Author: Angel
Website: Lady Angel's Den of Debauchery
Disclaimer: Star Trek and Hitchhiker's Guide are the property of others. No money is being made from this story.
Rating: PG
Recipent: Hypatia Kosh
Pairing:Zaphod Beeblebrox (HHG)/Deanna Troi (TNG)
Captain Picard noticed Troi signaling him from the bar, and excused himself from the Betelguesean delegation.
"Counselor?"
"Captain, I would ask to be excused from this assignment."
Picard's eyebrows climbed. This was unusual behavior for Troi. She was ordinarily professional and calm about her duties and took on specialized work without complaint. "May I ask why, Counselor?"
"I think Commander Riker would be a better choice for distracting the nominal president while the details of the accords are finalized."
Picard's dubious look told her to continue.
"My empathic abilities are of no use on a man who can have a dozen different feelings in each head, simultaneously, all the while plastering it over with alcohol." She nodded to the two-headed president. His left head grinned back while his third arm toasted her with a drink to his right head.
"Continue."
"His conversation consists of nothing but himself, where he's been, the drinks he's drunk and invented and how we are so much more interesting than the last 'ape-descended lifeform he knew.'"
"Surely you've dealt with bores before."
"He pinched me," Troi said, almost inaudibly.
"I beg you pardon?"
"He pinched my bottom and said 'get me another drink, doll.' Captain, I'd prefer not to get within arms' reach again."
"You may not have a choice," Picard whispered.
"Hey, pretty thing," Zaphod slurred, as he lurched unsteadily toward the bar. "This old guy bothering you?" His right head glared at Picard while his left attempted to look down Troi's cleavage. Looking up at the tall Betelgeusean, Troi was glad she'd chosen a high cut dress.
He beckoned Guinan over. "Another Pan-Galactic Gargleblaster, sweetheart, and don't skimp on the Ol' Janx Spirit."
The bartender took his glass and programmed the replicator with the formula she had gotten from the more composed members of the delegation. Thinking twice, she added an extra dose of ethanol instead of synthahol. If she could make him pass out, he'd quit annoying everyone: her, Troi and his own staff.
"Captain Picard was just advising me on Betelgeusean customs." Troi pulled out her most charming smile, the one she only wore to the most boring diplomatic functions.
"I'd be happy to show you some, if you wanted to come back to my cabin," Zaphod offered.
"I doubt your delegation would appreciate you deserting them, President Beeblebrox," Picard said. "If you'll pardon me." He returned to where the truly important members of the delegation were talking. Beeblebrox was a figurehead, elected purely on outlaw-popularity. The powers that ran the system were pleased to allow him the privileges of being opresident as long as he left all the legislation strictly up to them. He was barred from sitting on council meetings, banned from the legislative process, and discouraged from diplomatic processes. All of which suited Zaphod just fine.
"Your drink, Mr. President," said Guinan, setting the glass near him.
He tasted it. "Not bad. How about three more for the road?"
"Are you going somewhere?" asked Troi in her best "humoring the delegate" tone.
"Back to the table. I wanna see the stars A space ship with windows. What'll they think of next?"
Seeing she was stuck, Troi got herself a chocolate malt and followed him. If she was a distraction, she was going to be a good one. But she was not going to get pinched again.
Back at the table, she let Zaphod talk. He chatted on and on, drinking with his right head. It was getting a decidedly dozy look about the eyes. He was telling her a lengthy story about an android with a personality problem and an uncooperative ships' computer when it fell asleep.
"Hey, wake up. Zaphod prodded the right head a bit, but it snored away. Gently, he tipped it so it could breathe and the snoring stopped.
"So, I used to date an Earthgirl. Are mating customs still the same?"
Troi tried not to choke on her mouthful of ice-cream. "I'm not from Earth, President Beebledbrox," she evaded, as neatly as she could.
"Cool. Where are you from?"
"Betazed."
"Never heard of it. But it's a big galaxy. You look a lot like the earthers."
"The rest of your delegation looks human, too. Why do you have two heads, while they do not?"
"Because I'm the coolest frood in the galaxy, babe, and I have to be twice as smart as everyone around me." The good mood evaporated as he looked at the bottom of the glass.
"I'll get the code from Guinan and program the table for it." Troi rose to go, and felt a distinct pinch on her backside again.
"And that's why I've got three arms," Zaphod leered at her.
"He'd be tolerable if he'd grow out of his protracted adolescence," Troi whispered to Guinan as she got the code. Guinan tripled the amount of ethanol in the drink, and added a mild sedative.
Troi punched in the drink at the table. Zaphod smiled at her again. He wasn't bad looking, and she'd always liked tall men, but he was insufferable. He had gotten into a discussion as to which of the entrees at Milliway's Restaurant were best, and then attempted to explain the compound interest and hypermathematics involved in dining there.
A few more stories, accompanied by several more drinks and soon the left head was dozing off in mid-sentence. Troi coaxed him into finishing one more, and the heads were soon snoring placidly on the table. As she slipped out of the booth, one roused enough to reach for her, but she evaded the pinch.
She delivered her milkshake glass to Guinan. Picard joined her.
"Mission accomplished, Captain. President Beeblebrox will be incapacitated until tomorrow afternoon if I calculated his alcohol intake correctly. He is out of the delegation's way and mine as well."
"Splendid work, counselor. I'll see you get a citation for performance above and beyond the call of duty." He winked at her. "And maybe some hazard pay as well."
As Picard went back to finish the end of his diplomacy, Troi leaned across the bar. "Thank you, Guinan."
"Our little secret, honey. Just performance above and beyond the call of duty." The ancient being's eyes sparkled.