Her Reflection

scarlettglovedpoet@hotmail.com

So I've been working on this add - on to "Face of The Enemy" and also a Imzadi scene rich companion to "The Host." Please excuse typos. Paramount owns the characters. Enjoy! Let me know what you think. - Amanda Gayle
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He stood in the at the center point, halfway between the doors of sickbay and the biobed she was sitting on. She didn't know exactly how to feel about the things she'd been through in the past few days – she felt the energy draining out of her as she was finally still, both emotionally and physically. Perched on the edge of the bed, Deanna tried not to focus on the thoughts floating to surface in her mind. She played with her hands nervously, glancing up to meet Will's gaze. He'd been standing in the same spot for several minutes just staring in her direction.
"Will, what are you doing?" She asked him, looking deeply, curiously into his beautiful blue eyes.
"I'm memorizing your face," he said simply and softly. He didn't move, just stood there his hands behind his back.
"Commander," she said drawing the word out, her accent thick. The counselor pulled her gaze from his once more looking down. "You've been looking at my face for almost ten years now. I doubt you're going to forget what it looks like."
"Let's just say I want to remember," he said walking over to her. Riker leaned close, whispering in her ear. "And never take for granted again how lucky I am to look at the face of a woman I love every day." The commander leaned back, lifting Deanna's chin with the tip of his finger. "You are so beautiful."
"Thank you." She mouthed, squeezing his hand. He held her small fingers interlaced with his own.
"Dea, You're trembling." The counselor nodded slightly in acknowledgement. The commander glanced over to where Doctor Crusher stood talking to one of her nurses, nearby. He was able to catch her eye, as Beverly was already excusing herself from the Lt.
Will ran a soothing hand over Deanna's arm as the doctor approached.
"Everything okay?" Crusher asked.
"Bev, Deanna's shaking is there anything ..." But the counselor interrupted, not even attempting to hide the tiredness in her voice.
"It's been an intense few days, Commander. Nothing to be concerned over." Deanna looked to Beverly who watched the exchange as she reached down deep into her lab coat pocket and pulled free a hypospray.
"Listen to her Will. She knows what she's talking about," the doctor smiled, putting a hand gently on the counselor's back, trying to still the tremor that seemed to be making its way through the Betazoid's tiny frame. "I can give you something to help ease the anxiety, until you've had some rest and some time to sort through all you've been through."
Troi nodded her consent. Will brushed back the dark curls from Deanna's shoulders as Beverly released the medicine into her neck. He couldn't help feeling protective, knowing the stress of the facade the counselor had been forced to uphold aboard the warbird must have effected her deeply. She hated taking medicine for anything.
"There that should help." The doctor said. "You're free to go when you're ready Dea ..." She said as the counselor began to ease herself from the biobed. "And Deanna I want you to take a couple of days off. Get some sleep, read a good book, take some time for yourself Counselor."
"Okay, Thank you Beverly." The doctor hugged her friend.
"Good to have you back." She said, nudging Riker in the arm. "Go get her something to eat commander. I'm sure the traditional Romulan cuisine she's been eating has been less than appetizing. She's probably starving." Beverly winked and Deanna smiled as the doctor walked away.
"I brought you something to wear," Riker told her, gesturing toward the bag he'd lay down next to her. The counselor peeked inside, pulling out a well-worn pair of blue jeans (one of the most comfortable items of clothing she owned, she'd had them for years), socks and sneakers, and an oversized long sleeved tee – shirt that had belonged to Riker himself.
"Perfect." She said, stretching up to kiss his cheek.
"Go," he told her. "Go change. We'll go have some dinner." He took comfort in the smile he saw gracing her face as she disappeared into an exam room to take of the sickbay gown she was wearing and put on something of her own.

Will lay in the darkness of his quarters thinking about the meal he'd just shared with Deanna. He was surprised she'd made it through the entire dinner without nodding off, but he'd managed to get her to eat some soup and a salad, though didn't have to twist her arm to convince her to share a piece of chocolate cake with him for dessert. He and Deanna had chosen to eat in one of her favorite places onboard the ship. While most officers spent there off duty time socializing in Ten-Forward, Deanna sometimes enjoyed getting away from all of the chatter and battering of being in close contact with so many emotions. There was an observation deck on Deck 15 with a few tables and Riker had replicated some dinner for the two of them and they'd hidden away at a table near the window of the empty room.
While he sipped on some coffee, Deanna had accepted a hot cup of tea and she opened up about her time aboard the warbird and the fears she'd had to suppress while impersonating a member of the Tal Shiar. She'd explained how she'd gone to sleep one night at the neurophysiology seminar she'd been attending and had woken up to darkness & a pounding headache. She'd been dizzy and unable to stay steady on her feet, finally standing when the computer hadn't responded to her request for lights. When Deanna had finally found the button that would bring up the lights she was staring into the mirror at the face of a Romulan. She had been drugged, surgically altered, and only moments after awakening – without much briefing from the man who'd brought her onboard, she had been paraded in front of the ship's Commander, Toreth.
Listening, Will could finally hear the fear and anxiety Deanna felt aboard the ship of one of the Federation's most threatening enemies. He knew because of Deanna's own personality – her gentle nature, other's may have been surprised by her performance under such pressure. But Will had seen the other side of the Enterprise's counselor on several occasions, and he knew that at times what was mistaken as fragility was actually an inner strength that could withstand many a challenge. He ached for what she had gone through, having to be so strong and quick on her feet – knowing that she lacked that natural aggression expected of the Romulans and especially the Tal Shiar as well as command and tactical experience.
Her eyes teared up as she spoke of the sacrifice of Subcommander N'Vek and how she'd watched Toreth have him vaporized as he stood next to her. He knew if they'd not gotten Deanna off that ship when they did, it could have been mere moments before she was served the same fate. Deanna knew it as well. He could tell the brush with her own mortality, coming so close to losing her life was something she was having trouble dealing with. For now, she had the emotions held in check tightly within her chest. Having been in dangerous positions many times himself, Will knew she would need to talk about it – to get it out. She wasn't ready yet. He focused on his own emotions – his relief at having her back and safely onboard the ship, his love for her, feelings of contentment and comfort. He hoped she'd felt his protectiveness sheltering her and that the positive emotions had overshadowed his own fears – the fears that had threatened to overwhelm him when he saw her on the warbird and stood helpless on the bridge of their own ship, unable to do anything to help her.
Riker found his mind floating in between sleep and consciousness as he thought about the things he and Deanna had discussed at dinner. She'd insisted she would be alright when he dropped her off at her quarters and after getting ready for bed, himself – he found that despite the tiredness he felt in his muscles, the heaviness of his eyelids, a deep and restful sleep was refusing to come. So he settled for the in between.
Just as the commander's body was about to give in to the sleep it had been fighting, he heard a rustling and opened his eyes. Will lay there staring up at the ceiling for a moment before turning his head in the direction the sound had come from. Leaning against the frame of the doorway to his bedroom, stood Deanna. She was wearing the shirt he had taken to her in sickbay earlier, Riker written on the left side in small blue letters. The sleeves were pushed up to her elbows. The shirt fell just above her knees, her legs bare. Her curly hair was down, the length of it, brushing against her shoulders. She looked beautiful. Achingly tired, but beautiful.
Will looked at her as she stared in his direction saying nothing, just absorbing his presence.
"Imzadi," He said softly, "What are you doing all the way over there?" He grinned and she smiled over at him. He propped himself up on his arm, turning over and waiting for her response.
"I wanted to memorize your face," She said sweetly. He chuckled.
"And you walked all the way from your quarters to mine in your sleep shirt?" He teased her. "I'm sure there are quite a few happy young ensigns that were glad to pass you in the night."
She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, biting down slightly on her lip. "There was a robe."
"Ah," He stood up. "You know as a person who has recently had the privilege of memorizing someone's face." He said as he walked over to her. "I would imagine it to be a whole lot more difficult, in the dark and from so far away." He pulled her into his arms and she buried her face in his chest. Deanna pulled him tight, her palms flat on his bare back. He was warm and so safe.
"I couldn't sleep." She murmured, muffled against him.
"Me either." He told her, resting his head on top of hers.
"Will?" She chided.
"What?" He asked playfully. "I wasn't asleep … yet – almost. But I seem to be having a waking dream. This gorgeous woman I know – "
"Imzadi," She asked pulling away so that she could look up at him. "Is – is this okay? Me being here?"
"Why would you even ask that Dea?" He said, taking both her hands in his. "Best way I've been woken up in a very long time."
"I thought you weren't asleep," she laughed lightly, tugging at one of his hands. But Will was busy watching her, looking intently at her face. Her dark eyes with sleepy circles under them, smudged a bit from what little makeup she had put on before dinner. The tip of her nose was red, her cheeks dotted pink and he could tell she had been crying before she'd come to him. He left her for a second, right where she stood, and went into his bathroom. Will dipped a washcloth under some warm water and wrung it out, walking over to her. Without a word, he put one hand underneath her hair – so easy to become tangled in, and cupped her neck. Deanna leaned back, her face turned upward and her eyes closed as Riker began to gently run the cloth over her face. He wiped the warmth of it over her forehead, under her eyes, her cheeks, her nose, that aristocratic little chin and then he repeated the action – soothing her.
When he had finished, he looked down at his Imzadi. Her eyes still closed to his touch and he kissed her lightly on her cheek, the tip of her nose, before moving to the other cheek, her forehead, and then lightly, her left eye, the right. Finally giving her a soft kiss on her lips. Deanna opened her eyes, those deep onyx orbs and whispered to him.
"I couldn't look in the mirror." He had known without her even saying the words. He hugged her to him again.
"You know, your side of the bed has been awfully cold lately." He felt her smile and then nod her against him. He kissed the top of her head before, taking her hand and leading her over to his bed. Will climbed in, before lifting up the covers and pulling Deanna down next to him. She snuggled into his embrace.
"How do you know I still like the same side of the bed?" She asked him with a yawn. He ran his hands up and down her back, until he felt her relax against him.
"Some things never change Imzadi," He breathed out against her ear.
"Some things ..." She repeated. "Will, what if someone … ?" She let her voice trail off feeling childish, her mind already heavy with sleep.
"Not on my watch, Dea." He told her, hugging her close. "Not on mine." Will felt Deanna's breath even out and he knew she'd fallen into a much needed sleep. He glanced over at the soft glow of light coming from the open window … the shade up, the stars moving in bright lines. In the glass he could make out her face, as she lay against him, her head on his chest. Immaculate reflection. He closed his eyes, welcoming the restful sleep he knew would now come, everything back as it should be.

END