Be warned, it is for adults only.


Two Days

(All disclaimers to those who require them. Will and Deanna are not mine................yet)


It had been two days. Two whole days. Forty-eight hours since she’d said it. Finally said what had been on her mind more and more during the last few years. She’d said it and not in the usual way, oh no, not in her mind, where it would stay secret, a soul-twisting truth, desperate for release, but always denied this in favour of the mantra – Not while we’re serving on the same ship, not while we’re serving on the same ship. Oh no. She’d said it. Out loud. Very loud. In fact she’d screamed it at him.

They’d just come back from a minor skirmish on Tealon, and he’d been hurt. Will Riker, invincible, irascible, incredible and thoroughly irritating. As usual she’d had to witness his pain, it was her eyes that he sought out when the shot hit home, her eyes that calmed him, and her eyes that begged him to hold on. It was to her he turned when he needed help, truth, calm or a safe haven. It was she who willed him to hold on, to be safe to stay with her. And he responded, as he always did, and he stayed. For he couldn’t do anything else but stay with her. It wasn’t possible. They would never be apart, even if they weren’t together. That was how it had been, how it was and how it would be forever more.

She paced back and forth in her quarters, the light dimmed, full strength being way too bright for her frame of mind. The thoughts that swirled through her mind were way too confusing for brightness, too worrying, too…………..hopeful. That night had been a revelation to them both. A revelation of an already revealed fact. They already knew it. They just didn’t admit to it, no, that would be all together too easy.

She cast her mind back to that night. As usual, Beverly had patched him up, muttering under her breath about him getting his own bed put in, or at least leaving a change of clothes in Sick-Bay before he left on a mission. He had taken her remarks in the intended manner, his smiling eyes meeting her own relieved ones, as the good doctor muttered under her breath. When the patchwork was completed, and he was decreed healthy again, they had taken the well-worn route back to his quarters, and had sat together, curled companionably on his sofa, relief permeating the air.

She had sat there, coiled around him, letting the relief wash over her. He was safe, he was whole and he’d done it to her again. They were friends now, best friends and he’d done it to her again. He’d shown her the truth about the way she felt. The truth she’d known, had always known. Damn him, damn him for getting shot, damn him for being hurt, and damn him for reminding her how much she loved him. For she did, no matter how she told her heart to feel, it always rebelled and filled with love for him. True, eternal love, everlasting, passionate love. Which would never come to anything because of that stupid bloody mantra – not while we’re serving on the same ship, not while we’re serving on the same ship. She sighed, a long, mournful sound, and he looked down at her, trying to read her body language, trying to read her mind, as she had taught him all those long years ago. She felt him, felt his tentative attempts at reading her, and her mind screamed to let him in. But she couldn’t. Too many what if’s jumped out to attack. What if he didn’t feel as strongly (of course he does, she told herself, admit it), what if he didn’t want her (good grief, can’t you feel it? Can’t you see how much he wants you?), what if he gets hurt again (then at lease you’ll have had this time together), what if – aaaaaaaaagggggghhh screamed her psyche. Do it! But she couldn’t.

“Deanna? What is it?” and the love and trust in his voice was her undoing. She had stood and paced the room, much as she was doing now. She had turned to him, swatting at the revealing tears that were streaming from her blazing eyes.

“For the love of the gods Will, why do you keep doing this? Why do this to me? I can’t do it anymore! I won’t do it anymore. You always turn to me, it’s always me. You always come to me and then it all goes back to normal. Whatever the hell normal is. There’s a flash every now and then, I’m there when you need me, and then you don’t want me any more. Well I can’t do it anymore, Will.”

“Dee?” The puzzlement and hint of understanding in his blue, blue eyes caused the next outburst. It was his eyes that did it, always his eyes, those emotive, fathomless entirely bemusingly beautiful eyes.

“Will Riker, are you a complete idiot? Can’t you see what you have here? For the love of the gods Will, I love you. I always have, and I always will. I love you so much it hurts. Seeing you beam off the ship, never knowing if you’ll come back, knowing that I didn’t tell you, knowing that you still think I don’t love you anymore, when I do, I love you so much” and she ran.

Ran from him, afraid, afraid of the rejection she was sure she would see. Yes, there would be love in his eyes, she knew that, but his love for the ship, for the career, and for the Enterprise would win out. It always did. In each of the conversations she’d had with him about this, the career had won, and she’d come a poor second. Of course, he knew nothing about these conversations, the countless times she’d told him of her true, never-ending love for him. No, those talks had been entirely one-sided, with both parts played herself. She’d left him standing in his quarters, his mind reeling with the avalanche of love she’d just revealed to him. Left him to sort it all out. To find ways of avoiding her, as he would feel he should, to avoid her until she got herself back under control, or got a transfer, which ever came first.

She had stayed in her quarters, giving thanks to the rota-fairy, or whomever it was that had previously given her the following two days off. And she had not seen anyone, had sent out a message that she was not to be disturbed, that she was meditating and it was vitally important that she was not to be disturbed. And she hadn’t been. Not even by him. And that was a sign, a sure sign.

And then he was there. Outside her door, anticipation, fear and, and something else running through him. A cauldron of emotions, a cacophony of feelings, a recipe of intenseness, a………. and the chimes rang again.

And then he was standing in front of her. Had used his knowledge, had remembered how to be with her, how to get to her. He stood in front of her, open, readable, emitting fear, hope, love and excitement in a jumble of emotions. Cascading her with his thoughts, small, delicious thoughts coming at her from every angle.  Wrapping her with his mind.

She stood, eyes tightly shut, fists clenched by her sides. And he touched her. Physically this time, lightly running his fingers up her arms, her name a breath on his lips. And the hope in that voice, the fear. She opened her eyes and lot herself in his. Falling into the blue. Falling in love, all over again. For it was all written there, imprinted on his souls, readable in his beautiful eyes. Her heart lifted, but still, still she needed to hear him say it. And her eyes asked the question, and she at last got the answer she needed.

“Deanna, I love you.”

And that was all she needed to hear, for his mind told her the rest. His emotions told her what she needed to know. His love was all too evident, all too forthright, and always true. She felt his love reach out and surround her heart, felt it claim and capture her soul. He loved her. And she loved him. And that was all they needed to know.

He watched her eyes after her told her the truth. And smiled as her saw the reaction. And smiled even more as he felt the reaction. Felt her hands snake up around his neck, and felt her soft lips brush against his. Felt the kiss deepen as they gave into the inevitable.

Will kissed her, softly at first, nibbling softly at her lips, his tongue gently demanding entrance. He held her face, wrapping his hands in her silky hair, relishing the memories that arose. And then memories disappeared, as a whole new set of feelings arose in him. And she smiled into the kiss as she felt the difference in his body. The kiss deepened still further, as she leaned into him, the feel of her body against him eliciting a soft moan deep within.

Her hands stroked the back of his neck, smooth sure strokes, a sensual massage. As the kiss broke, she ran her hands down the front of his broad chest. Their eyes met, and locked on one another. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, as her hands found his and she led him to her bedroom.

“Dee – “ he started, but stopped as she put a gentle finger against his lips, smiling at him. He smiled back at her, and allowed the journey to continue.

“Yes, I do, this is exactly what I want. This, “ she paused, “ this is what I – no, what WE need Will. We need to be together. We are meant to be together, and to deny it, well, it’s just too much work. Will, you are meant for me, and I am meant for you. That’s how it is. That’s how it’s meant to be. And that” she kissed him, “ is how” another kiss, “ it will always be” and her eyes glinted up at him, her meaning becoming evident. His heart lit up, what she was proposing was what he had always wanted, needed, known in his heart.

“Deanna, are you saying what I think you’re saying? Are you…, Dee are you proposing to me?” His blue eyes sparkling with love and hope.

She smiled at him. “William T. Riker, will you marry me?”

His answer came in the form of a soul-inspiring kiss. “Yes, yes oh yes Deanna” he cried into her mind. And then out loud. “Deanna, yes, my love, yes”

And they came together again, his kiss reaching down into her soul. He wrapped his arms around her, running his fingers up and down her spine. She arched into him, her body tingling with desire and anticipation. Her fingers explored his body, working their way under his top, and he shivered as she came into contact with skin, exploring further, tantalising, kneading, stroking. His kisses trailed their way down to her long neck, kisses featherlike and enticing, surreptitious and full of ownership. Her hands continued their exploration, meeting behind him, running along the rim of his trousers. He buried his head in her neck and groaned, both all to aware of the effect her touch was having on him. Her hands slipped further down, coming to rest on his backside, and he pushed into her, his erection warm and hard against her thigh. 

Deanna wrapped a long leg around his, bringing him even closer, opening herself to him. His kisses moved further down, meeting the fabric of the flimsy top she wore. His hands worked their way under the top, moving upwards to her breasts. Returning her leg to the floor, she slowly raised her arms, and he peeled the top away. She shivered as the regulated air hit her, shivered in anticipation, and then shivered as she felt his warm mouth enclose her left breast, while his warm hands massaged the other. Again she arched herself into him, her hands roaming up and down his back. She pulled back slightly, unwilling to break the contact his warm mouth was providing, but even more anxious to feel him against her, to feel his skin, to see the wonderful muscles rippling across his broad chest.

He kissed her again, this time the trail of kisses from her collarbone down to her breasts, where he lavished both of them equally. She moaned softly, loving the feeling of the light kisses he ran along the underside of each one. He licked and sucked each breast, nipping and nibbling, teeth lightly grazing. Just as her legs began to give way, he wrapped two strong arms around her waist, and held her up. His kisses trailed their way down to her flat belly, circling her navel and then on downwards. Kneeling in front of her, his long fingers began to work their way up her legs, under her long gypsy skirt. Gathering the material along his arms, his fingers danced their way up her legs, his lips never forgoing their exploration of her stomach. His fingers finally reached their destination and came to rest at the top of her legs, resting on the evidence of her arousal. He held his hand still, the other hand reaching down to the clasp on the front of his own trousers. Deanna’s head fell back, as he slowly began to rub her, the thin fabric of her pants the only thing between them now. He stood, never breaking to contact with her, staring at her, as their eyes met. Not a word was said, and yet there was complete acceptance, complete love, and complete lust.

He bunched her skirt up around her hips, and stepped out of his trousers, kicking them away from him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew herself against him, the feel of skin on skin electrifying. He reached in again, hooking a finger around the edge of her pants, balancing her as she stepped out of them. He traced her with his finger, feeling her shiver. He held himself against her, moving softly, rubbing against her, close to abandoning all reality, close to delivering his soul to her. Hands reached around him, delving into his boxer shorts, feeling him, touching him. A small hand came to rest on his erection, and he stilled, his mind awash with desire. Boxers were soon discarded and they stood, together, about to become one.

 Her skirt still bunched around her hips, he lifted her against his naked body, loving the feel of her fingers as she ran her hands over his muscles. He backed them up, coming to rest against the bedroom wall.  Will looked at her, looked deep into her eyes, slowly leaning in to kiss her. The felt her, damp against him, his erection straining hard against her. He kissed her, a long slow, enticing kiss. Again he looked at her, and slowly entered her, driving into her as far as he could, pausing, releasing and then entering once again. They never broke eye contact as they came together again and again, harder and faster than ever before. Their bodies were hot and slippery, but his strength never wavered, and he held her there as he made love with her, as she gave herself to him, as their souls fused. Their breath came in pants, as they rode each other, their passion soaring, their love sealing in each other. There would never be anyone else, they belonged to each other. Will drove into her, and she arched as she received him, the feel of him inside her was tantalising, enticing, exotic and right, so, so right. He was there, in her soul, in her heart and in her love. The passion rose in her, the feelings deep inside rising to the surface and as she came, the love inside her exploded around her, her mind reaching out for him. He felt her, she was close, and when it happened, her soul reached out for him and drew him in with her, and he came in an explosion of love and light and screaming peace. He was home, he was here and he would stay.

His eyes finally opened, to be met by a long gaze from a pair of trusting, loving black eyes. She smiled down at him, and he slowly released her, placing her down on the floor. 

“Dee, “ he breathed. “Deanna Troi, I love you. I really truly love you.”

“I noticed” she smiled, wrapping her leg around him once more, feeling him against her.

“No, Dee, what I’m trying to say is thank-you for the wake-up call. I mean I knew I loved you, but, well I guess “ and the rest was swallowed in a kiss, her exotic voice caressing his mind with a simple explanation.

<Will, I love you, you love me. What more do you need to know? >

<Only this Dee, only this>, he replied as he carried her to the bed, his body and soul once again reunited with him.