Disclaimer: Star Trek: The Next Generation and all of its characters are the property of Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: A 'missing scene' from the third season episode "Captain's Holiday", to clear up a lingering mystery.

Many thanks to Lori and Seema for the beta.

WHAT I DID ON MY RISIAN VACATION
By Rocky

A decidedly feminine shadow fell across the pages of his old-fashioned book, and Picard groaned inwardly. This was the fourth one in the past half hour, seventh overall. And like the others, she showed no signs of going away, despite being ignored.

"I'm Ilora," the blonde murmured, brushing her honey-toned arm against his. Her gravity-defying bathing suit seemed to consist of only a few thin strings.

"Pleased to meet you," Picard said stiffly. The strong odor of her perfume made his nostrils twitch. He tried to concentrate on the page in front of him.

Ilora perched on his armrest and leaned closer. "What are you doing?"

"Catching up on my reading."

"That's a funny way to spend your vacation!" she giggled. "Especially when there are so many better things to do." This last part was said suggestively, leaving no doubt as to what 'better things' consisted of.

Picard sighed and finally looked up. While perhaps a bit lacking in the intelligence department, Ilora was clearly well-endowed in other areas. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but I'd really prefer to get back to my book."

"Then why do you have that?" She gestured toward the Horga'hn on the table beside Picard, then placed her hand on his thigh at the exact spot where the fabric of his shorts ended.

"It's for a friend of mine," Picard said. The words sounded unconvincing even to him.

"I'm sure." Ilora leaned in even closer.

Picard turned his head to the side to avoid being suffocated, all the while thinking, "Will Riker is a dead man, no two ways about it." Aloud, he said, "Miss, please--"

"Ilora."

"Miss Ilora, please, I really think you've got the wrong idea--"

Abruptly, she pulled back. "Fine. Whatever." Ilora swung her flowing mane of hair over her shoulders. "Enjoy your reading," she called as she stalked off.

Picard breathed a sigh of relief, and hoped there would be no further interruptions.

A short while later he stretched, closed his book, and rose to his feet. It was nearly midday; the sun was getting stronger, and he was hungry. He gathered his things together--a bit awkwardly, as the Horga'hn didn't have much in the way of handholds--and started back to the hotel.

"Excuse me!"

Picard turned around and saw a shapely redhead in a sarong running toward him. He bit back an impatient sigh. "Yes?"

"I believe you dropped this," she said with a smile.

Picard looked at what she was holding, then glanced down at the pile in his arms and did a quick inventory. Hat, sunscreen, water bottle, Riker's wretched statue--but no book. "Yes, I did," he said gratefully. "I hadn't even realized it had gone missing. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said. Her eyes were the same shade as the sea glistening in the sunlight. "Not something you'd care to lose. Fascinating anthropological studies, and a mine of information on ancient cultures and their beliefs."

"Have you read the Master's work?" he inquired, surprised.

"Oh, yes. Many times. In fact, you could say I'm something of an expert on the topic."

"Really?" Picard said, his interest flaring. Finally--a chance for some stimulating conversation. "Well, how do you feel about some literary analysis, say, over lunch?"

"I'd love to," she said, taking his arm.

He smiled and made sure he had a firm grip on his book with his other hand. After all, he'd hate to lose his vintage copy of the "Kama Sutra."

FINIS

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