Disclaimer: still stands true, paramount owns it all....everything, the whole kit-n-kaboodle..I'm just here it's my  recreational therapy.

Hope you like this.



Chapter 1

"Here is your room pass, Mr. Riker. The bell boy will be down shortly to assist you with your luggage." The dragging voice of the clerk behind the desk politely stated with a smile, the baldheaded man’s scalp shined as he leaned forward with the key, placing it in her husband’s hand. "I hope you find our facilities," He finished his sentence with a sly smile "adequate."

"Thank you. I am certain we will." Will responded with a smile, taking the key from the man's short stubby hand.

Deanna looked around the huge open area of the hotel, people were gathered in their tight little groups chatting and laughing. The hired workers scurried around in total chaos, attempting to settle everyone in, gathering luggage, and attempting to answer numerous amounts of questions.

Deanna was dressed in white slacks, accented with a soft teal striped blouse. She thought that the outfit would be appropriate and crisp looking, for the yacht club type setting. She and her husband had elected to spend two marvelous weeks in the warm sunny climate by the sea, sailing and enjoying the atmosphere of the salty brisk air. "This room is full of leaders, dignitaries, royalty, the more exclusive wealthier upper class." Deanna thought to herself as she continued to scan the room. She secretly hoped that her husband wouldn’t feel inadequate as he sometimes did, in her more elite social gatherings. He often complained that some of her friends were nothing but a bunch of unsympathetic, opulent pompous windbags.

"Yeah---yeah---yeah" she heard the disgruntled voice as it approached her from behind, just before it bumped into her.

"Oops. I’m so sorry." She turned around towards the sound of the apology. Standing before Deanna was a short, very short female. Her height reaching only to Deanna’s bosom. She was dressed in a sailor’s suit, on top of her head was a white captains hat, that appeared to be a couple of sizes too large. "I need to watch where I’m a going." She added, her embarrassment evident by the blush on her cheeks. "Are you all right, Miss?" she asked.

"Yes, I’m fine." Deanna’s voice was filled with compassion, feeling pity for the woman’s evident awkwardness. "I often find myself bumping into things, also." Deanna said trying to make the woman feel more at ease with the situation.

"Ever since, Herman" she explained through her dark red lipstick, "That’s my belated…rest his soul." the air escaped her lips, as if remembering her late dear spouse. "I can’t seem to concentrate on anything."

"I understand." Deanna sympathized with understanding eyes. "How long has your husband been gone?" Noticing that the woman had a smudge of red lipstick on her front tooth.

"Oh honey, we weren’t married." She emphasized the word ‘weren’t’

"I see." Deanna nodded once, not quite understanding this short little woman. But pretending she did.

"Deanna, you ready?" Will asked as he approached the two women.

"Yes. Yes, I am." She answered. "Please allow me properly introduce ourselves, I’m Deanna and this is my husband, Will Riker." She politely stated to the shorter woman. "And you are?"

"Tilly. Tilly Glassbrook." Extending her hand towards Will, as she took a step towards him. "Herman wasn't as handsome as you, or as tall, but his wealth made up for his appearance and height." She stated as she cranked her head skyward to look at the big man. He noticed that her eye shadow was the same shade as her sailor's outfit.

"Herman?" he asked in puzzlement. "I’m sorry Miss Glassbrook, but I am afraid I don’t understand."

"Forget it, you’re married." She quickly stated with a wave of her wrist.

Deanna draped her arm in her husband’s arm, sensing his confusion. "Well." She sighed, "I guess we’ll go to our room and begin the unpacking process." She politely excused herself. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Glassbrook."

"And you too." She smiled, turning around. They both noticed that she had a slight hobble to her walk, as she disappeared into the crowd.

"Eccentric?" Will asked, with a smile.

"Somewhat. But nice" she answered as she led him towards the elevator.


Their hotel suite was located on the twenty-first floor. Standing on the balcony of their room, Deanna felt the salty air as it sent cool refreshing waves through her being. She noticed the sunset as it glowed in hues of orange and yellow shadows that reflected off of the sea. Turning into a purple haze as the colors faded in the horizon. She silently watched as the sun magically melted into the waters.

"Beautiful, isn’t it?" she heard his voice behind her.

"Hmm." She said nodding her head, her eyes never leaving the hypnotizing wonderment of the setting sun.

Will approached from behind and buried his face in her neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist as she placed both of her hands on top of his.

"I could stay like this forever." She whispered as she nestled herself closer into his embrace.

Will raised his head and kissed the top of her hair gently, as they silently watched the rest of the sunset together.

They stood there in silence, when both heard the low tumbling growl of Will’s stomach.

"How hungry are you?" he asked, with a lopsided grin, he was already backing away from her walking towards their room.

"Apparently not as hungry as your are." She laughed.

"Deanna, I’m famished."

"All right. We can have dinner in the banquet room, if you’d like." She suggested. "I hear they have a delicious buffet."

"Sounds good to me." He said as he grabbed his dinner jacket.

Holding his elbow out towards her she smiled as she wrapped her arm in his and they left their hotel room.

The banquet room was a large area, with small candle lit tables, giving it an atmosphere of romance.

There was a small band playing soft music, towards the back of the room for dancing.

Will and Deanna were escorted to their table by a cute little waitress who Deanna knew couldn’t have been over twenty years old. Will gave the waitress their drink orders. Deanna scanned the room, eyeing the different patrons as they mingled about the room.

"So what do you think?" he asked, looking across the table.

"I think that young man standing at the bar over there is unhappy."

Will glanced over at the bar, "He doesn’t look unhappy to me." He couldn’t help but notice that the young man appeared to be handsome and well tanned. He also had three very young, very beautiful women surrounding him, all who were apparently competing with one another for the young man’s undivided attentions.

"He’s unhappy, about something---I can sense it." She observed.

"I know. I can see his dilemma." He paused momentarily for the waitress to place the drinks down in front of them. "I wouldn’t know which one to choose to take home either----that’s a tough one." He took a sip of his drink. "Personally, I wouldn’t want to break anyone’s heart so, I guess I would have to take all three of them."

"What?!" She whispered with some urgency, giving him a queer look.

"I said," he took another sip of his drink "I would definitely have to take all three home."

Leaning towards him she declared. "Riker, you’re as old as all three of their ages combined."

"It’s nice to know that when I make a comment on a beautiful woman, my wife immediately transforms into a mathematical scholar." He winked.

"William Riker" she stated leaning back in her chair with both arms crossed in front of her.


"You’re impossible."

"I know I can be a little impossible at times but I love you."

"You do?"

"Yes I do." He said looking about the room. "And right now I am very, very hungry." He added whispering across the table.

"Well then shall we go to the buffet table, Captain?"

"Thought you’d never ask." He smiled as he stood to his feet.

She observed her husband; he wasn’t being facetious when he said that he was hungry. He took total advantage of the buffet. Making repeated trips to the smorgasbord. She watched in amusement as he thoroughly enjoyed that all you could eat buffet.

Deanna watched the young man at the bar, and couldn’t escape the turmoil that she sensed from him.



After dinner, Will insisted that they dance. Deanna was surprised that he could even ambulate, considering all of the food he had consumed.

They were arm and arm, laughing and talking as they slowly walked through the plush lobby as they headed towards their room. Deanna was telling Will how all she wanted to do was take a hot steamy bath.

"Oh!" Deanna suddenly stopped as if she forgot something.


"I forgot my bag." She remembered. "In the banquet room."

"We can go back and get it." He smiled as he began to turn them around.

"No." she said, "That’s not necessary. I can go back."

"I would be more than…."

"It will only take me a second." She cut him off, as she hurried off towards the banquet room. "You can wait right here if you’d like." She called out to him.

Looking around the lobby, he noticed a plush sofa and decided to sit down and wait until Deanna returned.

Deanna claimed her bag at the bar. The waitress in the banquet room had seen her leave it, and immediately had given it to the bartender.

"Please tell the waitress that Mrs. Riker would like to reward her and thank her personally for returning my bag." She politely instructed the bartender.

"Yes, ma’am I’ll do that."

A tall, well-built young man suddenly approached her. His face was strong, and his eyes were as dark as midnight, matching his slicked back ebony black hair. He was wearing a tuxedo, and she noticed how handsome and proudly he postured himself in it.

"Hmmm…What’s that smell?"

"Pardon me?" she asked as she turned around to face the young man.

"That smell, what perfume is that?" he sniffed in the air. "Is that perfume or is that just you?"

"It’s perfume and the name of it is Jasmine Nights" she politely answered, not wanting to be rude.

"Smells absolutely enchanting." He said with a sly smile.

"Thank you." She smiled. "If you would please excuse me." She began.

"You are an excellent dancer." He quickly cut her off with another line.

"I beg your pardon?" Deanna asked, wondering how this young man could possibly know how she danced.

"I noticed you dancing on the floor earlier this evening." He quickly amended. "You are an excellent dancer."

"Thank you." The uneasiness was evident in her voice. "My husband actually deserves all of the credit." Wanting to make certain that this young man was aware without question that she was married. "He leads very well." She added.

"He’s your husband?" he asked somewhat taken aback.

"Yes, he is waiting for me in the lobby. I returned only to retrieve my bag."

"He doesn’t look like the type." He said slyly. "That would marry, I mean."

"Well." She stated, "Perhaps you should speak to him regarding that matter." She stated, thankful for the ring that was on her finger. Thankful for her husband, wishing he were with her now. This man was beginning to scare her.

"No, I would much rather prefer to speak with you." He said in a low tone, slowly moving in towards her. "I want to be with you." He whispered into her ear.

"Excuse me." She said taking a step back. "I really should be leaving now."

"You’re not leaving." He insisted, as he immediately clutched onto her arm. His grip was fierce and it caused her immediate pain.

"Release me, Sir." She ordered firmly, ignoring her own discomfort as she glanced down at her arm and then back up at him.

The man scowled "And if I don’t, what then?" he moved his face closer to hers. An awkward feeling of terror began to crawl all over her body.

She stared into his eyes, they were different, and they appeared to have a silver sparkle in the center of them, which spiraled and twirled around. She was mesmerized by the effect. She couldn’t help but concentrate on the twirling effect of his eyes. The silver sparkle continued to revolve. Slowly at first and then gaining momentum as the silver dot gyrated faster and faster.

"You…You…" she stammered. She felt her heart race. She felt dizzy. She felt tiny beads of sweat as they began to form on her neck. She felt all the blood rush from her face.

She tried to call out to Will, using their link but her brain was too startled to do so.

"Something…isn’t…" she attempted to say, still focused on his eyes. "right" she softly whispered. She had forgotten about his powerful grip on her arm, and the suffering that it was forcing upon her.

"Please… What… do you" she stammered, not being able to break away from the spell his eyes had on her. "Want…from….me?" Her heart was pounding against her chest. She began to breathe unevenly. She suddenly froze; her eyes became transfixed upon his.

"I think you know, Deanna." he softly whispered. Never releasing his magical eyes from hers.

"Yes." She whispered transfixed upon his eyes.

"Yes." He whispered, oddly sounding like a snake. He lowered his lips to hers.



"Deanna?" the stranger heard a voice from across the room. The young man immediately lifted his head, and straightened his posture, standing at his full height.

The man quickly glanced towards Will and then at Deanna before he backed away, "Please." quickly letting go of her arm. "Please, forgive me." He smiled at Deanna. "I believe that the drinks I’ve consumed, have somewhat impeded my judgement." He lied. "I apologize for being so forward."


Deanna quickly snapped out of the hypnotic world she had been trapped in, and whirled around to see Will approaching them.

"Did you find your bag?" he asked now standing beside her.

"Yes. Yes, I did." She answered flatly, as if she were looking through him, instead of at him.

"You hadn’t returned, so I thought I should see what was taking so long." He stated standing beside his wife. He noticed the statement on her face; her skin was ashen in color. He studied her for only a second, as if in thought.

"Is everything all right?" he directed his question towards the young man.

The young man straightened his posture, and glared at Will. "Yes," the young man said with a smile, beyond his resentment for the kiss being interrupted by, what he considered to be an overly safeguarding husband. "I was just complimenting your lovely wife on her choice of fragrance." He directed his attention towards Deanna, "Wasn’t I?" he asked with a tilt of his head.

"Yes. Yes, he was." She quickly responded.

"Yes." He repeated her words. "If you would excuse me." He smiled, with a slow nod of the head. "I shall retire for the evening." The young man, quickly turned around and proudly walked out of the bar.

Neither one of them heard the young man curse profoundly as he walked out of the banquet room.

"What was that all about?" Will asked.

"He told me he admired my perfume, that’s all." Deanna said, taking her husband’s arm, herding him towards the exit. "He really is a very nice, and polite young man." She stated pleasantly, "You shouldn’t be jealous." She instructed him with a smile.

Riker wasn’t jealous. He had an uneasy feeling about this young man who had just impressed his wife, and for some reason he knew that there had been more than what she was telling him.





Later that same evening, she was undressing when Will came walking into the bedroom.

"What’s that?" he asked, his eyes were focused on her upper arm.

"What?" she asked looking about the room.

"That bruise." He said as he walked towards her "What happened?"

Deanna twisted her arm around in order to view the affected area; the upper part of her arm had a nasty, offensive looking bruise. It spanned across the underside of her arm.

"Please, don’t worry about it." She said in a calm, relaxing voice.

He couldn’t do that. He had to worry, it was automatically programmed in his brain, to worry when Deanna got hurt. He was made to protect her, and he hated himself when he couldn’t. "Looks like…." Will observed, as he examined it more closely.

"Owww." She flinched suddenly when he touched it.

"Deanna. What happened?" he demanded quietly, more so out of concern. He held the bottom part of her arm in his hand.

"I bumped into the wall downstairs" she explained. Not realizing that she was lying. "It’s nothing."

He knew she was lying.

"It looks like someone grabbed you." His eyes focused on hers.

"Well, I certainly don’t remember anyone grabbing me" she said hastily, as she rudely jerked her arm away. "At least not with enough force to produce an injury such as this."

"Deanna." He stated questionably.

"Are you accusing me of lying?" she sounded both startled and angry.

"Yes, I am."

"It’s not the first bruise I’ve ever had William." She sounded irritated by his concern. Totally ignoring his blunt answer about her lying.

"Well, I would feel better if you contacted a doctor."

"Really, you’re making over me like some…some over protective mother hen." Rage suddenly filled her face. "Stop it!" her dark eyes flashed angrily.

She snatched her robe off of the end of the bed, and practically slung it onto her body. Flipping her trapped hair out from the inside of the bath garment. "It makes me ill." She declared in an icy tone. She then stormed off towards the bathroom.

"Damn." He said quietly to himself not fully understanding what just happened. The sudden change of attitude his wife had just displayed left him speechless. He watched her leave the room.

She had planned to take full advantage of their hotel suite’s jacuzzi size tub.

She eased herself into the hot whirling tub, until her long ebony locks floated beside her face in the steaminess of the water. She began to relax, as the thoughts of the day slowly drifted out of her mind, including the anger that she had felt towards her husband just minutes before.


"Yes?" she answered, as she enjoyed the warmth of the swirling, soothing tub.

"You certainly look relaxed." Will stated as he leaned against the doorway of the room with both arms across his chest. Choosing to allow their earlier spat to go into recess.

"Hmmm…. This is truly exquisite." She purred, closing her eyes.

"Would you relax more if you had…. Company?

"Why Captain…that’s an excellent idea." She smiled. "I would love some company." She said as she raised her head slightly out of the water. "Whom did you have in mind?" she asked with a playful tilt of her head.

"Oh…. I don’t know," he said in playful retaliation. "I was thinking about going over and inviting Miss Glassbrook."

"Touché, Captain" she whispered. Looking at him seductively, she slowly slid back down into the water.

"That sounds like an invitation to me." He smiled, as he quickly began to remove his clothing.

There was no more conversation about bruises or anything else for the rest of the evening.

Will had convinced himself that he would do his own investigating. He would find out just what in the hell was happening? He would find out, who indeed injured his wife, and why?




Deanna lay in bed staring at the ceiling. It was way past her bedtime, yet she wasn’t tired. With his back to her, Will was asleep, listening to the hardness of his breathing she knew that he would be difficult to wake up. If he were on his own ship the slightest sound usually woke him up with a start. But not here, not now.

She slowly crawled out of bed, grabbing her robe she tiptoed towards the sliding glass doors that lead to the balcony.

Standing out on the balcony, in the stillness of the night, she was enjoying the quiet. The gentle breeze fanned her hair, and felt good on her face. She leaned on the railing, and looked beyond the horizon, quietly admiring the stars, the ocean appeared to go on forever against the light of the full moon.

Suddenly there came a cool breeze as it chilled down her spine. She thought she saw a figure out of the corner of her eye. Looking behind her that’s when she saw him, and it was the young man from the bar. He slowly walked towards her. She was frozen; she looked at him as if, her eyes looking through his transparent figure. He slowly walked ever so graceful towards her. Her heart began to pound in her chest. She felt her own face as it began to turn red in embarrassment. Suddenly feeling inadequate, as if she wasn’t quite good enough for this prince. She became his slave and would do anything for him.

"Deanna?" he quietly whispered, as he took the palm of his hand and placed it against her cheek.

She couldn’t answer, she couldn’t speak. She stared blankly into his magical eyes. Her face leaned towards his touch.

"You will be mine." He seductively whispered, his black penetrating eyes, looking down upon her.

She focused on his eyes; they were hypnotic, magical and so…so beautiful.

"Leave him." Charles slowly whispered. She felt his breath against her skin, as he lowered his lips to hers.

"Yes." Whispering her response, it was so low, it melted into the sound of the breeze around them.

He kissed her…. And she gladly kissed him back. It was a hard kiss. He pulled her so forcefully to him, she felt as if her spine was going to snap. Her thigh slammed against his body, as he closed the gap between them. His fingernails clawed down her spine, as the kiss grew deeper. She wanted to cry out in pain, as the tiny droplets of blood formed trailing behind his sharp fingernails, as they dug into her spine. Despite his savagery, she wanted the kiss to last forever.

Charles released her. He pulled her away from him, and looked again into her eyes. She became transfixed on his gyrating, swirling, hypnotic eyes. Pressing his hand on her shoulder, he began to squeeze; his iron grip would cause another bruise. Yet she didn’t care, she couldn’t feel it. Her body became numb; totally consumed by his presence; her focus on was his eyes. His touch was painful, and yet all she craved was his touch. He released his firm steel grip that he had on her shoulder and began to slowly back away from her. Stiffly taking a step towards him, he held out the palm of his hand to halt her steps. Meekly obeying, she took no further steps forward in his direction. He continued to walk slowly backward away from her, she heard his evil whisper, "Kill him."

"Yes." Deanna whispered in the air.

He whirled around and he was gone, just as suddenly as he had appeared he had vanished.

Deanna was left standing alone on the balcony in a daze. Wrapping both arms around her, breathing in the brisk salty midnight air. She remembered the kiss, only remembering it as soft and gentle, loving and tender. She smiled at the thought of the dashing, debonair young Charles of the Yacht Club.

Turning around and glancing through the glass sliding doors, the sight brought her back instantly to the present. She saw Will, as he slept peacefully in their bed. A sudden surge of rage and anger flooded through her veins and it was directed towards her husband.



When Will woke up the next morning, Deanna was already in the shower. He heard the water running, as his mind drifted back to the argument they had had the night before, and the unsightly bruise on her arm. Then he remembered the tub, and the sex that followed, he smiled at the thought of it as he stretched his body across the bed. Grabbing his thick terry-cloth robe and placing it across his lap, he sat up on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through his hair. He inhaled and exhaled, as he gathered his thoughts for the day.

After a while, he stood up and put on his robe. He made his way towards the bathroom door.

"Deanna?" he knocked on the bathroom door.

"Deanna?" he knocked again, yelling above the sound of the running water.

He heard her as she turned the shower off. He backed away from the door, knowing she would be coming though the archway soon.

"What?" she asked as she entered the room, tying the belt of her robe. Her voice had a tinge of annoyance to it.

"I just wanted to ask if you wanted to call room service for coffee or if you wanted to go down to the buffet room."

"Is that all you think about?"

"What?" he asked, not really knowing where this was coming from.

"Yourself!" she barked. "That’s what."

"Deanna, if I’ve somehow offended you…." He began to apologize.

"Offended me?" She cut him off with her words and her icy stare. She went back into the bathroom; he attempted to follow her only to have the door slam in his face. "You have the audacity to try to apologize, after what you’ve done." He heard her say through the door.

He stood stiff and dumbfounded, his brain was in mass confusion, he had no idea what warranted this behavior. He attempted to open the bathroom door. He jiggled the doorknob. It was locked. He knocked on the door. "Deanna." He called, "Open the door."

"Go away!"

"Deanna, please." He called through the door.

"Get out!" she yelled.

"If that’s what you want."

"Just Get Out!" this time she screamed the words at him.

He could hear her crying through the door. Turning away from the door, his earlier soft-spoken words turned callused as he stated to himself, "Fine! Shit! Just fine."

Riker quickly got dressed and left the hotel suite.

Deanna was sitting on the edge of the huge jacuzzi tub when she heard the door of their hotel suite slam. She grabbed a towel and wiped away the tears. Standing at the basin, she washed her face. Feeling betrayed and abused she slowly turned around…behind her was a floor length mirror, she began to disrobe. She stood there naked in front of the mirror, she examined her body for awhile but all she could see was the huge ugly purple tinted bruises, and the ugly scratch that was almost the length of her spine. She had bruises on her arms, and shoulders. And a huge one on her leg, that covered most of her upper thigh area. The bruises were sore and tender to the touch. She flinched as she began to rub her blackened shoulder.

"How could you do this to me, Will?" she asked the man who wasn’t there. The once loving husband, who had just stormed out of their hotel suite.

Deanna walked out of the bathroom, making sure that Riker was truly gone. She stood in the middle of the room, unsure as to what to do. Wrapping both arms around her robed bruised body.

"Deanna?" she heard Charles’ voice.

Whirling around it was the debonair, dashing, young man; his black hypnotizing eyes were focused on her.

He slowly walked towards her…extending his hand to her.

Gladly excepting it, stiffly…. She walked towards him…he said nothing more to her, he roughly grabbed her and pulled her into his arms, and kissed her. He laid her on the bed… "I’ll do whatever you want…" she whispered.

He began to savagely make love to her.





Will Riker entered the bar, there were only two or three patrons sitting up at the bar, and there was a couple sitting in a far off corner. It was ‘only nine o’clock in the morning’ he told himself as he scanned the room.

Will approached the empty bar, "Scotch." He ordered. The bartender gave him a nod, and flipped the hand towel he was using to wipe down the bar over one of his shoulders.

Riker thanked the man, and took a sip of his drink. Sitting on the bar stool his focus was straight ahead of him, he attempted to recall the events that led up to Deanna throwing him out of their room. He had no answers. He had no clues.

"Little early to be drinking?"

"Yeah." He responded not turning towards the voice. "So. What about it?" his voice full of reluctance.

"Wife kick you out?"

The question made him turn his head towards the voice. Sitting at the bar, a couple of stools down was a young man. He had brown curly hair and deep blue eyes. He carried himself well. Although now his clothes appeared to be rumpled, and it looked as though he’d been up all night. This was the same young man that Deanna had felt pity for, which she said, appeared unhappy. The same young man that was with the three woman.

"Speak for yourself." Will then lifted up his glass and toasted the young man.

"Yeah. Well, I’ve got problems." The man’s shoulders fell, and he stared at his glass of what appeared to be straight bourbon.

Riker turned his head and faced forward, he took a sip "Having trouble choosing which one to screw?" Riker asked bluntly, not caring what the man thought. "Or did you just take on all three?"

"No. I didn’t sleep with any of them." The man said, as he took a drink. "I’m married." He downed his drink, and slammed the empty shot glass on the bar. "Newlyweds actually." He repeated through the sharp shot of bourbon he had just tossed down his throat.

"You sure as hell don’t act married." Riker said as he took a sip, his eyes still refusing to look at the young man.

The young man moved down and took a seat on the stool next to Riker. "That’s just it." He said, his blue eyes widened. "My wife." he raised his shot glass towards the bartender. "She thinks I’m abusing her.

"Are you?"

"No!" he protested. "Thanks." His attention quickly diverted to the bartender. "She came up with all these weird bruises and she swears I beat her in a jealous rage."

His statement got Riker’s attention; his eyes widened at the young man’s words. As he turned to look at him.

"Bruises?" Riker asked.

"They’re all over her body…" he swallowed. "Then she saw me with those ladies last night…and the rest is….well…." he trailed off as he sipped his drink.

"She’s pretty pissed I take it." Riker said, looking at the man’s appearance.

"Stephanie, my wife…. That’s her name, she kicked me out of the room last night… And I come down here for a drink." He took a drink. "And shit, all these ladies swarmed me, she witnessed it and now she honestly believes that I’m cheating on her as well. In her warped way of thinking she states that" he took a sip of his drink and swallowed…. "I signed my divorce papers the minute I raised my hand to her….in which she honestly believes that bullshit too."

Riker just looked at the young man. He noticed that his eyes looked weary and tired. He had a haggard look that scanned across his face. Deanna was right, this young man was troubled.

"Did she say anything to you this morning?" Riker asked, "Your wife?" he clarified.

"I think she’s gone." He stated quietly. Riker could see that this young man was hurting.


"Yeah. She must have packed up and left sometime last night."

"What did she say?"

"She just said, I nauseated her." He said as he downed the entire shot of bourbon. His eyes became fixed as his brain recalled his young wife’s last venomous words to him. "After seven months of marriage, I nauseate her?" he said in disbelief, as if he couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. His voice suddenly turned hard as he voiced with sarcasm, "She’s probably gone back to her family’s house to tell them what a son of a bitch I am." He said as he lifted up his glass towards the bartender. "They’ll believe that."




"I love you." Deanna whispered as she watched this magical prince dress.

"Yes." Charles whispered with an evil curl of his lip…. "You do."

"You must kill your husband. His blood is the only thing that will set you free…" his evil advice sweetly sang into her ears.

And then he was gone.

Looking about the room, Deanna suddenly felt abused and totally violated.

She immediately jumped out of bed and headed towards the shower, she cursed her husband aloud while she bathed.

Emerging from the shower, she put her heavy terry cloth robe on and walked through the bathroom threshold, she began to get dressed.

Making certain that the chosen wardrobe consisted of clothing that would cover the ugly, unsightly bruises. "You won’t do it again, Will Riker." She said aloud to herself as she buttoned her long sleeved blouse. "I’ll kill you first." She swore, as her eyes filled with rage.

Deanna Troi-Riker was definitely leaving her abusive husband. The first thing she picked up out of the dresser drawer was a gun.



Deanna packed her suitcase. She inhaled and exhaled nervously as she exited the suite. She hurried along the hallways of the hotel, looking for an exit. She had to find another hotel, she had to leave, she had to take a shuttle, she had to something, anything…one thing she knew for certain was that she had to get away from her abusive husband. As her steps quickened with the beating of her heart, she rounded a corner quickly only to bump into a body.

"Oh, I’m terribly sorry." She apologized, quickly grabbing the older lady’s shoulders, steadying herself and the slightly startled woman.

"I guess I deserve that…" she heard the laughter behind the voice. "I can see that you’re in quite some hurry."

"Mrs. Glassbrook, are you alright?" Deanna attempted to sound polite. Ignoring her statement about her rush.

"Yes, yes. I’m fine." She said, "Please call me Tilly." as she laid her hand on Deanna’s arm, eyeing her with a form of parental concern.

Deanna flinched with the slight pressure of the elder lady’s hand.

"Honey." The woman quickly became alarmed. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing." Deanna answered too quickly.

"Well, you look like you’ve been crying." The short little woman eyed the Betazoid, not believing her. "I’ve been around enough to know, and you’re definitely upset about something."

"No, I’m alright." Deanna said, as she looked up and down the hallways nervously, hoping she wouldn’t run into Will, or worse he would see her standing with a suitcase in her hand. She became paranoid; her eyes held a certain wildness to them. She wanted to leave the hotel and this lady was retarding her departure. Tilly Glassbrook noticed the frightened look in Deanna’s eyes.

"Come with me, honey." She said, as she herded Deanna down the hall. "I’m not going to hear any more of it…" she insisted. "I’ll take you to my room."

Deanna kept looking over her shoulder nervously, as they walked down the hallways of the hotel.



The doctor quietly examined her. Reaching into his bag, he removed an object and began to scan it across the various cuts and bruises on her body.

"You’ve been physically abused and raped." The doctor frowned, as he read the small tri-corder he held in his hand. "These marks were definitely made by human hands."

Deanna remained silent, staring blankly at the doctor.

"Who did this?" the doctor asked, placing a hand on her shoulder, his eyes filled with sympathy for the abused woman.

"My husband." Deanna answered bluntly. "William Riker." Hoping her hatred for the man she married, as she stated his name, wasn’t showing through.

"I have to take some photo’s now." He softly said.

She nodded.

Deanna began to feel uncomfortable as the doctor began to take holo-photos of the ugly cuts and bruises that covered her tiny frame. She was beginning to feel humiliated by the scenario that she was living.

"There that should be enough." He smiled, sensing her discomfort. He reached into his bag for another instrument.

"This William Riker." He said thoughtfully. The doctor ran a small instrument over the bruised areas of her body. "Is he aware, that you’ve left him?" he asked as he ran the small instrument over the blackened areas, never looking up at her.

"No. He isn’t." Deanna whispered her voice took on a sudden nervousness that the doctor recognized immediately.

"Does he know where you are now?" he asked as he stopped the treatment, and now looked into her eyes.

Deanna shook her head-indicating no. She was afraid to speak. Her hatred for her husband had grown beyond her comprehension. She could no longer control her emotions, yet she didn’t want to cause a scene so she remained silent.

Deanna watched silently as the ugly blackened areas began to change in color and then slowly disappear. He skin color soon returned to its normal healthy glow.

"That should do it." He stated with a slight smile, as he returned the medical instrument into its proper place inside of the bag. "I’ll have to report this." His voice suddenly sounded serious, and it didn’t surprise Deanna. She nodded in understanding. "I would suggest that you stay away from your husband, for the time being." He said as he gently touched her arm. "You may get dressed now."

Deanna watched as the doctor turned and walked out of Tilly’s bedroom suite. She quickly gathered her clothing and began to dress.

As she walked into the room, she noticed that the doctor and Tilly were talking, their faces looked anything but pleasant. She heard them utter a few words, before they realized she was standing there. They both immediately silenced themselves as they turned and looked at her.

"I’ve decided that you can stay with me." Tilly said hopefully, as she approached Deanna.

"All right." She responded in a softened tone.

"Very Well." The doctor said as he turned on his heels and walked towards the door.

"Wait." The short lady called out to the doctor.

"Should we leave and go to another hotel?" Tilly asked, now in fear for Deanna’s safety.

He rubbed his cheek as if in thought for a moment, he then stared at Deanna. He finally spoke, "Your husband will be arrested soon, Mrs. Riker. He shouldn’t be a threat once he’s in jail." He released a heavy sigh; "I would stay here until that happens though."

"All right." She obeyed, her voice sounded meek. "Thank you, Doctor." She smiled. "For everything." She sighed a sigh of relief, knowing that Will would be apprehended.

"Will Riker wont’ hurt you anymore, honey." He older woman said with kindness, patting her on the back. "Why did he do this?" she asked timidly.

A lump formed in Deanna’s throat and her stomach felt nauseous at the thought of Will Riker. "I don’t know." She quietly answered, quickly turning around so that the older woman wouldn’t see her rage.



Will Riker sat up at the bar, alone. The young man had decided to go to his room and sleep off the bourbon that he had forced upon his system.

Riker’s brain was also beginning to get fuzzy from the drinks and he definitely had wished he had eaten something before he began his drinking spree almost four hours earlier.

"Hello." He heard a young female voice.

"Good morning." He responded with a smile, as he swiveled his barstool towards the voice. Standing before him was the young waitress that had returned Deanna’s bag the night before, she was young, and beautiful, probably the closest thing to a sex symbol that Riker had ever seen. She had long flowing blonde hair, and a dazzling white smile. She had a body that any man would kill for.

"You’re in here early." She stated, as she placed her bag on the bar. Nodding at the bartender. Riker noticed long blonde hair, thinking of spun silk.

"Waiting to thank you personally for returning my wife’s bag." He said in his most charming voice.

"Oh that’s quite all right." She said with a slight blush to her cheek. "Call me Ginger." She said extending an arm and a huge smile. Her smile was dazzling, and her blue eyes sparkled.

"It’s a pleasure, Ginger." He said with a nod, and a smile, taking her hand and kissing it in greeting. "I’m Will. Will Riker."

"Nice to meet you, Will." She said, quickly lowering her hand. "Just how many drinks have you had, Will?" she asked, her eyes focused on his. ‘ Caught’ he thought.

"I’d say…. Two." he said with a lopsided grin. "Too many."

"Well, that would be my assumption." She smiled. Riker wished she was twenty years older or he was twenty years younger.

"Well, I suppose I should leave then." He said, "I mean, it isn’t fair that you should come on duty and immediately have some old man making passes at you, is it?"

"Some married man." she reminded him with a playful tilt of the head. "The age isn’t important…… the married is."

"Ah, yes…" he said rubbing his beard as if in thought. "I must thank you for refreshing my memory." Then he flashed one of his famous grins at her, and held up a finger to her. " I am married aren’t I?"

"Yes, you are." She whispered in his ear. He couldn’t help but notice her cleavage.

"Then I apologize…" he stated in a gentlemanly manner. "Please forgive me."

"Not very many men give up that easy." She smiled.

"I’m quite certain… they don’t." he shook his head, the thoughts of her gorgeous naked young body quickly flashed through his mind. "I wouldn’t…" he smiled. "Give up that easy…." He rose one eyebrow.

"You really are a nice man, Will." She said in earnest.

"Now that is my cue to leave." He said, shoving his glass away from him. "When a beautiful young woman calls you…a nice man…it’s time to make an exit."

"Will I see you later?" she asked as he stood up from his stool.

"No doubt, honey." He said, walking away she heard him repeat himself. "If my wife kicks me out again, no doubt at all."

As the doors of the elevator slid open he began to step forward, he noticed a Doctor coming out. "Excuse me." The doctor said, as he walked around him, never glancing up. Riker noticed that the doctor had a long, sour look on his face.

"No problem." Riker said, shrugging it off thinking that the doctor must be headed for some emergency somewhere.

Riker stood there as the elevator doors closed, he punched the button. "Damn." He said shaking his head, leaning back on the wall of the small enclosure. Wishing he hadn’t drank so much. His brain began to fog, and the room began to spin.

"Will?" He heard her voice. He blinked twice not believing what was in front of him.

"Deanna?" he whispered in intoxicated astonishment.

Standing before him was his wife; she was dressed in a long white cotton gown. The gown swayed and floated as if she were standing in the wind.

She slowly began to walk towards him. His eyes widened, he shook his head twice, trying to clear the image from his mind.

"You will die." She quietly stated, then her lips curled with a slight smile. He noticed Deanna’s eyes as they filled with hatred, and flashed with evil. He watched in horror, as the figure raised a huge knife above her head; the steel of the mighty blade became almost blinding as it mirrored off of the lights of the elevator. Suddenly and with one quick thrust the figure lunged the knife downward viciously stabbing at her husband.

He instantly dove out of the way; the sleeve of his shirt was lacerated. His body, due to the mass of his weight slammed on the other side of the elevator wall. Looking up in terror, he saw her face as it reddened with anger.

He blinked again and it was gone, the image had suddenly vanished.

Slowly lifting himself up, he winced at the pain he had caused himself from the fall, "Damn. Sober up, Riker." He quietly said to himself, as he slapped the sides of his face with his hand. "When you see your wife coming at you with a knife, you’re too damn drunk." He began to straighten his posture, tightly closing his eyes, he shook his head several times.


 "Deanna!" Will called out into the empty room. Walking from room to room he repeatedly called her name.

"Shit." He cursed as he flopped himself on the bed. "She’s probably gone back to her mother’s" he laughed at his own remark. He studied the ceiling for awhile. "She’d never go there, that’s for damn sure." He quietly stated. Closing his eyes, the room began to swim… "Drunk again, Riker." He told himself, as he slowly drifted off into a deep sleep, enhanced by the consumption of the earlier alcohol.

"Open Up!" he heard pounding at the door, followed by the demand.

"Hold on, just a damn minute" he yelled, his voice tinged with that certain annoying anger…. After all what the hell time was it anyway, and who the hell is demanding him to do anything.

With his brain still in a haze, he slowly stood to his feet. He walked towards the door.

"What?" he said as he opened the door, moving his head from side to side as his neck cracked and popped with the movement.

"Are you William Riker?" the gruff middle aged detective asked.


"Arrest Him!" snapped the detective, motioning with a wave of his hand.

Before Riker could even protest or assemble his thoughts, three huge burly looking officers rushed through the door, and apprehended him, slamming his body face down onto the floor.

"What the hell is this?" Riker demanded as he squirmed to free himself, the side of his face buried into the carpet.

"You’re under arrest, low life." Sneered the officer who had his knee digging painfully into Riker’s spine, handcuffing his hands behind him.

"You’re full of shit." Riker snapped in defiance, "What charges?" he asked, as they roughly stood him to his feet.

"Rape and spousal abuse." The middle aged detective stated gruffly. "You’re a big bastard to be beating on such a small woman." Looking up and down at Riker’s form.

Riker was both angry and stunned at the accusation, his temper flared. "You son of a bit…" he attempted to lunge forward, only to be snapped back by the three officers.

"Your wife was correct." The gruff man said, not taking his glare away from the now enraged Riker. "You are hot headed and hard to control, aren’t you?"

"You have the right to remain silent…" one police officer began to read him his rights as he was shoved through the door.

Being escorted in handcuffs by the three huge burly looking officers, Will caught sight of Deanna who was standing at the end of the hall.

"Deanna." He yelled. "What the hell is this?" he demanded as the burly looking officers ignored his yells and tightened their grip on his arms.

"Deanna." He yelled, struggling to free himself from the officers.

They only tightened their grip again, forcing him forward.

He watched his wife silently stand arm and arm with Mrs. Glassbrook.

Deanna’s stomach churned at the sight of Will. A sickening fear began to rise to her throat, she whirled around and ran off down the opposite end of the hallway.

~~ Imzadi ~~ he used their link, as the three huge officers’ drug him down the long hallways of the posh hotel.

Deanna suddenly stopped. She stood motionless, she had heard his voice in her head. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t concentrate. She ran off as fast as she could down the long hallways of the hotel. Her only thought was that she desperately needed fresh air.

"You should be ashamed of yourself." Tilly yelled, through her bright red lipstick. "I hope they lock you up forever." She pointed a scorning finger at him. "You monster!" He heard her angry curses as he was escorted away.

All voices were silent as they walked through the lobby of the hotel; people turned and gawked scornfully as the officers escorted him towards the front door.

Once outside of the hotel, they shoved him into a secured shuttlecraft and zoomed off towards police headquarters.


"I’ll be all right." Deanna re-assured the older lady as she entered the hotel suite that was once belonged to the both of them. "Thank you so much for what you’ve done."

"You sure, Honey?" Tilly asked with concern. "I can get you some tea, or anything you want."

"No, no that won’t be necessary, now that Will’s in custody…. I should be just fine."

"At least you’re safe now." Gently squeezing her arm the older woman turned and walked away. "That monster." She stated as she walked out of the room.

Deanna watched stiffly as the door closed behind Tilly.



After spending the night in jail, Will Riker stared at
the tray of untouched food. It looked exactly like he
felt—shit--- and he wasn’t about to eat it, not that
he hadn’t tasted cell food before.  The hangover he
had from the day before, still lingered its ugly head
over his brain.
Will Riker was pacing back and forth in his cell. His
brain attempting to recall the events of the last few
days…his wife’s sudden change of attitude, the young
man at the bar who’s own wife had accused him of
abuse, and how he was faced with the same charge.
“This isn’t happening.” he quietly asked himself as he
flopped on his cot, putting both hands behind his
head. He closed his eyes in disbelief.
“William T. Riker?” Looking up he saw a short fat man,
with a balding head standing outside of his cell,
accompanied by two huge officers.
Lifting his head slightly. “Yeah.” Riker answered.

“They have appointed me to represent you. I’m your
lawyer.” Nodding at the officer beside him, the force
field dissolved. Stepping forward extending his hand
in greeting “I’m Fredrick W. Stratt”
Riker stood and shook his hand. “Now let’s see.” The
fat man said as he flipped the padd that he was
holding “You’ve been accused of rape and spousal abuse
is that correct?”
“You’re the lawyer, you tell me.” He stated
sarcastically, as he flopped back down on the cot,
putting both hands behind his head.
The fat bald man pushed his glassed up on his nose,
and frowned. “Mr. Riker, in order for me to properly
defend your case, I’d advise you to cooperate.”
“Look.” He said, “My wife kicked me out of our room
yesterday. I got drunk, was shunned by a beautiful
young woman. I passed out and was drug out of a posh
hotel by three ugly gorillas. I’ve just been arrested
for raping and beating my wife, whom I’ve known for
almost twenty years.” He closed his eyes, “Excuse me,
but it really hasn’t been my idea of an exclusive
“I understand that, Mr. Riker.” The fat man said with
a chuckle.
“So…what now.”  Not really appreciating the fat man’s
sense of humor, Riker noticed his chuckle was just a
bit too jolly. “Fred.” he said the man’s name with a

Ignoring Riker’s smugness, “Your history with
Starfleet is exceptional, Captain Riker.  That should
help us in trying to prove you’re innocence. But,” he
said as he looked up at his client, “Your wife’s
history with Starfleet is exceptional as well.” The
fat man sighed, “Plus, I should add, she has evidence
to prove her accusations.” He stated in a business
like voice, “She has a doctor’s report and photo’s,
Mr. Riker.”
“Photo’s?” Riker quickly perked up.
“Yes, quite graphic actually.” He removed holo-photos
of Deanna Troi-Riker. Will looked at his wife’s
evidence, it revealed various parts of her body,
covered with the ugly bruises and cuts. “That’s
enough.” Riker said, as his face suddenly turned
ashen, and his stomach began to churn. He quickly
handed the photos back to the lawyer.
Quickly turning around, Riker punched his fist into
the prison wall.
All of his frustration of the current events was now
mixed with silent rage. “When I find the son of a
bitch that did this, I’ll rip his throat out.” His
eyes flashed with the promise.
“Yes, as I was saying” the fat man ignored the anger
of his client. The bald man blindly put the
holo-photos inside his coat pocket. “Considering your
history with Starfleet, and this being your first
offense.” still looking down at the padd he was
holding. “You can get out of here on your own
recognizance if you promise not to come within fifty
feet of your wife.” He stated with such calmness that
it startled Riker.
“What?” he asked stunned, not being able to believe
the conditions.
“Those are the conditions, Mr. Riker.”
“But, I’m innocent.” Will pleaded standing to his
feet. “What do you mean I can’t come within fifty feet
of Deanna.”
“Those are the conditions, Mr. Riker.” The fat man
repeated for the second time, rather bluntly. “It was
the best that I could do,” he said as he pushed up the
glasses on his pug nose.  “Under the circumstances.”
He added.
Riker looked up at the ceiling and scratched under his
chin, as if in thought for a moment, looking at the
little fat lawyer he sighed,  “Okay.” knowing he
really had no choice in the matter, “I’ll take it.”
“Excellent.” The lawyer said with a smile of victory
as he extended his short fat arm out in agreement.
“I’ll speak with the commissioner and you should be
out of here within the next half-hour.” The short fat
lawyer turned and motioned to the guard as he walked
through the archway of the cell.
“Mr. Riker.” He said as he turned on his heels and
frowned,  “You must under no circumstances, go near
your wife.” He stated soberly, “If you do, you will be
incarcerated, and you’re chances of release will
be…Very, very slim, if not impossible. ”
“I understand.” Riker replied, in Starfleet fashion.
Having no intention what so ever of taking heed to
this fat pug lawyer’s warning.


Deanna entered the banquet room arm in arm with Tilly.
“Honey, I’ll find us a table.” The short lady stated
as he waved to the waitress, making their presence
“Yes, a table for two.” She smiled at the young
waitress, gripping onto Deanna’s arm. It was apparent
that this older woman with the bright red lipstick had
taken Mrs. Riker under her wing.
“I want to thank you personally for finding my bag and
returning it to the bar.” Deanna stated politely to
the young waitress, noticing her pearly white smile,
and her model figure.
“Yes, your husband was in here the other morning and
thanked me.”  She was already walking the two women to
their table. “I informed him that it happens all the
time.” She stopped in front of a table and motioned
with her hand.  “How is this table?” she asked.
“Oh it’s fine, hon.” The short lady stated, letting go
of Deanna’s arm, walking around the table to sit down.

“But you’re quite welcome Mrs. Riker” the waitress
smiled as Deanna sat down in her chair.
“Will, was in here?” Deanna asked the young girl.
“Yes, he was rather intoxicated actually.” She said as
she placed the silverware on the table. “Two
buffets’?” she asked the older woman. “I haven’t seen
him since though.” She directed the statement towards
“Lucky for you. He’s a monster.” The older woman
“Mr. Riker?” the young waitress asked the older woman,
shocked by her statement. “I thought he was very nice,
and very much a gentleman.” She then directed the
statement towards Deanna. “Your husband has a very
nice sense of humor, Mrs. Riker.” She continued, “He
said he would return but as I said, I haven’t seen him
“That’s because he’s incarcerated. And that’s just
where he belongs” the older woman scowled.
The young beautiful waitress face wore a look of
confusion. “Jail?”

“Yes, the big brute. He enjoys beating his wife.” The
older woman glared as she strongly voiced her opinion.
“Among other things.”  She huffed.
“He does that?” the young girl whispered to Deanna.
Her eyes suddenly widened, “You mean…he beat…..?”
“He most certainly is.” The older woman cut her off as
she snapped. “And you’d better stay away from him,
too.” She pointed a red polished finger at the young
“Working here, after so long you think you know
people…and then…. WOW!” the young waitress exclaimed,
not believing what she had just heard.

Deanna’s eyes scanned the room. She had determined
that she would close her mind, and ignore the young
waitress and Tilly’s conversation.  Standing up at the
bar was the young man she had seen a couple of nights
before when she and Will had come to the buffet. He
was standing alone. Deanna couldn’t shake the feeling
that the man with the brown curly hair was unhappy,
and his whole being was in turmoil. Deanna nervously
turned the wedding ring on her finger as she watched
the young man.
The young man suddenly perked up when he saw someone
walk though the archway; it was a young woman. She
walked slowly to the brown haired young man and they
began to talk. Deanna could tell by the look on their
faces that it wasn’t a pleasant conversation. Deanna
began to sweat. The young woman quickly whirled around
as she flipped her hair, and began to stomp out of the
room.  The young blue eyed man reached out and grabbed
her by the forearm, attempting to stop her. With him
being unaware, she reached into her bag and quickly
snapped out a handgun, she spun around and…fired.
And again.
And again.
The sound of gunshots echoed though the hotel. The
room filled with screams as the young man fell to the
floor. His body suddenly jerked one last time, before
it lay in cold silence on the floor.
The sounds of the room became muffled in Deanna’s
brain…every sound seemed to be miles away. She vaguely
heard the young waitress scream, and Tilly gasped in
horror. Deanna scanned the room, to her horror Charles
stood in the far corner with both arms crossed across
his chest as his lip curled with an evil smirk. Deanna
thought he was going to laugh…she sat frozen.
The room became a chaotic mass of confusion. Patrons
were running about the banquet area, some towards the
exit, other sat at their tables in horror. Some were
crying. Others were in shock. Husbands were cradling
their wives heads as they buried their faces into
their spouse’s chest. Some were crying out to call the
police. Others were screaming for someone to call a
Deanna watched the woman as she stood over the body of
her deceased husband.
The young woman’s arms fell limply at her sides. Her
hand slowly opened as the weapon fell from her fingers
landing beside the corpse. The young murderess stood
motionlessly, transfixing her eyes on the corpse that
lay beneath her feet, as the carpeted flooring quickly
absorbed the mass amount of blood.

Strong hands jerked the young woman from behind.
Looking as if she had been suddenly awakened from a
bad dream, she snapped back into the awareness of what
she had done, she began to scream hysterically,
recognizing the lifeless form on the floor. The police
quickly apprehended, trapping both hands behind her
back, they quickly snapped the handcuffs. The young
murderess was hysterical, as they led her away, her
agonizing screams echoed though out the lobby area.
The other uniformed officers began to quickly herd the
people out of the banquet room, directing them to
other parts of the hotel. In all of the mass
confusion, Deanna lost sight of Tilly. She stood for a
moment, pressing the palm of her hand against her
forehead wondering what to do.
Deanna kept bumping into various types and sizes of
people, frantically searching for Tilly through the
hysteria and anguished voices of the crowd.  Running
through the back of the kitchen area, she quickly
rounded a corner.  The weight of a large body slammed
into her, sending her small frame to the floor.
“Please forgi….” His words suddenly stopped, as he
stood there looking down at her. A lump formed in her
throat…all of the blood drained from her face. Fear
ran through her veins, her mouth became dry.  She
recognized the figure that was now towering over her.
It was Will.

CHAPTER 14  "The yacht club"

Riker stood mutely as she scrambled to her feet, he
made no attempt to assist her.  His steady focus was
transfixed on her face.  She stood for a moment and
stared back at him.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, breaking the
Please…. Please….” she stammered. “Leave me alone.”
“Back off Riker!” the rude shout of an officer
interrupted them. “Step away from the lady.” He
Riker immediately noticed the weapon in the huge burly
officer’s hand, and took a step backward away from
“Hands in the air.” He ordered.
Riker raised his hands up in the air.
The burly looking officer cautiously approached him.
His weapon still aimed and ready. “Against the wall.”
He barked.
Riker slowly turned around and laid his palms flat
against the wall.
“What are you stupid?” the officer asked smugly, as he
began to frisk Riker’s body.
“Yeah.” Riker replied directing his answer towards
Deanna. “I guess I’m real stupid.”
Riker winced as the officer shoved both of his hands
behind his back,
Snapping on handcuffs that he knew were too tight and
would cause pain to his prisoner.
Deanna stood there in silence. Her mind screamed for
her to leave, but instead she stood, as her body
trembled in fear.
“Are you okay, Mrs. Riker?” the officer asked.
“Yes, I think so.” She smiled, thankful for the
officer’s presence.
“You are a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” the
officer’s eyes moved up and down her petite body. “I’m
free later…if…” his arm reached up to gently touch her
face. Deanna suddenly flinched at his touch.
Riker immediately spun around and drove his huge form
into the officer’s chest.
“You son of a bit…” the officer slammed his fist into
Riker’s gut. Riker stumbled backward as his body
slammed into the wall. He felt another powerful neck
snapping blow as it slammed against his jaw.
Deanna watched in silent horror as the two men fought.
With both arms handcuffed behind him Riker rammed
again like a charging bull head first towards the
guard. The huge burly officer pushed Riker off of his
body, using the wall as leverage, sending him crashing
to the floor. With one quick step and a lift of his
leg, he kicked Riker with the toe of his boot, in the
groin area.
Riker winced in pain as the force of the kick sent his
large form backwards. Struggling to his feet, he
looked up at the guard, and smiled revealing that his
front teeth were covered in blood.
“All right, Stupid.” The burly officer struggled with
the words as he fought to level out his breath; “Do I
really have to beat the shit out of you?”
Riker glanced at Deanna for an instant, “Probably.” He
answered as he spit the blood out of his mouth and
glared at the officer.
Deanna noticed Riker’s blood on the floor. Something
snapped inside of her head. She suddenly jarred back
into reality.
Deanna suddenly screamed. “NO!” she looked at the
officer. “YOU’RE HURTING HIM!” she quickly ran in
front of Riker, thinking that possibly she could
protect him from the huge burly guard.
The officer blinked his eyes twice, at the sudden
change of this woman’s attitude. He studied her for a
brief moment before responding, “Can’t do that Miss.
He’s assaulted an officer.” He wiped his mouth with
the top of his hand. “Now please move out of the way.”
He took a step towards her.
In that moment of his first step, Deanna suddenly
became brave and ran around the officer grabbing his
weapon from the side of his belt.
With legs spread apart she aimed at the officer. “Let
him go.” She spat. With a nod of her head, she gave
the order. “Take those handcuffs off.”
“Now lady….” The man nervously looked at the tiny
woman with the weapon. “Can you really use that
thing?” he doubted her.
A shot suddenly rang through the air, grazing the
officer’s cheek. His head snapped back as he felt a
sting of oozing blood; he wiped his fingers against
the side of his face and looked down on his hand. The
bullet had grazed his face.
“The next one, I won’t miss.” Deanna declared in
Starfleet decorum. “Now let him go.” The burly man
stood there amazed at the tiny Betazoid. She walked
sideways as she kept the weapon and her gaze upon the
officer. “Handcuff him.” Her order was now directed
towards Riker. He stood there dumbfounded as he mutely
watched his wife suddenly take charge of the
situation. “Do it!” she snapped at her husband.
“Yeah, right.” He said quickly obeying. Not really
knowing if she would turn the weapon on him or not.


Riker and Troi quickly exited the kitchen area, taking
the servant’s elevator to their hotel suite. Once
inside their room, Deanna quickly locked the door.
Tossing the weapon on the bed, she looked at Riker
sternly and asked, “What was that all about?”
“You and that officer what was that all about?” She
stood with both hands on her hips. “What did you do
now, Will Riker?” she sounded scolding.
“Look, Deanna….” Riker was in no mood for games. “I’ve
known you for almost twenty years, right?”
“Yes.” She answered. “You’re evading my question,
“Damn it, Deanna.” He was frustrated and his mouth
hurt. “Has it ever entered into your mind that I would
abuse you?”
“What kind of question is that?” she looked at Will in
“Oh hell, I don’t know….one I have every right to
ask.” he said, not knowing where in the hell her
sudden memory loss was coming from. “First, I beat you
and then I raped you.” He glared at her as her mouth
dropped open, “And I’m not allowed to come within
fifty feet of you, if I do…. I go back to jail.” He
noticed her eyes as they widened. He headed towards
the bathroom to wash up, he turned in the doorway and
added, “Where our big handcuffing friend downstairs,
will probably hang me by the balls.”
“Back to jail…?” she asked in astonishment. “What are
you talking about Will?” she asked, walking towards
the bathroom doorway.
“What am I talking about.” He yelled at her reflection
that in the mirror.
“Deanna, damn it!  You had me arrested on abuse
charges!” he said as he washed his face.
“I did wha…” she leaned on the door trim.
“Hell, you even had photo’s.” he said under the towel
as he dried his face. “Ugly ones.”
“I don’t remember any bruises.” She inhaled a deep
breath and exhaled just as deeply…She couldn’t believe
what she was hearing.  She stiffly walked out of the
doorway and sat on the sofa that was in the room.
“I’m pretty pissed off at you right now.” he said as
he threw the hand towel down on the basin. “I mean….
Aren’t you afraid, I’ll beat you?”
Walking into the room, he noticed his wife sitting on
the sofa holding her head in her hands. “Gods, Will….
I’m so sorry. I don’t remember any of it.”

“What’s the last thing you do remember?” he asked
sitting down next to her.
“The last thing, I remember is going back for my bag.”
She recalled quietly. She cleared her throat. “You and
I were walking through the lobby and I went back for
my bag.” She looked up at him, he noticed that her
eyes were beginning to cloud with tears.
Riker frowned, as he sat there silently watching her.
There was no argument, his argument and anger faded
with each tear that fell from her huge dark eyes.
After studying her…he knew she was telling the truth.
He reached to touch her cheek, “Deanna, It’s all
right.” He whispered.
“No! No it’s not.” She jerked her face away from his
hand. The tears began to flow down her face. “You
spent God knows how long incarcerated.” She sobbed.
“You’re not even suppose to be here….” She rolled her
eyes, in between the tears at the absurdity of the
He suddenly pulled her body next to him in a tender
embrace, to silence her. He kissed the top of her
head. “Some hell of a vacation, huh?” He whispered.
She let out a chuckle in between the tears.
“What’s going on Will?” she cried, her cheek resting
against his broad shoulder.
“I don’t know, Deanna.” He inhaled and exhaled. “The
shooting downstairs, should keep the authorities
occupied for awhile.”
“Shooting?” she rose from his chest in astonishment.
“The young man with the brown curly hair….” He trailed
off, “Deanna you really don’t remember do you?”
“It felt as if I was in a stupor.” She quietly
answered, returning her cheek to his chest, “But,” she
added, “when I saw your blood on the floor, it’s as
if…. I suddenly snapped back into reality.”
“I sure as hell hope I don’t have to bleed, every
time you need to get your head on straight Deanna.” He
said, attempting to raise her spirits.
She raised her head slightly…and looked into his
eyes.“Are you all right?”
“I’m all right.” He lifted her chin up with his
finger, giving her a tender kiss. She kissed him back.
“Takes a lot more than a big burly ugly gorilla to get
me down, Deanna.”
The buzzer to the door sounded.
Riker let go of his embrace, “You’d better go hide.”
Deanna instructed him.  He reluctantly agreed as she
herded him towards the bathroom.
“Coming.” She yelled, dimming the lights in the room.
Opening the door, her eyes widened. Standing before
her was Charles, the dashing, debonair young man with
the bewitching eyes.
She suddenly took a step back into the room. He
followed, closing the door behind silently him.
“Deanna.” His soft deadly whisper echoed throughout
the room. “You didn’t obey me….” Deanna felt the cold
callousness to his voice; it sent shivers down her
spine.  “You didn’t kill him.”
“What do you want with me?” she could barely speak,
her voice was frozen in her throat.
“Kill him.” His head tilted slightly as he spoke, his
voice was deep and he was enjoying the fact that she
was terrorizing her.
“No.” she whispered her refusal.
He suddenly snatched at her wrist and squeezed it with
blinding force; she dropped with the pain, kneeling
down before him.
“Let me go! You’re hurting me! You’re hurting me!”
“Look!” He demanded, grabbing her by the chin with his
other hand and forcing her face to look into his.
“Look at me!” his voice rose in fury.
She shut her eyes tightly, part of her wishing this
nightmare would go away, the other part avoiding his
magical hypnotic stare. His face turned red with rage.

He raised his hand, intending to backhand her…
“Don’t do that.” He heard a warning voice from inside
the room, a voice that made him lower his arm.
Deanna’s mind began to race.
“And what’s going to stop me?” Charles’ black eyes
scanned the empty room. The steel clamp of his grip
tightened around Deanna’s wrist. She winced in pain.
“Death.” Riker replied, there was an unmistakable
absolute to the voice as it sounded loud and strong
across the darkened hotel suite.


He threw his evil head back and laughed, “Death?” his
voice took on a sudden regal stance. “You dare
threaten me.”
The room remained still, the silence was eerie.
Deanna looked out of the corner of her eye for the
weapon she had tossed on the bed earlier. It was gone.
She sighed through the pain, as his grip tightened
around her wrist, knowing that Will at least had a
Charles roughly raised Deanna to her feet, the crushed
her back against his chest. She felt the cold steel
blade as it laid across her throat.
~~~ Deanna? ~~ She heard the calm voice of her Imzadi
as he spoke through their link.
~~~ I’m okay. ~~
~~ Can you sense him? ~~ He quietly asked the question
in the midst of her thoughts.
~~ No, he’s blank to me. ~~
Shivering, Deanna stood firm as the knife blade wedged
itself between the man’s hand and her throat.
“Lights!” the voice across the room commanded the
suite computer.
The room became suddenly illuminated, it hurt Deanna’s
eyes as she blinked several times, attempting to
adjust to the sudden brightness.
Riker saw it as an opportunity the instant that their
eyes adjusted to the light change of the room. He
rolled across the floor and fired at Charles. The
bullet from the weapon whizzed past Charles’ ear.
Charles swung around, Deanna elbowed Charles in the
groin area and fled across the room out of the
madman’s clutches. Riker fired again. Charles was
quick, he dodge again, diving forward towards the
knife that lay on the floor.
Riker felt an adrenaline jolt rush through his body,
barely aware of his surroundings he ran full force and
tackled the dark figure with everything he had.
Charles let out a huge loud blast of air from his
lungs upon impact. Riker had the advantage because of
his weight, he was suddenly thankful for the extra
pounds that he had gained over the years. Charles was
strong, stronger than Riker had imagined, as the two
men struggled.
Out of nowhere a fist connected with Riker’s chin,
snapping his head back. He could taste his own blood
as it began to fill his mouth. Charles reached for the
knife, the silvery blade whirled through the air,
slashing out at him. Although Riker was still somewhat
dazed by the blow, he was quick to block the blade by
hitting the man’s arm with his fist. Riker again put
all of his weight into his fist and drove making a
rock hard blow making perfect contact with Charles’
nose. Charles’ staggered back…he stood dazed for an
instant. His eyes suddenly flashed red, resembling
animals eyes when bright light shines on them. He
growled and hissed like a cat, baring his teeth.

He tackled Riker and with amazing strength, he brought
him to the floor. Charles had both hands clasp around
Riker’s throat. Will’s face turned red as the
circulation of air through his windpipe collapsed from
the force of Charles grip. He was trapped. His body
twisted and strained but he could not free himself.

“I beat your wife.” He whispered. “Now it’s your
turn.” His voice sounded hollow.
The idea of this monster hitting Deanna suddenly gave
Riker the strength he needed to fight back. He reached
up and grabbed the man’s ears and pulled the sound of
cartilage tearing rang throughout the room. Riker then
reached for the knife that lay on the floor beside the
two men.
“You son of a bitch.” Riker swore. The thoughts of him
striking Deanna fresh in his mind, Riker took the
knife and slit the man’s throat, opening a huge gash
across his neck.  Blood sprayed out of the opening,
but yet it didn’t seem to stop him.  Charles screamed
in pain. He rared back his fist and with full force
hit Riker in the head, he was getting ready to strike
Riker in the head again.

When a deafening gunshot was heard, Charles froze.
Riker saw the darkened blood as it forcefully sprayed
out the other side of Charles’ head. Deanna had shot
the gun and blew a hole in the side of Charles’ head.
He fell over sideways and twisted and turned like a

Riker pushed the man off of him. He rose to his feet
as he grabbed onto his now reddened neck. He was
gasping, attempting to grab the much needed air from
the strangle hold Charles had on him.

Riker stood over the twitching body of Charles. He
glanced up and noticed Deanna as she made her way
slowly across the room, suddenly the images of the
holo-photos of his wife and the ugly bruises flashed
at lightening speed across his mind. He took a several
steps towards his wife. The now dying body of Charles
now let out its last breath, Riker still pumped by the
adrenaline that rushed through his body.  He
immediately removed the gun from her hand, he cocked
back the barrel aimed it a Charles’ head and fired
four bullets into the skull.  Charles’ head exploded
and came apart in pieces, splattering like a
watermelon being dropped from a high distance onto
“Will!” Deanna screamed, grabbing onto her husband’s
arm. Riker had every intention of unloading the gun
into the man’s body.  He stared at his wife briefly,
“That’s enough” she whispered, her voice brought him
back to reality and he limply dropped the gun, it
landed on the floor with a thud.

It was over.
Charles was dead, he would no longer hypnotize his
victims…or ever hurt another woman.
Deanna and Will would survive, they always did.  They
always would, as long as they had each other.