Notes: Another senseless 'moment in time'. Now
there's a surprise. This little scene was something I'd thought might be
fun to put on paper for a little while now. It's not quite as long as it
might have been, but I let the characters end it themselves. So I'll blame
them if it's not what every reader feels it should be. Cheers and enjoy**
"Dreamers"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Kiss me..." her voice spilled, sweet as honey along the side of his
face.
"Deanna--" Riker held back, warring with his insubordinate desire.
"Will," she sighed, leaning closer; brushing her mouth intimately
across his, "don't stop."
Don't stop? His mind screamed all the rational reasons they'd been waiting. His
logic fulfilled every surgical request for evidence that this was at best
immoral, at worst: wholly inappropriate behaviour for the XO of a Starship and
its Counselor... until Deanna's velvet whisper shattered every vestige of his
remaining resolve.
"Please, Will, I need you--"
Their mouths met; desperate and deep. Riker groaned and wrapped his arms around
the entirety of her slight body. She fell against his chest and he inhaled the
faintly floral scent of her hair. Lilacs... Deanna loved lilacs... and he
loved...
<Picard to Riker>
What?
<Commander Riker, respond please...>
Still in uniform, Riker sat up in bed with a start. Deftly tossing the covers
aside, he tapped his COMM badge. "Riker here..."
What day was it? What time? Was he late for a shift?
<Sorry to disturb you Commander, I realize you're no longer on duty for the
evening...>
"It's no problem sir. I was just--" he glanced at the chronometer
which read roughly 2100 hours, "--just getting ready to call it an
early night. Little trouble sleeping, that's all."
'Liar', his own consciousness threw back. 'You were having that dream
again. The same dream you've had every night for over a week...'
<Understood. I won't take up much of your time then. Mr. LaForge has just
informed me that he relayed a series of engineering diagnostic files to your
station. You were going to forward those to my terminal with your comments, were
you not? I haven't received them as yet.>
Groaning softly, Riker pulled a hand back through his hair. "I apologize
sir. I'd forgotten you needed the report for this shift."
<No apology required,> Picard's congenial voice came back, <if you
would just forward the files, I'll leave you to your evening.>
"Yes sir. I'll have them out in two minutes."
<Very good. Picard out.>
The COMM went dead and Riker stared at the wall. "Computer," he said
flatly, "catalogue files e-108 through e-119. Transfer to terminal
alpha-five, Captain's ready-room."
With a mournful bleep, the computer responded, <transfer complete> and
Riker sighed. Falling back on the soft surface beneath him, he dropped one foot
off the side of the bed and turned his eyes to the ceiling.
An hour ago, it had seemed easy enough to consider turning in early. Especially
since he hadn't slept a great deal in well over a week. But now that he'd been
jostled awake; left alone with his thoughts--and with the vivid images of a very
familiar scenario still brilliant in his consciousness--it was suddenly
impossible to recapture the precious restive state he'd so been looking forward
to.
The problem was, he wasn't tired anymore. Despite it all, a sense of fatigue was
the last thing on his troubled mind. In truth, he felt a lot of powerful things.
Most of them at once. But tired... tired wasn't one of them.
There was frustration. Disappointment. Anger. Irritation with himself for
feeling anything at all. And there was...passion. The kind of desperate ache
that he'd been more than adept at confining to the 'unreality' of his dreams for
many years; that he'd sworn he'd never give in to feeling again. Until recently.
Tonight, it felt more real than ever.
Drawing a bothered breath, Riker sat up again. More slowly this time. He glanced
back at the chronometer near his bed, then up at the door. And then he was on
his feet. Without a backward glance, he strode into the Enterprise corridor,
heading quickly down the hall.
*
"Counselor, are you all right?"
Deanna sat back in her chair and pushed away the momentary flicker of emotion
she'd felt invade her senses. "I'm fine," she smiled.
It was the end of her final appointment for the evening, and there seemed little
point in upsetting her patient with knowledge her disconcerted thoughts.
"Linda," she opted to divert the subject instead, "why don't we
speak again in two days. Let's see how you're feeling then and if you've come to
any new conclusions. You can set up the appointment for any time you'd like
before noon. Does that sound all right?"
"Yes," the woman in Deanna's office smiled back, "thank you
Counselor. I think talking to you has been helping a great deal."
"You're most welcome," Deanna nodded. But as both of them rose from
their chairs, Deanna felt another flash of... something... dance across her
psyche. Frowning in concentration, she pushed the thought aside again, guiding
her patient to the door. "I'll see you on Saturday, Linda."
"Sure thing." Linda turned and left, walking cheerily down the hall.
When she was gone, Deanna placed her arms across her chest. "Will?"
she whispered aloud. But there was no response. Of course, there wouldn't be.
Still, it was only an instant before she too marched quickly through the doorway
to her office, following in Linda's footsteps to the turbolift at the end of the
hall.
*
Ten Forward was unusually quiet when Deanna arrived. Winding her way through the
maze of empty tables, she ignored the scattered sound of distant conversation
and focused solely on her quarry. He wasn't difficult to find. Even if she
hadn't been so attuned to his particular presence. Even if she hadn't realized
that it would always be this way, in some fashion or manner, regardless of their
stations or partners in life.
Sitting, half propped at the very back of the lounge, Riker was staring into his
drink. Eyes unfocussed, he shifted his glass back and forth along the smooth
surface of the bar, forming a moist trail of unexploited condensation.
When she arrived, he didn't bother looking up. But his body language shifted
visibly toward the tenser side of normal.
"Hello, Will," Deanna took the barstool next to his, but he didn't
answer her salutation. So she tried again, despondently. "Have things gone
so horribly wrong between us that we can't even greet one another as friends
anymore?"
Exhaling gruffly, Riker managed a sardonic shrug. "How the hell should I
know? You're the expert on feelings."
Startled by both the vehemence and the sincerity of his retort, Deanna glanced
away. "Apparently not."
For the flicker of an instant, she could feel his cool eyes turn on her. But
she'd barely taken a breath before he shook his head and sighed. "Deanna,
I'm tired. To be honest, I don't even know what I'm doing here. But I'm not in
the mood to 'talk', and I'm not in the mood to give a damn what it is you think
I'm supposed to be feeling, either. So if you'll excuse me, I think I'll head
back to my quarters for some rest." Rising from his barstool, Riker thrust
aside the glass he'd been holding.
"Will, wait," she looked up after him, only too well aware that her
request would be futile, "please..."
"Please?" he blew out a short breath, "please what? Please like
it was the other night, Deanna? Please like that?"
For the first time since she'd entered Ten Forward, Deanna locked eyes with him
directly. But it was she who looked away first. "I'm sorry," she
mumbled, "it was never my intention to--"
"I know that." Riker nodded. "It never is. Anyway, I don't think
I want to have this discussion again." He turned to go.
"Goodnight, Will." She spoke quietly to his back and though he paused
for an instant, he didn't turn around.
It came as a shock to them both, therefore, when it was Deanna who ultimately
left Ten Forward first.
She rose from her chair and with barely a final glance in his direction, she
whispered, "I am sorry, Will. Right now I wish it had never happened at
all."
Passing by him on her swift journey to the door, she was gone in a matter of
moments, and Riker stood awkwardly in the aftermath of her departure. Startled,
confused, and not nearly as angry as he wanted to be, his eyes remained locked
on the vacant entrance to the lounge for nearly a minute thereafter.
*
The arboretum sign read 'closed' when Riker stopped thoughtfully in front of it.
But with a single command to the Enterprise computer, he overrode the locking
mechanism and the entry opened wide before him. It was very dark inside. Dark
and damp and seemingly endless.
The faint sound of water, dripping placidly from foliage nearly a hundred feet
in the air seemed somehow soothing. He listened to the whisper of the artificial
stream that wound its way throughout the enclosure and the soft sigh of tree
branches. It reminded him of a planet-side night. But more than that, it
reminded him of another time and place, and the last time he'd been truly happy.
Of course he'd been content since then as well. But truly happy... the
kind of giddy joy that made a person want to make every moment of every day last
forever. That sort of happiness was reserved for children. And dreamers. And
people in love...
In the middle of "ship's night", the Enterprise arboretum was awash
with floating mist. Gossamer droplets of fine vapour hung in the air like tiny
diamonds beneath the artificial lighting. There was barely enough luminance to
perceive more than a vague semblance of flickering shadows, but somehow while
the water reflected the ambience, the entire enclosure--every plant and tree and
flower--seemed to glow of its own accord.
That was why he liked coming here at night. It was peaceful. Idyllic.
Unoccupied. And the fact that it reminded him of another garden he'd once been
intimately acquainted with, seemed almost to pale in comparison to those other
things. It had been, after all, a very long time since then.
"I suppose this wasn't a very good choice to visit after all," a soft
voice interceded Riker's thoughts from the shadows.
The fact that it was Deanna didn't startle him quite as much as the suddenly
familiar sensation that accompanied her murmur. He should have known better by
now. He should have realized... and perhaps he had realized. Maybe that was what
had drawn him here to begin with.
It was difficult to understand the link they somehow shared at the best of
times. In the worst... nearly impossible.
"It's all right," he followed the sensation of her presence father
into the dim. "I didn't know that you'd be here."
"I understand," she replied, "But I think, more accurately, you
didn't realize you knew that I would be here."
Riker sighed. That was Deanna. Forever trying to 'teach' him something she
thought could well be beyond his feeble Human capacity. Even in the midst of a
tremulous time for their friendship. "Maybe," he shrugged loosely.
"But as you're so fond of pointing out, I really can't say for sure. I'm
hardly an expert."
He could feel her cringe before her silhouette came gradually into view. With
every step he took, more of her profile was visible. He could see that she was
sitting on a bench, with her hands folded nearly in her lap. Deanna Troi, in
full 'thoughtful repose'. It was almost enough to make him smile. But not quite.
"I miss you," her gentle voice was tipped with sadness.
"Really," he deadpanned.
"Yes, really. You're my best friend..."
"I was."
"You are!" Deanna's shadow rose quietly and moved toward him,
"Will, I feel as though I'm walking in a dream. Nothing seems real. Not
without you to share it with. 'No matter the course of our lives', you promised
me. You said those very words: 'No matter the course of our lives, Deanna,
we'll always be friends.'" Looking down at her hands, she shook her head,
"we vowed that we would never let this happen to us."
"You're right. We did make a promise. And as I recall, you
promised never to lie to me. What happened to that promise, Deanna? Or do
you just split hairs whenever it suits your higher Betazoid purpose?"
"William, that isn't fair."
"Isn't it? What about your little game then? Is that fair?" he shot
back, more forcefully than he'd intended.
"My what?"
"Come on, Deanna. Don't stand there and act naive. We both know the score,
we've known it for years and it's Troi 1000, Riker nothing!"
"Will, I honestly don't understand--"
"All right then," he glared at her, "I'll lay it out on the table
for you. You get a piece of me, Deanna. A piece of my mind is always yours, no
matter what happens. I can never take that away from you, and you've always used
that to give yourself the upper hand in every disagreement we've had."
Deanna gasped incredulously. "I have not!"
"Oh yes you have. You get that 'sense' of me you call our bond. But then
again, I'm only Human right? I don't even understand what the hell it is I'm
feeling half the time. You know what, Deanna, when it comes to my feelings,
I'll even grant you that point," he lifted a hand and gestured impatiently,
"sometimes I want to be with you so much, I can't think straight. And other
times... I feel as though we're already together. I have dreams. Vivid dreams,
Deanna, but they're not fantasies. They're more than that..."
"I said that I was--"
"Sorry?" Riker scoffed, "well save it. I don't want your 'sorry',
Deanna. I'm sick to death of your apologies and your holier-than-thou attitude.
You don't KNOW what's right for us, any more than I do!"
"Damn you Will Riker." Deanna advanced on him perilously, "I will
not do this to myself again! This conversation is as ridiculous now as it was
the first time you tried to have it with me!"
"You think this is about you, Deanna? About your feelings? Do
you think you have the monopoly on getting hurt?"
Turning away from him with a livid breath, Deanna faced the outer edge of the
enclosure. "I told you, I'm not doing this," she said flatly.
Riker stared at her back for several silent moments. "Fine," he
finally responded, "don't 'do this'. You know what? Why don't you go back
to your little kingdom on Betazed and rule from on high with your mother. That
way you can keep telling people what to think and how to feel, and be justified
in doing it!"
Before she could turn on him again, Riker thrust aside a tangle of tree branches
in his path and strode into the darkness, heading for the door. The pulsing
pressure of fury roared between his ears, blocking everything else out of
existence. But as he neared the exit panel, a firm hand descended harshly on his
arm from behind, yanking him back with a vice-like grip.
If he had wanted to, he could have thrown her to the ground. If he had half the
mind for it, he might have given in to his impulse and shoved her cruelly aside;
been done with everything. But in the instant that he turned and met the flash
of her indignant expression, he suddenly felt more satisfied than vengeful.
"Telling people how to feel?" she demanded. "Rule from on high?
Is that what you really think of me?"
Standing opposite her furious stance, Riker squared his shoulders. "We poor
pathetic Humans have a saying, Deanna. If the shoe fits... Do you even
care?"
"No!" she spat vehemently. But in the heat of her enraged expression,
something suddenly snapped. Deanna's shoulders fell dramatically and she
released his arm. "Yes..."
The anger in her eyes was abruptly gone. Falling backward several steps, she
stared at the ground, while Riker stared at her in shock.
Part of him wanted instinctively to move forward; to fold her in his arms and
tell her that everything would be okay. But a much larger part of him had
already frozen his body with frustration and anger. So he remained where he
stood, watching without a sound.
Having gathered her thoughts, Deanna looked back up at him. There were no tears
in her eyes, nor was there any hint of avarice. Only quiet deliberation when she
said, "you think I'm a monster."
For a long moment, he said nothing. But then he sighed. "Not a monster,
Deanna. But you can be damned self-serving sometimes. And that's a very Human
thing to be. Except that you won't accept that about yourself."
"No," she whispered, "what you've just described is little better
than a monster, on Betazed--"
"The hell with Betazed!!" Riker threw both hands in the air.
"I beg your pardon?" she gaped.
"Half of you is Human, Deanna! Like it or not. Half of you will always
be Human."
"I've never had a problem with that."
"Like hell you haven't," he almost laughed, "you know something?
I think if you were fully Betazoid, you and I would probably be married
by now!"
Deanna's eyes widened, "married?"
"Yeah, that is what normal people in love would do after seventeen
years of courtship, don't you think?"
"Will, my heritage has absolutely nothing to do with--"
"Oh, open your eyes, Deanna! Look around. You're scared to death!"
Riker took several steps toward her and then stopped, softening both his tone
and his countenance. "A week ago, we were so happy. What happened to that?
We've been together for months since the Briar Patch, we had one little
argument--which we resolved!--but then the very next day you come to me and tell
me that it's over? That we're not... compatible? Deanna, if we're not
'compatible' then I don't know what the hell that word even means!" He
laughed thinly, "was it because I told you I was in love with you?"
Her eyes filled with tears.
"That's it, isn't it?" Riker shook his head.
"Will, we can't..."
"Why not? I want the same piece of you that you have of me. Why can't I
have that? Why can't you give me even that much?" When Deanna spoke again,
it was far too quiet to hear. "What was that?" he asked.
Lifting her shoulders, she held his expression directly and she exhaled a
shallow breath. "I said, you're right. I am afraid. But not of you. I'm
afraid of myself. I'm afraid of what I feel when I'm around you...."
"It all comes down to control for you, doesn't it?" Riker took another
step, but there was no accusation in his voice. "That's what I've been
trying to show you, Deanna. That you don't always have to be in control.
That it's okay to 'let go' once in a while. Just .... let life happen."
"Will," she lifted shining eyes and then began to pace, "that may
be a simple thing for you to say, but it goes against everything I've ever been
taught. You have to understand--"
"I do understand. I've spent the last two decades learning to
understand, Deanna, and now that I do, maybe it's time you let yourself learn
something from me for a change." When she didn't respond
immediately, he smiled self-deprecatingly. "Let the blind human lead?"
Deanna shook her head and offered him a wry smile, pausing in mid-step.
"Whatever else you may have considered, Will, I've never thought of you as
any less than you are. And you should also know by now, there's no one in my
life whose experience and judgement I hold in higher esteem. Not even the
Captain. So please don't make me out to be some hateful intolerant. I would
spend my last breath defending your integrity and I think you know that very
well."
Riker glanced at the grass. "You're right," he sighed, "I'm
sorry. I was out of line."
"Apology accepted." Deanna was still watching him when he lifted his
head. "And I'm sorry," her luminous eyes glistened in the
semi-darkness, "if I've ever contributed to your feeling that you were less
than worthy of being loved. Will nothing could be further from the truth. Please
believe me..."
He sighed. "Not this time, Deanna. I want to. God knows I want to, and I
accept your apology with all my heart. But it isn't enough. Not anymore."
"I know you want more," she answered, "and I know that I've given
you mixed signals... when we made love the last time... I shouldn't have--"
"If you're going to apologize for being with me that last time," he
muttered, "please don't. I'd like at least one fond, recent memory
to keep."
Though her tears had fully formed again, Deanna managed a wan smile.
"You're not making this easy on me."
"Should I?" Riker looked up heatedly. "I made it 'easy' on you
the last time, Deanna, when you walked away and I did nothing about it. I didn't
feel I had the right."
"You didn't."
"Maybe not," he took a final step and placed a gentle hand atop her
shoulder, "but I sure as hell do this time. If fifteen years of friendship
on board this ship hasn't granted that to me, then nothing ever could."
Deanna scowled. "I'm not a holodeck character, Will, you can't just
reprogram my responses to suite your whim."
"What's the matter, Deanna? Is that famous resolve of yours not quite as
certain as you thought it was?"
"My resolve is just fine, thank you."
"Except that you want me," he leaned closer and whispered against her
hair, "it's driving you crazy that you can't control that part, isn't it?
The way it feels when we're together, like this..."
Stepping away from his proximity, Deanna took a long breath and glared at him.
"I think we both could use some rest, Will. And then you're right. We should
talk about this. When we're thinking more clearly."
Riker grinned. "Why? I'm thinking just fine. You're not?"
"I--I'm fine, I just--" Deanna stammered, then narrowed her eyes,
"I'm leaving now. I'll see you in the morning."
Riker regarded her solemnly for a short moment before he finally stood aside.
Gesturing grandly, he indicated the door to the arboretum and answered,
"fine. Be my guest."
Deanna looked down at his outstretched arm. But she overcame her suspicion and
walked carefully past him. Riker watched her go. She was almost at the door when
her shoulders squared and she suddenly paused.
There was only a fractional instant between that moment and the second she
turned. Flying forward, Deanna launched herself into his arms and sealed their
lips with the feverish insistence of a thousand lifetime's desire.
For a blinding instant, Riker didn't know whether to hold on or push back. But
the option was wrested from him when her whispered voice tickled the edge of his
ear. "You're right. To hell with reason *and* Betazed."
Riker felt his spirit merge with hers, enveloping them both in a powerful,
dreamlike isolation. "That's very human of you, Deanna," his quiet
observation transformed into a needful groan, but he returned her intimate
attention with equal enthusiasm.
"I've had a good teacher," she buried her face against the side of his
neck.
"I think I could love your Human half..."
"Kiss me..." Deanna's voice spilled, sweet as honey along the side of
his face, but Riker demurred. A powerful sense of dejavu overwhelmed him.
"Deanna--" he held back, questioning the moment. Warring with his
insubordinate desire.
"Will," she sighed, leaning closer; brushing her mouth intimately over
his, "don't stop."
And suddenly it all made sense. The time apart. The vivid, passionate dreams
night after night...
"Deanna!" he gasped aloud, "it was you all along, wasn't
it?"
"Please, Will," she pleaded, her breath a warm trickle against his
skin, "I need you--"
Their mouths met again. Desperate and deep. Despite himself, despite everything,
Riker felt as though he was going to laugh. Or shout. Or do something to express
the painful frustration she'd put him through just to make a simple point. A
very important point, but a simple one, none the less. An entire week of
misery... for this?
'Yes... for this...' a velvet voice inside his mind sang softly and he
knew somehow--beyond a shadow of a doubt--that it was her. Whispering her name,
he wrapped his arms around her body and felt them both collapse.
'Oh, hell. What difference did it really make whether she'd made her
point or he'd made his...?'
Deanna fell against his chest and he inhaled the faintly floral scent of her
hair. Lilacs. She loved lilacs. And he loved...
Her.
More than anything. More than Starfleet. More than life.
Deanna watched his revelation through a pair of dark, affectionate eyes.
<Picard to Riker>
Both of them froze. With her body atop his chest, Riker held them both immobile,
breathing quietly before he managed the presence of mind to tap the COMM badge
he still wore.
"Riker here..." he looked up at her, still captivated.
'Imzadi...' her telepathic whisper filled his thoughts. 'be my
teacher...'
<Commander, > Picard's voice strictly intervened, <Mr. LaForge and I
were wondering if you had a few moments you might be able to spare in going over
these reports?>
Though she hadn't made another sound, Riker could feel Deanna's silent laughter
against his skull. He responded by rolling them both over; trapping her slight
body beneath him in the moist grass. Even in the darkness, with a haze of warm
vapour hovering between them, he could sense the reality of her intimate smile.
"Sir," he looked down at her and grinned, "with due respect...
this isn't a very good time. Unless it's an emergency?"
<Not at all Number One. I only thought, since you couldn't sleep...>
"I don't think I'll have a problem with that anymore, Captain," he
bent closer to Deanna's ear and brushed his face against her hair. "With
your permission, I'll see to those reports first thing in the morning."
<Of course,> the Captain's oblivious voice returned, <carry on then.
Goodnight.>
The COMM fell silent, but Riker was still grinning when he whispered in Troi's
ear. "He did say 'carry on' didn't he, Counselor?"
Deanna laughed. "He did," and then she drew her arms around his neck.
"But did you really say... married?"
Riker's silent response was absolute. Tilting his head, he regarded her
critically--before his smiling lips descended fervently on hers.
[end]