Author's Note: Ahhh! Thank you all so much! I was a wee bit nervous about dropping something this silly – but I'm glad it was well received.
This will be the conclusion of this practical joke storyline – complete with plenty of hijinks and innuendo. We'll be back to our regularly scheduled fluff/angst/action balance in the next chapter!
I've got plans for a few more chapters along the same vein of humour that will be peppered in throughout the series to balance some of the heavy material. I think you guys are really going to enjoy The B Squad, The Toddler Taco Replicator Fiasco, and Coach T & Worf.
-X-
"Data," Tasha said, relieved that he was alright.
Captain Picard set Data down on the table.
Tasha wanted to reach out and grab him, but she knew it wasn't the time.
"Sir, Worf is missing," Tasha reported.
"Mr Worf is currently on a shuttlecraft that's being towed by our inertia," Picard informed them in a terse voice.
They were traversing across a safe part of space and deep within Federation territory. There was no serious risk to Worf in theory – but they all knew that on this ship anything was possible.
"I hate to think what might have happened had we encountered a quantum filament or a Romulan warship!" Picard barked.
"Is Worf alright?" Geordi asked, concerned.
"I am fine," Worf grumbled as he stepped into the room.
Without another word, Worf slipped into his customary seat around the table.
"For the last two weeks I have tolerated these practical jokes," Captain Picard began.
On the whole, Captain Picard thought this kind of harmless fun was good for morale. But the behaviour was escalating and being woken up so rudely, Jean-Luc had reached his limit.
"But blasting music through the ship's communication system is a step too far!" Picard fumed. "While you lot may find this all funny, we have families! A nursery! People working in their labs right now!"
Everyone dropped their eyes to the surface of the table as they took their verbal lashing.
It was certainly deserved.
"Sir, I believe whoever did this used some kind of field to target just us," Geordi said. "When I left my quarters, the sound wasn't piping through the corridor. It was just in my quarters."
"Same here," Miles chimed in.
The Captain relaxed a little and sat down in his chair.
"Well, it's certainly relieving to know that not everyone was subjected to this rude awakening," Picard said. "Regardless, I'm still not pleased."
The team remained silent.
"I do not recall asking to be a part of whatever charade is going on here," Picard remarked.
"None of us did," Beverly said as her eyes narrowed in on Riker.
"Well I didn't ask to be a part of this either!" Riker insisted.
Beverly glared.
"Don't you think this has gone far enough?" Deanna asked aloud.
"I'm not the joker," Riker asserted. "Doctor, look at me! Do you think I would do this to myself?"
"Wouldn't be the first time," Geordi added.
Everyone started arguing again.
"Enough!" Picard said, raising his voice.
The whole table fell silent.
"I don't care what you do amongst yourself or how you resolve this," Picard said.
He took a breath to steady his nerves.
"But resolve it fast," Picard requested calmly before adding a caveat. "Without involving me or anyone else."
-X-
For the rest of the day, everyone was on edge.
There were no additional pranks or jokes. Miles hadn't found any oatmeal anywhere. There had been no phony calls, missing tools, or loose saltshakers.
By the time their shifts had finished, everyone was on edge.
After hours without any incident, each of the senior officers was looking over their shoulders, checking the seats, and watching their steps.
"Everything alright?" Riker asked.
Deanna jumped.
She had cautiously opened the door to her quarters and was using a tricorder to scan for anything before stepping through the door.
Deanna turned on her heel and gave him a sharp look.
"Deanna, I think whoever is behind this is probably going to lie low after this morning," Riker said.
He couldn't imagine the real culprit would be bold enough to pull another prank so soon following their reprimand from the Captain.
"Gotta admit though, it's a little spooky," Riker added.
"What is?" Deanna asked.
"Waiting," Riker explained. "Who knows when they're going to strike next? Leaves me feeling uneasy."
"Right," Deanna agreed.
She had to admit that he had a point.
It was the perfect plan – put everyone on high alert and then get a laugh watching them walk on eggshells, peeking around corners and jumping at the slightest sound.
"Want me to come in and help you keep watch?" Riker offered with a smirk.
"I think I'd rather be alone with a cup of hot cocoa," Deanna replied. "In any case, it's girls' night."
Riker nodded in understanding.
"Are we still on for the concert?" Riker asked, leaning against the doorframe.
Deanna crossed her arms. She rocked her head back and forth as she weighed his proposal.
Riker pouted a little in an attempt to persuade her.
"Yes," she relented.
-X-
"It's been so nice," Beverly said.
Deanna and Tasha looked up from their game for an explanation.
"No pranks. No scares. And tomorrow, all of us should be back to our own lovely colours," Beverly smiled.
She tipped her head back and took a swig of her wine.
"Doesn't it make you both a little uneasy?" Tasha asked. "Maybe I'm too paranoid, but why do I get the sinking feeling this is far from over?"
"Don't say that," Beverly pleaded.
Tasha shrugged.
"I mean, whoever did this isn't just going to stop. They've got to get their kicks somewhere," Tasha said as she picked up the dice.
After giving them a thorough shake, she rolled.
"Bum luck," Tasha said, resigning herself that tonight was not her night.
She glanced at her lousy hand.
Definitely not! She laughed to herself.
After discarding two cards, Tasha drew two replacements.
Deanna's thoughts drifted back to Will's comment from earlier that was along a similar vein.
"Tasha has a point, psychologically this person is looking for an outlet. An escape from the monotony," Deanna advised. "Whoever it is will need something to replace the loss of that thrill."
Beverly pulled herself up from the sofa to grab a new bottle of wine.
"Do you want to trade for your farm colony tiles?" Deanna inquired.
"What do you got?" Beverly asked as she jammed the corkscrew into position.
They were playing a strategy game called Star Colonizer.
Deanna was always at an advantage whenever they played this game. She could sense exactly what Beverly and Tasha needed.
"I'll give you two water rations and a medic," Deanna offered.
Beverly pulled the cork out with an audible 'pop' and a satisfactory 'ha!'
"Not a chance!" Beverly replied.
She returned a moment later with the bottle of wine and a plate of snacks.
"It's part of my long-term strategy," Beverly explained as she sat back down.
"But you need a medic!" Deanna protested.
"I knew you were cheating," Tasha commented as she gave Deanna a look over the top of her cards.
"Then why are you still covering your cards?" Deanna retorted.
Tasha knew Deanna wasn't really cheating. She couldn't see their cards – but she could sense where their thoughts lie.
Beverly tried to open a jar of pickles – real pickles from Earth - and found the lid was too tight.
"Here," Tasha said, motioning for her to hand it over.
Beverly handed the jar over and Tasha started to try and loosen the lid.
"Boy this is on tight," Tasha grunted.
"Skip arm day?" Beverly teased.
Tasha froze and cocked her head to the side as she studied Beverly.
"What?" Beverly asked.
"Why is the lid so tight?" Tasha asked.
Beverly rolled her eyes.
"You can't think I did anything to them," Beverly said. "I brought them from my quarters. They're fine!"
Tasha set the jar back down on the table and eyed Beverly sceptically.
"So we skip the pickles," Deanna said, trying to ease the tension between them.
She picked up the plate and offered it to both of them.
"Try these raspberry truffles," Deanna offered.
Beverly and Tasha glanced over at Deanna. Beverly frowned. Tasha's eyes narrowed.
Deanna sighed and set the tray down.
"Look at us," she said. "We're all so worried about the next prank, now we're questioning each other!"
Everyone relaxed.
"You're right, I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking," Tasha apologised.
"It's fine. We're all nervous," Beverly replied.
Beverly grabbed the bottle of wine and refreshed everyone's drink.
The three friends agreed to cut the game short. They'd rather talk anyway.
"So, Circle of Secrecy," Beverly said, enacting their pact of confidentiality. "Have you talked to Riker, Deanna? I mean, is he OK?"
"Will's going out of his mind with boredom," Deanna shared. "I can't blame him, though. Work is his life."
For almost three weeks the Enterprise had been on a routine stellar cartography mission mapping part of the Muratas Star Cluster. They were flying through the area on a routine grid pattern. Aside from training exercises, there hadn't been much for the crew to do.
"Do you think he's finally got his fill of fun?" Tasha asked.
Deanna shrugged.
"He did seem sincerely bothered that the Captain had been targeted this morning," Deanna said. "But that might have just been guilt."
"Well, in any case, we'll be back to ourselves tomorrow and hopefully that will be the end of it," Beverly said.
"Cheers," Deanna said, raising her glass.
"Sláinte," Tasha said, joining the toast.
"Salud," Beverly added.
The three toasted and took a drink.
All three of them froze.
Beverly covered her mouth.
Tasha forced herself to choke it down – and instantly felt like she wanted to vomit.
Deanna spat the liquid back into her glass.
"Sorry," Deanna said.
Beverly got up and ran for the sink, spitting the liquid out and then rinsing her mouth.
"Tasha?" Deanna inquired.
She looked green.
Tasha pointed to the lavvy door and made a hasty exit just in time to avoid gracing Deanna's carpet with the contents of her stomach.
Beverly sniffed the bottle and made a face.
"This is tequila," Beverly said.
Deanna couldn't stand tequila. Beverly loved it – but not without lime and salt and certainly not when she was expecting pinot grigio.
Tasha had more than enough bad memories (or lack thereof to be specific) that she had sworn it off years earlier. Just the smell was enough to make her gag.
"I've had it," Deanna declared.
"Why would he do this?" Beverly demanded. "How did he do this?"
"I don't care how or why," Deanna remarked. "He needs to be stopped."
"We ought to strike back," Beverly said.
The door to Deanna's lavvy opened.
"No," Tasha said as she appeared in the doorframe.
Beverly's shoulders slumped.
"You're probably right. I just wanted-" Beverly began.
"We shouldn't strike back," Tasha clarified. "We should finish him."
-X-
Will Riker sighed contently in his sleep.
He was warm.
And comfortable.
And there was a pleasant aroma of Raktajino wafting into his nostrils.
Riker inhaled deeply, enjoying the nutty scent of the morning brew.
Is this a dream? Riker pondered.
It certainly seemed all too real to be a figment of his imagination.
"Mmmmm," Riker keened as he felt a familiar hand stroke his hair.
"Trying to hang onto a dream?" Deanna asked softly.
"I'd rather hang onto you," Riker replied in a hazy voice.
He rolled over and tried to reach for her but found himself trapped.
Commander Riker suddenly had the feeling he was being watched.
He opened his eyes and smiled nervously.
"Good morning," Beverly said with a bright smile.
Commander Riker was lying on his back. He propped himself up on his elbows as he took stock of his situation.
He was lying on one of the camp cots they used for overnight away missions. And he was in Deanna's quarters where her coffee table was usually located.
He glanced under the blanket and realised he was nude.
"I've had dreams like this," Riker laughed uncomfortably.
He flashed a weak smile to the trio. Deanna was sitting next to him on her favourite chair. Beverly was on the opposite side on the sofa. Tasha was sitting at the end of his cot.
"Why do I get the feeling this isn't one of them?" Riker asked.
"Aww, there's no need to be shy with your doctor," Beverly assured him.
Riker tried to pull the blanket up over his chest. It didn't budge.
He gave another tug and discovered it was secured to the sides of the cot.
"Um, ladies," Riker said as he struggled to extract the blanket.
The three of them sat quietly as they sipped their Raktajino.
"You know I wasn't solely responsible for your little colour swap," Riker said. "They were all in on it!"
"But you were the mastermind," Deanna threw back at him. "And you were the one that started all of this."
Riker's shoulders slumped.
"Don't look so blue," Tasha said. "We've done that for you."
Deanna gave him one of her handheld mirrors.
"Oh," Riker said as he took in the new blue hue of his hair. "Guess I should be grateful I don't have a beard."
He nodded, accepting his fate.
"Does this mean our date for the concert is off?" Riker asked Deanna.
"Of course not," Deanna assured him.
Riker ran his hand back through his hair as he evaluated it.
"Seventy-two hours," Beverly said. "Except I'm not sure if it's quite the same for your armpits."
Riker lifted his right arm and fell back against the pillow laughing.
He raised his other arm and discovered a second tuft of blue hair.
Riker couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.
All of a sudden, he was struck by a thought.
Riker lifted the blanket and took a peek underneath.
"Don't flatter yourself," Deanna said.
"Just checking," Riker replied with a twinkle in his eye. "After all, you lot didn't seem to have any qualms about stripping me down."
"Not me," Beverly said. "I just gave you the hypospray and new colour."
Riker glanced down at Tasha.
She shook her head.
"I carried you up here," Tasha explained.
"And I glued the sheet, sunshine," Deanna concluded.
"So who did the honours?" Riker inquired.
"Oh, that's what we called Worf for," Tasha explained.
"Good morning, Commander," Worf said as he took a seat by Tasha.
He had a second, fresh cuppa Raktajino in hand that he offered to Riker.
"Thanks, Benedict Arnold," Riker said, taking the Klingon coffee.
"Do not mention it," Worf responded.
There was nothing Riker could do but laugh as Worf and Tasha shared a small fist bump.
"Well, anytime you want to give me my uniform, I'll get out of your hair," Riker said.
Beverly snapped her fingers.
"I knew there was something I forgot to grab," Tasha remarked as she brought her hand up to forehead, feigning a slip of memory.
"Lend me a dressing gown?" Riker pleaded, turning to Deanna.
She took a long sip of her coffee.
"Fresh out," Deanna shrugged.
"Then it looks like you have a new roommate, Imzadi," Riker grinned.
"But we have a date tonight!" Deanna gasped in mock surprise.
Will Riker was certainly not embarrassed about his body. He had a reputation for taking his vacations on Risa at a resort that was famous for its 'no clothes' policy.
But he wasn't about to go walk through the corridors with nothing more than a charming smile and his sparkling personality.
"Sorry, but without something to wear, there is nothing that's going to get me to move out of this spot," Riker vowed.
The Red Alert Klaxons began to sound.
"All senior officers report to the Bridge," Captain Picard's voice said.
The five officers exchanged a dark look.
Tasha, Worf, Deanna, and Beverly raced out of the room.
Duty. A Starfleet officer's life is filled with solemn duty. Riker reminded himself as he reflected on one of Captain Picard's favourite quotes.
Summoning his strength, Will crawled out of the cot. He slipped into Deanna's bedroom and grabbed one of her dressing gowns off the hook.
Unfortunately, it was a rather short, sheer one – made worse by their size difference.
Cinching the tie around his waist, Riker rushed out into the corridor where he was greeted with applause.
He glanced around in astonishment.
The corridor was packed.
"Sorry, Commander," Wesley shrugged. "They made me do it."
He was holding the device he had built that allowed him to modulate voices and other ship sounds.
"Now that's tasteful without being gaudy," Guinan smirked as she indicated to his sheer attire.
Riker waved to the crowd. He backed toward the door.
Holding the back of his dressing gown, Riker grinned and took a very careful bow.
-X-
Captain Picard met Beverly outside of her office as they headed for the concert.
"Doctor," Picard said with a smile.
True to Riker's word, their little hair colour switch had only lasted seventy-two hours. Beverly was back to being his favourite red-headed physician.
"It's nice everything's back to normal. And that everyone is back to normal. No crazy colours," Picard mused as he stepped into Ten Forward.
As he sat down, Jean-Luc did a double-take at the sight of Commander Riker's blue hair.
"Tell me you didn't," he said under his breath to Beverly.
"Would I lie to you, sir?" Beverly replied innocently.
"And that's why you aren't answering the question," Jean-Luc said, biting back a smirk.
He had to admit, it was certainly a harmless form of payback. And, in his opinion, one that Riker had earned after all his practical jokes.
"Hey," Tasha said.
She sat down next to Captain Picard. He was relieved to see she was back to blonde.
"You decided to go back?" Beverly asked.
It was an intentional question – one designed to tease the Captain.
"Yeah, as fun as it was, this just feels better," Tasha replied.
"Am I late?" Geordi asked as he slipped in next to Beverly.
"Right on time," Beverly replied.
The evening's entertainment was a small ensemble that had been put together by Chief O'Brien. A gifted cellist, Miles had a talent for music.
However, he wasn't playing the cello in this particular troupe. Tonight, Miles was playing the French horn.
He was joined by Keiko on the clarinet, Data on the oboe, Lieutenant Hawk and his alto sax, and Sonya Gomez on the flute.
Classical music wasn't quite Tasha's cuppa tea, but she was happy to show up and support Data.
It was a complicated piece that began with the woodwinds before Miles would join with long, sweet notes from his French horn.
As the first few measures concluded, Miles took a deep breath and prepared to enter.
Miles blew and nothing came out.
He blew harder and was horrified when a large lump of oatmeal shot out the end of his horn and splattered the front row of the crowd – spraying Beverly, Tasha, and Geordi.
The ensemble fell silent.
All across the room, no one wanted to be the first person to laugh.
But it was hard not to as Miles sat there wide-eyed and mortified.
In a matter of seconds, what had started as snickers and choked back laughter became a full-on ruckus. Commander Riker threw his head back and roared with laughter, wiping away tears.
"I want to go on the record here and now. I didn't do this," he managed to choke out through a fit of laughter.
A line of oatmeal-covered faces turned and gave Riker a look.
"I didn't!" Riker maintained.
"He's telling the truth," Deanna chimed in.
It was clear this time – and more than just a feeling.
"I was with Commander Riker all day. He was never alone," Deanna explained.
After their little dish of revenge, Deanna had invited Will to breakfast. They got working on reviewing some of the psychological profiles for new crew members and had wound up spending the whole day together in Will's office.
There was no way possible he could have snuck out to set up this particular prank.
"Then our culprit remains at large," Picard mused.
Normally, Jean-Luc adored a good mystery – but not in this case.
"Captain?" Beverly asked as he got up.
"I'm going to my quarters. Alone. The only place I feel safe," Jean-Luc muttered.
-X-
Tasha nibbled at the side of Data's neck.
When that failed to produce any kind of reaction, she decided to try another approach. She snaked her hand up under his sleep shirt.
They were sitting on the sofa in his quarters. Following a de-oatmealing shower, they were planning to read together.
Reading had led to snuggling.
Which eventually had turned into a kiss and cuddle initiated by Data.
Despite being the driving force behind the change in activities, Data was now distracted. Tasha suspected it was because of the concert.
Tasha nipped at the pulse point on his neck.
When that failed to pull him out of his slump, Tasha decided to confront the matter directly.
"What's eating you?" Tasha asked.
"At the moment, you are," Data replied.
Tasha grinned against his chest.
"Clever," Tasha said.
"I have been told that before," Data responded.
"Mmm, I was thinking since you like the red so much I might try pink," Tasha lied, hoping to catch his attention.
"Oh," Data replied, lost in thought.
Tasha paused at sat back in Data's lap as she looked to him.
She could always tell when his mind was preoccupied.
"Data?" Tasha prompted.
"I apologise. My neural net is preoccupied with the identity of our mysterious joker," Data confessed.
"We were only responsible for Riker's blue hair. I promise you," Tasha insisted.
Data nodded in understanding.
While he had initially suspected the women were responsible for the other pranks – including his own incident with the glue and the chair, Data now believed they were dealing with someone else.
"I theorise our trickster is not Commander Riker. The perpetrator has a deep understanding of our ship's operations," Data said. "I know it could not be you as you lack the technical skills necessary to accomplish such pranks."
Data's eyes widened, realising how harsh his comment had sounded as soon as the words had left his mouth.
"I did not mean-" Data began to say.
"How would you like a swift kiss on the mouth?" Tasha asked in mock indignation.
"I will gladly submit to such a punishment," Data replied.
-X-
The next morning, Data was up early to get a head start on some personal projects in his lab. After completing his morning routine, Data grabbed a clean uniform from his wardrobe.
Slipping it on, Data could immediately tell there was something wrong.
He cocked his head to the side as he analysed precisely what was the problem.
Something felt off.
It was almost as if his uniform didn't fit correctly
Checking the wardrobe, Data was confirmed that he had, in fact, grabbed his own uniform and not the spare one Tasha kept in his quarters.
Data tugged at the fabric. It was just a hair too big for him – a bit baggy.
He considered that it was possible, though unlikely, that there had been some kind of problem with the garment replicator. Procuring a second uniform, Data stripped out of the other one and tossed it onto the bed.
He pulled on the second uniform and found himself facing the exact same issue.
Data next checked the garment replicator settings and determined that they were properly calibrated to his size. Everything seemed to check out.
Next, Data conducted an internal scan to determine if there was any change in his body composition.
It took him 2.87 seconds to complete such a scan.
Data raised his eyebrows as he concluded his analysis.
His legs were still 87.2 centimetres in length.
It was possible that there was a problem with his internal scanning capabilities – a matter he could explore further in the lab.
However, before going to such lengths, Data wanted to ensure that it was not an issue with the replicator.
He triple-checked the settings, power supply, and circuits. There did not appear to be any problems with the unit.
As he slipped on the third uniform, Data was confronted with the same problem.
The door to the lavvy slid open and Tasha stepped out with her hair wrapped in a towel.
"Having trouble deciding what to wear?" Tasha teased as she spied the uniforms on the bed.
Data spun around. Right away, Tasha could tell there was something weighing on his mind.
"What is it?" she prompted.
"My size," Data said with a worried look. "Am I small?"
Tasha blinked a few times as she tried to process his question.
She certainly hadn't been expecting that.
Tasha found herself at a loss for words. She reminded herself that in addition to their joint counselling sessions with Deanna, Data had his own individual counselling sessions.
And she understood that Data was still working through discovering himself. Tasha didn't want to discourage that.
When she did answer, Data assumed she misunderstood his question.
"In your opinion, am I...smaller?" Data inquired.
He looked down and motioned to his body with his hands.
Tasha grinned and stepped forward.
"I don't know what your father was compensating for, but he was clearly compensating for something," Tasha smirked as her fingers brushed across his abdomen.
"I-I-I meant my size," Data clarified.
"I know what you meant," Tasha said as pressed against him.
"But I feel like-," Data began.
"Believe me you have no reason to feel inadequate," Tasha assured him.
"Tasha-" Data protested.
He stopped her hand just before it could drop any lower.
"My uniform is too big," Data explained. "But I can diagnose no issue with the replicator. Nor did my internal scan indicate any change in my size."
"Oh," Tasha said, suddenly understanding.
Tasha bit her lip.
"I think you've been pranked," Tasha said softly.
-X-
An hour later, Data and Geordi were in his lab. Data was seated on the tall chair at his workbench. The side of his cranial unit was open as Geordi, Data, and Wesley tried to figure out what could have caused Data's wardrobe issues.
"What are getting back there, Wes?" Geordi asked as he fed the output cable into the diagnostic tool.
Wes scrunched up his face as he analysed the readings.
"I'm not detecting anything out of place," Wesley replied, looking up from the screen.
Wes shrugged.
According to their readings, everything checked out in Data's system.
It provided some piece of mind. At the very least, Data was comforted in knowing that there was no issue with his neural net.
"Why don't we take a look at the garment replicator?" Geordi suggested.
-X-
"Are you losing weight, Data?" Riker asked as he spied Data's baggy uniform.
"That is not possible, sir," Data responded. "My size is constant."
Data shuffled the cards and then began to deal.
The senior officers were all seated around the table in Deanna's quarters for the weekly poker night. Some of them had been sceptical about getting together given all the recent pranks.
But Deanna had thought it would be a good idea to go forward with it.
Whoever was behind the practical jokes was clearly looking for an outlet – and Deanna could think of nothing better than a fun night of poker with the gang.
Beverly had made a tray of sandwiches. Worf had baked a chocolate Raktajino cake. Geordi had made his famous crunchy party mix and Miles was mixing drinks.
Commander Riker flipped over his hand and was pleased to see had been dealt the ace of spades and the ace of hearts.
It was a good start to the game.
Across the table, Tasha was watching everyone with keen interest. She scanned the group, studying their micro expressions looking for any of the common tells of her comrades.
Whenever Beverly crossed and uncrossed her legs, it was a signal that she had a good hand.
Miles scratched the side of his neck and then took a deep breath. Seemed the Chief was also off to a good start.
Tasha glanced down at her own hand – the ace of diamonds and the ace of clubs.
To her surprise, Data began to ask Commander Riker a series of questions unrelated to poker. Anytime Data had a favourable hand, he would initiate conversation about anything other than poker.
"Commander, in your experience do you find the Germanic-inspired cuisine of Rootien VIII or the Nordic-inspired cuisine of the neighbouring Waurdron VI more preferable?" Data inquired.
They were going to be passing near both planets in the coming days.
Tasha bit back a smirk.
Data wasn't nearly as subtle as he thought – and everyone suspected he had a good hand.
Seems they were in for a four-way race.
"Data, you haven't lived until you've spent an afternoon gorging on Wollwurst and Dampfnudeln," Riker said as he kissed his fingers.
He turned and looked at Deanna fondly.
"Do you remember that trip we took?" Riker asked.
"I remember the chocolate," Deanna recalled with a grin.
Riker leaned back in and rested his elbows on the table.
"They've got this fantastic chocolate factory you can tour. They make everything by hand!" Riker explained.
To Data's delight, he described their trip to the planet. It was like a little slice of Bavaria in the middle of the sector.
"Stop. I'm getting cravings," Deanna warned.
"Top five places I've ever been to," Riker declared.
"I'll take two," Tasha said as she held up two fingers.
She tossed two cards down into the discard pile and picked up the two new cards that Data had dealt her.
It took all of her training not to react.
Two more aces! She thought with a rush of excitement.
Tasha couldn't believe her luck.
To her delight, Worf upped the ante – raising the stakes by tossing in two more red poker chips.
After another round, no one had dropped.
Everyone was on edge and eyeing one another carefully.
It was unusual for their game to be so tense.
There was a bead of perspiration on Geordi's forehead as he weighed his options. Miles shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
Worf was sitting so stiffly he could have passed for a statue.
When it was her turn again, Tasha discarded the lonely three of clubs she'd been dealt initially. Data passed her a new card.
Tasha frowned.
"Ah! Is this the first crack?" Riker asked with a grin.
Everyone around the table had been eagerly waiting for the first person to fold.
"No, we've got a problem," Tasha announced.
"No problem here," Worf retorted.
Tasha laid down her cards to show the table – she had five aces.
Miles's face fell.
"Well doesn't that just take the cake," he grumbled as he tossed his cards down.
He had four aces.
"Best ruddy hand I've had in weeks," Miles said as he sat back and crossed his arms.
"It would seem we have been had," Worf chimed in.
He laid his cards down on the table and revealed that he was also holding four aces.
"It was fun to dream," Geordi sighed.
Everyone had been holding four aces.
"Who wants to play Monopoly?" Riker suggested.
-X-
As it turned out, Monopoly was not a popular suggestion. Miles insisted they play something where that involved no parts or pieces – he wanted to eliminate any opportunity for the trickster to get them.
They had finally agreed upon charades.
Worf and Tasha were killing it. Commander Riker and Geordi were in second place. Miles and Doctor Crusher weren't doing too bad.
But Deanna and Data were struggling to rack up points.
After a minute of guessing with no results, it was open season for anyone to try and guess what Data was acting out.
"Painting!" Miles cried out.
"I already guessed that," Deanna said.
"Art?" Beverly asked.
Data shook his head.
"How many syllables?" Riker asked.
Data held up one finger.
"One!" Geordi cried.
Data held up five fingers.
"Five?" Worf asked.
Data simultaneously held up one finger on his right hand and five on his left hand.
"Fifteen," Beverly said slowly.
Data nodded excitedly.
Now we are getting somewhere! Data thought with excitement.
Everyone paused as they began to count out different ideas on their fingers.
"Watercolour painting?" Tasha guessed.
Data scrunched up his face.
"Tasha, that is seven syllables," Data commented.
Tasha shrugged. She was completely at a loss for ideas at this point.
"And that's time," Riker said as the little sand hourglass ran out.
"Twenty-fourth Century Andorian Expressionism," Data said as if it were something as simple as 'guitar' or 'tennis.'
The room was crickets.
"The category was hobbies," Beverly said.
"Only you," Miles said with a small salute.
"Have I done something wrong?" Data asked as he surveyed the room.
"No, not at all," Tasha assured him.
-X-
The next morning, Data got up and got ready for the day. To his surprise, his uniform seemed to be too small.
There wasn't much room to manoeuvre. It was tight across the chest and in the shoulders.
As Data stepped in front of the mirror, he realised quickly there was no way he was going to be able to wear this for his shift. Their uniforms were already relatively slim fitting.
The stranger part of all of this was that they had spent the night in Tasha's quarters.
He had produced this particular garment from her garment replicator.
"Something wrong?" Tasha asked.
She was leaning in the doorway with a cuppa tea and watching Data check himself out in the mirror.
Data turned around and raised his eyebrows.
"Am I...bigger?" Data asked.
Tasha choked on her tea before composing herself.
"If you keep asking me questions like that I'm going to think you've got a complex," Tasha teased.
"I cannot wear this," Data said. "My uniform is too tight."
"Looks pretty good from where I'm standing," Tasha remarked.
The corner of Data's mouth curved upward as he averted his eyes to the floor. She had a way of making him feel bashful like that.
"Come on, I'll get you a new one," Tasha offered.
-X-
They spent the third night in Tasha's quarters again. Data had been on Night Watch and had slipped into bed around 04:00 hours after his shift had ended.
He was able to get a few hours of rest in before Tasha's alarm had gone off.
Tasha was sitting out at the table reading through the news when she heard the door to her bedroom slide open.
Data stepped out into the main room of her quarters and Tasha paused.
She couldn't help but laugh.
"It would seem we have a security breach," Data said as he raised his arms.
The sleeves were so long they hung off over his hands.
Glancing down to his feet, Tasha chortled as she saw the fabric pooled there.
"Come here, we'll roll them up and tuck them in your boots," Tasha explained.
When he arrived on the Bridge an hour later, Captain Picard did a double take as he saw Data's jumpsuit tucked inside his boots.
It was certainly permitted per uniform code – although it was an unusual choice.
-X-
Data wasn't the only one that had been hit by the shadowy practical joker.
Over the last three days all of the senior staff had been hit with a fresh round of pranks. Someone had replaced all of Worf's cedar scented meditation candles with joke candles that wouldn't light.
Geordi's toolbox had been replaced with edible candy tools.
Beverly had turned up in Sickbay to find her entire office had been coated in wrapping paper.
And Miles's oatmeal shenanigans had been replaced with cotton candy coming out all over.
For three days, Commander Riker had been chasing down every lead, tracking the movements of the senior officers, and keeping track of all the pranks to try and suss out the trickster.
"Working on your next act?" Guinan asked.
"Trying to find out the identity of our practical joker," Riker replied.
He was sitting at the bar in Ten Forward. His old fashioned had sat untouched for the last ten minutes as Riker poured through his notes.
He couldn't seem to nail down any pattern to the pranks. Riker also suspected that the prankster knew he was onto them – and was taking steps to mitigate Riker's investigation.
"Guinan, do you have thoughts on who's behind this? You see so much, surely you must have suspicion?" Riker inquired.
"I've seen 'em all," Guinan said with a casual shrug. "But I'll give whoever it is credit – they're certainly creative."
-X-
Across the ship, Deanna was just settling in for the night. She was going to head to bed early after an exhausting day of catching up on paperwork.
As a social creature, Deanna far preferred verbal communication over written form.
Her eyes were tired, and her brain was exhausted.
She sat down at her vanity and prepared to go through her evening routine.
After brushing her hair, Deanna opened the bottom drawer on her dresser. Without looking she reached in and found it was wet.
Deanna closed her eyes and sighed.
Fortunately, it didn't feel like thick enough liquid to be chocolate sauce.
After steadying her nerves, she glanced down at the drawer only to discover that it was full of water and goldfish.
Deanna snagged a dry flannel. She opened the next drawer up to see where her skincare products had been moved to.
The only thing inside the next drawer was a small bottle of fish flakes and a note.
Please feed them twice a day!
-X-
Down on deck seventeen, Miles was just returning from an evening playing darts in Ten Forward with Geordi and Reg Barclay.
He rolled his shoulder around a few times to work out some of the pain from overuse of his arm.
Miles was looking forward to a hot shower and a cold pint.
He stepped into his quarters and froze.
"Jaysus," Miles said as he surveyed the room.
It was completely empty.
All of his furniture was gone. His art was stripped from the walls. His favourite football pennant for the Finglas Firebrands had disappeared.
At the very least, he didn't need to worry about his bed turning into a bowl of oatmeal.
Miles headed toward the door to his lavvy. He took three steps and stopped as there was sickening crunching noise underfoot.
Bending down, Miles ran his hand across the carpet until his fingers found something sharp.
Miles squinted as he brought the object up to eye level.
It was the remnants of his table.
Miles dropped down on all fours and carefully crawled across the carpet, feeling his way around.
Along the back wall he found his sofa – now just a mere three centimetres in length.
Carefully scanning along the floor, Miles realised that all of his furniture had been shrunk.
Miles carefully backed toward the door and out into the corridor.
"Everything alright, Chief?" Ensign Coleman asked as he saw Miles crawling out of his quarters.
Miles glanced up, wearing a face like he'd been caught.
"Aye," Miles replied awkwardly.
-X-
"Data...mmm...Data, what's wro-" Tasha tried to ask.
She couldn't get her question out fast enough before he captured her lips with another kiss.
"Nothing," he breathed, his mouth hot against her own.
They were in the middle of a rather heated snogging session. For the last three minutes and eighteen seconds, Data had been experiencing a new sensation.
His spatial recognition sensors were sending a series of unusual signals to his neural net. He felt light as air. Data could only describe it as dreamy.
It was like he was floating.
And Data did not want to lose that sense.
He briefly considered if this was the feeling that humans described as 'dizziness.'
It was invigorating.
"Data?" Tasha asked.
He tightened his embrace, eager to cling to the hazy feeling of weightlessness that seemed to accompany her kiss.
Tasha keened softly as Data's hand slipped under her t-shirt and up the back of her spine.
She clutched the bottom of Data's sleep shirt and pulled it up – stopping at his shoulders.
They broke apart just long enough for Tasha to pull it up and over his head.
She grinned wickedly.
And they both came crashing back onto the bed as the sickening feeling of being in freefall made Tasha's stomach drop and sent Data's neural net into a spiral.
"Oof," Tasha groaned as they landed.
She glanced around the room.
"What the hell?" she asked as she scratched her head.
Data glanced over the edge of the bed and looked underneath.
He popped up a moment later wearing a frown.
Data scanned the corners where the side walls met the ceiling.
"What?" Tasha asked, concerned.
"I believe there is some kind of antigrav emitter in use," Data explained. "Though I cannot detect where it is originating from."
Data paused his search and turned back to Tasha.
He cocked his head to the side and studied her for a moment.
"Data wh-" Tasha began to ask.
He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers.
After a few seconds, Tasha opened her eyes and noticed Data was glancing around.
Nothing had happened.
"Data, what are you doing?" Tasha questioned.
"Testing a theory," Data replied quickly.
Data dove at her neck.
"Data," Tasha giggled as breath tickled her neck.
Their hands found one another, their fingers intertwined.
Tasha tilted her head to the side to give Data better access.
She gasped softly as they rose – hovering a few inches off the bed.
"Data," she said. "Data, it's happening again."
Data smiled to himself. His theory had proven to be correct.
He loosened his grip on Tasha's hand. His kisses became less ardent.
A second later, they touched back down on top of Tasha's bed.
"Well," Tasha said.
Data moved in again and Tasha sat back.
"What are you doing?" Tasha asked.
"Proper procedure for any experiment requires that results must be reproducible," Data replied simply.
Tasha's eyes widened in warning.
"I mean repeatable," Data said, changing the wording so as not to set off panic bells in her mind.
Data could tell from her reaction that Tasha needed a little reassurance as to his motivations.
"I am not attempting to solicit intimacy for the purpose of procreation," Data assured her.
He froze.
"I should clarify, I am attempting to solicit intimacy – but not for the purpose of procreation," Data explained.
Data wasn't entirely sure if he should be upset or elated with this latest prank. In a way it was an act of sheer brilliance.
"I believe that this antigravity experience is somehow linked to your heart rate and the artificial pulse of my coolant system," Data informed her.
"Oh," Tasha said.
Tasha was thinking hard, straining to wrap her head around it as she considered Data's hypothesis. She didn't quite understand how that all fit together, but she trusted Data's analysis.
"So you mean the more we erm...physically exert ourselves the more we-" Tasha trailed off as she turned her gaze upward.
Suddenly she lowered her head to meet Data's eyes.
"But what happens, um, after? I'm not keen to drop. Again," Tasha said.
"Then we will have to come down gently," Data replied simply.
Tasha bit her lip. Data's breath hitched.
Nine minutes and twenty-three seconds later, Data rested his hand on the ceiling as he poured himself into drawing out the reaction necessary for definitive evidence to support his conclusion.
Seventeen minutes after that, Tasha closed her eyes. She nuzzled her head against Data's chest. Data brought her hand to his lips and kissed the tips of her fingers as Tasha caught her breath.
"Goodnight," Data whispered.
"Night," Tasha replied lazily.
Snuggled against one another, they were hovering a few inches above the bed.
It would be another hour before they came down – sinking into a soft mattress as they both drifted off to dreamland.
-X-
Over on deck eight, Commander Riker was on his way back to his quarters. He had spent the evening observing the comings and goings of the crew in Ten Forward and pouring over his notes.
He was no closer to finding the culprit.
As he stepped off the lift, he ran into Wesley Crusher who was on his way home from the Engineering library.
"Evening, Wes," Riker said with a nod.
"Hello, Commander," Wes replied.
He took note of how exhausted Commander Riker looked and wondered if he had been a contributing factor. He still felt bad for helping his mom and the others pull a practical joke on the First Officer.
"Sir, I'm really sorry about that incident the other morning," Wesley apologised.
Riker waved him off.
"Don't think twice about it. I don't mind. It was all in good fun," Riker replied.
Despite his smile, he still looked tired.
"Sweet dreams, Commander," Wesley said.
After stepping through the door to his quarters, Riker tossed off his boots. He brushed his teeth and threw on a pair of pyjamas and hopped into bed.
Will breathed a sigh of relief as he relaxed back against his pillow. It felt nice a cool – just the way he liked it.
Must have been more knackered that I thought. Riker mused.
It felt almost as if he were literally dropping down into his pillow.
All of a sudden there was a cold, wet feeling on the back of his head.
Riker sighed as he weighed his options. He wasn't sure he really wanted to get up.
Deciding it was probably best that he checked whatever substance he was lying in before committing to sleep in it, Riker sat up and turned around.
There was something oozing out of his pillow.
He sniffed the air.
There was something sweet oozing out of his pillow.
Never one to be afraid of trying something edible, Riker dipped his fingers in it and plopped one in his mouth.
Custard.
Commander Riker sat up straight as realisation dawned on him – he had seen this once before.
He threw off his blanket and hopped out of bed. After a quick shower, Commander Riker sat down at the desk in his quarters. Hunched over his computer, he began to comb through his personal logs.
Sweet dreams indeed. Riker grinned.
-X-
Just after midnight, Commander Riker stepped out into the corridor. He adjusted the brim of his cap. Squaring his shoulders, he strolled off for the nearest lift.
With a newfound sense of confidence, he was off to clear his name.
Whoever had masterminded these pranks was no ordinary joker. They had detailed knowledge of ship operations, the senior officers' schedules, and they had the technical knowledge to pull off such elaborate planning.
They were creative.
Most importantly, they had a flexible schedule that permitted them to wander the ship as necessary without raising suspicion.
"Will the following personnel please report to the Observation Lounge immediately," Riker said as he tapped his combadge.
-X-
"Mom?" Wesley said.
He stepped out into the main room of their quarters. He was rubbing his eyes. Wesley had only just gotten to bed after wrapping up his physics homework.
"Come on. We'd better get up there," Beverly said as she fixed her hair.
As they stepped out into the corridor, Beverly squinted against the harsh lighting.
She'd been having a wonderful dream prior to being so rudely awoken.
This had better be good. Beverly thought to herself.
If this was simply another prank for Riker's amusement, then he was going to really be in for it.
-X-
Several decks down, Data and Tasha stepped onto the lift together – grateful there weren't any other senior officers on her floor.
The lift swung open to reveal a rather grumpy looking Worf.
He gave them a small nod as they stepped aboard but did not comment.
"You too?" Tasha asked.
Worf grumbled something indecipherable in response.
"What do you think Riker's playing at?" Tasha inquired.
"He had better not be playing at anything," Worf responded.
He was steamed.
"If this is another practical joke, I will challenge him to Tr'ian'og," Worf declared.
Tasha quirked an eyebrow at him.
Data cocked his head to the side as he considered Worf's statement.
"I believe that would violate the Starfleet Officer's Code section-" he trailed off and glanced down as Tasha gripped his hand.
It was her subtle way of telling him he had misread Worf's intentions.
"Ah! Hyperbole," Data said as his eyes lit up.
Worf turned and gave him an unreadable look in response and Data was left wondering if his original understanding had, in fact, been on the nose.
-X-
It was dark in the Observation Lounge.
"Evening," Miles said as he joined the crowd shuffling into the darkened room.
While he didn't like being awoken in the middle of the night, Miles was reassured in knowing he wasn't alone.
Everyone grumbled a groggy hello to one another as they took their seats around the table.
"Wesley? What are you doing here?" Data inquired.
"His purpose for being here will be revealed shortly," a familiar voice said from the darkest corner of the room.
Will Riker was hiding in the shadows, leaning against the wall just out of the line of light that came in from one of the view windows.
"I suppose you're all wondering why I called you here tonight," Riker said dramatically.
A recognisable sound was accompanied by a small flash of light as Riker struck a match. He brought it to up to his face before lowering it to the edge of a pipe, puffing away to light it.
Deanna bit back a laugh as he began to cough and choke a second later.
"Is that my pipe?" Data asked as Riker stepped out from the shadows.
It wasn't just Data's pipe.
It seemed Commander Riker had made an impromptu stop at Data's quarters to grab his pipe, Inverness cape, and deer stalking cap.
Data's face registered surprise.
"Sorry, Data. But with this blue hair I was worried you wouldn't take me seriously," Riker confessed.
"Yes, that's why we wouldn't take you seriously," Tasha quipped.
"I needed something to lend some gravitas," Riker said as he threw his leg up on the arm of a nearby chair.
"It lends something, but gravitas is not the word I have in mind," Worf muttered.
Having forgotten his previous experience, Riker took a deep puff from the pipe.
He choked, beating his chest in an effort to catch his breath as he was unaccustomed to the pungent smoke and flavour.
Data held out his hand and Riker turned over the pipe.
"Thank you, sir," Data said as he took it from him.
"Now then," Riker began.
He threw his arms behind his back and started to pace around the table.
"For nearly three weeks we have all been subjected to a series of practical jokes by a perpetrator whose devious nature is only surpassed by their ingenuity," Riker said as he wiggled his finger.
As he recapped each of their experiences at the hands of the joker, Riker continued to stroll about the room. He was doing a remarkable job of dragging it out.
Everyone was tired and annoyed. But they knew that Riker had spent weeks taking the blame for such pranks.
They figured that if he had merely been the fall guy, he deserved the opportunity to clear his name.
And if he truly was the prankster, then perhaps this final 'reveal' would be the end of it.
"I don't blame any of you for suspecting me. After all, our joker is nothing short of brilliant," Riker grinned. "And I was more than flattered by your attempt to exact revenge on me."
Deanna rolled her eyes.
"My first suspicion was that these practical jokes had to have been perpetrated by a group. An unstoppable trio that I am certain, if they were to put their minds to it, could accomplish anything with their combination of brains and-" Riker described.
"If you think flattering us is going to make up for pulling us out of bed at this hour then you-" Beverly said, cutting him off.
"I mean every word," Riker said, clutching his chest and feigning innocence.
He turned Data.
"Then I considered that it might be one highly capable mind. Perhaps keen to try the full human experience?" Riker teased.
Data opened his mouth to protest.
"Don't worry, Data. I know it wasn't you," Riker assured the room.
Data certainly had the skills necessary to pull off the jokes – and more than enough time to move about and complete them.
But after seeing Data's very real panic in Ten Forward during the glue incident, Riker knew there was no way Data could be behind it all.
Riker turned his attention to Worf.
"Then my supsicions fell on someone else. I theorised that no one would suspect the hardworking, quiet Klingon," Riker explained.
A dark look crossed Worf's face and Commander Riker sat down on the edge of the table near him.
"So committed to duty. So focused on his responsibilities," Riker said in a firm voice.
"Get to your point," Worf warned, displeased at having his honour questioned.
"Oh, I know it wasn't you!" Riker said fondly.
Riker threw his head back and laughed.
"No, no. Whoever did this had the flexibility to move about the ship freely without arousing suspicion. They also happen to have a knack for engineering," Riker announced.
He spun his body and leaned in close to Miles.
"Someone like, say, a Transporter Chief," Riker teased.
Miles's face fell in disbelief.
"If you think I willingly went through oatmeal hell, then you've finally and truly cracked," Miles said hotly before quickly adding. "Sir."
Riker winked.
"No, our culprit is someone we never would have suspected. Someone who has fooled us all with his genial nature and clever acting skills these last three weeks. Someone who has dropped the right hints at the right time to misdirect and obfuscate. Someone who-" Riker said, working his way up to his grand reveal.
"Where is Lieutenant La Forge?" Data asked suddenly as he scanned around the table.
Riker's shoulders dropped.
"Data!" Riker protested.
Data's eyes went wide with concern.
"Oh. Oh, I apologise, Commander. I did not mean to anticipate your denouement," Data said sincerely.
-X-
"But Geordi?" Beverly asked in astonishment.
The entire team was having a hard time accepting it.
In fact, for the last thirty-two minutes they had been arguing the merits of Commander Riker's accusation.
"Geordi was the one inside Ten Forward when the chairs were swapped," Riker explained.
"But that doesn't prove anything," Deanna replied.
Riker smirked as if he had a tidbit of juicy information yet to reveal.
"But who was it that pointed the finger at you three?" Riker asked.
"Lieutenant La Forge," Worf recalled.
Riker nodded.
"And who was it that took it upon himself to orchestrate reconciling things between Keiko and the Chief?" Riker asked the room.
"Geordi," Miles admitted.
Riker nodded again.
"And Worf, who was it that suggested you try to talk Tasha into making things right with Data?" Riker asked.
"Geordi," Worf muttered, suddenly feeling like he had fallen for a trap.
Riker gave him a knowing look.
Data was blinking rapidly. He was stunned that it could be Geordi that had been responsible for all the practical jokes.
However, he had to admit that Commander Riker's evidence pointed to that conclusion.
The programming necessary to accomplish such pranks without leaving a trace of tampering had required significant skill.
The use of the sound-dampening fields for the early-morning Sousa surprise had been based on Sonya Gomez's work in Ten Aft – it would only make sense that Geordi had obtained it from her.
"But this is all circumstantial," Deanna argued.
She really didn't want to blame Geordi without definitive proof.
"Yeah, we can't accuse him unless we're sure," Wesley chimed in.
Everyone fell silent as they looked at one another.
"I believe Commander Riker's assessment is correct," Data said after a few moments.
He was hesitant to say anything, but Data knew he had information that was pertinent. Data also understood that if Riker wasn't responsible, he had a responsibility to help clear his name.
"Lieutenant La Forge made a comment to me earlier this evening," Data said. "A comment that, in retrospect, foreshadowed another practical joke."
His statement was intentionally cryptic.
"Data?" Beverly prompted.
"I believe he used the opportunity to 'get a kick' out of warning me while I was none the wiser," Data shared.
"What do you mean?" Deanna inquired.
"There's not a lot of identifying information, sir," Miles added.
As he looked around at the faces of his fellow officers, Data realised that they were not accept such a vague explanation without more details.
It took Data 1.39 seconds to determine that he would have to offer a more thorough explanation.
"At the end of our shift, Geordi asked if would like to join him for a game of darts. I declined as I had plans with another officer," Data began.
Another officer.
Tasha could just feel everyone's eyes on her – not that their relationship was exactly a secret, but she still didn't like to air the details of their private lives.
"After some menial discussion, Geordi made a statement that he was sure I would be 'floating on cloud nine' that evening," Data informed them.
Data took a breath.
"Earlier tonight, I found myself on the receiving end of another practical joke," Data continued. "A practical joke that involved the use of complex antigravitational device."
Miles and Wesley perked up at this as they were fascinated.
"Really? Wes asked.
He was so curious he looked ready to burst out of his chair.
"It was most intriguing," Data said, diverging off topic. "I have not yet discovered how or where it was installed, but the device was programmed to respond to biological sensory input. I believe the rate of antigravitational signal output directly correlated to Lieutenant Yar's heartrate and endorphin levels as-"
Data caught sight of the sharp, warning look Tasha was giving him from across the table.
"And the details are unimportant," Data concluded.
Beverly was sitting next to Tasha. She turned in her chair with an eager look in her eyes. There was a soft intake of breath as she was about to make a remark.
"Nope," Tasha said as she put her finger up, cautioning Beverly that this was one topic she wasn't going to get a full debrief on.
Tasha knew Beverly was desperate to hear all the scintillating details – she lived for that kind of thing.
But there was absolutely no way she was about to announce the intimate details of her evening to the table.
"Oh come on," Beverly pressed.
Tasha stayed silent but exchanged a small smile with Data.
Riker cleared his throat. They were starting to get off topic.
This was supposed to be his big reveal, and he didn't want to waste another moment.
"I owe it to Wesley here for giving me the final clue," Riker stated.
He knew his next bit of evidence was going to cinch it for them.
"Sir?" Wes asked.
He didn't follow.
"You told me to have sweet dreams," Riker reminded him.
Deanna made a face.
That was your clue? Will heard Deanna communicate to him telepathically.
A look passed between the two.
You know better than that. Trust me, Imzadi. Riker thought, hopeful that she would get his message.
"I think most of you know that Geordi and I served together on the USS Hood," Riker said.
It was common knowledge they had known one another during their previous assignment. What wasn't common knowledge was the great Custard Caper that had plagued the Hood in 2362.
Riker explained to the room that hubris had been Geordi's downfall. Geordi had gotten comfortable – comfortable enough to repeat a prank that he had pulled once before.
Will couldn't blame him. After all, Geordi had managed to evade detection for weeks as he dodged detection and redirected the blame. He planted all the right ideas and just the right time in order to play the role of the perfectly unassuming Engineer.
"When I was on the Hood, someone got all the senior officers one April Fool's day. They put custard in the pillows," Riker recalled. "And this person was never caught."
Riker was beaming.
"So after you told me to have sweet dreams and I came home to find a pillow full of custard, it triggered a memory," Riker continued.
He activated the viewscreen to display his personal log from 2 April 2362.
Worf sat forward in his chair. Beverly clapped her hand over her mouth.
"Well I'll be," Miles remarked.
"I'm sorry, Commander," Tasha apologised.
"Me too," Beverly said.
"I owe you an apology, sir," Data chimed in.
"We all do," Worf acknowledged.
"Indeed," Miles agreed.
"No hard feelings," Riker winked.
In truth, Riker wasn't upset. Geordi had brought some fun to the last few mundane weeks and his plan to frame Riker had been executed with such precision that Will couldn't stay mad at him.
"Now that this has been resolved, I intend to return to my rest programme," Data announced.
"Whoa, whoa!" Riker said. "This isn't over."
"Yeah, we can't just go back to bed," Miles protested. "Not without a plan."
Worf glanced side to side with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
"Justice," Worf said in a determined voice.
"Something harmless," Deanna requested.
"Harmless but wicked," Beverly added.
"I say we send Geordi a message. Hold his feet to the fire," Riker grinned.
-X-
At 15:48, Geordi was just about to clock off for the evening. It had been a relatively easy day.
Given his last round of practical jokes, Geordi had opted to lie low for a few days until the heat was off. He knew his comment to Data had been a risk, but Geordi hadn't been able to resist.
He would give it two or three more days before pulling his next joke.
In any case, Sonya had asked if he wanted to join her for a luau holodeck programme later and Geordi could do with some time off.
He had just wrapped up his daily report when his combadge pinged.
"Geordi? Could you come check out the bone knitter in Sickbay? It's been acting up and Chief O'Brien's got a broken arm," Beverly said.
"I'll be right there!" Geordi replied.
He knew Miles had plans with Keiko and didn't want the Chief to have to miss a minute of it.
Eighteen minutes later, Geordi arrived in Sickbay with his toolkit in hand.
Miles was sitting on one of the exam cots and cradling his arm.
"Kayaking?" Geordi asked.
"Missed a step on the Jefferies tube," Miles responded with a tight smile.
"It's right over there," Beverly said, guiding Geordi to a nearby table.
"Alright let's see here," Geordi said as he opened his toolkit.
In a flash, Beverly got him with a hypospray, and Miles jumped up to catch him.
"Goodnight Prank Prince," Beverly chuckled.
-X-
The first thing Geordi recognised was the sound of a steel guitar. In the distance, there was splashing.
He could smell salt water and feel a warm breeze on his skin.
But Geordi didn't want to open his eyes.
Geordi felt nice and warm as if he were swaddled in bed.
Only, he was still wearing his VISOR and it wasn't like him to fall asleep with the device on.
In fact, it was usually the first thing he took off when he got home for the day.
A dream? Geordi pondered.
There was laughter and the delicious scent of sweet and sour pork BBQ wafting in to penetrate his nose and tantalise his senses.
Geordi tried to roll over and found himself stuck.
"What the?" Geordi said aloud as he shifted.
He opened his eyes and realised he was staring down at a white sand beach. The team had bound Geordi to a long log – in similar fashion to the replicated pig they were cooking on the other side of the beach.
Knowing his fear of fires, Deanna had insisted they resist the urge to stuff an apple in his mouth.
Geordi tried to move and found he was restrained to something. Glancing up, he found himself face to face with Sonya.
"Aloha!" Sonya said.
She was sitting on the sand on her knees with a large smile plastered on her face.
"Hey! Welcome to the party!" Riker said as he approached Geordi.
He was wearing a pair of sunglasses and a rather obnoxious pair of chartreuse swim shorts.
"Party?" Geordi asked in disbelief.
"In your honour," Data added as he joined them.
Geordi laughed nervously.
"Alright. What's really going on here?" Geordi asked as he glanced from Data to Riker.
"Retribution," a deep voice said.
Geordi cleared his throat.
"Oh you guys can't think that I," Geordi trailed off and flashed them a smile. "I mean, you guys don't think I was the one responsible for those jokes?"
There was a pregnant pause as they let Geordi sweat.
"We're not mad," Riker said with a smile.
"It was most amusing," Data added.
"Oh yeah, I just loved all that oatmeal," Miles chimed in.
Geordi breathed a sigh of relief.
"I can't tell you what a relief it is to hear that," Geordi confessed.
With each additional prank, he had been worried about what the fallout might be. The scare with Data and the adhesive had made him extra cautious to ensure no one was injured with any future jokes.
"Then we have a confession!" Riker called out.
A cheer erupted from the team.
"Lieutenant, I hereby authorise you to carry out the punishment in accordance with the circumstances laid out by our team tribunal," Deanna ruled as she nodded to Tasha.
"Aye, sir," Tasha responded.
"Punishment?!" Geordi said, alarmed. "Whoa! Hold up a minute! Please don't-"
Geordi shrieked as Tasha ran a feather across the bottom of his bare feet.
Thanks to a tip from Sonya, the team learned that Geordi had notoriously ticklish feet.
"Ah! No!" Geordi said between a fit of giggles.
After a few moments of watching him squirm from some good-natured, harmless torture, the team released him.
"You guys," Geordi said with a grin.
He scratched the back of his neck as he shook his head.
"Was our vengeance successful?" Data inquired.
"You ever do it again and you're all going to wake up to find your PADDs have replaced every third word with cattywampus," Geordi threatened.
"Here," Sonya said as she handed him a drink in a coconut.
Geordi glanced around the beach – they were roasting a pig, Riker had fish and pineapple on the grill, and Miles had brought along a volleyball. Deanna was mixing drinks with tiny umbrellas at a holographic tiki bar with some real liquor they had brought down for the occasion.
There was a large pool next to the sand.
Everyone was dressed for an evening at the beach and seemed to be enjoying themselves.
As tense as the last few days had been, Geordi was glad it had all worked out. Everyone had the chance to blow off a little steam in the tropical atmosphere.
Out of the corner of his eye, Geordi caught something flip out of the water. It was followed by two more graceful splashes a moment later.
"Hey! You made it!" Riker hollered.
"Echo, Tuna, Frank!" Geordi waved as the Cetacean Operations crew emerged, swimming backwards to greet their fellow crew members.
"I feel overdressed. Maybe I should run back to my quarters and grab my swim shorts?" Geordi suggested.
"Too late!" Tasha shouted.
Splat.
There was a cold, wet feeling as Geordi was hit square between his shoulders by a water bubble.
"Head's up!" Wesley cried out.
A second later, a second water bubble impacted his side.
Geordi turned around and found Tasha, Worf, and Wesley all holding water bubbles in hand.
They were a common toy for children produced by a machine that created a tiny forcefield around cold water. The shield dissolved on contact creating a completely sustainable water-based weapon that were not unlike the water balloons used by children hundreds of years earlier.
To Geordi's alarm, there was a bucket of bubbles sitting next to Worf's leg.
"I must avenge my honour," Worf said.
Geordi put his hand up and backed away slowly.
"Let's just take it easy, shall we?" Geordi asked, hoping to avoid getting wet.
"The time for talk is over," Worf grinned.
Geordi dove for the ground as the three of them launched their attack.
Beverly and Commander Riker appeared a few moments later with a second bucket of bubbles. Data was a few metres away behind a sand dune with his own bucket.
It was a terrifying free-for-all as the entire team pummelled one another with exceptional speed and skill. They were ducking behind dunes and trees – anything to avoid the freezing water.
Halfway through their bubble battle, Riker noticed that Deanna and Keiko had somehow managed to avoid the worst of it. They were down by the edge of the pool chatting with the Cetacean crew.
Waving down the rest of the team, they crept up slowly.
Tasha put a finger to her lips to signify to Echo, Tuna, and Frank not to tip her off.
"If you all think you can sneak up on a Betazoid, then you are all terribly mistaken," Deanna warned without turning around. "Don't think you can take aim without me knowing about it."
Worf and Commander Riker exchanged a quick glance, wordlessly conveying their plan.
Without warning, they picked Deanna and Keiko up and tossed them into the water.
The two women emerged a moment later and splashed Riker and Worf with a spray of water.
Geordi detached his VISOR and set it down on the bar.
"Come on!" Sonya said as she grabbed Geordi's hand and pulled him down to the pool.
They leapt into the water together. It felt invigorating.
"Think fast, mom!" Wesley said before pushing Beverly into the water.
She grabbed desperately for anything – latching onto Riker's forearm and pulling him down into the water with her.
"Don't push your mother, Wesley!" Miles teased as he gave Wes a playful shove into the water.
"Oi! Don't pick on the kid!" Tasha said as she dove at Miles – sending him down into the water with the rest of them.
Tasha shrieked as Worf tossed her into the water.
He laughed heartily. King of the mountain was always his favourite game as a child – and he was damn good at it.
Worf felt someone tap his shoulder.
He turned to see Data standing behind him.
"Sir?" Worf asked.
"Pick on someone your own size," Data teased before he pushed Worf over the edge.
Worf's eyes went wide with surprise as he fell backwards into the water.
He emerged a moment later, sputtering as he came up from the water.
Data reached down and offered him his arm as a sign of good faith.
Without so much as even a look, Tasha and Worf reached for Data's arm and pulled him down into the water.
They had intentionally opted for a pool rather than a traditional ocean beach so that there was a cement bottom. It allowed the Cetacean crew to swim right up to the edge and it was at a depth that made it safe for Data to be in the water with everyone.
Data found his footing and stood up.
The water wasn't terribly deep – only coming up to his shoulders. It felt refreshing.
Tasha emerged from the water a moment later and shook the water out of her ear.
"How nice of you to join us," she grinned.
As it turned out, the spontaneous pool time had been precisely what they needed. Splashing about and tossing one another around, the team was having a blast. And it was the first time in three weeks that they were all able to relax without fear of falling victim to a prank.
Out of the corner of his eye, Wesley caught sight of something.
Or rather, someone.
He froze.
Realising that Wes had stopped, Beverly followed his line of sight.
"Oh," she said.
One by one the officers became aware that they had an audience.
"Guys?" Geordi asked. "Come on!"
He pushed his hand through the water and shot a big spray out of the pool – splashing up onto the beach and directly onto Captain Picard.
Underwater, Sonya gripped his arm to indicate he should hold up.
"Sir?" Data asked.
"Has everyone on this bloody ship gone mad?" Picard barked.
Guinan was standing next to him. They were both sporting their fencing equipment. It was bad enough being caught in such an unprofessional predicament – made worse by the fact that the team must have crashed the Captain's holodeck reservation.
No one said anything. They stood their utterly embarrassed and dripping wet as Captain Picard eyed them carefully.
His lips were thin and the little vein in his temple was throbbing.
"We were just, um," Riker trailed off as he motioned to the water.
"Just a little fun, Jean-Luc," Beverly said in an attempt to smooth things over.
He did not look amused.
"Captain, I think we all just needed a chance to burn some energy," Deanna added.
"I have had it with you screwballs!" Picard said, raising his voice.
"Captain, maybe we should just-" Guinan started to say.
"When I found out someone had ignored my holodeck reservation, I expected it to be a group of careless young Ensigns!" Picard snapped.
Everyone felt horrible.
Really did it this time. Tasha cringed internally.
Data wasn't used to being in trouble.
Deanna could sense the anger radiating from Captain Picard.
Geordi felt horrible. Worse, he felt responsible for upsetting the Captain.
"This is the kind of reckless disregard for duty I would expect from Academy cadets, not the buffoons I call my senior staff!" Picard bellowed. "You are all going on report for the next ten days and if I get one whiff of another prank then you all-"
Picard paused. He closed his eyes as a pained look crossed his face.
"Jean-Luc?" Beverly asked, concerned by his reaction.
"You all-" Captain Picard said in a strained voice.
All of a sudden, he clutched his chest and fell into the water.
"Captain!" Riker cried.
The team dove into both the water and into action. Data was the first to reach Captain Picard. He pulled him up out of the water.
Tasha, Beverly, and Worf scrambled out of the water.
"Medical kit!" Beverly shouted.
Tasha raced out of the arch to grab the nearest emergency medical kit that was located just down the corridor.
With his android strength, Data lifted Picard out of the water.
"Medical team to holodeck four," Beverly heard Guinan say into the arch comm.
Worf and Beverly pulled Captain Picard up onto the beach.
Without her equipment, Beverly was limited in what she could do.
She listened and determined that Captain Picard was breathing – that was a good sign.
However, it indicated that he may have suffered some kind of problem with his artificial heart. Beverly knew that the model he had been outfitted with had issues. They were faulty and Jean-Luc kept putting off a replacement surgery.
As the rest of the team pulled themselves up out of the pool, Captain Picard made a series of painful noises.
He groaned and coughed out a mouthful of water.
"Bev...er..ly," he managed to choke out in a shaky voice.
"Sir?" Beverly asked as she looked down at him.
Her eyes were full of fear.
He repeated his weak attempt to say her name.
"Jean-Luc?" Beverly pressed.
She gripped his hand tightly.
"Got you," Picard said in a strained voice.
Beverly blinked in confusion.
Jean-Luc's face broke out into a grin as the entire team sat around him in disbelief.
"Got you!" Jean-Luc repeated as he popped up. "Got you. And you. And especially you!"
Captain Picard was practically giddy, and he wiggled his shoulders.
"Sir?" Data inquired.
"That was not funny!" Geordi exclaimed.
Deanna chortled.
"I thought-" Beverly paused.
She took a deep breath and shook out her hands to steady her nerves.
"Were you in on this?" Riker asked Guinan.
"Told you I've seen them all," Guinan replied.
Jean-Luc had truly been steamed about the early-morning wakeup prank. Ever since it had occurred, he'd been looking for a way to join in the fun.
At Guinan's suggestion, they had worked out a plan. While they had originally intended to present such a practical joke at the next meeting, the impromptu luau had provided the perfect opportunity.
It had been Jean-Luc's idea to pretend their fencing night had been disrupted. Everyone on the crew knew how precious the Captain's personal time was – and how testy he could get when it was disturbed.
The arch slid open, and Tasha raced in as fast her feet would carry her. The sudden shift from the solid carpeted corridor to the sandy beach caused her to stumble and lose her footing.
She rolled and pulled herself back up in a most undignified fashion.
It wasn't like the typically graceful Security Chief to fumble, and everyone busted out laughing.
Tasha paused and looked up at them, confused.
"Sir?" Tasha asked as she caught her breath.
"I'm fine, Lieutenant," Picard assured her.
Tasha fell back against the sand in relief.
"You were acting?" Worf asked.
"Well, I'm not really much of an actor," Captain Picard said nonchalantly.