Okay, time for the Alternative Universe
Troi/Riker and Tom . another day in the life.
Disclaimer: one word--Paramount
Asking for Trouble 3
So youre my neighbor? Tom Riker said, what in the hell was this lanky looking woman doing?
I baked these for you. She said with a smile, revealing teeth that desperately needed to be brushed. Sort of a neighborly greeting.
Oh, youve made cookies. Yum. He stated flatly, with a somewhat sarcastic tone to his voice.
Would you like to come in? he asked.
Just for a minute.
Good. He stated with a nod of his head, and with the plate of cookies in his hand, he made his way to the kitchen, put the plate down on the counter, opened the cooling unit, and took out a beer.
You drink a lot? The girl asked. She was a tall, lanky looking woman, with reddish brown hair that the thought desperately needed to be combed, and with a smile that definitely needed to be brushed.
Im Thomas. He stated, ignoring her question. And you are?
Betty. Betty Thompson. She smiled. You drink a lot?
No. he lied, and then he tipped the bottle and drank half of its contents in one gulp.
You like beer? she asked.
No. he lied again, drinking the rest of the bottle and throwing it in the trash replicator. You drink?
No, my parents were both alcoholics.
Oh, Im sorry. He stated being a gentleman. So do you want a beer? He asked, as he reached in a got another one.
Mind if I do? He asked. He had one in his hand before she could object.
My mother says you can tell a lot about a man by what he drinks.
Really? He said with a cock of his eyebrow. Well I drink cheap beer and even cheaper whiskey. That is unless my brother buys, in which he usually does, because I dont have a job yet. Im an ex-convict, spent over half of my life in a Cardassian prison camp and the other half deserted on a planet. My sister in law sends supplies over all the time, like sheets, towels, and chipper little floral arrangements . . . in which I hate. Shes also a lousy cook. He explained, not caring what he was saying. So when she sends food, my brother my brother and I sit at the table and dissect it, like a frog.
You curse a lot. She observed. Do you have any brothers or sisters? she asked, I heard you mention your brother.
Just one brother, I guess you could call him a brother, hes not right.
Im sorry. Im sure its a hardship on your mother.
My mothers dead.
You said that already. But thats okay. Thomas said, sitting down at the kitchen table across from her. Dad re-married.
You know--- Looney. Thomas answered swirling the beer around in the bottle. Mommy Cecilia is loonier than bug shit.
Does she live here?
Not here. He answered. But close.
Do you ever go see her?
No. My brother and I just send her laxatives all the time; we send them to her for mothers day, on her birthday, anniversaries and at Christmas. She takes them by the shit loads. Then he smiled a small charming devilish smile. No pun intended.
Why does she take so many laxatives?
Because, my brother tells her shes full of crap. He answered bluntly, And since he used to be Commander of a Starship, she believes that everything he says is gospel. Therefore she ingests laxatives all the time.
You talk about your brother a lot dont you?
Hes the only one I know thats got a life.
Have you ever had her hospitalized? She asked, wide eyed.
Hell no, she loves hospitals. Spends most of her time in the emergency room, she admits herself at least once a month. She dances naked with a broom in her kitchen, in the middle of the night, by the music of a mosquito that sings Jazz in her ear. He explained, hoping like hell he could scare her off and shed run out of his apartment screaming. I guess we could always get her a job at the broom factory. Thomas looked at her and chuckled, Shed have a hay day wouldnt she. Me and my brother love to rag the shit out of her.
I think thats rather mean. She sounded appalled, If your mother is sick, you should try to find her a qualified therapist.
You curse a lot.
Yeah, I do, Im a mess. I also go to bed alone almost every night, and on weekends I get drunk with my brother. We sometimes get drunk during the week, when hes a jackass to his wife, who happens to be pregnant and their kid is due any time. And the one certain way to tell if hes drunk is he starts to talk about My-fish.
No, My-fish. He clarified, referring to Wills fish that happened to be named My-fish. Although she didnt know this one little fact and he wasnt about to tell her the difference.
I see. She whispered. Tom knew she didnt and he smiled victoriously.
Oh, a dog. She said looking down at her feet. Virgil is perhaps one of the ugliest dogs shes ever seen, the puppy just stands there, looking up at her and wags its three haired tail happily.
Virgil? Betty asked, What is he? What is he a mixture of?
Hell. I have no idea. Thomas answered finishing off his beer. That seems to be the million dollar question around here.
Im normally allergic to dogs.
Virgil isnt a normal dog. Thomas informed her, taking another beer out of the cooling unit. Gods all he wanted to do was get drunk and forget that he even had neighbors.
Hes cute. Betty stated, not knowing what else to say. Virgil remained frozen; he just stood there and looked up at her. Finally Betty reached down and patted Virgil who immediately jumped up on her lap. Oh! she exclaimed. He jumps.
Yeah puppies do that. But hes almost four months old. Thomas stated, opening up another beer. Hell also piss on you if you scare him, so dont frighten him too much. He pisses on my brother all the time.
Bettys eyes grew wide in shock. I---I---wont try to frighten him.
Both heads turned towards the door and Virgil jumped off of Bettys lap and ran yipping towards the front door. Virgil, will you shut the hell up. Thomas grumbled as he stood to his feet and made his way towards the door.
Red Alert, Virgil! Will Riker teased as he barged his way past his brother, carrying a case of beer. That damn dog has got the most ball breaking bark Ive ever heard, damn he needs to spend the weekend with Mommy Cee.---- Oh.--- He exclaimed, coming to a dead stop at the sight of Betty sitting at the kitchen table. Im sorry, I didnt know you had company.
This is Betty, my next door neighbor. Thomas introduced the woman to his brother. Betty this is Will Riker, my brother.
I didnt know you two were twins. She stated, noticing the resemblance between the two men. Tom never mentioned that.
Thomas, who suddenly became embarrassed, stepped forward, took the beer from his brothers arms, and began to stock the cooling unit. Have a seat, Will. I was just getting ready to put some steaks out to thaw, have you eaten yet?
Yeah, Deanna cooked dinner.
I reiterate. Have you eaten yet?
Deanna she is your wife? Betty asked.
How come you didnt bring her with you? Betty asked rather snippety. Youd think youd be a more considerate husband. I cant imagine leaving a pregnant wife.
Bettys parents were both alcoholics. Thomas explained with a wag of his eyebrows.
You shouldnt have left your pregnant wife. She stated, ignoring Thomas remark. Why arent you with her?
Because---Betty. Thomas answered, not believing the womans forwardness. Deannas having a baby shower, and my brother has no desire to stay, in the same room with a bunch of woman that wont have sexual intercourse with him, merely because of that fact that his wife is going to pop that kid out within the next two weeks.
Riker shot his brother a look of surprise.
Hell, I wouldnt stay either. Thomas said, finishing off another beer. Look, Betty made cookies. Thomas stated, pointing towards the plate of half burnt, rock hard cookies. Want one?
No, Ill pass. Riker stated. Ill take a beer though. He said making his way to the cooling unit.
So, Betty . . . Riker began, How long have you been my brothers neighbor?
I moved in last week. She explained. I was waiting for Tommy to introduce himself but he never did.
Well, Tommy--- Riker stated emphasizing the name. Youre going to have to get over your shyness.
I know. Thomas stated, I guess I should find a girl and settle down, but hell all the good ones are taken. Take Deanna for instance, she and I were engaged at one point in time.
Wait. . . Betty spoke up. You mean--- you were engaged to---his---wife?!
But you married her? She directed her attention towards Riker.
Yeah, it took me nearly twenty years but I married her, that is after she proposed to me. But the babys mine. Although, Im sure if they ran DNA it would probably be . . . Riker stated playing along.
Mine. Thomas finished his sentence. Even though I was in prison at the time of conception.
Im confused. Betty said, rubbing her forehead with her hand.
So is my step-mother. Riker said, handing his brother a fresh beer, and sitting down across from Betty. She dances naked in the kitchen by the pale moon light with a broom.
I heard. Betty stated, her voice sounded in defeat.
Virgil just sat at Rikers feet, looking up at him. You feed this dog? Riker asked, thinking it was time to change the subject.
Yeah, I fed him. Thomas said, sitting down next to Will.
This morning. Thomas stated rather sarcastically. What do you think Id do, starve my dog?
Hes just sitting there--- staring at me, he looks hungry.
He always looks like that when hes happy.
Happy? Riker laughed, The last time he looked like that, he pissed all over me.
Thomas let out a laugh.
We were trying to figure out just what Virgil was. Betty stated pleasantly.
A terrible genetic mistake. Riker said, and then turned his attention towards the small pet, Hey Virgil, you want a beer?
The little black dog yipped.
I take that as a . . .yes?
You cant give that poor dog a beer. Betty sounded appalled.
Yeah, Will. Thomas scolded and then he smiled, You know Virgil likes Brandy.
Sorry, Virgil, fresh out of brandy. Riker said, looking down at the panting dog. Hey his tongue is blue. Now why in the hell does that not shock me? Riker asked bending down and picking up the small animal, and holding him for closer inspection, the small odd-looking animal squirmed to get free.
He drinks out of the toilet all the time. Thomas answered, setting a fresh beer in front of Riker, and took a seat at the kitchen table beside him. Turns his tongue blue.
Shut up about the toilet when youre cooking. Riker warned.
Im not cooking, the steaks are frozen. You brought it up.
No I didnt bring it up. Riker stated. I simply said the dogs tongue was blue, and you started talking about that damn toilet.
The two of you curse a lot. Betty said.
My-fish tried to commit suicide again. Riker said, putting Virgil down on the floor, the dog took off running; its nails making tittering sounds across the tile floor. I got up this morning and he had jumped out of his water bowl. Riker said, finishing off the rest of his beer, He was just there on the table, flopping around. I picked him up with a spoon and put him back in his bowl.
Oh my . . . Betty stated.
Bowl? Thomas grinned. Now youre talking about the toilet.
Will you shut up about the toilet! Riker snapped at his brother, Damn youre always talking about disgusting shit.
Kiss my ass. If I cant talk about the toilet with my best friend, who in the hell else can I talk to?
Im your best friend? Riker asked, raising an eyebrow.
Without sounding insulting, Tom answered, as he handed his brother another beer. Youre my only friend.
I guess I am. Riker shrugged, giving a nod of thanks for the beer. Riker turned his attention towards Betty. You got any pets?
You need a fish.
My fish isnt right, hes suicidal. Riker informed her. Thank Gods I marred a psychologist.
Youre wifes a psychologist?
Yeah, that and a lousy cook. Riker answered. Why dont the two of you go out on a date? He asked curiously, as he swallowed a gulp of beer.
Im too old to date. Thomas blurted, answering for Betty. Hell, I dont even have a job, whos going to pay for the damn thing? Betty? I dont think so, Id never let a woman pay for a date.
Youre nice. Betty smiled.
See? Riker stated with a chuckle. She thinks youre nice.
Im making some coffee. Thomas stated, standing to his feet. Youre getting way out of hand Will. Id rather scrub toilets than let a woman pay for a date.
Will you shut up about those damn toilets? Besides, Riker added. Women have changed. A lot of women pay for the dates now a days.
Well I must be an old fucker, cause Im not letting any woman pay for my way.
Id pay. Betty said shyly. If we went out on a date, Tommy
See! Riker said wide-eyed, his finger pointing towards Betty. She said shed pay. So what does that tell you Tommy?
It tells me its the end of the God damn world. Thomas declared.
No, Deanna cooking a decent meal, now thats the end of the world. Riker laughed.
You shouldnt make fun of your pregnant wife. Betty softly scolded the intoxicated Riker.
Better than fat jokes. Riker shrugged, and Betty gasped.
If Betty paid for the date, Ill probably feel so guilty, that by the end of the night, Id probably forget to lay her. Thomas stated sadly.
I doubt that. Riker stated with a chuckle.
Pardon me? Betty sounded appalled by the mens conversation.
Im sorry, Betty. Thomas apologized, I dont do that any more. He turned towards Will and gave him an unspoken gesture of this hand.
You do too. Riker butted in with a laugh.
How in the hell should I know? You just do.
I think Id better leave. Betty stated standing to her feet.
Why? Riker asked, standing to his feet as well.
Because we curse too much. Thomas stated.
Oh. Will stated, sitting back down. Yeah, we do. Were a mess.
Betty stood to her feet, and began to walk towards the door. Riker whispered to Thomas. Show her to the door, you idiot.
Thomas shook his head no apprehensively as if to say, no way.
Bye Betty. The brothers said in unison as she shut the door behind her.
Lets go to a bar Thomas. Riker suggested. I dont want to sit around here all night.
Ive got to cook the steaks.
Theyll thaw out.
Want some of Bettys cookies?
You curse a lot. Thomas stated in a nasal voice.
Yeah, I do. Im a mess. Riker answered. Lets go to the bar.
So what. Youre always broke. Will smiled. Ill pay for our date.
Okay. Lets go to a bar. Youre rover or mine?
THE END .