The request behind this was to write a short coda to the novel "Imzadi II" by
Peter David. This piece takes place where "Imzadi II" leaves off, about a
year thereafter, and begins anew, again...


"Coda to Imzadi II"
by QDestinyy@aol.com


"Computer, begin recording." Commander William Riker took a deep breath and
pulled on his uniform top. The latter was a habit he'd borrowed from his
Captain and commanding officer, Jean-Luc Picard, but it seemed somehow
appropriate to a moment of uncertainty. There was something in the snap of
the wrist that brought finality to any half-formed decision. He'd made up
his mind at last.

More correctly, he'd made up his mind nearly twelve months ago. Only now it
was clear that he might finally do something about it. Providing the option
was still open. And he hoped that it was. Of course, only time would tell.

Riker cringed when he remembered the last time he'd used the word 'time' in
this particular context. Deanna Troi had thrown several large and extremely
breakable objects in his direction -- narrowly missing him -- and she had not
spoken to him afterward for nearly a week.

Their argument in the Troi mansion had been about whether or not they should
begin a relationship together. The kind of relationship that went well
beyond the comfortable feeling of friendship they'd been sharing for so many
years on board the Enterprise.

The problem wasn't that Riker didn't want that. On the contrary, the problem
was that it took every ounce of willpower in his body to keep from claiming
her in the most primal way imaginable. Even though he'd known that it
wouldn't be right. Not for her and, when he thought more about it, certainly
not for him.

She was hurting, although she hadn't admitted anything of the sort to this
day. Riker had known it for a fact. The way he knew a lot of other things
he hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge in the nine years that preceded the
crash. With the destruction of the "D" so fresh in their minds, came the
sort of unimpeachable clarity that only a healthy dose of survivor guilt
could engender.

What if...

Worf had asked Deanna to marry him. The Klingon chief of security, whom she
had been seeing for nearly a year previously, had finally arrived at the
conclusion that he was in love with her. And Deanna had certainly expressed
that she loved him as well -- to Riker as well as a few other close friends.

But that was before. Before Riker's ubiquitous doppelganger broke out of a
Cardassian prison and set into motion a series of events which would -- once
again -- alter the lives of several members of the Enterprise crew forever.

Riker had to hand it to Tom, he certainly had a talent for stopping the
universe dead on its axis and then spinning the whole thing around in the
opposite direction. And he'd nearly gotten himself killed this time in the
process.

Deanna was upset about that as well. Of course, she'd added it to the
growing list of things which, Riker thought, he was sure she was upset about,
and she had simply 'moved on'. It was the Betazoid thing to do: to keep an
even-tempered mental keel. And so, from the moment that Deanna Troi had
rejoined the Enterprise crew in transit to the brand new NCC1701-E, her
manner had been as unaffected as though she hadn't been through a near-death
experience herself.

When she finally did acknowledge Riker's existence again, it was as if
nothing had ever happened, and neither of them had spoken of those days since
then. Not even once.

<You have been silent for seventy-eight seconds. Pause recording?> The
voice of the computer startled Riker from his thoughts.

"No, continue recording," he pulled his hands backward through his hair,
"personal log, Commander William T. Riker, stardate xxxxx.x. It's been
almost a year now, since Tom escaped from Qo'nos. There are times when I
don't know whether to feel relieved or worried that he's still out there --
somewhere. I mean, I guess in a way, he and I are almost brothers. But we
really couldn't be more different. I mean--" Riker paused, considering for
a moment whether that was wholly accurate or not, "Tom is probably what I
would be, if very little in my life had gone the way I'd planned it. And
if--" Riker trailed off, staring at his own reflection in a nearby mirror.
He watched his face shift when he frowned and then lifted his hand to touch
the edge of the beard he'd been wearing for the past several years. "--If I
hadn't had Deanna here with me," Riker admitted, "I'd probably have taken a
few different pathways myself over the years."

But Deanna had been 'here' with him, on board the Enterprise. And Riker had
made a number of decisions that impacted both his life and his career because
of that one simple truth.

The first, and perhaps more surprising of these, had been the decision to
stay on board. Despite several offers for promotion. Despite the undeniable
lure of the captain's chair on board some other vessel; a ship which might
have everything he'd ever dreamed it could. Except that it wouldn't have the
one thing he'd come to realize he needed; needed even more than all his other
dreams combined. It wouldn't have her.

Riker smiled sardonically at his reflection in the glass. All his life, his
career, his ambitions, all of the things he'd dreamed of since he was a boy
... and it all came down to the kind of lunacy he'd once have howled with
laughter at the very prospect of. Well he couldn't laugh anymore. At least,
not without including himself in the list of addressees.

Because here he was ... standing in his cabin on the tenth year of his tenure
as Commander and first officer of the U.F.P Enterprise. And the only reason
he was still here, despite the constant vigilance of friends and colleagues
to see him on a ship that soared through the stars with a mission of his very
own ... was because, like so many other damn fools in the annals of recorded
history .... Commander William T. Riker was in love.

"Computer, end log," he exhaled quietly, "and wish me luck."

The computer beeped twice and a familiar female voice returned the query,
<please restate request>

"I said--" he trailed off and shook his head, "never mind."

<Request deleted> came the dutiful response.

"Yeah," Riker chuckled, "that's the story of my life."

~/tbc\~

Coda:  I2 -- cont... (part 2)


Riker hadn't intended on seeing Deanna when it happened.  They ran into each
other, purely by chance, three corridors away from stellar cartography on
deck twelve.  He was on his way to quarters and she--  well, he had no idea
where she was headed.

It was an odd thing running into Deanna, ever since they'd returned from
Qo'nos.  Odd, because it was almost like running head first into himself.  
Lwaxana Troi had seen to that when she'd gotten into Riker's head.  She'd
'linked' him to Deanna in a way that Riker could only correlate with being
cross-wired.  The thing was, he wasn't certain whether Deanna could feel it
too; only that ever since that fateful day on Betazed when the Troi matriarch
had charged him with rescuing her daughter, Riker found himself consumed with
the sense that Deanna wasn't just with him in his thoughts.  She was
everywhere.  In everything.  It was as amazing as it was terrifying.

In the months that turned into nearly a year following the commissioning of
the Enterprise-E, Riker had wanted to talk to Deanna about what happened.  
But they hadn't really done a lot of talking on the whole, at all.  He told
himself that there had been no viable opportunity for him to discuss these
sorts of things with her.   Or to find out whether she'd have any idea what
he was talking about if he did.  He told himself this, but a part of him knew
that it was more likely he was simply avoiding the issue -- and that she
probably was as well.  After all, their last 'discussion' had ended with
several broken heirlooms in the Troi mansion, and the slamming of the front
door when he fled Deanna's wrath.

Of course, she had more than one good reason to have been angry with him that
day.  He granted her that.  But he was only trying to do what seemed best ...
for both of them.  What he thought was best, at least.   

Worf had left that day, for a monastery on the Klingon homeworld.   He'd left
the Enterprise, and he'd left Deanna.  But more than that, he'd stepped
aside, offering only that he might never love Deanna to the depth and degree
that Riker did.

It was about as noble as it was damnable.  Because Worf had to have known
that Riker couldn't simply 'step in' and pick up the pieces.  No matter what
Deanna said she wanted; or thought she wanted.   She was hurting, and he was
hurting ... and Worf ... well, who the hell knew what it was like when
Klingons were hurting.  

It was probably a good thing that the former chief of security hadn't
remained on Qo'nos for very long.  Apparently life as a monk didn't suit
Worf's sensibilities, and he had opted to reclaim his career with Starfleet
-- accepting a senior position on board one of the farthest deep-space
stations in the alpha quadrant.

And Deanna ... Deanna and Will remained friends, as ever.  They'd neither
discussed the events leading up to that memorable day, nor had they discussed
their personal lives at all, beyond the simple pleasantries of day-to-day
familiarity.  

They played poker on Thursday nights.  They attended social gatherings.  They
talked, they laughed, they smiled ... and that was about it.  Eleven and
three quarter months later.  That was just about it...

Which was why, when Will Riker bumped into an obviously distracted Deanna
Troi on deck twelve:   He caught her shoulders to steady her, kept his eyes
on hers, and smiled in apology when he said, "Hey."

Deanna glanced up at him and seemed to realize only belatedly that he was
there.  "Will, I'm sorry, I must have been daydreaming."

"No crime in that, last I checked the regulations. Where you headed in such a
hurry?"

"Stellar cartography." Troi answered him without pause in the measure of her
pace.  

"This late in the afternoon? Weren't you on the graveyard shift for bridge
duty last night?"  When Deanna shrugged, Riker raised an eyebrow, "You took a
day of appointments?  But it's almost 1700..."

"Some of us have 'real jobs' on the Enterprise, you know.  We can't _all_ sit
on our backsides staring at a viewport."  Deanna smiled impishly.  

"Ouch," he played along.  "For your information, Counselor, sitting on my
backside takes a lot out of me."

"For _your_ information, Commander, I'm on my way to speak with Lieutenant
Mae regarding her team's appraisal this quarter.  And then I have three more
appointments with members of her team before the end of my shift."

Riker's manner must have betrayed some measure of his disappointment; because
Deanna changed the subject. "Where are -you- off too in such a hurry?"

"Actually," he drawled, "I was coming to see you."

"Liar."  Deanna placed her hands on her hips.

"Okay... I was heading down to Ten-Forward," he grinned, "Care to join me?"

Deanna looked crestfallen for an instant, "I'm afraid I won't be able to do
that for several hours more."

"You think you're going to be up for small talk after twenty-six hours on
duty?"

"Good point," Deanna sighed, "make that several days."

Riker frowned at her.

"Look, I didn't do this on purpose, Will.  I'm not out of my mind," she let
her shoulders fall and it was the first time since they'd started walking
together that Riker noticed how tired she truly looked.  "It just ended up
this way.  I think there was a scheduling conflict for senior bridge crew.  
The Captain--"

"Should have checked your schedule before he gave you eight hours of bridge
duty the night before a full day."  Riker argued.  It wasn't often that he
chastised his superior officer, but it was obvious this time that things
hadn't been accomplished with Jean-Luc Picard's usual flair for perfection.  
The fact that Deanna hadn't said a word to anyone didn't help matters.

"Well, you weren't there to draw up the schedule the way you usually do,"  
Troi smiled sweetly, plainly passing the buck, "and the Captain has a lot on
his mind."

"You should have said something."  

"To who?  All of us had active duty assignments this morning.  I'd have been
trading my discomfort for someone else's and how fair would that have been?"

Riker looked her over appraisingly and then stretched out his arm, halting
their progress down the corridor.  "What time do you have to be in SC?"

"About an hour from now," Deanna answered without hesitation, "I was going to
catch up on some paperwork first."

Riker smiled, "Come with me," he took hold of her arm, ignoring her perplexed
expression and the way she wasn't entirely following him at a willing pace.

"Where are we going?"

"Back to quarters," Riker belayed her argument with a wide smile, "Deanna, I
know you.  You haven't eaten yet today, and you're not going anywhere until
I'm satisfied that you're fit for duty."

When she stared at him askance, Riker forced himself not to accede.  By his
calculations, he had fewer than four seconds before she launched into a
tirade from which he would be helpless to escape.    "You have a whole hour,"
he cut her off gently, "--and--  I'm offering you chocolate," pausing for
emphasis, "the kind that only I can make."

At the mention of chocolate, Deanna tipped her head and he was sure he saw
her smile, though it was only for an instant.

"No more arguments?"  He considered that she might still be less than
certain.  But her posture deflated like a rag doll's.  Nodding silently, she
seemed to give in to the fatigue she was feeling -- if only for the moment.  
Will encountered no further resistance as he guided them both toward the
turbo lift door.

~/tbc\~

Coda I2 (part 3) ... continued ....


"--and the problem is," Deanna was saying, "some of them feel that Mae is
being overly strict with their personnel evaluations.  While others have no
problem at all.  It's begun to divide the team..."

"Has Mae approached anyone before now?" Riker set two mugs of something
steaming onto a nearby table and sat next to Deanna on the couch.  He watched
her gather the warm mug between her palms and hold it gratefully.  It was the
silliest little thing, but he'd always loved watching her do that...

Drawing a taste from the glass, Deanna smiled up at him, then wrinkled her
nose thoughtfully.  "No.  She said she'd hoped to resolve the matter
internally before asking for outside assistance, but now it's apparently
beginning to alter the way the team works together."

"That can be tough.  Some of them may request reassignment."  

"Yes, and that's exactly what I'd like to avoid.  I know lieutenant Mae.  Far
from being too strict, I think she's not strict enough.  There are members of
her team who take advantage of her time as though it were their own, and when
she asks them to work, they feel put-upon.  I really think there's an
unhealthy dynamic in that.  Were we to place any of the other officers from
any of the stricter team-leaders in Mae's group, they would probably embrace
her for being as liberal as she's being."

"So you think it's the team that needs talking to, not the leader."

"In this case?  Both."  Deanna sighed, "Obviously Mae will need to keep a
tighter hold on her group, but they will need to understand that work is not
a hardship placed upon them, it's expected of them, and they are expected to
follow orders, not draw up petitions.... what?"  asked Deanna, having paused
to regard Riker's smile.  "What did I say?"

"Nothing," he grinned, "It's just I can't believe how much you've changed."

"Changed?"

"From the day I met you?  Hell yeah.  What happened to the always
philosophical, lets analyze everything and form a meeting of minds
psychologist I once knew?"  Riker leaned forward and poked Deanna gently,
"she's got a little Starfleet in her -- that's what."

Deanna turned pink.  Taking a drink from her large mug, she set it on the
table in front of her and sat up straight.  "Well, maybe.  I suppose if
there's one thing I've learned to admire from serving in Starfleet, it has to
be the dedication of an officer."

"Such as yourself," Riker cut in, still smiling.

"I'm not talking about myself."

"I know that, but you _are_ an officer."

"Yes, well, so are you, what's your point?"

"I...don't...have... a point."  Riker grinned, placing both his feet up onto
the table and leaning back against the couch.

Deanna narrowed her eyes and regarded him suspiciously.  "Yes you do," she
argued, "you think you've won some kind of argument.  Something from our
past, and when I figure out what it is..."

"I know, I know, you're going to come back in here and remind me of the error
of my ways!"  

Deanna looked back at him in silence, but finally she shrugged,  "not if
you're right, I won't."

It took Riker a moment to realize there was a smile behind her deadly serious
expression.  When he did, he reached over and pulled her toward him,
eliciting a yelp of surprise and a short burst of laughter from the Counselor
when she fell.  Riker laid her back against his shoulder and whispered into
her hair, "so tell me about _you_."

Deanna, who for her part still seemed shocked at the event, finally settled.  
But there was an awkward silence before she said, "What do you mean?"

"I mean ... you know ... how are things?"

"Things?"   Riker was certain he could _feel_ her look of disbelief.

"We haven't talked.... for a long time.  Not really talked.  I was hoping to
talk," said Riker.

"Oh."  Deanna glanced nervously at the chrono on the wall, but for the first
time in her life since she'd known Will Riker, it seemed that time was moving
slowly in his company.  Only ten minutes had passed.  "Well... things are
fine."

"Famous last words, Counselor?" he chided her gently and Deanna made a short
effort to resettle herself in a position that was more comfortable.  But he
noticed -- she didn't move away from him.

"Honestly, Will, I think I'm almost too tired to think right now," she
admitted quietly, "you picked a odd time to ... talk."

"I know," Riker shook his head, "well, then lets not talk about things that
take effort."  Reaching around her, he lifted her warm glass from the table
and placed it back into her hands.  Deanna shifted marginally, but not enough
so that he could see her expression.  "You mentioned you were working on
personnel assignment reviews.  This has to be the first year we haven't done
those together, are you okay with that?"  

Truthfully, the reason they weren't doing them together was because Riker had
been rather suddenly reassigned to a matter of ship's urgency which Picard
deemed more necessary in alleviating.  But Riker knew well enough that the
personnel reviews were a long and arduous task, even when fought out in a
pair.  Deanna having to take them on alone was going to be taxing for her; he
had no doubt of that.

"Oh, the reviews are all right. I'm almost finished, as a matter of fact."

"Almost finished?"

"Will, why the sudden concern?  You know I'm quite capable of--"

"Yes, of course you are.  That isn't what I meant.  But ... I am concerned
about you.  I'll admit to that.  You haven't seemed yourself lately."

"And what, precisely, would 'myself' be, in your opinion, Commander?"

She was starting to bristle, and he knew that wasn't where he wanted the
conversation to lead.

"Oh, you know," he pushed her hair aside and spoke into her ear, "smiling,
happy," he'd been about to add more when he suddenly realized, "Deanna,
you've barely touched your cocoa."

She seemed to realize (belated) that he was right, because she looked into
her glass -- which was three quarters full -- and quietly exhaled.  

"I'm just not ... very hungry.  That's all."

"Did I mention there's chocolate in there?"

Setting her mug back onto the table, Deanna did something he'd never have
expected.  She curled up against him, laid her head in the crook of his arm,
and she closed her eyes.  

"Wake me in a half hour?"  Riker heard her mumble beneath her breath, and he
was too stunned to do anything but nod ... which in itself was a little
silly, considering she wouldn't have been able to see that either.

~/\~

Coda I2 (part 4) ... continued ....


It was staring down at Deanna's mass of jet-black curls that Riker finally
realized why it was he'd been drawn so inexorably to her when they first met.
 His mother had also worn her hair like this.  He remembered that now, and he
knew that if he ever told Deanna, she'd probably laugh at him and haul out
some ancient Earth tome written by Sigmund Freud.  But in truth, the simple
beauty of her hair was what enchanted him from the very first moment. He
couldn't help that, any more than he could have helped the way his mind (and
portions of his traitorous anatomy) moved on very quickly to other areas of
Deanna's incredibly attractive body, forgetting her hair in less than an
instant.

Had he really compared her to a work of art that day by the lake? Riker shut
his eyes and slowly exhaled.  Yes, he had done that.  And then she'd
approached him, eyes dark and filled with uncertainty.  And she'd said
something he'd never forget.  Words which echoed in his thoughts, and even in
his dreams for months afterward.  

She said, 'Sometimes I think that we spend so much time telling each other
that our relationship won't ... shouldn't ... be rekindled ... because when
we face the alternative, then we face the fact that we've wasted years that
we could have been together...'

And ... then like an idiot, he'd said there were too many other people to
consider now.  He'd asked her whether she loved Worf, and had taken her
answer -- yes -- as a welcome reprieve from a conversation which he knew was
heading into water so dangerous; it was even more dangerous than the silvery
droplets that clung to Deanna's body as she swam nude in the lake that day.

Why had he turned her away?    Why had he watched her while she swam there;
watched her with wide-eyes -- like a school-kid trapped in the girl's locker
room, even though he knew she was taken.  And why had she known _every_ line
... every word of that horrible poem he'd written her a lifetime ago.  She
recited it for him by heart.

"Because it's from you," he could almost hear her answer in his thoughts,
"and I'd love anything you gave me..."

Those were more words from a lifetime ago.  In this lifetime, Deanna slept,
curled up on the couch in his quarters, her head resting on his arm.  He drew
his hand slowly through her hair and he listened to her breathing -- and he
realized it had been just a little over a half an hour since she'd been this
way.  

Half an hour?  Riker's eyes drifted to the chrono on the wall and his hand
hovered over her shoulder.  But she was so quiet. And in repose, so like a
sleeping child.  He didn't have the heart to wake her.  Giving the chrono one
final glance, Riker tapped the badge on his chest instead.

"Riker to Lieutenant Mae,"

<Mae here, sir> a woman's voice came back.

"Lieutenant," he spoke quietly, though Deanna seemed so sound asleep that no
noise could possibly wake her.   "I'm afraid your group session with
Counselor Troi will be postponed for the day.  I've ... reassigned her.  
She'll be in touch with a new appointment for you as soon as she's disposed."

<Understood sir, not a problem.>

"Riker out."  He nodded to himself when the COMM went silent.  Of course,
he'd have to deal with Deanna's ire when she woke up and found he'd cancelled
her appointment, but at this very moment, he found that to be a small price
to pay.  

Looking down at her, Will brushed his lips across the top of her head and
reached behind himself for a PADD that lay on a nearby table.   He took it
into his hands and switched it on, scrolling through a list of paperwork he'd
been putting off -- but which he suddenly found he had more than enough
energy to complete.

~/\~

Coda I2 (part 5) ... continued ....


When Deanna awoke, her senses swam groggily into focus.  It was very dark,
and her head felt like someone had stuffed it with wet cotton.  She knew
those signs for evidence of exhaustion, but she forcefully began pushing them
aside in favor of a more cognizant reality.  Where was she?

A warm lump beneath her shoulder seemed to move.  And that was when she
remembered....

Will.   She'd been with him, in his quarters.  They were talking, and then...
 

Deanna blinked and used the couch as leverage to pull herself up.  She stared
into the dark room ... adjusting to the lack of light before it hit her.   
The chrono on the wall flashed three hours later than it should have.  She'd
missed her appointments for the evening.

Glancing down at Will, she was ready to wake him and demand an explanation
when she realized that it looked as though he'd fallen asleep without meaning
to.  His head lay on the top of the couch and there was a data PADD still
sitting in his open hand.

Deanna gently lifted the PADD from his grasp and glanced at it.  'An itemized
report on the level three sensor diagnostic, performed stardate xxxxx.x,
Engineering, section alpha, grid 29...'

"Ugh," her nose wrinkled and she smiled fondly at him, "that would have put
me to sleep as well."

Tapping the COMM badge on her chest, Troi spoke softly, "Troi to Mae"

<Mae here, Counselor. Are you calling to reschedule?  Commander Riker said
you'd been reassigned...>

"Did he?"  Deanna suppressed the surprise in her voice.

<Yes, said you'd want to reschedule.  We're free whenever you are. >

"Oh," she presented Riker's sleeping form with a look of silent reproach,
"well, I'm afraid I can't do that from here, but why don't you call my office
and book a new appointment.  I apologize--"

<Oh, no need,> Mae's cheerful voice responded, <we've all be reassigned at
the last minute.  That's how it goes in the fleet...>

"Yes," again Deanna nearly frowned, her eyes on Will, "make it soon then?  
We'll have this sorted out in no time."

<Thank you Counselor.  I'll do that.  Mae out.>

Deanna heard the COMM go dead and she sat forward on the couch.  Riker hadn't
moved.  He was sleeping like the dead, and she wondered for a moment, which
one of them had truly been more tired.

The touch of him she felt in her mind seemed to pulse, and she knew that he
was waking up.  Setting herself on the edge of the couch, her legs tucked up
beneath her, Deanna waited patiently for his eyes to open.  And very soon
they did.

Riker looked up, around the dark enclosure, and then his gaze dropped and his
eyes settled directly on hers.

Deanna had been about to say something when Will sat up.  She knew that she
had, except that all of a sudden she was face to face with him, and every
thought that she'd been having ... about Mae, the 'half-hour' she was
supposed to have been here ... all of it vanished.

She looked at him, and he looked at her.  And then ... as though her body
were acting entirely of its own volition, Deanna shifted forward.  She leaned
lightly against him, and she drew her lips into intimate contact with his.

~/tbc\~

Coda I2 (part 6) ... continued ....


When Riker awoke, his cabin was dark.  The first thing he saw, was Deanna.  
She was sitting directly opposite him, and she was looking at him in a way he
was hardly able to recognize.

He wanted to say something.  He was certain that he did.  Only it seemed so
clear to him that she already knew what he was thinking.  That was odd,
wasn't it?  Or maybe it was the link ... the one Lwaxana put into his head.  
He felt Deanna everywhere ... now as ever.  But suddenly he could feel the
warmth of her presence in close proximity as well, and that was much, much
better.  It was...

The moment that she kissed him.

He hadn't been expecting it.  Although very little else about her silence had
surprised him.  It was almost as though they were living in a waking dream.  
For an instant, he didn't need to talk.  And nothing was complicated.  There
was just the two of them. Here.  Now.  No time.  No boundaries.

Riker felt Deanna's mouth close tentatively on his.  Her body laid in
increments along the side of his, and the brush of her lips was getting
bolder -- quite probably because he was kissing her back.

She tasted like chocolate.  Warm and soft when his hands cupped the edges of
her face.  And, God, he needed her like this ... so much it might have cost
him his soul.  But there was something in the back of his consciousness;
something that screamed this wasn't right.

Deanna was kissing him so slowly and so gently that he might have sworn he'd
never been kissed before.  But they hadn't said a word.  They hadn't spoken
of the accident or the kidnapping, the Romulans, the Cardassians, Tom ... or
Worf.  And damn his consciousness for waking up at a time like this!

Riker groaned, inwardly and outwardly.  Because he didn't _want_ to be
logical about this.  What he wanted was to taste her, and to hold her, and to
make love to her this way for however long they had ...  they could deal with
the consequences later.

Much later....

He pulled her farther on top of him, staring into the darkest pair of eyes
he'd ever known.  Riker's gaze drifted down toward her lips, damp and full
from the pull of their intimate kiss.  Without a moment's hesitation, he
reached for her and kissed her again.  He heard her whisper ... something he
couldn't make out.  But it didn't matter what it was.  Because a moment later
she was begging him to touch her.  Her voice was in his thoughts and his mind
and his soul.

Riker's body suddenly froze.  Deanna didn't beg.  Not this way, at least.  
Not the way that she was pleading with him now to love her.   

The subconscious voice he'd almost successfully banished was back.  It
whispered to him that he was being selfish and desperate, and that they
should...

"Wait..." Riker forced his eyes to focus ... on anything but her.  He placed
his hands between them and felt her protest.  "Deanna.... wait.  We can't."   

He breathed an inaudible sigh of relief when she did as he asked and
disengaged -- because he wasn't certain he could have asked her again.

Deanna sat backward, eyes large and confused as he began to explain.

"We need to figure this out.  We can't just jump into--"  Riker trailed off
at a loss, watching her stand and turn her back on him.  She crossed her arms
protectively over her midriff and faced the door.  There she froze like a
statue, standing in the semi-darkness, without a word.  "Deanna, there's a
lot we need to say..."

"Yes, there always is," he heard her quiet reply.  But when he stood and
moved behind her, touching her arm, Deanna flinched and moved forward.  "Talk
and time.  Forever and ever.  Isn't that what we hold before us?"

"You know how hard it was to stop -- just now?" Riker asked her almost as
quietly, but she smiled sardonically.

"You hold that as a triumph?"

Walking slowly toward the door, Deanna tapped the plate and was suddenly
bathed in a warm glow from the corridor.  She paused mid-step in the entry
and turned to face him.  

Riker expected her to be angry.  He'd half expected she would find something
new to throw at him.  And Deanna's expression was, in fact, resolute.  But
there was a glowing moisture in her eyes which even she could not contain.  
And the look she gave him broke his heart.

Deanna regarded him for only a moment, and then she nodded, as though
whatever she'd found made sense.  Riker found ... he couldn't say a word.

"Goodnight, Will," she spoke for both of them.  And she turned in the
corridor.  And then she was gone.

~/tbc\~

Coda I2 (part 7) ... continued ....


Far from the expected outcome of their brief encounter in his quarters,
Deanna seemed unusually cheerful the next time Riker saw her.  They'd shared
the bridge for an on-duty shift in the morning, during which she had been
entirely polite and even smiled at him a few times.  Of course they hadn't
spoken of the night before -- it wouldn't have been appropriate -- but it
seemed as though, for Deanna, there wasn't a night before at all.  

When their shift had ended, she had left for lunch with a positive buoyancy
in her step, and as far as Riker was concerned, it simply didn't add up.  
Which was why he followed her to Ten Forward, and watched her choose a table
on her own.  

Standing at the entrance to the bar, Will finally opted to enter.  He
approached Deanna's table with some trepidation, but she looked up at him
when he arrived and she was smiling.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked.

"Actually," Deanna shrugged apologetically, "if you don't mind a great deal,
I was hoping to eat alone this afternoon."

Riker's eyebrow rose a notch.  Deanna had sometimes preferred to be alone
with her thoughts in the past.  Now that he recalled, she'd done so more than
once.  He just couldn't recall any instance where she'd told him so quite as
-- overtly.

Managing a small smile in return, he nodded, "of course.  I'm sorry."

"I'll see you later?"  Deanna chimed in, "for the meeting?"

"Oh, yes.  Sure... the observation lounge.  1700.  See you then."  There was
to be a senior staff meeting at 1700 hours.  Deanna would certainly know
that, but the nod she offered him in response was a clear dismissal.

Riker turned on his heel and walked slowly toward the bar.  His thoughts were
swimming, and he wasn't sure why he simply hadn't confronted her about the
entire issue and gotten it over with.  He would have bet his last credit chit
that she remembered.  It was only that ... something in her manner deferred
him.

She was being evasive.  And Deanna was rarely evasive.  Not that he presumed
there was anything horribly wrong with her.  Thanks to Lwaxana Troi, he now
had the surest and steadiest indicator for authenticating Deanna Troi's
presence that probably existed.

The question was, why was she acting this way?  And why -- it hit him as
suddenly as a shuttlecraft -- was she blocking him from her mind and her
feelings?  She hadn't done that in over twelve years.

"Deanna--"  Turning back around, Riker spun toward her table, only to realize
that it was now vacant.  Deanna's retreating form disappeared through the
doorway to Ten-Forward no more than an instant afterward.

If she'd wanted to be alone, Will's thoughts took a dismal turn, she was
certainly acting on that desire.


.o.


Less than an hour later, Riker was pacing his quarters.  He'd run into Geordi
LaForge on his way through the corridor, and the moment it happened, LaForge
offered him a sympathetic smile and a shake of his head.

'Commander,' he'd said, 'are you _still_ here?'

Riker was reasonably positive that Geordi wasn't referring to his coordinates
on a star-chart, either.  He was referring to a conversation they'd had --
nearly a year ago -- in Ten-Forward, when Will had managed to convince
himself to stand up, walk over to Deanna Troi's table and tell her exactly
how he felt about her.

The problem was that she was with Worf at the time.  They were a couple, and
just as Riker rose from his seat, steeling himself with the rest of the
synthol in his grasp, Worf had also arisen.  Jumped to his feet, more aptly,
declaring that he ... and Deanna ... were engaged.  

Engaged...

Even in retrospect, that moment still managed to qualify as the single worst
instant of Will Riker's life.

"Deanna..." he whispered under his breath, shaking his head and raking one
hand backward through the a wayward lock of hair. "Talk to me..."

But there was no answer of course, because he was alone in his cabin. And in
that moment, Riker despised the word 'talk' as much or more than Deanna
seemed to.  Because even if he'd been wrong about so many other things in his
life -- and in his relationship with her -- he knew he was right about this.

Glancing up at the doorway and taking a deep breath, Riker promptly exhaled
and marched with purpose into the corridor.  Deanna's quarters were next in
the hallway.  He wasn't even certain she was in there, except that his sense
of her was screaming at him that she was.

He stood outside the doorway for a moment, ready to punch in the code -- but
then he dropped his hand and hit the chime instead.

"Come in!" called a voice from within.  It seemed distant, as though she were
in another room, but it hadn't hesitated.  So unless she didn't realize it
was him...

Riker stepped through the open entry and glanced around the enclosure.  It
was as immaculate as ever, but Deanna was nowhere to be seen.

A moment later, she emerged from her bedroom, dressed in a fresh uniform and
toweling off a portion of her damp hair.  He'd forgotten she had appointments
later this afternoon.

When she rounded the corner, Deanna stared at him.  The look on her face was
plainly one of surprise at his presence, and it was likely one of only a
handful of times she'd responded this way.  

Her empathy was uncannily accurate about these sorts of things, greater still
where he was concerned, and she would have to have been very distracted, not
to have sensed him coming.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, uttering the first real breath of
annoyance that Riker had heard from her since their argument the night
before.  She was not happy to see him.  And in a strange way ... that was
good.

Without so much as granting the opportunity for explanation, Deanna marched
forward and pushed him backward toward her door.  "Will, I asked to be alone
this afternoon.  Why can't you--"

"Deanna," Riker argued as he came face to face with her cabin exit, "I want
to talk to you," she kept moving him forward, but he demurred, "...about the
D," and then she stopped moving all together.

"Why?"

Given the opportunity to turn, Riker leaned back against the doorway and
wasn't surprised to feel it open behind him, nearly staggering his balance.  
Since he had --technically -- been an invited guest, the door was simply
allowing him an automatic exit.

"Well, because," Riker saw a familiar shade of conviction cloud Deanna's
eyes.  He knew he had only seconds left before the door would close in front
of him.  "Because... I handed you the helm of my ship, and you crashed it.  
That's why."

"What?" Troi's gasp of surprise was nothing compared to the look on her face.
 Her eyes narrowed, "if this is a variation on those 'nice landing' jokes, it
isn't funny."

"It's not a joke Deanna," Riker kept his voice level and his eyes on hers,
"don't you care that you crashed the flag ship of the Federation?"

"Of course I care!" she snapped, "but the investigation into those events
ended well over a year ago, you and I were both there.  It was unavoidable
and it's over."

The door to Deanna's quarters suddenly closed. But it closed behind Riker.

"See there's where you're wrong.  It's not over, Deanna.  Not by a long shot."

She stared at him for a moment, and when Riker was reasonably certain that
even she recognized he wasn't talking about the ship anymore, her expression
grew dark.

"You need to leave, Will."

"Deanna--"

"Now!" she snapped at him.

With a careful exhale which belied the torrent of emotion he was feeling,
Riker stood his ground.  "I'm not leaving now."

Deanna glowered at him.  Hands on her hips, she scowled.  "Now or later.  You
will leave.  You always do."  

A weighted pause arose, Riker felt it more keenly than if she'd slapped him
across the face.  But he made certain he didn't move so much as an inch, and
Deanna finally shrugged.  "Suit yourself.  You can stand there all afternoon
if you'd like.  I have appointments."

With that, she turned and walked to her bedroom, where she dropped the towel
into a recycler and began putting her hair up for the afternoon.

~/\~

Coda I2 (part 8) ... continued ....


Setting her hairbrush down, Deanna Troi glanced into the mirror and
quickly surveyed her work. She'd pinned her hair up half-way and was
more concerned with keeping it out of her face than she was with
lifting it above her shoulders.

Finally satisfied, she turned from her vanity and left the bedroom,
only moderately surprised to see Will Riker still standing near the
door.

She looked him over once. Anyone else might have appeared either
awkward or out of place, standing in a person's doorway uninvited for
so long. But not Will. He seemed as relaxed as he was casual about
the entire matter, and Deanna found quite suddenly that she was less
angry with him than she was amused -- for the moment.

He was being doggedly stubborn. But Will was always stubborn, and
she should have known better than to demand he move anywhere if she
hadn't wanted him to dig in his heels and stay.

Sighing loudly, Deanna managed to shake her head when she passed him
on her way out the door.

"You're like a small child, do you know that?" the comment was
thrown over her shoulder, but she saw him flash one of his signature
smiles when she spoke -- and realized only too late that she'd fallen
into his trap. Having her respond to him at all was precisely what
he'd been after.

"You know that I'm right about this," Riker jogged up and fell into
step with her, rounding the corner of the corridor.

"I know that you're out of my quarters," Deanna smiled back in
return. "Are you going to follow me all the way to my office?"

"I might," he threw her a look of challenge.

"Will," she sighed in exasperation, "you're being petulant."

"Because you're being unreasonable."

"I am _not_ being--" Deanna suddenly trailed off, eyes
narrow. "You're not going to goad me into another argument."

"That isn't my intent," he argued, and when she kept walking, Riker
placed his hand across her path, laying it on the wall and
effectively blocking her progress. "Will you hear me out for five
seconds?"

Deanna stared at him in silence. "Four..." she finally
spoke, "three..."

"Now who's being petulant?"

"Get out of my way," thrusting her hand against his arm, she
dislodged it from the wall and began walking once more.

"I hold you close to me," Riker called after her, his voice echoing
in the corridor so that several officers paused to listen.

He was recalling the first line of a poem he'd once written her. One
she'd already proven to him she remembered by heart. Deanna froze
and turned where she stood.

"Feel the breath of you, and the wonder of you..." he continued,
unabashed.

What Deanna could feel was the color that had stolen into her
cheeks.

Glaring at each of the spectators, she sent them all hurriedly on
their way, before turning her ire on Riker -- who for his part -- was
still saying...

"And remember a time, without you"

Riker paused his recitation and looked back at her with nothing short
of a storm in his eyes.

"What's the matter, Counselor, is there nothing around here to throw
at me this time?"

"Don't bet on it." Deanna's gaze fell on a nearby wall-panel and she
scowled at him.

Will seemed almost to smile. But they were clearly alone now. And
though Troi fervently wished for someone to emerge from the turbo-
lift or the corridor, it looked as though there would be no immediate
respite.

"But only as one would remember, a bleak and distant nightmare,"
Riker kept right on speaking, advancing slowly toward her.

Deanna found her feet rooted firmly in the floor. Her mind had
wanted to turn. To walk away from him and leave him standing there
unheeded. But she could neither move, nor flee. She could barely
breathe.

Her face was still burning as he moved closer. There was a new
reason for that now, and it was all the Counselor could do to stand
very straight and return his look dead on when his footsteps carried
him within an inch of her body.

"And you shudder against me in your sleep," Will spoke more quietly
once he was face to face with her.

It must have been as shocking for Will as it was for Deanna, when she
opened her mouth and murmured the next line, "Do you share the memory
with me of dark times past?"

For an instant, Riker seemed utterly startled. His eyes widened and
he looked about to speak, until the slow semblance of a smile touched
the corners of his lips. He moved closer still.

"And you smile," he lifted one hand and traced the edge of her face
as though she were a butterfly.

"Do you share the memory of times to come?" Deanna answered quietly,
still caught in the moment as though she were walking through a dream.

"The future holds such promise," he reached forward, taking both of
her hands in his, "And just as I cannot imagine how I survived the
past,without you..."

"I cannot--" Deanna felt the hot sting of ready-teardrops form in
her eyes. "I--"

It was through the heat of this battle that she struggled with the
final words of the stanza. The closure of a poem she had read in her
room on Betazed; a hundred thousand times, once he had gone.

Drawing both arms protectively across her midriff, she finally
whispered, "I cannot imagine a future ... without you."

And then she stood there, moments away from him; helpless when her
body began to shake and she was crying in earnest. There were no
more words to say.

Will came for her and wrapped strong arms around her; drew them
safely into the confines of a warm and fierce embrace. And only when
the focus of her mind lost irrevocably to the focus of her heart, did
Deanna cease her struggle.

Letting go of it all, she fell against the broad expanse of Will
Riker's chest, and there she wept as though she were broken in two.

~/\~
Coda I2 (part 9) ... continued ....


"Shh," Riker drew his chin atop Deanna's head.  He held her close and rocked
with her, back and forth.  

The corridor remained mercifully deserted, save for the movement of their
bodies, and he whispered through her hair until the sound of her crying began
to ebb.

Saying 'don't cry, Deanna' seemed almost trite to him now.  Because he was
grateful that she could, in a way.  He almost wished that he could do the
same.  

There was so much emotion left unopened between them.  So many things they'd
felt and never said.  This was only the beginning. But at least it was real;
surely a first step toward healing, however long that might take.

When several minutes had passed, Deanna shifted in his arms.  She pulled away
from him, carefully extricating herself and running her hands along her arms
as though to re-warm herself once she was free.

Riker didn't stop her, but he watched her move, and he smiled wanly when she
exhaled a short breath.  

"I'm sorry."  Her large, dark eyes looked up at him and seemed to peer inside
his soul.

He didn't bother telling her not to be.  Or saying it didn't matter.  Because
he knew that it did.  Riker felt himself nod, and then his shoulders rose and
fell.  "Me too," he whispered.  

"I must look a fright,"  Deanna muttered ruefully, blinking back the moisture
in her eyes; she swiped at it with her fingertips.

"You look lovely,"  Riker winked, placing his hands on either side of her
face and using his thumbs to gently brush at her teardrops.  Deanna half
laughed.  He knew it had been a predictable thing to say, but he said it
anyway, because he also knew it was what she needed to hear.

"Well done, Mr. Riker," Deanna had composed herself and now stood apart from
him, both hands at her sides.  "That's twice in two days I've cried over you."

"And hopefully not again, for a very long time." He dropped his gaze.

A pair of officers engaged in an animated discussion suddenly rounded the
corner of the corridor and both Riker and Troi moved quickly to one side.

Deanna stared after them for a time, though they seemed blissfully ignorant
of the scene they had so narrowly missed.   When she looked back to Riker,
Troi cleared her throat.

"I'd better--"

"You have appointments," he recalled, smiling when she nodded in grateful
acknowledgement.

"I'll see you later?" Troi asked, tipping her head as though there was more
to her sentence she hadn't spoken aloud.

"Yeah.  1700 ... I'll see you there."

Deanna's brow furrowed and she seemed about to reply, but obviously thought
better of it.  Smiling demurely, she turned and resumed her course through
the corridor at a thoughtful pace.

Riker watched her go.  He regarded her back until she suddenly stopped and
turned around again.  Retracing her steps, Deanna walked slowly and
deliberately toward him until they were face to face.  He opened his mouth to
ask her what she was...

But then she drew her arms around his neck, laid her lips on top of his and
kissed him passionately.  

Riker's whole universe shimmered wonderfully out of focus.  Tightening her
hold on him, Deanna deepened the intimate encounter until he felt nothing but
the heat of her.  It pulsed through every nerve ending in his body; every
incredible place she touched him.

The kiss was long and sweet, but far too quickly it was over.   Deanna broke
away from him, stepping backward into the corridor where she looked him over
a final time.  

Finding no words in his throat, Riker slowly exhaled.  He knew he could have
lived forever in the light of her eyes just then.

"Bye," Deanna smiled again.  This time, she managed to make it all the way
through the corridor, and she entered the turbo-lift at its end.

Riker stood there for a long time after she'd gone.  He was staring at the
hallway with his mouth half-open and the warm reminder of her lips still
tingling on his.

"Oh ... my ... god," he finally whispered, leaning heavily against a nearby
bulkhead.  His head fell backward with a satisfying thump.

~/tbc\~

Coda I2 (part 10 - conclusion)


"I want to congratulate you," Captain Jean-Luc Picard was
saying, "all of you, on a fine first year aboard the Enterprise-E.
It's been nearly twelve months, since we took her on her first
flight. She was barely prepared, barely out of testing when we
challenged her to space and a crew of over a thousand. It is due --
largely to your efforts --" Picard's eyes surveyed each of his senior
staff in turn, "that we have made this past year a successful
journey."

Eyes around the table all nodded and smiled. There was merit to what
their captain was saying, and no one was happier about the new ship's
successes than Will Riker was. In truth, he still felt a little
guilty about the crash of the 'D', even though it was no more his
fault than it had been Deanna's or anyone else's on the bridge that
day. The crash had been imminent; there was nothing to stop it, and
that, as they said ... was surely that. Still, it twisted a knot in
Riker's chest whenever he thought about those moments.

Or Deanna... when they'd been racing toward the planet's surface at
terminal velocity.

Far from being chastised, Deanna had been congratulated by Fleet
Command for the way she kept the Enterprise's proverbial 'nose up'
until the very end. Whether she would admit it or not, she'd been
handed the helm of a ship that was already crashing. But she had
helped to make sure that no one was killed in that crash.

Riker had been so proud of her that day, and so terrified at the same
time. He remembered the conflict in his thoughts, and the guilt he
felt at feeling it. They braced for impact, the ship hit the ground
and it seemed like a million years until they finally stopped moving
after that. When they did, it was all Will could do to stagger out
of his chair, help a nearby lieutenant to his feet, and grab Deanna
as she stood on her own and turned around -- half in a daze.

Then came what happened afterward. He hadn't remembered before, but
the memory was suddenly clear and Riker could see himself crushing
Deanna in his arms.

Out of the smoke and the crackle of numerous electrical fires, the
view port kept flickering. On and off, bright and then dark. That
was when they'd seen the Genesis Wave coming; gliding toward them
with a brilliance that belied its horrible purpose. It was the
moment they knew they were all going to die.

Holding Deanna in his arms, Will's eyes had traveled to the turbolift
for barely an instant. Lt. Commander Worf was there, and Worf and
Deanna were a couple at the time. But Worf was preoccupied with an
emergency console and might not have turned to see the energy field
in the view screen.

Looking down on Troi, Riker had seen an understanding in her eyes.
In the seconds that followed, he remembered covering her mouth
fervently with his; closing his eyes and kissing her with all the
passion he'd ever felt for her in his soul. He remembered her
kissing him back...

And then there was nothing.
Nothing at all.
Until it was happening all over again...

Riker slid out of the memory with a suddenness that nearly made him
shift backward in his chair. His head snapped upright and he
realized that Picard was still speaking...

"So if there's nothing more, then I will disseminate your final
assignments for this week and we can all go on about our duties...
Counselor," the older man turned to Troi, "I assume you will be
completing the personnel reviews by the end of the day tomorrow?"

"Yes sir," Deanna nodded as though the enormity of the task set
before her wasn't wholly overwhelming.

"Very good." Picard's gaze shifted, "Doctor, I'll need the medical
supply list by the end of the--"

"Captain," Riker cut in deferentially, "Just before we move on, since
Geordi and I have also completed those schematics you requested, I'll
have some free time. I can help Deanna finish up the personnel
reviews per our regular routine." Riker met his Captain's
expression.

Will hadn't mentioned that he wanted to help Deanna because it was
hardly possible for one person to complete the monolithic process all
alone. He hadn't wanted to contradict her earlier affirmative, but
he'd managed to make his point, because the Captain pursed his lips.

"Yes, of course Number One."

Picard's nod became Riker's final authorization. Glancing up at
Deanna, he noticed she was looking at him, but her expression was as
neutral as one of his own notorious poker faces. If she'd reacted at
all to his interjection, she certainly wasn't letting on in present
company.

In the minutes that followed, the remainder of the meeting tied up
several further loose ends, and then Picard dismissed his staff. They
were heading for the doorway when Riker caught up with Troi.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" he asked her as they walked from the
lounge.

"Mad?" asked Deanna, "why would I be mad?"

"Well ... I know how stubborn you get about these kinds of--"

"Independent," Deanna cut him off.

"What?"

"I'm not stubborn about these things, Will, I'm independent about
them. There's a difference," she offered him an unidentifiable
look. They'd stepped into the turbolift and had presently reached
deck six -- the level of the Enterprise's library. Deanna stepped
out in front of him and began walking through the corridor. In the
short period of silence which ensued, it was she who finally sighed.

"All right," Troi turned her head, affording him a sidelong
glance, "I was being stubborn," she admitted, "but only because I
know you've done these things before by yourself. Many officers
have. I don't understand why it's been taking me so long to--"

"Is that what this was about?" Riker grinned down at her. "Deanna,
I'll admit to having done a few personnel reviews on my own in the
past, and you're right, a lot of officers do them all the time, but
not for the flag ship! Not for the Enterprise. There are over seven
hundred officers on board this ship ... that's an enormous amount of
crew ... and I hate to break it to you Counselor, but half of you is
only human," he winked.

"And the other half?" she inquired innocently.

"Superior in every respect," Riker laughed. But Deanna's hand
suddenly settled on his arm and they stopped at the door to the
library. She turned him where he stood.

"Do I really act that way?"

The question had taken him off guard. Riker stared at her for a
moment, and then he half-shrugged, "Nah, I was-- that's not what I
meant when I--"

"I do, don't I?" Her gaze fell and she examined the floor as the
doorway to the library slid open.

Stepping within, Riker let the door go shut again before he spoke.

"Deanna, you know that I--"

"All of my adult life," Deanna was speaking as though Riker wasn't
even in the room, "I've challenged my mother's way of doing things.
Her sense of authority and superiority. The way she's so ... so ..."
her eyes looked up and into Riker's, "... aristocratic about
Betazed. And I'm the same way, really. Aren't I?" She didn't wait
for a response, "I mean, perhaps not as overtly as she is, but
underneath it all, I was taught to feel as though--"

"Deanna," Riker laid his hand on her shoulder, but what he was
initially going to say flew out of his head in the moment that his
eyes found hers. She was looking at him in a way that seemed to
suggest whatever he said to her now might change her universe. Riker
sighed. "You are caring, and thoughtful, giving to a fault..." he
reached for her and touched her face with the edge of his
hand. "When I fell in love with you, I fell in love with your pride
and your people and your ... independence, all at once."

She looked as though she were going to cry, but Riker took her face
between his palms before she could, and he smiled, "We've all made
mistakes in our lives, haven't we?" When she didn't respond, he
tried again, "haven't we, Deanna?"

Deanna nodded silently. She hadn't cried, but she was still looking
at him with the largest pair of eyes he'd ever seen.

"I made a mistake," Riker's thumb brushed absently across her cheek.
He'd never felt more for her than he did in the instant that her
hands curled up to rest on each of his arms. "After the crash of
the 'D', when I saw you by that waterfall and you told me you were
feeling confused... I should have told you that I was too. That I
wanted you, and I didn't know how to tell you, or whether I should."

Deanna turned her face toward one of his hands. "I should have said
the same to you," her grip tightened on his arm.

Riker slowly shook his head. "You had another future ahead of you."

"Worf," Deanna acknowledged sadly, "But that was my mistake, Will,"
she looked up at him as though she knew he'd be surprised at the
remark. "I did love him, I do ... in a way, I always will. But when
he asked me to marry him that evening on the Farragut, I'd actually
been sitting there for some time beforehand, and ... I was thinking
about you." She looked away again, "I was wondering about our
conversation, and the things we hadn't said."

It was Riker's turn to glance at the floor this time, when Deanna
suddenly pinned him with a sharp look.

"I was angry with you," she said, "I think I was confused ... and
Worf was there the entire time. When he asked me, I was shocked. I
just-- I remember thinking how noble he was being and how much I
cared for him for being just that way. He'd been supportive of me
and strong, and I was being horrible to him, sitting there thinking
that I couldn't marry him because he wasn't ... Imzadi," Deanna
paused, and Riker stepped away from her, allowing the space she
needed to speak, "I couldn't believe I'd made that analogy," Deanna
went on, "I panicked. I was in the middle of a marriage proposal and
I was thinking of _you_ and so, I... I looked up at Worf, and I said
yes." She trailed off into an uncomfortable silence, before
adding, "Gods that makes it seem so unfair to him. So awful, but it
really wasn't like that. I did love him..."

Riker stared at her for a long time without speaking. He felt as
though all the energy -- both positive and negative -- in his body
had suddenly deflated and left him feeling oddly, unbalanced.

Falling without ceremony into a nearby chair, he watched as Deanna
did the same with only slightly more decorum.

"You know, I was on my feet before Worf stood up," Will finally
whispered, "I'd decided ... that I was going to come over there, and
I was going to ask to speak with you. Alone. I wanted to tell you
everything ... but the next thing I knew, the whole room was
applauding, and I'd never felt so much like dying in my whole life,"
he shook his head ruefully, "So I stood there like an idiot for a
while, and then I lifted my glass in the air..."

"Oh," Deanna placed her head in her hands and made a quiet sound.

"You must have been hurt, when Worf went back to Qo'nos," Riker spoke
before she could. He glanced up at her and saw her lift her head in
order to regard him fully.

"I was hurt," she admitted, "at first. And then I felt guilty."

"Guilty?"

Deanna half-smiled.

"Let me guess," said Riker, "you were teaching him the difference
between the mind and the bat'leth..."

She nodded, "and he ended up being the wiser between us, I think.
The wiser, perhaps of all three of us ... considering."

"Deanna, he saved me from that Cardassian prison, and he took it on
faith when I gave him nothing more than a... a feeling I had... to
chase after in space. I owe him--"

"You're even," Troi cut him off softly, looking down at her
hands. "You don't give yourself enough credit."

"I don't know," Riker slowly exhaled, "I know that I'll always be
grateful to him."

"And I'll always be grateful to you," Deanna glanced up
suddenly, "you saved my life on that moon."

"You are my life," Riker slid from his chair and knelt at the foot of
hers. "Deanna, if you can forgive me ... someday, for all the times
I've acted like an idiot, and all the times I just ... I didn't know
what to say ... I know I've done some things that, that might not
even be forgivable. I've hurt you. And I don't deserve you. But
God help me, I want to be with you. I want that more than anything.
Someday..."

Deanna's eyes shone with a natural light when she slid from her chair
so that she faced him on the rug. Riker lifted his hand to her face
and she curled her fingers over his.

"Someday..." she nodded through her teardrops, and he was about to
draw her closer when she spoke again, "But what if I can forgive
you ... today?"

Riker stared at her in awe. For a brilliant, timeless instant, he
knew that whatever he said in this next moment might alter his
universe. And he was damned if he was going to screw it up another
time.

Swallowing the hammering of his heartbeat, he recalled the
conversation he'd had with Deanna in the Troi mansion nearly twelve
months ago. When he had told her they couldn't be together, because
she needed time to recover from what she'd been through. But this
time, there would be no such boundaries. This time, Riker knew
exactly what to say. He knew exactly what to do.

Pulling her forward into his arms, he whispered, "Today?" and like
the answer to a prayer he'd kept sacred for his entire life, Deanna
nodded back at him.

"Then I would hold you..." Riker brushed at her teardrops, "and kiss
you," his lips descended tenderly on hers. It was the lightest
whisper of contact, yet Deanna seemed equally fascinated with
exploring such an intimate caress. They held that way until Riker
pulled gently from her and spoke again. "And I would tell you ...
that I have loved you forever. I never stopped. I don't even
remember if there was ever a time before I started..."

Deanna cut him off when she threw her arms around him, and she buried
her face against the edge of his neck. "That's all you needed to
say," she sobbed, "that's all you ever needed to say..."

"I've missed you so much," Riker's words were a reverence against the
edge of her hair, and his arms closed around her.

He kissed her again. And it was ... as it had always been between
them. The confusion and complexity of their universe began to ripple
softly, before it melted and fell gently away. That was the dream
he'd had. Several thousand times before. But always at the end of
it, a wakeful sense of truth would intercede.

Always... until today.

Because when William Riker opened his eyes and looked down at the
warmth and the light in Deanna Troi's expression, he knew once and
for always that there would be no sorrowful awakening. No wakeful
sense of truth beyond the admissions he had already shared with her.
When he looked at Deanna and he saw her looking back at him -- Riker
knew that he had finally made it home.

~[the end]~

...with respect for the novel, and ever rule I've broken in expanding
upon it...