Disclaimer: Only a twisted and insane woman could write this plot, so
I'm pretty sure TPTB created the TNG family. No argument there,
they're all yours, but the twisted world i corrupt them in is mine
:-D ::isert insane cackle:::

Ebony Eyes

Ever had the feeling you're being watched? Well right now I swear I
can feel one pair definitely burning through to my skull. One pair of
beautiful onyx eyes, that I truly adore. But right now, anything but
their angry stare would be bearable, even one of Data's 20 minute
long poems.

And the worst thing about this? Hmmm, well strange it seems, but I
haven't the slightest idea of what's wrong, nor will she talk to me.
Just an all knowing glare that could be put to use rather than a
phaser to stun and disintegrate a man.

Maybe that's the problem, maybe I've done something "human" again.
Maybe I glanced too long at someone to be considered just a
commanderly hello. Hell, maybe I left my underwear in the wrong part
of our quarters. Strange how Deanna, and just about any other female
species, dread discarded clothing across the living room. But the
last time I looked, before I dragged my weary body outside of those
cabin doors, there wasn't a shread of clothing to be seen.

I must admit though, I was a little foggy this morning. I'd just
recovered from a pretty nasty away mission, that yea, went totally
haywire. Regardless of the fuss I made, Beverly still pumped me full
of some kind of shot last night before I collapsed on the sheets.

At least the effects have nearly worn off now, but I swear the phaser
shot I took to my behind is aching again. It's strange but I feel
kind of restricted downstairs this morning, as if everything has
grown, or too tight. But outgrowing your underwear in one day? Forget
it. Maybe it's just the swelling.

There she goes again, that look. What the hell have I done? That's
it, in two minutes I'm duty free and heading for cover. Think I'd be
safer if I doused myself in chocolate sundae? Would that save me?
Figure not, she'd eat me alive for sure.

::sigh::: Damn. The Captains looking at me now too. He's obviously
seen her burning glare. And seeing as I'm the end of the command
circle line, it could only be me she's got issues with. Sometimes I
think the Captain can read minds, probably more accurate than
Deanna's mother sometimes for sure. The all knowing smile gracing his
lips, as he glances back down to his control padd on the arm of his
chair, is a sign that he knows a war of words is about to be exchange
once behind private doors.

How did he put it one day? 'Man may just one day cease to exist the
day he thinks he is safe from the angry eyes of a woman.' He
remembered the Captain sharing those same words the day they saw
K'helyr, Worf's mate-to-be storm out of the Holodeck.

"Alpha shift complete." I call out, signifying the exchange of bridge
staff as the turbolift doors open and a fresh new crew step out.
Bright eyed and ready to go. Time to step off this bridge and meet my
doom guess.

Excusing myself from the Captain's presence, his replying nod and
smile wish me luck for sure. Giving my own lopsided but nervous smile
I leave. Each step taking me further away from safety. I make my way
to the turbo doors, and an echoing pair of footsteps follow my own,
double paced to catch my own. Shadowing me into the lift's interior,
carrying her baleful eye, Deanna keeps quiet as two lieutenants join
us.

Excusing themselves on deck six, we carry on to deck eight. Is it
getting hotter in here? The doors open and the long walk down to our
cabins seems like death row. Walking behind, never beside, she still
glares. What the hell did I do?

You'd think for an empath she'd of sensed my curiosity and fear by
now. Guess I'll find out the hard way in a second. Keying my door
open, I swear I've never seen her enter so quickly before, pushing me
aside to enter first.

Oh hell, she's turned and halted in the middle of my living quarters
now, hands on hips, I can't see anything awry. Here we go, she's
simmered, and now she's about to explode.

"William Riker! What the Hemalzac do you think you're playing at?"
She yells, fire licking each word.

"Me? Playing? You're the one that's been tanning my epidermis all day
with those eyes." I say this tiredly. It's been a long day and all I
want to do is get out of these restrictive clothes and dive under the
sheets to oblivion.

"Is this some kind of poker dare you made with Geordi and Worf, and
lost?" She points to my trousers, drawing me to look down and see
nothing unusual. I can already feel my left eyebrow rising to the
occasion. Unaware that to look bemused or befuddled is not the answer
she is seeking.

"A dare? Deanna what are you talking about?" I closed my eyes and
pinch the bridge of my nose, glad that the walls and doors are sound
proof.

She stays silent, most likely reading me. Moments pass and I change
my stance, trying adjust without looking too uncomfortable. A small
smile appears at first until a full belly laugh enraptures her.

"What?" That's it, I'm going.

"You haven't realised have you?" She giggles, halting my exit left to
the bedroom.

"Realise what?" I rub a temple and wait for the rest of her revelation.

"Will take off your trousers." She demands. One minute she wants to
fry me the next she wants to....think it's safe to undress before her
right now?

Her second prompt and I finally comply. Lifting up my uniform tunic I
reach for my trouser clasps and undo them shoving the material down
my legs to something down right confusing. "What the hell!" I mutter
as the answer to her anger greets me.

"How much medication DID Beverly give you Will?" She giggles as she
points in my general 'sorry for myself' direction.

I swear there are some mornings that being the Executive Officer of
the Flag ship can't save you from. Aristocratic Ambassadors, Borg and
the wrong choice of underwear. How the hell did I do this?

"So when did you start wearing my underwear Will and is this an
ongoing habit?" She teases. There I am, trousers to my ankles,
wearing the most agonising pair of silky white knickers.

Why I didn't notice isn't clear, other than they pinched like hell
all day. What did Beverly give me?!? "Think I can borrow a can opener
to get me out?" I jest, slapping my head at my own stupidity.

Her last words before she laughingly vanishes into the bedroom,
gasping for air, turn me redder than my own tunic. Do I want her
matching bra aswell!

Well all I can say boys is, we're in for a hell of a ride tonight,
and that's not just getting out of the confines I put you in, but the
way Deanna is now smiling at me from the bedroom. Beckoning me in as
she leans against the doorway, swinging that matching white silky bra
around her little finger.

Would I do this again for her expense? Never. But I'd sure like to
remove these white silkies myself, but from her next time. But never
fear there's a sure way this will happen, but not right now. For now,
it's just her and me, sweet dreaming in those ebony eyes.

The "ouch" end