The Seven Year Itch



This story is completely tongue-in-cheek, please take it as such. All fanfic references have been taken from my own fiction, and my own attempts at smut. All references to STTNG......well we all know who they belong to, and I'm sure they've noticed their little Boo-boos as well. s/j



Will Riker turned in his bed for the umpteenth time, and mumbled a curse under his breath.

"Shit on this," he whispered, kicking the blanket away that tangled around his feet, and sitting up, resting his feet on the floor.

Without standing up, he reached for his uniform that was draped across the bottom of the bed and slapped the communicator with an irritated hand.


He rolled his eyes.

"Computer?" he called, looking upward as if he was talking to God.

An instantaneous hum sounded above him, but the female voice of the computer never responded.

His frustration intensified. Relying on old fashioned forms of communication he stood up slowly, deciding to locate Deanna Troi himself. After seven years onboard the Enterprise-D he'd be damned if they were going to cancel the show without him getting a shot at intimacy with his Imzadi.

"That's what you think." he sneered, shaking a fist at an invisible advisory.

He screwed up his face at his uniform, and went to his closet, picking out the clothes he chose to wear.....Loose fitting black pants, and a light blue shirt.

He nodded, satisfied, after all he always wore light blue shirts in fanfiction.

Tugging on the clothes, he shuffled into the living room, questioning if maybe his priorities might be a bit screwed up. After all the ships computer was down.

"Hell," He waved his hand in a dramatic gesture, dismissing his concern, "she's probably off looking for a husband, or convincing her daughter NOT to get involved with me."

He grimaced slightly, that thought appealing to him less then a static warp bubble, a Borg takeover, or a flesh eating virus. OOPS, wrong show, but one he was certain would somehow finagle an eighth season.

The chimes to his quarters sounded, he called to them and waited.


Nothing, was fastly becoming what his life consisted of.

Shit, he was still first officer of the Enterprise, how realistic was that? Probably why his continuing weekly mission had been called in lieu of movies......Not as much chance for people to do the shrug and shake at what a pussy he'd been, living under a bald man's glaring head.


It was Deanna's voice on the other side of the door, followed by the sound of her hand pounding against the metal.

"I said come in Deanna......Geeze."

He took a few steps and attempted to access the door.

"It won't open Will!"

He considered it for a minute, the possibilities; the thingamajig could be acting up, the whozee-whats-it could be off-line, or maybe Geordi was running a level three diagnostic on all key systems.

<Not likely,> he thought, it was more likely Geordi was on the holodeck playing with his fantasies of Leia Brahm. Poor Geordi, he'd had it a lot rougher then he had over the years.


He snapped out of his thoughts, and placed his face only a fraction of an inch from the doors, realizing the problem.

"Deanna, can you hear me?!"


"Tell the stage hands to pull on the broom sticks on the outside, that should open em!"

He stepped back, and in an instant she was silhouetted in the doorway.

How the hell she was silhouetted in the harsh light of the ship was beyond him, but she was. And not surprisingly she wore a rich burgundy dress, accentuating curves and lines he'd been unaware she had. But then this was another fanfic, and her skin was always milky silk, her breast were always perfectly rounded, and her hair.

"Shit Deanna, what happened to your hair?"

"They took it, said it was only leased for seven years." She puffed up the lighter colored, much finer hair that hung over her shoulders and smiled, obviously pleased with the lack of weight on her tiny body.

"You still look beautiful Imzadi."

His voice was rich and smooth and stroked like velvet over her senses. She wondered how he made it sound like that on cue......Be nice to be able to call up a bedroom voice whenever you pleased.

"I couldn't sleep," she admitted, walking with a sultry gate to the couch and settling down on it.....amazed she'd been able to accomplish the simple act, since even breathing in this dress was difficult.

"Neither could I." he said, sitting beside her, cradling her cheek in his strong hand.

She eyed him momentarily, his azure gaze drifting over her face, his breath warm and minty whispering against her skin.

"I'm not certain what your complaint is........You've been bedding every woman onboard for seven years, if I'm lucky, I got it five times."

"You had Tom, and not that long ago."

"Tom was good, but he didn't do that thing that you do.....ya know with your tongue."

"Why not, he's me, we learned it together in a manner of speaking."

"Maybe he forgot, eight years is a long time."

"You had lots of men Deanna......What about that masterpiece guy....he was suppose to be perfect."

"Not quite."

Riker shifted.

"I didn't have it all that great either, consider I had an asexual being........"

"But you loved her, didn't you?"

"Yea, yea I did, but it was too complicated."


"Complicated," he confirmed with a sharp nod of his head, "Let's just say just because certain J'nai are born with the feeling and instincts of either male or female, it didn't necessarily mean their anatomies went along with it."

"Oh," she answered, her mouth falling open for a second, "I never considered that."

"I don't think anyone has Deanna.....But anyway back to my women.... some farm woman, a hologram, a woman who only used me to control the Enterprise........And I didn't get the Metamorph ......I would have liked to have had the metamorph."

He caught how her eyes darkened, jealousy he presumed, and he liked it.

"But I only wanted you Deanna." he whispered, chasing away her look of hurt with only a few simple words.......But then he knew he would, it was the natural course of things for a charming first officer......A cause and effect that never failed him.

He pressed back on the couch, his mind drifting again, another thing he'd never figured out over the years....Cause and effect. If the Enterprise was trapped in a causality loop because it continued to crash into Frasier Crane's ship for weeks, what the hell was the other ship crashing into that had kept them there for years.

<Another mystery,> he thought.

"I want you Will." Her legs shifted underneath her, bringing her to her knees in front of him. He found himself consumed by the talent it must have taken for her to retain sexy and still fight the confines of her dress.

Her hands raised to his chest, a rough jerk sending his buttons flying, under the table, down in the couch, behind the couch for that matter.

His eyes widened, "What the hell are you doing?!"

"Taking you.....You like it when you lose control, relinquish yourself, it turns you on. You'll fight me, but I'll win."

"Really?" he answered, wondering what fiction she'd been reading, and wondering how he'd missed it, but more importantly wondering how he was expected to rid her of a dress with no visible fasteners.

He raised a hand to the single strap that covered her right shoulder and attempted to push it down.....it didn't budge.

"Is this sprayed on?"

Her sultry hot expression shifted. Her nose wrinkled, "It's bloody hell if you have to go to the bathroom."

<Bloody hell?> That was a new expression for her, and the accent sounded a bit off as well.

He let it slide.

"Or want to have sex." he amended, motioning only with his eyes that he wanted the dress off.

She obeyed, he knew she would, this was the fiction he'd been reading.

He enjoyed watching her strip off the dress, revealing only black silk panties, her breast unencumbered springing free, swaying hypnotically in front of him.

"Your breath didn't catch."

He heard her voice, saw her indignant stance, but it was a chore to pull his gaze away from the mounds of ivory flesh in front of him.


"Your breath didn't catch, you should be panting just looking at me."

He wondered if she'd stomp her feet.

"I'm panting inwardly Deanna."

" And you should be feeling me as well!"

"Sure," he answered with relief, "Come here and I'll feel you."

"Not like that....In your mind......I know what you're thinking and you know what I'm thinking."

"I hope I know what you're thinking......I'm going to be very disappointed if I don't."

"Can't you hear me in your mind?"

He considered it.

OK, he was screwed, or maybe his hormones were blocking his telepathy ......He tried to focus, pull his thoughts from his head to his head. But it wasn't working, he manned a counterattack.

"If you're so in-tune .....why didn't you know I was alive on Alpha Onias, or for that matter when you had command of the bridge......You told me you played it by ear."

"The stress blocked my perception of you," she said, somewhat defensively.

"I think you could say that about me now......And honestly if you knew what I was thinking right now....I know you Deanna Troi, you'd be blushing." His lips thinned into a victorious smirk.

"Don't gloat Riker," she snapped, "I've been with you, and every alternate timeline you from here to the Gamma quadrant......I know what you want, I know what you need......"

She broke off and fell against him, pushing him back and down with an animalistic passion.

Her tongue explored his mouth, her hands danced with rough, perfectly timed strokes that shook through him.

He groaned.

She sat up, satisfied, against his throbbing erection.

She lifted off him, pealing her panties off, and watching his rock hard member strain against his pants.

"Why are they still there?" she said in disgust, "they should have been shed long ago....I don't know how, but they're never in the way."

Riker raised his brows, still breathing heavily, but understanding her confusion.

"Maybe stripping us both is too redundant for a writer," he said, alleviating his pain by tugging his own pants off, "Now what?"

"I'm not sure, guess it depends on the rating."

Riker closed his eyes and prayed to any God that would listen for NC-17. His heart fell instantly when Deanna dropped to her knees beside the couch and captured his mouth with hers.

She tasted sweet like honey of course, but the aroma of her arousal also drifted to his nose......he closed his eyes and thanked the deities as her hand sought out his erection and wrapped it in her hand.

<NC-17......YES!> he thought, moving against her hand, his own hands wondering freely, relived of the rating.

It had been a thousand years since she'd touched him like this, his resolve was going to fade if he allowed her lips to follow the path she'd set for them.

With a burst of energy he rolled off the couch, trapping her beneath him, ministering the same torturous strokes to her as she had to him. Her body trembled, gave way to an orgasm he couldn't believe she'd reached with only a few strokes of his hand.

"How the hell did you do that?"

"I was ready."

<Ah-huh> he thought, wondering where he'd gone wrong with the other hundred and fifty women he'd been with.

"I want you inside me Will." she panted, opening herself to him, encouraging him with an arch of her hips.

He obliged willingly, sliding inside her, stopping with her gasp, hoping he hadn't hurt her.....Just as he was expected to do, after all he was so big, and she was so small.

She only encouraged him further with words and her legs and arms pulling him deeply into her. Thankfully she knew what she was expected to do as well.

And then she was everywhere, in his mind, combined with his essence, one with the woman he'd loved since time began it seemed.

Knowing the female anatomy and the chances of her coming with only his deep and powerful thrusts, he was shocked when he felt her, her walls constricting around him, pulling him deeper, massaging his cock, forcing him over the edge.

His body shuddered, his heated bursts of ecstasy, his pulsing desire....whatever the hell it was shot into her until he fell spent and sated on top of her.

"Imzadi." His word was breathless, and spoken by a man who hadn't uttered it under these circumstances for long.

Her body seemed to weaken under the sound of his voice and what he knew to be the rich, smoky gaze of his indigo eyes.

"I love you Will," she sighed, holding on to their intimate connection for a moment longer, squeezing her muscles, holding on to the forbidden as long as she could.

"I love you too." he said, brushing the damp strands of hair from her cheek as he withdrew from her, "I just wish I understood what in hell we did that afforded us this."

She understood, and lowered her eyes, wondering if someday, something would happen that would give their relationship the life it deserved.

"I've been thinkin," he said, running his fingers in a circular pattern over her shoulder, "General Hospital has been on for over thirty years.....Ya think it's cuz Luke and Laura got to do it?"

"Maybe," she answered, snuggling against him, relishing this intimacy, one they they may never be allowed to feel again, "We just have to remember we still have a mission, and who knows, a new writer and anything can happen."

Brushing a kiss against her hair, he considered her optimism.

"I think you may be right Deanna," he finally admitted, drawing her closer, "A new writer, and a NEW director who'll fight to keep our scenes off the cutting room floor."

Riker closed his eyes, new possibilities playing through his mind..................

I like to dream yes, yes, right between my sound machine

On a cloud of sound I drift in the night

Any place it goes is right

Goes far, flies near, to the stars away from here


Well, you don't know what we can find

Why don't you come with me little girl

On a magic carpet ride

You don't know what we can see

Why don't you tell your dreams to me

Fantasy will set you free

Close your eyes girl

Look inside girl

Let the sound take you away


Last night I held Aladdin's lamp

And so I wished that I could stay

Before the thing could answer me

Well, someone came and took the lamp away

I looked around, a lousy candle's all I found


Well, you don't know what we can find

Why don't you come with me little girl

On a magic carpet ride

Well, you don't know what we can see

Why don't you tell your dreams to me

Fantasy will set you free

Close your eyes girl

Look inside girl

Let the sound take you away





From the 1968 release "The Second"


Words and music by John Kay and Rushton Moreve


Copyright John Kay & Steppenwolf. All rights reserved.