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]