Will said as he tipped his head in Geordi's direction.

True enough, Geordi was making his way across the promenade.

"Who is that with him?" Deanna asked.

"Ensign Sonya Gomez," Will said as he waved to Geordi. "Geordi's has a bit of a thing for her. Captain Picard thinks she's a jinx."

They were about fifteen meters away, but Deanna could sense that Miss Gomez was jumpy.

"She's nervous," Deanna muttered out of the corner of her mouth. "Be nice."

"Me? I'm always nice," Will grinned mischievously.

Geordi set down his bag and waved back to Commander Riker.

From the moment she spotted Counsellor Troi and Commander Riker waving to them from the open-air pub ahead, her fears about being around the senior officers came back full force.

She knew Counsellor Troi was capable of sensing her anxiety and that only amplified her doubts.

"Just try it," Geordi encouraged with a reassuring smile. "And if you aren't comfortable, we can go."

She nodded in response and they made their way into the pub.

They sat down across from Will and Deanna and Geordi got up to grab them a round of drinks.

"Commander. Counsellor," Sonya said apprehensively as she slipped into her chair.

"We aren't on duty. Besides, we're supposed to be in character. Call me Wyatt," Riker said with a wink.

"What's your character?" Sonya inquired.

"Colonel Wyatt Roderick III, described as dashing and wry," Riker said reciting his character card.

"Well, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Sonya replied.

"I see we're getting to know one another," Geordi said as he returned with their drinks. "Professor Claybourne La Roux at your service."

"Ah! Professor of what?" Riker asked.

"I am surprised you have not heard of me!" Geordi said feigning surprise. "I am the world-renowned explorer! Surely you've read of my exploits in the Amazon."

"Oh! But, of course! Forgive me, Professor. I did not recognise you out of the pages of the newspaper," Riker said as he slapped his forehead.

Deanna cleared her throat. They were starting to get stares from the table next to them.

"What?" Riker asked the table. "You've never seen a holodeck roleplay before?"

The table turned back to their drinks and Sonya choked back a laugh.

"Come my good woman," Geordi said dramatically as he extended his arm to Sonya. "We have a party to get to. Pip pip."

"Right old boy, we should get a move on," Riker concurred.

Deanna rolled her eyes.

"Are you going to talk this way for the entire shore leave?" she asked sarcastically.

"Tally ho, my dear!" Riker replied enthusiastically as he slipped on his hat.

---

Back aboard the Enterprise, Keiko Ishikawa was seated at the table in Miles O'Brien's quarters tapping her nails on the table. She had been ready for over an hour – including pinning her hair back. In an effort to get into the spirit of the party, she'd spent some time researching and practising styling her hair in bouffant style typical of the era. It had taken a bit of preparation, but after several attempts she had managed to get it in place. She had to admit, it was certainly flattering but far more work than Keiko would ever consider doing on a regular basis.

However, she liked the costume. Although she was happiest when her hands were in the dirt working in the arboretum, it was a nice change of pace to get dressed up and do something a little out of the ordinary.

"Hurry up or we're going to be late!" Keiko called to Miles who was standing in front of the mirror.

He ran a comb back again along the sides of his hair. He hadn't used this amount of pomade in nearly a decade, but he wanted to look good. He gripped the curls in the centre of his hairline and pulled them forward, giving them a slight tease with his fingers.

"Very dapper," Keiko said as she came up from behind him.

"You know you clean up pretty well too," he teased as he pulled her in a for a quick kiss.

"Are you just about ready?" Keiko asked.

She knew it would take them at least fifteen minutes to get over to the Starbase and through Security. They were cutting it close already and she did not want to be late for Data's birthday.

Miles threw his comb into his overnight bag and snapped the close shut. Keiko handed him his suit jacket and he threw it on. Pulling it forward, he smoothed out the creases and did a spin.

"Are you sure this looks alright?" he asked.

"Just missing this," Keiko replied as she tucked a handkerchief into his breast pocket. "There. Perfect."

---

Back at Starbase 515, half the party had arrived and found one another in the drawing room.

"This is phenomenal," Riker said in astonishment. "You know when we came up the road, the sky was starting to get dark. It even smelled like rain."

Picard stepped over to the large window that spanned from the floor to the ceiling and observed the darkening sky.

"It would appear we are in for a storm," he stated.

"Any word on when the guest of honour will be arriving?" Worf asked.

All eyes fell to Tasha who shrugged.

"I don't know. I haven't seen him since we docked hours ago," she informed them.

"I told you we'd be fine," Miles whispered as he and Keiko slipped into the library with the rest of the crew and observed that they were still short a few bodies.

"Chief, did you see Commander Data on your way over?" Riker inquired.

Miles and Keiko both shook their heads.

"Maybe it has something to do with the mystery?" Deanna offered.

"I just hope he didn't get delayed," Geordi asked.

Captain Picard tapped his combadge and called back to the Enterprise to Data.

There was no response.

He tried is combadge again. This time he hailed Starbase 515.

Again, there was no response.

"The holodeck must be interfering with our combadges," Geordi suggested. "It's a little unusual but given the size of this facility it could be interfering with communication signals."

"Then I guess we wait," Picard said.

Worf was happy to continue inspecting the house. Commander Riker went along with him, eager to get a sneak peak at their surroundings.

Guinan had sensed Sonya's nerves and had invited her over for a drink at the globe liquor cabinet in the corner with her and Chief O'Brien. Miles was friendly face and it helped to put Sonya at ease.

"Here, looks like you could use one of these," Guinan said with a smile as she handed Sonya a tumbler of whiskey.

Sonya took a sip and coughed as the burning liquid hit the back of her throat.

"I don't think this is synthehol," Miles said as he sniffed his own glass.

"Of course not," Guinan replied. "There was no synthehol in 1952."

Over by the door, Keiko was chatting with Geordi. Tasha came over and gave him a big hug.

"I can't thank you enough, Geordi," Tasha said warmly.

"Don't thank me. This was all Reg," Geordi explained. "He really outdid himself."

Tasha knew Barclay had a knack for programming holodeck adventures, but this was unlike anything they'd experienced before. The level of care and detail was astounding.

"And I'm not Geordi," Geordi added as he slipped his thumbs under the edge of his vest. "I'm Professor Claybourne La Roux."

Tasha beamed.

"Of course, my navigator and best mate," Tasha replied.

"Natalie!" Geordi exclaimed as they hugged again.

"I love how everyone is so in character. Blackjack over there spent almost a half hour on his hair," Keiko said as she pointed to Miles.

"Blackjack huh?" Geordi asked as he eyed Miles. "Sounds dangerous."

"Perhaps," Keiko said with a mysterious shrug. "Usually, these murder mystery parties have a set chunk of time where we introduce ourselves in character and start to gather clues."

Geordi and Tasha were both fascinated to learn that Keiko had participated in several murder mystery parties before. It had been a number of years – and certainly never on this scale – but she had some experience with the concept. She explained how it was important to interact with the other guests and that there would likely be a triggering event followed by an investigation period.

"I wonder which one of us is going to get axed?" Geordi exclaimed.

"And how will we know when to start?" Tasha questioned.

"I'm guessing if Reg Barclay organised this, he will probably walk us through the instructions when he arrives," Keiko guessed.

Geordi only hoped Reg wouldn't be late.

---

"C'mon Mom!" Wesley cried as he raced off the turbolift and down the corridor.

Beverly had a horrible time trying to understand the suspender belt that was part of her costume. As much as she enjoyed the theatrics, this costume was a far cry from the dramatic period pieces she was used to staging.

"Slow down, Wes!" she called ahead to her son.

She was certainly skilled at strolling in heels, but they were still heels nonetheless, and it changed the way she walked.

She rounded the corner to the holodeck and found Reg Barclay on his hands and knees stuffing his belongings into his overnight bag.

Reg Barclay had no intention of being late. In fact, he had left the Enterprise nearly a half hour earlier.

But he had tripped an alarm when checking in with Security while they'd scanned his overnight bag. It had meant they needed to conduct a visual inspection. He'd gotten more than a few strange looks as they pulled out the contents of his bag – all of the period clothing and some personal items.

In the end, it had turned out to be a faulty sensor that had triggered the alarm. But it had cost him precious time. In a rush, he'd hastily stuffed all of his costumes back into his bag and rushed off to get to the holodeck.

However, in his haste he had haphazardly repacked the bag. When he had reached the arch, he had tripped over his own two feet. The bag had split, and the contents were now spread across the corridor floor.

"Oh Reg! What happened?" Beverly asked as she knelt down and tried to help him.

Wesley was already on site, helping to pick up the scattered clothing and toiletries.

"I-I-I tripped," Reg said nervously.

Between the three of them, it only took a moment to pick up the contents. Beverly and Will and neatly folded the clothing but Reg had simply stuffed it back in as quickly as possible. He didn't want anyone seeing him like his and he especially didn't want Doctor Crusher handling his shorts.

"Thank you," Reg said as he clutched his overstuffed bag.

The arch doors slid open, and they stepped onto the holodeck. The sky was growing dark, and the wind had picked up.

As the wind whipped past them, Beverly clutched her skirt in one hand and her hat in the other.

"Look at this place!" Wes exclaimed as they stared awestruck at the fictional Moran estate.

"I think it might rain soon," Reg said as he indicated to the sky.

They made haste down the cobblestone road and stepped into the doorway just as the rain began to fall.

Once inside, they followed the sounds of their friends' voices down the dark corridor. The door was cracked, and laughter spilled out of the room.

Wes pushed on the antique door and it creaked as it swung open.

Miles raised his glass to the three as they entered and Geordi gave them a warm wave.

Across the room, Wesley found Commander Riker sitting with Worf over a game of old-fashioned chess.

"Wesley, my boy," Riker said greeting him.

"Ah! Sir," Wesley reminded him.

"Correct, Wyatt," Riker said, correcting himself. "You know, I think I'm going to call you junior instead."

He stood up and tousled Wesley's hair.

"Commander!" Wesley cried.

Riker shot him a look.

"Sorry, dad," Wesley teased.

As he smoothed his hair back in place, he realised Data wasn't there.

"Where's Mr Data?" Wesley said as he glanced around the drawing room.

"We do not know," Worf admitted honestly.

Over by the window, Captain Picard nodded and flashed Beverly a genuine smile.

He was standing with Deanna in front of a large, diamond-cased window staring out at the darkened sky as the rain pounded against the pane of glass.

"Captain, I am sensing something I've never felt from you before," Deanna said.

"Oh, and what might that be?" Captain Picard inquired.

"You are positively giddy," Deanna replied.

"You know Counsellor, I think you might be right," Picard nodded as Beverly came up next to him.

"It's nice to see you enjoying yourself, sir," Deanna told him.

"I haven't had this much fun in ages," Jean-Luc admitted. "There is absolutely nothing that could bring me down from-"

Without warning there was a loud, familiar 'yoo hoo!' from the corridor.

Jean-Luc's blood froze and he looked to Deanna. She could sense the frustration radiating off him.

"Is there anybody home?" a familiar and unwelcome voice called out.

"Sir, I don't know what is happening," Deanna assured him.

The door opened and Lwaxana Troi swept into the room wearing a vibrant yellow two-piece suit with a coordinated big hat.

A very wet Mr Homn was behind her shaking the rain from an umbrella as water droplets spilled out onto the floor.

Worf and Commander Riker exchanged a glance and Tasha looked to Geordi for an explanation.

"That's Ambassador Troi," Miles whispered to Sonya.

"Oh," Sonya said softly with a nod.

Reg was still standing in the middle of the room clutching his overnight bag with pants and a flannel falling out of the top. He had been trying to collect his thoughts since the incident outside of the arch.

He had subtly tried to find out all week who his fictional fiancée was to no avail. He was nervous enough around the other officers he had to work with on a daily basis. He hadn't been expecting a complete stranger.

Steeling himself, he decided he couldn't hide for the next seventy-two hours.

"Um, he-hello. Who are you?" Reg asked the woman sincerely hoping she was not his fictional fiancée.

There was something about her that intimidated Reg.

She eyed him up and down and without missing a beat launched into her signature introduction.

"I'm Lwaxana Troi, Daughter of the Fifth House, Holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, and heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed," she proclaimed. "Now which one of you is Remington Finley?"

Reg fainted.

He fell forward and the contents of his overnight bag spilled again as it split when it made contact with the hard floor.

They all rushed forward.

Tasha and Miles carried him over to a chaise lounge and Doctor Crusher set to work examining him.

She loosened his tie and undid the top two buttons on his shirt.

"Let's give him some space," she advised as everyone took a step back.

Guinan handed Tasha a cool flannel with a little ice and Tasha placed the compress on his forehead.

"What are you doing here, mother?" Deanna asked.

"Well, the same as you lot, I presume," Mrs Troi answered.

She brandished a familiar looking note from her handbag.

"You are cordially invited to stay the night as part of a murder mystery birthday celebration in honour of Lieutenant Commander Data," she read aloud. "I certainly wasn't going to pass on the opportunity to see you little one."

Deanna looked sceptical.

"Alright, it sounded like a good time," Lwaxana admitted.

Geordi had to hide his smirk as he noticed the muscle on Captain Picard's neck twitching uncomfortably at the thought of having to spend seventy-two hours with Lwaxana Troi.

It was no secret that the Captain wasn't fond of Mrs Troi's overt flirtations and larger-than-life personality. He hadn't invited her, but he figured Data must have included her. The idea of Data inviting Ambassador Troi was a little strange, but Geordi thought it wasn't really his place to question Data's choice. If it made Data happy, then it made Geordi happy.

"Well, Jean-Luc? When does the show start?" Lwaxana asked as she glanced around the room.

"We are still waiting for the guest of honour. And instructions," Picard advised. "And for the purpose of this scenario, I am not Jean-Luc Picard but rather Lord Thomas Moran."

"Aristocracy suits you," Lwaxana said as she stepped over to the liquor cabinet and helped herself to a drink.

Reg's eyes fluttered opened as he came to.

"Easy, Reg," Tasha said as she helped him sit up.

"Well, it would appear Lord Finley has come to," Lwaxana teased as she stepped over to Reg.

She could sense he was intimidated by her and decided she wanted to help him come out of his shell over the next three days.

"N-na-Natalie?" Reg asked, his voice shaking.

"No darling, I'm afraid for once I am not the one engaged. Although, that could change," Lwaxana said playfully as she winked at Worf. "I'm mummy dearest. Your overbearing mother, the Dowager Duchess."

Reg breathed a sigh of relief and then laughed to himself. She was perfect for the part of his domineering mother.

Realisation dawned on Tasha- Reg was probably terrified at the prospect of having to pretend to be engaged. She was sitting next to him and he seemed to relax once he learned Mrs Troi was not playing opposite of him in their little mystery.

"I'm Natalie, Reg," Tasha said as she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Reg looked from Mrs Troi to Tasha and felt his stomach flip.

"Y-you?" Reg asked as he started to feel warm.

This was Data's birthday, and he was going to have to pretend to be engaged to Data's, well, partner. He wasn't sure about the exact nature of their relationship – only that it certainly existed and was a topic of hot gossip among the lower decks.

The room began to spin, and Reg fainted again.

"I didn't think I looked that bad," Tasha said dryly.

Lwaxana extended her hand to Tasha and pulled her off the couch.

"It's not you my dear," she assured her with a smile. "He's intimated by strong women."

"Thank you, Dowager Duchess," Tasha said as she stood up.

"Please, call me Livinia," Mrs Troi told her. "After all, you're practically family since you're going to marry my son. You poor thing."

"Go, I'll stay with him," Beverly said as she waved Tasha off.

Without warning, there was a clap of thunder and the lights flickered.

The mood instantly changed as everyone looked around anxiously as they wondered if this was the start of the mystery.

There was a pregnant pause, but nothing happened.

After a moment, the various conversations began to resume.

Suddenly, there was another clap of thunder and the lights flickered again. Geordi watched as the antique bulbs lined the wall dimmed and hummed before coming to life again.

There was a third flash of lightening and Tasha noticed a figure standing in the doorway at the end of the room.

"Data," she gasped.

He was leaning against the doorframe casually dressed in trench coat, loosely tied at the waist, and a grey-brown tweed suit. He pulled a calabash pipe from his pocket and tapped it against the wooden frame. He said nothing as he brought the pipe to his lips and struck a wooden match to light it.

He puffed on it a few times and circled the match across the tobacco to relight it. He puffed again and then put the match out with a pinch of his fingers.

Data drew a long drag from the pipe as he crossed his arms.

"Inspector Fury at your service," he said authoritatively as he pulled the pipe from his mouth.

Tasha bit her lip to keep from grinning. Sure, he looked smug, but he was enjoying himself. He was in his element.

And I like this look a lot more than the hunting cap! Tasha mused to herself as she recalled his Sherlock Holmes costume.

Yes, in her opinion, he certainly looked better in a tailored suit.

"Welcome, Inspector," Captain Picard said as he stepped over to Data. "Welcome to my estate."

Data shook his hand as he stepped into the room properly.

Putting the pipe back into his mouth his slipped out of his coat and threw it over his arm. Next, he pulled off his hat Tasha took note that he had styled his hair with a deep side part and a bit of waved pompadour in keeping with the style of the era.

"Lord Moran," Data replied with a small nod.

"So, Inspector, when does this party begin?" Geordi asked.

"Geordi, I cannot possibly know the details of this programme. Otherwise, it would jeopardise the spirit of the simulation," Data said, temporarily slipping out of character. "I presume there will be some instructional onboarding once-"

Data stopped as the doors at the opposite end of the room flew open dramatically.

A man in a black suit with a white bowtie strode into the room. He was an imposing figure – taller than even Data and Commander Riker. He was flanked by five people – three men dressed in a similar fashion and two women in black dresses that buttoned up to the neck.

"Good evening," the man said. "I'm Quincy, the butler of Glenfiodh Manor. Dinner is in one hour. Do not be late. The staff will escort you to your quarters."

"Quincy, when do we-" Captain Picard began to ask but was cut off.

"Lord Moran, you know perfectly well that your guests have come a long way. Besides, none of you are properly attired for this evening," Quincy replied with a smile. "The staff will see to unpacking your belongings and you'll find your garments for tonight have been laid out for you."

"Astounding," Picard said.

This holographic program was truly unlike anything they had since their incident with the Bynars.

"Callum, please escort Lord Moran to his quarters and Miss Mansfield and Madame Rosenbaum to their guest quarters," Quincy instructed.

One of the men stepped forward and indicated for Captain Picard, Doctor Crusher, and Guinan to follow him.

"Lady Livinia, you are your children will be staying in the guest quarters in the west wing," Quincy said as he indicated to a door at the end of the room with a gloved hand. "Esme, please show the Finley's and the Contessa to their quarters."

"My, my, little one," Lwaxana laughed. "It seems even in here you can't escape being my daughter."

Lwaxana, Deanna, and a very shaken Reg left following one of the women.

"Now, Colonel Roderick, we're putting you and your son over on the north end," Quincy explained as he snapped his fingers.

One of the men stepped forward and awaited instruction.

"Malcolm, please show the Colonel and his son the way," Quincy ordered.

"I think that's our cue," Riker said as he slapped Wesley on the back.

The butler then instructed one of the women to show Keiko and Sonya to guest bedrooms on the second level. He assured them they would have an excellent view of the loch from their windows. He clapped his hands twice and they were off.

"You two will bunking across the hallway. No funny business, Blackjack," Quincy warned as he motioned for the final man to step forward. "Duncan here will see to your needs."

Worf eyed the hologram suspiciously as it picked up their bags and escorted them out of the room.

"Which leaves you three," Quincy smiled. He picked up their bags and stepped over to the doorway. "This way."

They followed him out of the door and into the main hall. They climbed the marble stairs but did not stop on the second floor. Once they reached the third level, he guided them down a dark corridor.

"Lady Moran, this is where we leave you. Your lady will be along shortly to see your needs," Quincy explained.

He opened the door and set her bag down on the rug.

"Miss Moran, do not dawdle. Your father will be most upset if you are late," Quincy advised as he took note that she was more keen on chatting with Data and Geordi than investigating her lodgings.

"I guess I'll see you at dinner then," Tasha said to Data and Geordi as she stepped inside and closed the door.

Quincy led the two friends further down the corridor.

"We're lodging you in the East tower. They are the finest rooms on the estate," Quincy advised. When they reached the end of the corridor, Quincy opened a door to the left and waved Geordi inside to the room next to Tasha.

"Catch you at dinner, Inspector," Geordi said with a nod as he slipped into his room.

Quincy then led Data up a stone spiral staircase at the end of the corridor. The climbed to the next level where he showed Data into the room above Geordi's.

"This is the state bedroom Inspector. I hope you find the accommodations to your liking," Quincy said with a bow.

Data's mouth hung slightly ajar as he scanned his surroundings. Along the wall, there were large windows. He stepped over to them and stared out at the grounds below. Despite the dark, his android optical receptors enabled him to see everything beneath him.

There was a large, four-poster bed with gold velvet curtains and plush pillows. There was a rosewood writing desk and highbacked armchair near a roaring fire.

"This is most sufficient," Data replied. "Thank you."

Quincy bowed and left Data on his own to dress for dinner.

---

Captain Picard was nearly finished dressing when there was a soft knock on the door. Quincy, the holographic butler, didn't wait for a response before he entered.

"Good evening, sir," he said as he made his way over to Picard.

He was carrying a tray with three bottles of wine, glasses, and a dump bucket.

"I thought you would want to select the wine for this evening personally, sir," Quincy said.

He pulled up the first bottle and turned it to display the label for the Captain.

"Here we have a 1920 Chateau Margaux Bordeaux Red Blend," Quincy said as he opened the bottle and offered the cork to the Captain.

Jean-Luc waved it off.

"As you wish, sir," Quincy said as he poured the first glass.

Once he had finished the first selection, Quincy moved on to showing him the second choice, a full-bodied 1941 Chateau Latour Cabernet Sauvignon from Pauillac region of France.

Captain Picard had to admit, he was certainly impressed with the quality of the wine. During the time he had known Data, he'd introduced him to a number of fine wines.

It appeared his time with his android friend had paid off.

He suspected no one aside from Data and Guinan would have such a vast understanding of fine wine.

"And finally, sir, this is a 1929 Louis Latour Pinot Noir," Quincy explained as he allowed the third bottle to breath.

"Let's do the 1941 cab," Picard ordered.

"Very good, sir," Quincy said as he placed the glasses back onto the tray.

Captain Picard turned back to the mirror to finished dressing. He was struggling with his bowtie when Quincy came up behind him.

"Allow me, sir," Quincy said as he reached around and expertly adjusted the Captain's tie.

Captain Picard did not like people getting this close to him. Nor did he like being helped. He knew it was foolish, but it was something he'd carried with him since childhood.

He cleared his throat and Quincy backed off.

"Thank you, Quincy. That will be all," Picard said as he nodded sternly.

---

Across the house, Geordi was in his own guest quarters. He ran his hand along his face and contemplated if he should shave or not. He had been considering regrowing his beard and had a decent two-day stubble going but was suddenly feeling unsure about continuing.

There was a rap on the door and Geordi hollered for whoever it was to enter.

"May I come in Professor?" Data asked from the doorway.

"You're already dressed?" Geordi asked.

"It took me two minutes and fourteen seconds to change into the proper attire," Data said scientifically.

Geordi shook his head.

"Well, then what did you do with the other eighteen minutes?" Geordi asked teasingly.

"I inspected my bedroom quarters and the view of the grounds. I spent four minutes and nine seconds observing the storm and another forty-two seconds observing the flame in the fireplace in my quarters," Data stated.

"Data-" Geordi started to say but Data interrupted him.

"Inspector Fury," Data corrected.

Geordi shot him a look.

"Data, do you think Sonya's into beards?" Geordi asked as his thoughts turned back to his facial hair dilemma.

Data cocked his head to the side as he considered Geordi's question.

"In some cultures, beards are a significant cultural or religious symbol. They can signify wisdom or experience. In other cultures, they are a sign of rebellion. For some, a beard represents sexual virility," Data said. "Is Ensign Gomez considering growing a beard?"

"No, you lunkhead," Geordi kidded. "I am."

"Ah, I see," Data replied.

Suddenly, Data's eyes grew wider.

"I see," he said, now with a full understanding of Geordi's meaning.

He pondered the thought for a moment before deciding his curiosity demanded more information.

"Geordi, are you and Ensign Gomez engaged in a romantic relationship?" Data inquired.

Geordi sighed.

"It's complicated, Data," Geordi said as he stood up.

He walked over to the bed and picked up his suspenders. He tucked his shirt into his trousers and reached back to attach his suspenders.

"Because of the regulations?" Data inquired.

Given his own relationship with Tasha, he was well aware of the nuanced regulations regarding romantic relationships between officers in the same chain of command. Ensign Gomez reported directly to Geordi and they worked the same shift.

"That's part of it," Geordi admitted as he pulled the suspenders over his shoulders and clipped them to the front of his trousers.

He could tell by the angle of Data's head that he was awaiting further elaboration.

"She's a lot younger – fresh from the academy," Geordi explained. "I don't want her to feel pressured. Our age and ranks mean there's a big difference in the power dynamic."

"Have you discussed this with her?" Data asked.

Geordi shook his head as he flipped his collar up and slipped his bowtie around his neck.

"Is this why you invited her along? To experience several days away your respective roles as Starfleet officers?" Data asked.

"Maybe. I don't know," Geordi said, frustrated as he tied the bowtie. "I like spending time with her."

There was a knock at the door.

"Not a word of this to anyone, Data," Geordi warned quickly. "Enter!"

Wesley Crusher stepped in with his dinner jacket slung over his arm.

"Do you mind if I hide out here until dinner? Counsellor Troi and my mom wouldn't stop going on about how handsome I look. I feel like a penguin!" Wesley said as he flopped down in the chair across from Geordi.

"You and me both," Geordi said with a laugh as he threw off his striped suit coat and slipped into his own dinner jacket.

"Penguin?" Data queried. "I fail to see the similarity between 20th century human dinner attire and the aquatic flightless bird."

Wesley laughed and Geordi shook his head.

"It's an expression, Data," Geordi explained.

Data accessed his informational databank on human idioms and nodded in understanding.

"So, what do you think is going to happen at dinner?" Wesley asked. "Professor Ishikawa said that usually there's a fake murder at the start of the event and then we all hunt for clues."

"I am uncertain. I did not establish the programme and have, thus far, been unable to deduce any clues as to what the mystery could be," Data said.

"Where were you earlier?" Wesley asked. "I thought you would have had this all figured out by now, Inspector."

"Thus far, no mysterious event has occurred. We cannot begin an investigation until there is something to investigate. I am afraid, we must wait for something to happen," Data said simply.

Suddenly, Wesley disappeared.

In truth, it wasn't just Wesley that had vanished.

The bookshelf that had lined the wall was also gone.

In their place there was nothing but the same wood panelling that lined the rest of the wall.

Data and Geordi looked at one another as their Starfleet training kicked in.

They both got up to inspect the wall.

"I'm not seeing anything out of the ordinary," Geordi explained. "It's just a wall."

Data ran his fingers along the seam of the panel and could find no detectable difference.

"Do you think this is part of the mystery, Inspector?" Geordi asked as he looked to Data.

"That is a likely hypothesis," Data surmised as he knocked on the wall to listen for any hollow space.

---

"Woah," Wesley said on the other side of the wall.

"Woah, indeed," Tasha said.

Wesley jumped and turned to see Tasha seated in front of a mirror on the opposite side of the room.

She had been busy getting ready when she saw in the mirror the wall behind her suddenly shift and Wesley Crusher and a bookcase come into view behind her.

"Are you alright, Wesley?" she asked as she got up and walked over to inspect the mysterious bookcase.

Wesley nodded. He was fine, just a little rattled from the discovery.

"A hidden door," he smiled.

Tasha eyed the bookcase suspiciously.

"What were you doing before it activated?" Tasha asked.

"I was just looking at the books. I grabbed this one," he said pointing at one of the covers.

It was a relatively ordinary looking book. On the surface, it didn't appear to be anything special.

Tasha nodded excitedly and Wesley gave the book a tug.

Nothing happened.

He pulled again on the title, just as he had before.

Once again, nothing happened.

"You don't think I broke it?" Wesley asked in alarm.

"It's a hologram, Wes. Maybe it's only supposed to work one way?" Tasha inquired.

Her eyes grew wide as realisation dawned on her.

"What is it?" Wesley asked as he noticed she looked concerned.

"Why would there by secret passage that only works one way?" Tasha theorised aloud. "You don't think I'm the one that gets…well offed, do you?"

Her heart sank. She had been eagerly looking forward to solving the mystery with Data. She certainly wasn't keen to spend the next seventy-two hours in solitude pretending to be dead.

"Professor Ishikawa said it's not always one person," Wesley said trying to cheer her up. "Maybe we all get picked off one-by-one? And who says it has to be one of us? It could be a hologram."

Tasha considered his words. He had a point.

"And maybe you don't get 'offed.' Maybe you just disappear, and Inspector Fury has to come rescue you?" Wesley added.

Tasha grew pale. The thought of being abducted – even fictionally – sent a chill down her spine.

She reassured herself that Data would never do that to her though, even for the sake of fun at a mystery party. He knew perfectly well how traumatic it would be.

But Data didn't arrange this. A pesky voice in her head reminded her.

"Data and Geordi are in the next room?" Tasha asked, suddenly feeling the need to talk with Data.

She didn't want to ruin his birthday, but there was no way she could go through with this.

Tasha didn't have time to think as the hidden doorway suddenly spun around again and they found themselves face-to-face with Geordi and Data.

"Whoo ee! It worked!" Geordi said triumphantly as clapped his hands together.

"It appears you have discovered a hidden passageway, Wesley," Data said.

Data and Geordi stepped over to the bookcase and began to inspect it.

"Yeah, I pulled on this book," Wes said as he pointed to the same book as before.

Data reached for the book, but Tasha stopped him.

"It doesn't work from the other side," she warned him as quickly grabbed his wrist.

Data looked back at her strangely. Although she may have appeared normal to Geordi and Wesley, he could sense an increase in her blood pressure and a subtle change in her voice that indicated distress.

"How did you get it to work?" Wesley asked.

"After you disappeared, we began to search for a way to activate the passage," Data explained.

"It took us a few tries, but we figured out this painting wasn't secured to the wall the same as the others," Geordi said as he motioned for them to step away from the bookcase.

Data took Tasha's hand and guided her away from the wall.

Geordi tilted the painting to the left and the bookshelf turned. He tilted it again and the shelf returned.

"Fascinating," Wesley said in awe before nodding to the pair. "Well done, Professor. Inspector."

"Indubitably," Data said. "But you mentioned the mechanism did not work on the opposite side?"

Tasha nodded.

"Maybe it's another painting or something in the room?" Wesley suggested. "I bet we can find it."

He made a move toward the door but Geordi put his hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"I think we should let Tasha finish getting ready. I'm sure Inspector Fury can figure that one out on his own," Geordi said.

Wesley turned back to Geordi who responded with a look.

"Oh, right," Wesley said in understanding. "See you at dinner."

---

Tasha showed Data back to her quarters.

"That's the wall," she said as she pointed to the panelling.

He looked from her to the wall and back again.

"I'm sorry. That was stupid. Of course, you knew which wall," she said nervously as she reminded herself that his spatial recognition programme would have keyed in to the location perfectly.

She made a beeline for the nearest painting but found it was bolted to the wall.

"Tasha?" Data inquired.

"Doesn't look like this is it," she said as she tried a light that was affixed to the wall. "Maybe this one."

She moved along the wall to a small end table and tried picking up and moving the vase of flowers that sat atop it.

"Tasha?" Data tried again.

"Any luck over there?" she asked.

She hadn't looked at him since they'd gotten into the room. In fact, it was evident she was avoiding him.

"Tasha, what is wrong?" Data inquired bluntly.

She turned back to him and could see he knew something was up.

However, he had looked so excited upon discovery of the passage that she couldn't bring herself to spoil his fun.

"Well Inspector, I can't seem to find how to make this secret passage work," she said with a casual shrug.

She was trying her best to not let on how horrified that thought actually made her feel.

Tasha looked around the room for something else to try. She stepped over to the bed and tried moving the painting next to it to no avail.

Data stood in the same spot, observing her.

Next, she moved on to the vanity. There had only been one item on it upon entering her quarters – it was an old-fashioned still photograph of Data dressed in his period appropriate attire. It had struck her as both odd and sweet that someone had managed to include such intricate holographic details.

She knew the picture wasn't the key to the passage. She had already picked it up when she first noticed it. However, she tried it again. She wanted to try anything to keep her mind from thinking about what was coming.

"Does the thought of one-way only passage make you uncomfortable?" Data inquired.

She stopped and set down the picture.

"Because you are concerned you will be the fictional victim," Data went on.

Damn, he's good! Tasha thought to herself. Inspector is an understatement.

And you are fearful that if you are to meet a fictional demise that you will be forced to stay alone. In essence, trapped," Data said.

"Yeah, Data," she admitted. "I am."

"I will end the game," Data said simply.

"Data, wait!" Tasha said as he made a beeline for the door.

He stopped in his tracks and turned around. Tasha walked over to him and took hold of his hands.

"Data, I don't want to ruin your party. I'm just a little uneasy about the thought of someone – even a hologram – coming in to fictionally axe me," she confessed.

She ran her hair back through her hair and walked over to the window.

"I want this to be perfect for you," she said. "I thought it was until this."

"Tasha, I will gladly end the programme if that is your wish," Data said.

She knew he meant it.

"No!" she insisted. "Look, I feel a lot better now that I told you. I'm still just a little creeped out."

"Surely, there must be a reason for this passage and it's one-way nature. Perhaps it will be a clue at a later point in time," Data suggested. "At this time there is insufficient evidence. Any theories right now would be mere speculation."

She nodded. He had a point.

"Hell, we don't even have the instructions yet," she said as she waved her hand. "This could all be for nothing."

"Precisely," Data agreed.

"Speaking of instructions, I was warned not to be late for dinner," Tasha said as she stepped back in front of the mirror.

Data sat down in the chair near the window, content to wait patiently while she finished readying herself for the evening.

"Warned by whom?" he asked as he studied the view noting there was a large glass pane door that led to a balcony outside.

"The butler," she reminded him. "Could you, uh?"

She turned indicated to the zipper on the back of her dress.

Tasha absolutely never wore things like the dress she'd found laid out for her. She was certain Deanna likely had some kind of secret for getting in and out of them, but for Tasha it was a foreign concept.

She took another look in the mirror. Tasha didn't typically wear jewellery. In her mind, it was dangerous for a lot of reasons – metal could be conductive - and consoles carried a lot of electrical current -necklaces were a choking hazard in her profession, and earrings could easily be ripped out.

However, as she took in her appearance in the mirror, she contemplated that perhaps she should have considered replicating something. She knew enough to realise this was the type of dress one typically wore earrings and necklace with.

"I must say this holographic programme is far more sophisticated than our own," Data said as he got up to help her.

There was something incredibly intuitive about the staff.

As if on cue, a card appeared on the vanity below them. It was the same material and embossing as the party invitations.

"That's odd," she said.

"That was not there a moment ago," Data said.

Tasha picked up the card and opened it.

'Top drawer' was all it said.

She slid open the top drawer and found a pair of teardrop earrings, corresponding necklace, and a simple bracelet.

The pieces were minimalist and perfect.

"Funny, I was just thinking about how I should have brought something along for this," Tasha said as she picked up the earrings.

"The computer is capable of replicating objects such as the adornments worn by humanoids," Data explained.

She slipped on the earrings and clasped the bracelet around her wrist.

"But I didn't ask the computer to do it. I just thought it," Tasha said, confused.

Data took the necklace from her and brought the latch together behind her neck.

She pulled it into the place and took one last look in the mirror.

"Regardless of its origin, the effect is visually satisfying," he said.

Tasha brought her hand to her chest.

"Inspector! Is that your way of saying you find me attractive?" she teased feigning surprise.

"That would be an understatement," he replied with a signature nod.

---

Ten minutes later, Data and Tasha made their way down to the formal dining room where they joined most of the other partygoers.

Deanna and Will were at one end with Beverly and Captain Picard. Guinan, Sonya, and Geordi were seated with Miles and Keiko. Wesley and Worf were having what appeared to be a one-sided conversation with Mrs Troi.

One of the holographic staff escorted Data to a seat at the end of the table near Captain Picard while another staff member showed Tasha to a chair next to Miles.

"Hey, Chief," she said as she slid into her seat.

"Blackjack Murphy," he winked.

Tasha nodded in understanding as one of the holographic waiters poured her a glass of wine.

She took a sip of the liquid and realised it was not synthehol.

"The real stuff," Miles whispered. "What I wouldn't give for a synth pint right now. No hangover, you know?"

"Where's Reg?" Geordi asked as he looked around and noticed Reg had yet to join them.

"You mean Duke Finley," Lwaxana corrected.

He may be her fictional son and she may have only known the skittish man for an hour, but he was still her fictional child and she'd be damned if she was going to let anyone mislabel him.

"Of course, the Duke," Geordi said politely.

A sudden thought seemed to hit everyone simultaneously.

Will and Captain Picard shared a knowing glance.

Wesley's eyes got wide.

"Could this be it?" Keiko asked excitedly.

"But has he disappeared or is he dead?" Beverly asked.

"Do you think we should split up and search the house?" Worf suggested.

The table erupted in discussion as everyone was eager to get down to business on the mystery investigation.

Data was fascinated as he simultaneously processed eight separate conversations.

The door at the ending of the dining hall creaked open and Reg Barclay nervously stepped in.

"I-I-uh, sorry," he said as he ran his hand back through his hair.

There was a collective groan of disappointment.

"There upset because they thought your absence was the start of the mystery, not because you're here, dear," Lwaxana assured him as she could read his thoughts.

Reg nodded, suddenly feeling a bit better and made his way over to the last open seat next to Tasha.

"Stepping out of character for a moment I want to say thank you. This means a lot to Data, Lieutenant. I can't thank you enough," Tasha smiled.

Reg shrugged uncomfortably.

"Glad to help. Starbase 515 did most of the work," Reg replied.

A moment later, Quincy swept into the room and the lights seemed to dim.

"Good evening honoured guests," he said dramatically. "For the next three days you are here to play a game. A game of intrigue and risk, danger and deception, rules and rewards. For nothing reveals humanity so well as the games it plays."

He clapped his gloved hands and the plates on the table were suddenly filled with food.

"You will find while you are here that all your needs will be seen to," Quincy explained. "And since you are incapable of following instruction let me make one thing clear – this will be much more fun for you if you remain in character. Great care was taken in assigning each of you your respective roles in this little drama."

"When does the game begin?" Data asked directly.

"Oh, but Inspector you should know, the game has already begun," Quincy replied with an eerily familiar smile.

"Some of you have already received clues that will reveal themselves in time. Despite your different backgrounds, you are all here for one reason – to solve the riddle of what happened to Lady Moran and the treasure that she took with her to her grave," Quincy explained. "It is the mystery of the moor, the whodunit of the who's who of society, a riddle waiting to be unravelled."

"Do we begin the investigation now?" Keiko inquired.

"Now it is time for introductions Miss Collins," Quincy said. "Five months ago, Lady Moran met her death taking with her the Moran treasure. The circumstances of her death remain a mystery."

Quincy walked around the table and stood behind Tasha and Reg.

"But that was then. Now, we're all here to celebrate the engagement of Duke Finley to Lady Moran. And you're probably asking yourselves why – I know I am," Quincy added as he swished Reg's napkin and laid it across his lap.

"Watch it buster, that's my boy," Lwaxana said in a warning tone.

Deanna bit back a smile. For once it felt nice to have her mother's domineering attention focused elsewhere.

"Duke Remington Finley. You're a man out of your element. Bumbling, awkward. You'd retreat from your aristocratic responsibilities if you could. You could not be more at odds with your adventurous finance, Lady Moran. Really darling you should learn the world isn't all an action novella. Let yourself enjoy the finer things in life. It's alright to dress up once and while," Quincy stated. "You know that is the one thing you both have in common. For you see, Miss Moran could care less about inheriting her father's estate. You'd rather travel the world with your best friend Professor La Roux."

Quincy pointed to Geordi.

"The famous Professor La Roux – navigator, explorer, inventor. Despite your renown, your adventures come with a high price tag and the Moran treasure would be enough to fund your exploits for a lifetime. Is there anything you can't do? Well, despite your confidence in an airplane, you're still afraid to get close to your charming escort Miss St James," Quincy went on.

He swept down the table and put his hands on Sonya's shoulders.

"She's a lot more than meets the eye," Quincy said. "Much like Blackjack over there, Miss St James knows the finer points of business and her way around the legal system."

Miles was beaming.

"And like Blackjack, you're both here in hopes of finding the treasure. You both would do anything to get your hands on it. That's quite some motive. Which begs the question, just what is a man like the notorious Blackjack Murphy doing in league with upstanding member of the landed gentry like Lord Moran?" Quincy pondered as he circled the group.

He stopped behind Captain Picard and leaned down to whisper next to his ear.

"For you do keep an eclectic crew," Quincy said. "From Hollywood to the Square Mile."

The Butler went on as he pointed from Doctor Crusher to Guinan.

"Madame Rosenbaum, we are honoured by your presence. Your unyielding support for Lord Moran is touching," Quincy said as he pointed to Guinan. "But you're already the wealthiest person here. It seems odd you would come in search of treasure – unless you have an ulterior motive."

Guinan eyed the butler carefully. There was something so unsettling and familiar about his mannerisms.

"Much like you, Miss Collins," Quincy said as he turned to Keiko. "As a wealthy heiress you hardly have reason to travel halfway across the globe for a wee mystery. Nor do you have any reason to attach yourself to Blackjack Murphy and yet you do."

"I like him," Keiko replied with a smile as she looped her arm through Miles's arm.

"Ah yes! Love. You humans are ripe with need for the emotion," Quincy said as he rolled his eyes.

He took three steps and stopped between Commander Riker and Counsellor Troi. The butler squat down next to the table and rested his head in his hands.

"I would kill to have the power that love does over you people. Take Colonel Wyatt – a man torn apart by two dark secrets," Quincy said as he pointed to Riker. "Unable to remarry because his happily-ever-after is with someone else."

He turned his gaze to Deanna.

"Contessa, Contessa," Quincy said as he patted the back of her hand. "You certainly pleased your mother with your marriage. Duty, honour, and all your other silly little aristocratic traditions aside, even you can't hide your unhappiness from your mother. You just hope that dear brother Remy doesn't make the same mistake."

Quincy rose and strolled down the table toward Worf. He patted him gingerly on the back.

"But not to worry, muscles here will keep your secret. He would die before betraying his friends. Isn't that right Major Hawke?" Quincy asked.

Worf was not amused.

"In fact, Colonel Roderick trusts you so much he's entrusted you with the key to Lady Moran's untimely demise," Quincy added.

A whisper went around the table at this.

"Not that you understand it yet," Quincy went on. "Don't fret. It's not you and your thick skull. The clue will reveal itself to you at the appropriate moment."

He tapped Worf on the forehead and Worf held back a sharp remark.

Quincy then knelt down next to Wesley.

"Even boy wonder here won't be able to solve this one on his own," Quincy said with a wink. "You may be a clever young man, but it's going to take all of you working together to figure this out. Even though young Mr Roderick here is more than ready to play ball."

Quincy snapped his fingers and the cricket ball Wesley had been sent with his initial invitation appeared in his gloved hand. He handed to it Wesley who grinned.

"Which brings us back to you, Lord Moran. For you see, you've brought all of these people together," Quincy explained. "First, through the mysterious death of your wife and then through your daughter's misfortunate engagement."

Quincy reached around and adjusted Captain Picard's bowtie.

"It begs the question as to why you're so desperate to marry her off. There's no denying Duke Finley isn't exactly what you had in mind for her," Quincy indicated down the table to Reg who was using an empty plate as mirror to pick a piece of rocket out of his teeth.

Tasha cleared her throat and Reg stopped as he realised all eyes were on him.

He put down the plate, blushing furiously.

"I've had just about enough of your cheek," Lwaxana declared angrily. "I think there's a lot more to Duke Finley that you give him credit for."

Lwaxana raised her glass to Reg and the shot a look down to Quincy.

"You're right," Quincy said.

Strangely, he did not leave his place behind Captain Picard.

"I adore your spirited nature madame, but I know Lord Moran finds it to be tiresome," Quincy sighed. "Perhaps that's the real motivation for this little arranged marriage. He'd rather see his daughter unhappily wed to Duke dull and dreary than be forced to marry you."

Captain Picard choked on his wine. He looked scandalised by the revelation of his character's backstory.

"There, there mon seigneur," Quincy said as he dabbed the corner of Captain Picard's mouth with a napkin.

Tasha and Worf exchanged a glance, trying to hide their smirks. They could tell the Captain was highly displeased with the attentive butler's actions.

"You see, since Lady Moran took the treasure to her grave the Moran estate has been flat broke. The coffers are empty, I'm afraid. And Lord Moran has no choice but the forfeit the estate or marry into the neighbouring estate of Duke Finley," Quincy said markedly.

Quincy refilled the Captain's wine glass and then walked over to set the bottle back on a tray near the window.

"You left that little part out of your discussion with your daughter, didn't you?" Quincy said as he leaned back against the window frame.

He crossed his arms and turned his gaze to Doctor Crusher.

"It also makes one wonder why you can't account for your whereabouts on the night of your wife's death. Because rumour has it you do have an alibi and I must say she is quite enchanting," Quincy smiled.

Suddenly, he put his hand over his mouth as if he had let something slip.

"Oops," he said simply. "Cats out of the bag on that one, my Lord. Though it does beg one to wonder why you would keep it a secret. If I had been in the bed of Miss Marlowe Mansfield I'd run out and tell the papers straightaway."

Wesley looked down, abruptly feeling uncomfortable. He was a precocious kid and held no delusions about his mother. She was an adult, and he didn't have a problem with her seeing people. In fact, he really hoped she would find someone to make her happy.

But there was something a little too familiar and unsettling about the idea of it being Captain Picard, even if it was just pretend for the sake of the holodeck programme.

"But Miss Marlowe is certainly not above reproach. She's got her own dark secret, don't you darling? And I must say it's juicier than the kind of thing you'll read in the Hollywood tabloids," Quincy grinned. "Have you told Lord Moran you're carrying his child, yet?"

Reg gasped loudly from the other end of the table, completely engrossed in the story.

"Doctor!" he said in shock.

"Need I remind you this is a game?" Beverly said shortly, slightly annoyed.

"A game indeed," Quincy said as he stepped away from the window.

He strolled around the table and came to stop behind Data.

"One that we can only hope is a match for Inspector Fury," Quincy said.

He tapped Data playfully on the nose.

"But I warn you, Inspector. This game is one the likes of which you have never encountered," Quincy said. "You're the smartest man in any room you venture into. If you were ever to apply your considerable mind to it, you could be the greatest criminal mastermind in the world."

Data's eyes narrowed as he considered the meaning of the butler's words. He thought back to his character card and the note about his rival – the criminal mastermind Professor Mith.

"I can see the wheels in your mind are already spinning," Quincy teased. "You're wondering what Professor Mith has to do with all of this."

"Professor Mith?" Captain Picard questioned.

"My nemesis. An adept thief and master criminal," Data advised.

"You've never been able to figure out why he's so fixated on you. Why he takes such risks to expose himself to you. The truth is, Professor Mith enjoys the game," Quincy advised. "Remember that as you work this case. He's here for the entertainment, not necessarily the treasure."

Data cocked his head to the side as contemplated this revelation.

"Let's hope it's not another Moriarty," Data said aloud to Geordi as he recalled their encounter with the sentient holographic villain.

That had been a truly dangerous situation. Although the holographic Moriarty had sought nothing more than the right to exist, he could have harmed the entirety of crew. It had been a true, equal rival to Data unlike anything he had ever encountered.

Well, anything but Lore. He thought, disturbed by the idea of his brother.

Quincy clapped his hands and the holographic waiters raced around the table flawlessly to refill the wine glasses and carry away the plates.

"How do you know all of this? How do we know you aren't the one responsible for the late Lady Moran's untimely demise?" Guinan questioned.

"Because I'm omnipotent," Quincy replied casually.

"But how?" Geordi asked.

"I'm the butler," Quincy said with an air of finality as if his comment was sufficient to end the questions.

"You know what they always say, the butler did it," Keiko teased.

"Well, in this case that's not what I do," Quincy replied, offended by the idea.

"Then what do you do here? What is your function?" Data inquired.

"I buttle," Quincy huffed before straightening his jacket.

Despite her earlier misgivings, Tasha was feeling a lot more at ease. This was fun and it seemed everyone had embraced their role in the mystery with enthusiasm.

"Now, it is time to retire to the drawing room for after dinner drinks and parlour games," Quincy advised.

"I wonder if this is where it starts?" Wesley thought aloud.

Quincy sighed dramatically.

"As I have previously explained, events are already in motion," Quincy said in an irritated voice.

The group was shuffled into the neighbouring parlour where drinks, antique chess, and other amusement awaited them.

Commander Riker began thinking about how it would nice if he'd brought his trombone to liven up the place when a trombone suddenly appeared.

"I was just thinking about this," he said with astonishment as he picked it up.

"That same thing happened to me," Deanna exclaimed. "I was thinking about how much nicer this dress would look with gloves and they appeared.

"You know this whole place is so intuitive. It's like when encountered the holodeck upgrades with the Bynars. It knows what we want," Picard explained. "Data, I've been meaning to ask. Did you arrange for the wine?"

"The wine, sir?" Data inquired.

He then recounted for the group how Quincy had show up at his door before dinner with three fantastic bottles of real, antique wine and asked him to make the selection for dinner.

"I assure you, Captain. I am not responsible for the wine," Data informed him.

"Extraordinary," Picard exclaimed.

"What is extraordinary is your inability to stay in character," Quincy reminded them.

The crew nodded. They were all so taken aback by the size and scope of this holodeck they were having a hard time focusing on the mystery.

They spent an hour in the drawing room as they got to know one another in character and share information about their roles. Keiko had brought along an old-fashioned pen and pad to keep track of anything noteworthy toward solving the case.

"That is most ingenious, Miss Collins," Data said.

"We can't all have your super computing brain, Inspector. Happy birthday," she said with a grin as she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"I am very pleased you and Blackjack have come," Data replied.

Across the room, Tasha and Captain Picard were sharing a dram.

"So, you decided you'd rather send me off with tall, dull, and Barclay instead of getting remarried yourself huh, sir?" Tasha asked wryly.

Captain Picard leaned in close.

"I'm supposed to be your father not your Captain. Typically, we call our fathers dad or father," Captain Picard advised.

"Right…. father," Tasha said.

It was strange. Captain Picard had no children and was unused to the term. He knew it had to be odd for her too, never having known her parents.

"Oh Lord Moran!" Lwaxana called as she guided Reg over to the Captain.

"I'm going to check on the Inspector," Tasha said quickly.

Before she could take a step, Captain Picard grabbed her arm.

"Oh no you don't," he whispered hurriedly. "You are not leaving me here alone. No man left behind."

He looked at her pleadingly and Tasha gave him a small grin.

"Aye, sir," she winked.

Everyone seemed to be having a good time, but there was anxious air hanging about the festivities. They still weren't sure where to begin with the mystery and Quincy had explained they were not permitted to poke around the house and grounds yet.

They were waiting for something – anything – to happen to spark the investigation.

Miles pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time.

Guinan noticed it was the second time he had looked at the timepiece.

It was nearly 23:00 and they still hadn't seen hide nor tail of any kind of triggering event.

Tasha managed to slip away from Lwaxana when Deanna came over to rescue them.

Data was across the room with Geordi and Sonya. He noticed her slip away and made his excuses to Geordi to join her.

"Ensign Gomez is very nervous around the Captain, but she appears to be relaxing," Data said.

"I would be too," Tasha said. "She's probably pretty uncomfortable here."

Data nodded.

"And are you feeling more comfortable, Miss Moran?" Data asked in reference to their earlier conversation.

"Don't you think it's strange that nothing's happened yet?" Tasha asked.

"The thought had occurred to me," Data admitted.

They weren't alone in that thought. There was a tension building in the drawing room with each passing minute. They had been in the house for over seven hours. Despite the butler Quincy's insistence that the game had already begun, they were collectively feeling keyed up.

"It's like waiting for a storm to hit. You can see it in the distance and all you can do is watch it roll in on its own time," Tasha remarked.

The great grandfather clock that stood in the main hall chimed to alert them to the time.

All of a sudden, Quincy clapped his hands and everyone stopped what they were doing and waited with bated breath for something to happen.

He scanned the room from left to right before speaking as if to build the suspense.

"Time to retire to your beds," he said flatly.

They all eyed each other with slight hesitation as they said their goodnights and headed off to their respective guest quarters.

The fact that no special event had happened yet had everyone on edge. There was sense of trepidation about going to sleep in this big, spooky old house while awaiting for the unknown mysterious event to happen.

"And all arrangements have been made for the hunting party in the morning, my Lord," Quincy announced.

"H-h-hunting party?" Reg said, swallowing hard.

"Yes, Duke Finley," Quincy replied. "5:00 a.m. comes early so sleep tight."

---

Upstairs, they all headed off to their respective rooms for the evening. Geordi bid Data and Tasha goodnight, leaving them outside of Tasha's door.

"Do you think instead of sleeping here I could stay with you?" Tasha asked.

Data said nothing but took hold of her hand and guided her up the spiral stairs to his guest room.

Once inside, she pulled the earrings off and rubbed her earlobes. She remembered why she didn't wear earrings often.

Data took her arm and unclasped the bracelet from her wrist before turning her around to take off the necklace.

She scrunched up her face and hit her forehead with her palm.

"I forgot my overnight bag," she said in frustration.

"I will get it," he said.

He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before he slipped out of the room and back down the staircase to the floor below.

---

On the other side of the house, Jean-Luc Picard was about to put on a pair of fine pyjamas that were laid out for him when he heard a shriek across the corridor. He threw down the garment and raced out into the darkened corridor to the room where it had come from.

He flung open the door to find Mrs Troi upset.

She was breathing heavily and fanning herself as she paced back and forth. She looked as if she were about to cry.

"Are you alright, Mrs Troi?" he asked.

Despite his annoyance with her, he was concerned about her welfare.

"No!" she replied as she put her hands on her hips. "Oh, Jean-Luc it's horrible!"

---

At the north end of the manor, Deanna had agreed to accompany Will back to his quarters for a nightcap.

"But only one drink," Deanna had said sternly.

It was so rare that they got time together away from their responsibilities on the Enterprise. Even with the tension of the looming mystery and warning of the early-morning hunt, they were willing to take advantage of the chance to slip away on their own.

He showed her into his quarters. It was a comfy room with a roaring fire and overstuffed furniture in deep burgundy and warm brown. He opened a bottle of champagne he'd kept on ice and handed a glass to Deanna.

"You look lovely, Deanna," he said.

"Well, it's all thanks to Data's birthday. I mean this place truly is something else," she said. "Maybe we should consider coming back in the future. Just the two of us, next time."

"To Data," Will offered as they toasted their good fortune of discovering Starbase 515's magnificent holodeck.

"Attention all guests, it is now 23:18 and you should all be in bed if you know what's good for you. Don't say you weren't warned," Quincy's voice said as it carried through the house. "All bedroom doors have now been sealed. You have been locked in for your protection. Goodnight and pleasant dreams."

There was a familiar, mischievous laugh.

Deanna and Will shared a look.

"Perhaps, this doesn't have to be so bad?" Will suggested as he pulled Deanna closer.

He was inches from her lips when suddenly an unwelcome voice brought their romantic evening to grinding halt.

"Hi Commander!" Wesley said suddenly appearing behind a wooden panel.

Deanna laughed silently.

"It's a hidden door!" Wesley said brightly as he opened the panel and stepped into their room.

---

"No, no, no!" Picard cried as he ran over to the door and desperately tried the handle.

He was not going to spend the night locked in a room with Lwaxana Troi. He was here to have fun and enjoy himself. Right now, this was the opposite of fun.

"Mrs Troi, please!" Jean-Luc said harshly.

He whipped around at the sound of her frustration to find the source of her ongoing distress.

"It's no use, Jean-Luc. I can't bear it!" she said.

He buried his hand in his face.

"My dressing gown and night attire are gone," she said as she flopped down on the bed with an exasperated sigh.

"Oh, is that all?" Jean-Luc replied with mock sympathy.

"They happen to be Orion silk and are a one-of-kind designed for optimal sleep comfort," Lwaxana explained.

Picard turned back to the door and tried it again.

"Didn't you hear the man? We're locked in," Lwaxana said.

Captain Picard hit his palm against the door before turning back to her.

"I'm sorry, I was having a difficult time hearing anything over your incessant wailing," he replied stiffly. "I thought something had actually happened."

"ORION SILK!" Lwaxana said slowly as if he were incapable of comprehending the seriousness of her predicament.

---

Next door, Reg Barclay had heard the scream from Mrs Troi's room. He had been tucked into his bed, just like the butler had instructed, trying desperately to push thoughts of being locked alone in a dark room in this large, old house on his own far from his mind.

The downpour outside wasn't helping his anxiety. Every rustle of wind and flash of lightening sent a chill down his spine.

"They don't get thunderstorms like this!" Reg said aloud, talking to himself to try and calm down.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to pretend he was back aboard the Enterprise in a familiar, tranquil holodeck programme.

You're already in a holodeck programme. Reg reminded himself.

He groaned and pulled his pillow over his face as he tried to silence the storm.

---

Over in the east tower Data had only just located Tasha's signature Parrises Squares bag and was on his way back out the door when it had sealed, locking him into her quarters. In light of his android strength, he found he was unable to open the door. Normally, he would be capable of ripping apart the duranium hull of a Federation starship if necessary.

However, there was something preventing him from doing so. He surmised it had to be by design, likely a part of the programme.

He set to work finding an alternative method of exiting the room.

---

One floor up, realisation was starting to hit Tasha that Data was either trapped in her room or in the corridor.

She was going to have to face the first night in this spooky holodeck alone.

At the very least, it wasn't in her room.

A dark thought entered the back of her mind as she considered that her quarters were sealed and there was that secret passage Wesley had discovered that only worked one-way.

Tasha felt bad for Data and hoped that he'd be alright.

She shook her head. Of course he would be alright, this was just a holodeck programme after all and he was a sentient android that was more than capable of taking care of himself.

Tasha chided herself. She loved reading horror novellas and scary stories on her PADD on the Enterprise.

But now that she was actually living the experience, the reality didn't have same the thrill. There was something genuinely frightening about being inside the story that unsettled her.

Resolving that she had best get some sleep before tomorrow she opened the wardrobe to see if there was anything she could slip into.

She wanted to get out of her dinner dress. It had been fun while it had lasted – but it was certainly not something that would be comfortable to sleep in.

There was little to choose from, but she found a button-up shirt that would work.

She reached back with her left hand but was unable to find the zipper. She tried a second time with her right hand, but her fingers fumbled to find the slider. She growled in frustration and made a third attempt from another angle, this time reaching her arm up and over.

Once again, she was unsuccessful.

The garment was too tight to pull over her head and there was no room to wiggle her head out of the neck.

She was stuck.

Despite being athletic, Tasha was not flexible. It was something Worf had pushed her to work on since they'd started working out together. Now she was regretting her refusal to take him as seriously as she should have.

Tasha threw her hands up in the air in frustration and tried to devise a way to get the dress off.

She refused to resign herself to an uncomfortable night's sleep. She reminded herself that this was technically just holographic material that had been replicated for the programme. She rummaged through the writing desk until her hands found a letter opener.

She was about to cut herself out of the dress when she was struck by an idea.

Striding back over to the wardrobe, she grabbed a wire hanger off the rack. After several unsuccessful attempts she managed to loop the top of the hanger through the hole on the slider and guide it down to a point where her fingers could reach.

Riding the high of her success she threw the dress over her head and onto the armchair and slipped into the oversized shirt.

It was baggy, but a big step in the direction of comfort over the restrictive dress. She rolled up the sleeves and fell back onto the bed.

From the moment her head hit the pillow, she felt the weight of her eyelids. The fire was starting to go down but there was a soft glow from the fireplace that put her at ease.

She was just about to drift off when she noticed a figure in the corner of the room.

Tasha sat up abruptly as a familiar figure stepped out of the shadows.

"You gave me a start," she said with a small smile.

He cocked his head to side.

"I apologise. I did not mean to," he replied.

"How do you get in here. I thought the doors were all sealed?" she asked as she sat back against the headboard and pulled her legs up, resting her chin on her knees.

"I managed to slip in before that occurrence," he said as he stepped closer.

"Then you were in here the whole time I was struggling with that absurd dress? Why didn't you help me, you lunkhead?" Tasha laughed as she threw a pillow at him.

He caught the pillow with one hand but didn't take his eyes away from her.

"I found it amusing," he confessed as he let the pillow drop to the floor.

"Do you have my bag?" Tasha asked.

He tilted his head further to side and gave her a look that indicated he didn't understand the question.

"My bag, Data. The bag you went downstairs to get?" Tasha prompted.

He didn't respond, instead he surveyed the room.

"Data?" she asked as she stood up, concerned by his sudden change in behaviour.

"Call me Professor Mith," he replied turning back to her grinning as the firelight danced off his yellow eyes.