Chocolate
By astraplain@yahoo.com


Deanna trotted back to the replicator one last time, 
enjoying a very different kind of morning aerobics 
than she was used to. Her dearest friend, Beverly 
Crusher had left just 30 minutes ago for a ten day 
medical conference on Risa. Deanna had been 
replicating chocolate like a madwoman ever since.

Giving her final order, she lifted the large dish of 
Thalian chocolate mousse from the replicator and 
turned towards the table. A wave of pure lust sheared 
through her making her feel faint. Chocolate nirvana 
had been achieved.

She placed the mousse in the center, the place of 
honor for the most sacred of chocolate confections. 
That, she would save for last. But now...

She circled the table like a hawk, careful and 
cunning in her assessment of what lay before her. In 
her hand was a spoon, clutched tightly, her weapon of 
power. With is she would conquer this most worthy 
adversary.

A-ha! A weakness. The place where she must begin. 
Chocolate chip cookies. The only item that entirely 
chocolate on the whole table. They must be the first 
to go.

Laying aside her spoon, she lifted the soft chewy 
cookie, appreciating it's color and texture like a 
true connoisseur. A delicate sniff. Ah, the aroma of 
brown sugar and chocolate. Perfection.

And now... the taste.  Not taking the time to sit, 
she lifted the morsel to her lips, letting it graze 
oh-so-lightly against her sensitized flesh. A shiver 
caught her unawares, making her pause just a moment. 
But she persevered. She had a mission, a sacred 
calling...

Ten years she had waited for this. Ten long years of 
denial and frustration. Countless times had she been 
denied, suffering again and again as she struggled 
against oppression. 

The Starfleet officers' Physical Conditioning 
Standard was the official name but anyone not blessed 
with a perfect body had other names for it. None of 
them repeatable within earshot of an admiral. Or the 
CMO. 

Beverly tried to be sympathetic, really she did, with 
her dancers legs crossed and her reed-thin body 
making a mockery of everything she said. What did she 
know of dieting, of denying herself, of exercising 
for hours every day and still hating the way the 
uniform showed every extra ounce?

It didn't matter now, Deanna reminded herself, 
stroking the cooking against her lips for 
reassurance, anticipating the ecstasy that awaited 
her.

After ten long years of having her replicator 
privileges restricted, rationed, measured... it was 
finally over. For once, the Beverly had forgotten, 
failing to invoke her usual "vacation orders" as she 
called them - putting restrictions on Deanna's 
chocolate replication. This time, finally, Deanna 
could eat all the chocolate she wanted for ten 
glorious days.

One final caress, and the cookie was hers! She bit 
into the sweet, savoring the crisp surface and the 
softness inside. There was an explosion of flavor 
against her palate and she leaned back to enjoy it to 
the fullest.

And nearly choked. In a panic she rose for her chair, 
snatching up a napkin and indelicately spitting the 
cookie into it. Shuddering with revulsion she 
staggered to the replicator and ordered water. After 
the third glass the foul taste started to go away.

Desperation seized her and she turned back to the 
table, grabbing dishes randomly, taking the merest 
taste form each disk and dropping them back to the 
surface with a crash. It's not true! It can't be 
true!

Tears filled her eyes as she sampled the mousse, 
casting it away from her as the taste fouled her 
palate.

No!

She looked around wildly, trying to convince herself 
that this was a nightmare, that she could wake up and 
escape. It was only then she noticed the message 
indicator light.

Beverly!

She listened to the brief message, anger overtaking 
her despair. This was too much. Instead of being 
denied her sacred chocolate, she was to be tortured 
with chocolate substitutes! The horror!

Enough!

She deleted the message with a savage stab at the 
controls then stalked over to the table, flinging 
dishes into the recycler none-too-accurately. All the 
while the anger grew inside of her.

Until something snapped...

Looking up she caught her reflection in the 
replicator panel. Facing this image of herself, she 
made a vow.

Payback's a bitch, she decided. But then, so am I.

:::end:::