“Who is that Guy?”
Setting first season, Riker doesn’t have his beard
yet.
Everyone on board is just getting to know each other.
Young Will Riker’s thoughts.
Riker stepped through the archway of Ten-Forward at a
steady gate; he headed straight for the bar. He needed
a drink. He wanted a drink. He deserved a drink. After
being gone for two days, it was good to be back on the
Enterprise, to be around friends, and familiar faces.
He missed Deanna, and he wanted to get a drink and
then ask the computer her whereabouts and spend some
time with her. He had spent the last hour in a
briefing with the Captain. He hadn’t actually made it
to the bridge yet; she was probably on the bridge he
thought to himself.
With his back up against the bar, he nodded towards
the bartender making his presence known, with the
other arm he raised it in the air, motioning for a
drink. He glanced across the room; people were sitting
in their usual little groups around their designated
tables. There were couples out on the dance floor,
apparently oblivious to anyone around, as they swayed
to the soft romantic music that played in the
background.
“Well, hello Commander.” He heard a distant voice, and
it was coming towards him. The first thing that caught
his eye was the beehive hairdo that he swore looked
like it could of been at least a foot tall. “Oh,
great.” He thought, as he corrected his posture
awaiting her arrival. It was Carmen; she was indeed
the ship’s cuckoo nut. They had picked her up on a
planet, and they wished they hadn’t, she was a weirdo.
A big drunken space case.
Deanna had been counseling her, but to no avail.
Deanna had made the suggestion that she be
hospitalized, in order to receive more extensive
treatment. Everyone on board was relieved that she
would be leaving in the next few days. It had been
proven that she wasn’t a threat to the ship or to
anyone on board. What she had proven herself to be was
a bother, which found her new home in Ten Forward.
He noticed that she had a stemmed glass of what
appeared to be champagne in her hand. The liquid
sloshed in the glass, with each intoxicated step she
took towards him. Setting her drink down on the bar,
she firmly grabbed his arm.
“Welcome back, handsome. You owe me a dance.” She
urged, as she tugged on his arm. This woman was
petite, a little over five feet tall, slim, with small
features to her face. Her tall yellow beehive hairdo
was, as he thought, even with his height.
“I’m sorry, Carmen.” He politely stated, “I’ve just
arrived, and I need at least three more drinks in me
before I have enough courage to step onto that dance
floor.” He lied. Using his most gentlemanly,
convincing tone of voice he could muster. He
gracefully tried to release his arm from her grip.
“Well…” she smiled, looking up at him. Her yellow
beehive hairdo, tilted backwards with the movement of
her head. “When you have those three drinks.” She
giggled. He hated her high pitch giggle. It was
annoying. “Tell Me.” she instructed, slowly releasing
her grip from his arm.
Her eyes concentrated on him, she was staring at the
cleft that was in his chin, “I like your chin dimple.”
She purred.
“Grow a beard.” The thought instantly entered his
mind. Instead of saying anything, he simply smiled
down at her. Her eyes never removed themselves from
his face as her arm blindly grabbed for her drink on
the bar. Not having any accuracy or coordination in
her aim she hit the champagne glass with her hand, its
contents spilling all over the bar. “Damn it.” She
complained after realizing what she had done. Riker
suddenly moved, in order to escape the wet beverage,
moving to the other side of the yellow beehive.
She took a step away from him, “Never mind that…” she
whispered, with a wave of her uncoordinated wrist. She
glanced towards the spilled drink, attempting to
excuse herself for her clumsiness.
“That happens.” He politely stated, looking around he
now had a new view of the room.
In a drunken attempt she began to walk backwards,
heading towards the middle of the room. “I’ll be back
for that dance.” Her intoxicated finger motioned a
pointed warning. “And don’t skip out on me, again.”
“You know where to find me.” She practically yelled,
as she whirled around and staggered towards other
parts of the room.
“Yeah, I’ll do that.” he said to himself, through his
smile. Knowing he had no intention of dancing or even
getting involved with this drunken crazed beehive.
Turning back around towards the bar, he politely
thanked the bartender as he placed the drink in front
of him.
“She’s pretty drunk again.” The bartender stated as he
began to wipe up the woman’s spilled drink. “She’ll
leave and go to her quarters soon.”
“Yeah, that’s where she belongs.” Riker softly
replied, not really looking at the bartender. He held
the drink, moving it in a circular motion with his
hand. He concentrated on the ice as it swirled around
in the glass momentarily before taking a sip. Setting
his drink down on the bar, he twisted his body around
and leaned on his elbow, he scanned the room with his
eyes.
He noticed Deanna, sitting with a guy. His scanning
suddenly stopped. They were sitting at a table at the
far wall. It was evident that they were enjoying each
other’s company. In fact, they were enjoying each
other’s company immensely. He watched them, as they
laughed, and talked. She would occasionally reach out
and put her hand on top of his; displaying a
seriousness to the conversation, or a compassion to
what he was saying to her. Frequently she would swat
him on the nearest knee and giggle. He, in return
would touch her leg, or put his hand on her knee. She
had her uniform on, that damn short uniform dress.
Riker loved that short little dress. But he never
realized the fact that anyone else could like it as
much as he did.
“Who is that guy?” Riker thought to himself. He
appeared to be tall, and rugged looking, his black
eyes and hair clearly proving the fact that he was
from Betazed. He appeared to be very well kept. His
hair was perfect.
“Who is that guy?” Riker thought. “Does he wake up
every morning looking like that? And just what in the
hell is keeping his hair in place? Did Data mix up
some formula to keep it totally perfect like that?
He took a sip of his drink.
‘Who is that guy?’ Riker wondered to himself. How
does Deanna know him? She and this man had to meet one
another after he left Betazed, two years ago. He sure
as hell never saw him before, he would have
remembered, especially if it was a male friend of
Deanna’s. How come Deanna never mentioned him before?
Maybe she didn’t mention him because he didn’t ask,
but then how in the hell could he ask? Why in the hell
would she mention someone to him? Most of the time, he
had shrugged Deanna off, and avoided her. He had made
a lame effort at attempting to hide his feelings from
her. Riker you’re making a lame effort right now at
attempting to hide this damn jealousy too.
He took another drink.
“Who is that guy?” he thought. Did he dare go over
there? Did he dare tell this jerk with the perfect
white teeth, that he was in love with her? Who in the
hell has teeth that perfect?
“Who is that guy? Where in the hell did he come from?”
he thought. He wanted to go over there and grab him by
the seventeen and a half-inch neck and yell…. Hands
off! And then slam his body into the nearest wall. He
couldn’t do that; she wouldn’t speak to him for
probably the rest of his life if he did something that
stupid. If for any reason, she thought he considered
her his property. Plus, he didn’t want a lecture on
the controlling of one’s temper, and the jealousies of
the young human male. He didn’t dare or even want to
open that can of worms.
“Who is that guy?” he wondered. And just what in the
hell is he wearing? A suit? What the hell kind of suit
is that? Too bad, its not a Starfleet uniform, I’d use
my position to demand he get his ass back to work. Or
give him the shittiest jobs on the ship. No, that
wouldn’t be right. To hell with right. There is no
right. When it comes to Deanna Troi, all human logic
goes out the window.
He took a bigger sip of his drink.
Who is that guy? Why didn’t the Captain tell me he was
here? But why would he do that? None of my business
right? Yeah, this guy has got to be a personal friend
of Deanna’s. How personal? How close of a friend? Are
they lovers?
Who is that guy? And what is she laughing at? No one
that handsome can have looks and humor. Oh great, he’s
laughing back. If she swats his knee one more time,
I’m going to go over there and break his entire
well-muscled leg. He better not touch her legs.
He took another drink.
Who is that guy? What the hell does she see in him?
How come she isn’t on duty? Shouldn’t she be on duty?
She’s ship counselor, how come she doesn’t have any
appointments? Shouldn’t she have appointments? No, too
late for appointments.
Who is that guy? Is he one of her clients? Is he some
sort of macho looking nut? No, he doesn’t look nuts.
Hell, he’s too handsome to be nuts. The only nuts I’ve
ever seen had deranged faces. His face isn’t deranged
in any way.
Riker finished his drink, and motioned to the
bartender for another.
Who the hell is that guy? How can she be with someone
like that, is she attempting to make me jealous?
Well, listen here, Miss Troi…. Two can play that game.
Let’s see whom can I make her jealous with? What
ammunition have I got? Oh yeah, that drunken yellow
beehive over there. That would make her laugh at me
and suggest I need therapy, instead of make her
jealous. Forget that. Definitely, forget that. Oh,
Gods Riker you are desperate, but not that desperate.
“Thanks.” He said aloud to the bartender. Riker picked
up his second drink. Turning back around towards the
two sitting at their table, his brain began to reel
again.
Who is that guy? How long is he staying? Hell, how
long has he been here? When is he leaving? Maybe he’s
getting ready to leave now, maybe tomorrow? Deanna
would be sad. But, I will be there to pick up the
pieces. Right? What if there weren’t any pieces to
pick up? What if she left with him? What if she left
the Enterprise?
He gulped half his drink down.
Who in the hell is that guy? Is he a Lawyer? A
Diplomat, maybe? Is he an Ambassador? He looks like
one of those. What if this is that Wyatt Miller guy?
What if this is that man she’s genetically bonded to?
Miller is a doctor; this guy looks like a doctor.
Yeah, he definitely looks like a doctor. Deanna’s
mother would definitely set her daughter up with
someone who had an appearance like that. What if he is
Wyatt Miller?
His brain was in a whirl; the questions and thoughts
and conclusions were flying around in his head so fast
he could hardly concentrate. His thoughts were
affecting his emotions, as he became more jealous, and
angrier as each thought processed through his mind.
Suddenly a hand touched him on the shoulder from
behind.
“Wha…the.. “ Riker jumped. With his brain suddenly
going into defense, it only took a split second for
him to whirl around; he doubled up his fist, and drew
back.
“Data! Damn it, I almost hit you.” he said, as his
heart went back into his chest.
“Are you all right, Commander?”
“Yes, I’m fine. You almost made me jump out of my
skin. Don’t ever do that again.” He warned the
android.
“Do what, Sir?”
“Sneak up on people like that”
“Sneak up, Sir?”
“To walk up behind someone, without them being
cognizant of your presence.”
“It was not my intention to deceive, Commander.”
A moment of silence passed between the two, as Riker
took a sip of his drink.
“Sir?” The android asked, breaking the silence.
Riker looked at him silently as to say go ahead.
Then Data cocked his head slightly. “Inquiry?”
“Yes, Data?”
“I wonder, how does one, being a mortal human such as
yourself, jump out of his or her own skin? Why did you
jump, Commander? Were you attempting to jump out of
your skin, Sir? And were those movements of jumping
out of one’s skin correspondent to demonstrate a form
of physical violence? Why were you going to strike me,
Sir? If that were the case, must one violently strike
another before they can begin the process of jumping
out of his or her own skin? “
“Just drop it, damn it!” Riker sounded harsh, he was
not in the mood for Data’s questions.
The android’s mouth immediately closed. ‘ “Of course.
My apologies, Sir.” Data’s shoulders slightly fell.
Riker looked at Data and exhaled. “I’m sorry Data.
What can I do for you?” he asked in a more even tone
of voice, feeling remorse for speaking to his friend
so harshly.
“I am here to transmit a nuncupative correspondence,
Sir.” Data stated with a nod of his head, ‘You are
wanted on the Bridge, Commander.”
“Why didn’t they just contact me on the com-badge?”
the words were out of Riker’s mouth before he realized
his thoughts were heard by Data.
Data’s golden eyes suddenly flashed. With a jerk of
his head, as if he was running and processing through
all the files in his data bank. He looked at Riker and
innocently responded, “I do not know, Sir.”
Riker quickly downed the rest of his drink. He slammed
the empty glass on the bar. Nodding his head at Data
giving the android a silent goodbye. He gave a quick
glance towards the two sitting at the far table.
As the door hissed open in order for him to make his
exit, Riker heard a soft sweet voice inside his head…
“He’s my first cousin.” It was Deanna’s voice,
followed by what he believed to be a slight hint of
laughter. It stopped him dead in his tracks. He tilted
his head and she never saw the big grin that totally
enveloped his face as he exited.
Data was left standing alone at the bar; he watched
the Commander leave and his face transformed into an
appearance of one who was puzzled. “Perhaps, I should
inquire of the Chief Medical Officer?” Data thought
aloud to himself. “She would indeed be most medically
informative as to how one could jump out of one’s own
skin.”
As the doors of Ten Forward slid open, Data walked
through them totally satisfied with his decision and
proceeded towards sickbay. In order to sneak up on
Beverly Crusher.
The End