"I thought we had just had our party, sir?" Riker says to me in my Ready Room, "Why are we having this Christmas meal.....before the day?"
"It's very easy, Number One." I reply, "It's a chance for all the senior ataff to get together in a pleasant way, have a chat and enjoy a Christmas dinner. After all, we can't do this on the day itself, as we all go off to see families and friends then."
"Should we have Ensign Britney, T'Pol or Seven of Nine, then?" Riker queries, "After all, they are hardly err..."
"Senior staff?" I say, "Be charitable, Commander Riker. Britney & T'Pol might be a noisy couple, but thisd might encourage them to behave in a more civilised manner. As for Seven, I think this quiet, sit-down meal might be a good lesson for her to report back to her Borg superiors."
"I hope you're right, sir." he says.
So do I.
A few hours later, the table is beautifully decorated with Christmassy items, and the senior staff file in, looking around curiously. Britney, wearing leather boots, trousers, plus a top hat and blonde wig, but sporting a bare midriff, runs to one of the seats and calls out to T'Pol at the top of her voice.
"Yay! I bags this chair!" she yells, "T'Pol, you sit there and we can do some serious chatting."
She eagerly does, and the other senior staff sit down calmly...until T'Pol and Britney start throwing bread rolls around.
"You will refrrain from throwing those rolls around or you will be assimilated!" says Seven to them sharply.
"Party pooper!" Britney mumbles, "Now sistah, what was the lastest gossip?"
Everybody seems seated with their parners. I'm with Bev, Riker is with Deanna, Worf is with Jadzia, Britney has T'Pol, Data has Jennfer Baxter, Geordi LaForge is with Trisha Lewis. The only one left out is Ro Laren, who is looking miserable with Lieutenant Barclay.
She is always secretive about her boyfriend. I believe she has one, but does not let anyone know about him. I wonder way?
My train of thought is derailed with the shrieks of Britney and T'Pol, as the latter has spilled a glass of Ktaran wine on the tablecloth.
I groan and roll my eyes, and try not to look at Riker, who is wearing his smug 'I told you so' expressions.
Ah well. It might get better.
Then again, it might not.
To be continued...