I've wanted to explore an episodic idea I had for a short piece, so I thought
I'd exercise that right and work in a different creative direction. This is the
result, all ten parts, unedited and on the fly. No grammatical or stylistic
feedback please: I really don't care <smiles> I wrote this in two evenings
and it hasn't gone through an editor.
Timeframe: post the episode: "Violations", which as you may recall
involved a race of telepathic historians who were able to enter the minds of
their (willing) participants and extract memories long forgotten. One of them (Jev)
of course is rogue and uses his power to invade the minds of several senior
officers including the doctor, the counselor and the commander. He plants false
memories and feeds off of the trauma this causes his victims. This little short
picks up just as that episode leaves off and centres around Riker and Troi in
the aftermath.
It was late. A difficult meeting of the senior staff had finally concluded, and
Deanna was clearly preoccupied.
Traveling at a speed of warp four, the Enterprise had passed through Ullian
space and emerged on a new day with barely a visible scar. They were free. Free
to continue on their never ending journey of exploration, free to look life back
in the face once more.
But some of them would not entirely be able to embrace that release. For some of
them, there would only be freedom once the trauma of an invisible violation had
healed. It was those sorts of wounds that one couldn't really analyze which
roiled beneath the surface. The kind that hurt for a very long time even after
the threat had passed.
With the starlight from the observation lounge blinking wanly in the background,
William T. Riker remained in his seat; silently watching while a friend of his
seemed oblivious to their solitude.
"Deanna--"
"Hm?" She'd been staring at the table. Her gaze hadn't lifted since
the Captain announced their resumption of regular duty assignments; a task which
meant that Riker and Troi would be working together for the next several days
handling crew evaluations.
It was that time of year once again. Usually a welcome reprieve from the every
day monotony of a scheduled existence; this time it was clear that Deanna wasn't
at all very pleased. She seemed to have something extremely particular on her
mind, and it was bothering her to the point of distraction. The question was ...
what? And did it have something to do with the Ullian delegates; the one they
called "Jev", whose unwelcome telepathic intrusion had violated their
thoughts in a manner which even his own people referred to as 'rape'.
"You haven't said much." Riker shifted in his chair. He was quiet
while she considered, as much to offer her time to think as to indicate that he
was worried about her. And he was worried about her. He'd been worried about her
from the moment she'd fallen into a mysterious comma; now resolved, at least in
theory.
Understanding was all he wanted to find right now. If she would only look at
him, she would see that. And see that what he knew of her attack that night was
solely confined to the bits and pieces of an official report. A report which
would only confirm for him that there was a lot more to the events of that night
than a gathering of professional sounding words on some data PADD.
"I'm tired," dark eyes lifted in apathy.
"That's all?" He pressed, unable to purchase her side-step any more
than he'd been willing to accept the conclusion of the official report. It said
that Deanna Troi was 'fine'. Recovered. By all accounts fit for the resumption
of a regular duty assignment just as soon as her schedule permitted.
"Yes." she retuned his wan smile. "That's all."
"You'd tell me if it were more than that?"
"Yes." Her head lifted, shoulders pressed forward. She sat back in her
chair, affording him a sharp look. One which meant she clearly wanted him to let
the matter drop.
"I don't believe you." He countered. What was she thinking? Behind
those dark eyes which seemed to analyze their universe with far greater acumen
than he'd ever been able to. How had she rationalized what had happened? Riker
wanted to know. He needed to know because if she had somehow managed to deliver
an explanation which was better than the one he'd come up with, he wanted to
hang onto it as well.
"Well," Troi pressed her hands to her knees and stood. "Either
you think I'm lying," her sharp look focused matter-of-factly on him,
"or you think I've got something I desperately need to confess." She
almost scowled, but seemed able to rein the gesture in at the penultimate
moment. Her expression remained impassive. "Either way, you would clearly
be operating on the assumption that I'd seek your counsel at all."
Riker stared at her, and then at the table. He opened his mouth, but then shut
it and shrugged.
"Okay," He rose to his feet. "I'm sorry I asked."
"I have an appointment. I'd better be going."
"Sure." Troi turned to go while he watched. "I'll see you at 1900
hours," Riker called after her.
"What?"
"The evaluation reports? We always go over them in my quarters, over
dinner. Unless you had other plans?"
"I-- tonight isn't good for me, Will." Deanna seemed to consider for a
moment. She looked away and then back. "Lets do them during my regular
office hours. Tomorrow morning at 0900?"
Regular office hours? Riker's heart hammered incessantly against the inside of
his chest. Something was wrong; definitely wrong, but her request was completely
reasonable. He couldn't come up with a single 'professional' reason why they
shouldn't do things in just the way she'd described. Except that they hadn't --
ever. Never done it that way before in all the years they'd served together on
board the Enterprise.
"Yeah." He found himself nodding with more decorum than he felt.
"That'll be fine." She turned to go once more. "I'll see you
then," he added.
"Goodnight Will." Deanna smiled very briefly, and then was gone.
"Night." He stared after her; long after her, and the hammer of his
heartbeat never slowed.
tbc...
------------------------
Just Tell Me This
QDestinyy@aol.com
Part 2
------------------------
//She's dead.//
The world seemed surreal, cloaked in a shifting, rippling reality. Voices, loud
and disjointed echoed in Will Riker's thoughts.
//You killed her.//
A woman's wail cried out from some place far away.
"Lower the blast doors!" Riker listened to the bark of his own
command. Smoke filled the bowels of engineering and a young lieutenant scrambled
forth from the fog, gasping for breath.
//She's still in there! Sir!//
Red lights blinked on and off, Geordi LaForge yelled something; indiscernible.
The alarm would not shut up.
//Ensign Keller! Sir, she's still in there!//
//You killed her.//
//Sir, we have to shut those doors!// Geordi's voice called back. //Now sir!//
// She's dead.// The acrid smell of burnt flesh filled Riker's nostrils.
// You killed her.//
"Close those doors!" Riker called the command. Again and again; his
own voice rang out above all the others. Every voice ... except Jev's.
//You killed her.//
"No!"
The room was dark. Riker flew forward in bed and clutched the sheets to his
chest, breathing erratically. "She's not dead." He swallowed the ball
in his throat and threw the covers from his sweat-soaked body. Shoving both legs
over the end of the bed, Riker propelled himself into an upright position and
staggered to the hygiene unit, grasping for the water tap.
Cool liquid spilled down over his hands. The small lamp over the sink flickered
briefly as he splashed a welcome dose of moisture over the angry heat of his
flesh. Staring back at his own reflection, Riker pulled both hands through damp
tendrils of his hair. "She didn't die," he whispered to the image in
his mirror. "Computer, time."
A mournful bleep responded. ||| The time is 0450 hours |||
Too early to wake up. To late to go back to sleep. He dropped his hands to his
sides and padded back towards his bed. Maybe he could get a head start on those
crew evaluations. Save Deanna a little time on looking up the particulars of
every service commendation for the past year. She seemed to enjoy that part of
the evaluation process least of all.
He sighed.
Seeing her in the morning would be good. Maybe if she felt a little better, she
would talk to him. Maybe let him tell her. He had to tell someone. And he
couldn't tell anyone else. It was an everlasting catch twenty-two. In a universe
full of secrets, Deanna Troi was the only one that he could really trust.
If things were different in the morning, she might listen. And if she did that,
he would talk. Riker knew with sudden clarity; if she listened, he would say all
the things he once swore he'd never say.
-o-
Deanna sat up with a start. The room was dark, and there was no one there but
her. For a moment, she thought she'd had another nightmare. But her memory was
clear. There was nothing to remind her of a broken series of images; of a memory
too horrible to recover. Only her sense of Will was strong. That must have been
what had woken her.
He was upset. She felt his anger and the healthy dose of harsh recrimination
which followed. Lifting her hand to her face, Troi loosened her hair and
gathered her tumbling thoughts.
After a time, the power and focus of Riker's emotion began to dissipate. Her
sense of him returned to normal, or at least a vague semblance of what normal
once had been. It was a relief, at least in part, because if he had not returned
to normal, she would have begun to worry - as she often did when he was less
than at his best. And if she'd worried, she would eventually have gone to see
him, no matter the hour. That would have been difficult.
She hadn't spoken to him about the incident he'd undergone with Jev, and neither
did she want to. Primarily because such conversation would irrevocably lead back
to her, and she was not prepared to enter such a scenario. Not with him. At
least, not now.
The chrono near her bed flashed 0450 hours. It was early ship's morning. In just
a few hours she would rise to begin a new day. Two appointments before nine,
followed by a visit from Commander Riker himself.
They would spend the rest of the day doing crew evaluations, and likely the rest
of the next day, and the one after that. It was a necessary process, but it
involved a great deal of research and collaboration on their parts.
Will seemed grateful enough. In the glory days of Starfleet, before they'd seen
fit to offer their larger starships a full time ship's counselor, it had always
been the sole responsibility of the ship's executive officer to come up with the
annual report on crew performance and promotional recommendations. It was an
arduous and often thankless process which had become shared with the advent of
her position. Now it was something they did together; something they had done
together from the very beginning of their assignment to the Enterprise.
In their first year on board, Will had confided that he'd never actually had
help before. His previous two assignments as XO had been on ships not considered
large enough for a counseling officer. She remembered him teasing that it was
nice to finally be able to delegate.
As her recollection drifted, Deanna saw herself smiling and asking whether his
ego would mind moving over for a while so that they'd be able to get things done
in a more timely manner. It was their familiarity as friends which allowed her
to taunt him in so bold a manner, but he seemed to enjoy that too. Enjoy it as
he did most of the moments they were assigned together.
Troi sighed. If she were honest with herself, she would also have admitted that
she really did enjoy those moments as well. At least, she had in the past. She
should have, even now. And she loathed herself for what Jev had forced her to
feel.
Yet the feeling remained. No matter her logic; no matter her endless meditation,
the terror which boiled in her throat turned into revulsion, and then a helpless
sense of panic.
Gathering her thoughts, Deanna laid her head against her pillow and allowed her
eyes to close. Breath after breath it grew easier. It always did. Perhaps some
day it would finally be easy enough to forget.
She tried to sleep instead. Another two hours of rest might not be the most
effective use of her time, but she was suddenly overcome by the weight of just
how exhausted she was.
With considerations for the next day's schedule and thoughts of Will Riker's
teasing sense of humor still fresh in her mind, Deanna Troi fell quietly into a
dark and dreamless sleep.
------------------------
Just Tell Me This
QDestinyy@aol.com
Part 3
------------------------
"Come." Deanna lifted her head from her desk and pressed two fingers
to her eyes. If she stared at one more word on a data PADD, she was certain she
would permanently go blind.
The door to her office slid perfunctorily aside and Will Riker stood in the
stopgap. Smiling; holding something in his hand, he peered cautiously over her
guest couch.
"Am I early?" he asked, affording her a deferential tone she wasn't
entirely certain she enjoyed.
"No. I was just going over my case notes for my last patient." Swiping
at the painful reminder of that task, Deanna removed her hand from over her
eyes. "I think I'm about done with data PADDs for the day."
"Uh oh. Then I guess you're not happy to see me in here." Riker
sheepishly lifted the stack of PADDs in his hand. He offered her an apologetic
cringe.
Troi sighed loudly, but all she was able to manage was a shrug. "Duty
calls, I suppose," her eyes narrowed. "Is that all you brought?"
"You know me too well." Riker smirked. Pulling his other hand out from
behind his back, he exposed a small tray with two cups on it. One, she was
certain, held her favorite kind of hot chocolate. The kind Guinan made in
Ten-Forward that she couldn't seem to replicate no matter how hard she tried.
"You're absolved!" She found herself grinning, reaching eagerly for
the sweet, warm, respite.
Handing her the small metal tray, Riker laid the contents of his other hand on
the edge of her desk and leaned forward. "It's good to see you smiling
again," he whispered.
In one fell swoop, a familiar anxiety flooded her being and the expression
drained from her features. Deanna felt it go even as an automatic, and hopefully
convincing replacement slid quickly into place over top of it. "Shall we
get started?" she asked, suddenly serious.
"Of course." Riker rose to his full height, towering over her, though
it seemed an odd counterpoint to the look on his face.
-o-
Hours. They'd been pouring over crew evaluations for nearly seven of them. And
though the thirty-minute break they'd taken for lunch could hardly have
qualified as restful, the task of final performance appraisals dragged on
without respite.
"You know, Lt. Ashley really is the better qualified. I don't see why you
have such reservations." Deanna let a PADD slide from her grasp. It tumbled
to the desk while she sat backward, regarding Riker solemnly.
"Because he's too perfect, Deanna. Too by the book."
"And you consider that a problem? Since when?"
"Since ... since every now and then there are times when you can't do
everything by the book. When you have to follow your gut. Break a rule. Even if
it means you're not a perfect officer..." Will trailed off, scratching his
beard thoughtfully. Deanna was watching him, listening attentively, but he
couldn't place the expression she threw back. It was a huge relief, therefore,
when she smiled.
"Okay." Her shoulders rose and fell and she set the PADD aside, taking
up the next in the stack.
"Okay?" Riker leaned forward, dragging his chair toward her desk.
"You're giving in that easily?"
"I'm not `giving in', I'm conceding your point. It's a valid
observation."
Riker's smile broke into a grin. "Now I *know* we need a break."
"Why?" Deanna asked, suddenly defensive. "I can't agree with you?
Am I that horrible to be around? I antagonize you at every turn?" Her eyes
flashed.
"Whoa. Hey, hang on a second. I never said that." Will held up his
hands, mindful of the tension in the air. She'd been hot and cold all day so far
and this was only the latest example. "You know that's not true. I was only
teasing you."
Her dark eyes narrowed and she studied him in silence. "Fine." He
heard her exhale. "Maybe you're right. Lets take a short break. I think I
need something chocolate anyway."
"I know just the thing. It's in Ten Forward though - care to join me?"
He smiled and hoped she'd accept the offer, but the look on her face said
otherwise.
"I don't think so, Will. I really think I'll just ... stay here and rest
for a bit. Maybe take a break from these names," her gesture indicated a
stack of untouched PADDs still waiting on the desk. "You go ahead."
"Deanna, we've been cooped up in here all day. You have to get out for a
while," he argued, placing his hand on hers.
Troi froze. Literally. Completely. Riker felt her fingers go rigid beneath his
grasp as though he'd coated them with poison. He pulled his hand from hers
before she could move and saw her visibly relax. It was one of the most
indescribably horrible moments in his lifetime; a moment which ranked in the
same category as the look in her eyes when she raised her gaze to his.
"I don't want to go anywhere, Will. All right?" Her usually melodious
voice snapped ungainly at him and he found himself ready to cringe. "Just
go." With a wave of her hand she dismissed him.
Unable to think beyond the hurt that he was feeling, Riker rose obediently from
his chair. "Okay." He stepped away from her desk. "If you change
your mind, you know where to find me..." Looking back over his shoulder, he
saw that she was already facing the other direction. "You know what,
Deanna?" he added. "It's been a long day. Why don't we just call it a
night. We could both do with some rest."
"Fine. I'll see you in the morning." She answered him without turning.
"Deanna--"
"Will." The sound of her voice changed and it seemed for a moment that
she was calling to him. He watched her dark eyes find their way to his. "I
just want to be alone for a while." She was begging him, and he found that
he was shaking his head, unable to comprehend. "Please," she swallowed
visibly.
Riker stood where he was, unblinking. She'd wanted that for hours, hadn't she?
She'd wanted it desperately but she hadn't said a thing. "Of course,"
he whispered softly. "You know all you had to do was ask. Just tell me,
whatever you need. I may try to guess sometimes, but I can't read your
mind."
"I know." She broke his gaze and nodded. "I'm sorry." Her
eyes lifted and she managed a small smile. "Thank you."
For some reason, her gratitude was just about the last thing he wanted to see
right now. Riker turned without a word and slipped quietly through the doorway.
-o-
When she was certain he had gone, Deanna curled her fingers into fists and
slammed them painfully against the surface of her desk. Her head fell backward
and the tears in her eyes dripped, rage-filled and hot along her cheeks. She
held her fist until the palms of her hands began to bleed. Yet she was silent,
all the while.
------------------------
Just Tell Me This
QDestinyy@aol.com
Part 4
------------------------
"Deanna, I can't!" Lt. Russo stammered while she sobbed. The young
woman doubled over in her chair, clutching her knees to her chest. "I've
tried what you said, I really have, I just can't!"
"Daniele, no one is saying you shouldn't listen to your body. But listen to
your head as well. What is it telling you?" Counselor Troi focussed on the
obvious turmoil of her patient. Daniele Russo had been on the Enterprise for
nearly two years. She had a solid record of service in Starfleet and had
recently received a promotion to full lieutenant. Everything seemed to be in
order for the career of the young officer ... were it not for a dark and
forbidding piece of her past.
"That ... that I'm being an idiot." Russo looked away in disgust,
"I know that."
Four years earlier, on an Engineering detail, Daniele had fallen from a
twenty-six foot grid plank overlooking the warp core of a small starship. She'd
survived the fall physically intact, but the psychological ramifications had
left her with an interminable fear of heights. A problem which interfered with
her work as an engineer on a daily basis. She couldn't climb freestanding
ladders, or place her body on any catwalk where she could look towards a drop.
And she was miserable about her own inability to curb the terror she
instinctively felt when she tried to force herself.
"No." Placing her hand on the other woman's arm, Deanna squeezed it
gently. "You're not an idiot, Daniele, you're scared. And it's okay to be
scared. We're all afraid sometimes," the words struck a chord in Troi's own
mind, but she forced herself not to hear it. "It's only when we allow that
fear to command our lives, day to day, that it becomes an impediment to
us."
"But how do I let go? What if I can never let go?"
"You will. Because coming to see me is a useful first step. And after every
one of our visits, I see progress in you. Can't you see it in yourself?"
"I guess so. Maybe a little." Russo managed a small smile. "But
it isn't enough. Counselor, I want to be able to do all the things I used to do.
I feel like ... half a person in there. And I know that the others are getting
tired of taking my responsibilities for me. They were understanding at first,
but now."
"Has anyone said anything to you?" Deanna inquired.
"No. Nothing like that. I just know. I can see it in their eyes."
"Daniele." Troi exhaled softly. "Sometimes, we feel guilty for
what we can't accomplish. Or for how we feel, no matter our ability to help
ourselves. And the people around us may be completely well intentioned, but we
look to their actions for nuance or hidden meaning. I think perhaps, if you
really look closely, you might see that your colleagues are still supportive of
you."
"But I still can't do what you're asking me to do. I can't go up
there."
"Yes, you can." Deanna sat back, hoping to keep Daniele as focused as
she was right this instant. "You've already been up there more than once,
with accompaniment. The first time was difficult, the next a little less so. Do
you remember?" Troi waited only briefly for the other woman's nod.
"You can do it again on your own, Daniele. You have it within you to
command your own fate. Embrace your fear and master it."
"I have to go up there.." Russo dropped her gaze.
"You can do whatever you set your mind to do, Daniele."
Taking a breath, Lt. Russo nodded. "I can try it again."
"Good for you." Deanna smiled. "And this time I have every faith
that you'll succeed." She regarded Daniele a moment longer, watching as
much as sensing the terrible play of impending terror inside the young woman. It
was a feeling Troi recognized all too well, and the thought of it made her wish
the session would end before she had to get up and retch.
-o-
"End simulation!" Riker barked, standing rigidly over a cowering
junior ensign who clearly had the fear of some deity reflected in his eyes.
"Sir?" The young man stammered, "I don't understand."
"Ensign Mathers, your calculations are off by seventeen microns. Do you
have any idea what kind of consequences an error like that could have during a
tactical maneuver?" Still glaring at his prey, Riker scowled. "The
Enterprise would lurch to starboard, we'd be hit with everything the other ship
threw at us and whatever didn't explode on impact would end up torn from the
drive-section and thrown into space. We'd be dead, ensign. Dead. Because *you*
can't count."
"I-- I'm sorry sir. It was a mistake. I swear that I do know the math, I
was nervous, I was just--"
"That's enough!" With a final glare, Riker spun away from the young
man and gathered his breath. He was livid. Far more livid than he should ever
have been, and though he recognized that fact, it did nothing to alleviate the
emotion. "We'll discuss this later. You're dismissed." The hollow
sound of his whisper sent the young man scrambling from the room with as much
decorum as his trembling legs could manage. "You're all dismissed."
Turning to the small crew of junior officers still gathered on the holodeck,
Riker gestured loosely.
Most of them rose without further prompting; they fled from the room with only a
furtive backward glance at the unusually angry tone of their commanding officer.
Tactical evaluations would continue tomorrow evening with Commander LaForge, and
Riker had to admit -- all things being equal -- that he would be grateful for
the reprieve.
Under normal circumstances he enjoyed these virtual simulations; as much a
training exercise as an evaluation forum. He had patience with the young
officers and often found a kindred sense of determination in the boldest of
them. Only this time things were different. And he was damned if he knew why
that was.
The moment he'd seen ensign Mathers' calculations, Riker knew instantly that if
the scenario were real, they would all be dead. It was a certainty that could
have been avoided, and what if it *had* been real? An officer at the con of a
starship couldn't afford to make those kinds of mistakes.
But an ensign of Mathers' junior qualifications would never be at the con. That
was what the training sessions were all about. Dying in a holodeck simulation --
more often than not -- meant that you'd live through the real thing next time.
Fear was like that. It commanded education.
Left alone with a dark and yellow grid, Will Riker curled and uncurled his fists
at his sides. He sucked in a shallow breath, but the chirp of his comm badge
intervened.
<Troi to Riker>
Will jumped at the sound of her voice, then frowned. "Riker here." An
unnatural period of silence met his acknowledgement.
<Are you all right?> she finally asked.
Damn her empathy. "Fine," he answered back. She was quiet again; he
wasn't sure if he heard her sigh.
<I'd like to see you in my office when you have a moment.>
Riker's scowl was lost on an empty room. "I'm a little busy right
now," he lied.
<I can make it an order.>
"Like I could have made it an order last night?" He regretted the
words the moment they left his lips, but it was too late to take them back. The
sound of her silence was almost as loud as a scream. "Deanna--"
Troi's voice came back with all the authority of a starship captain. <My
office, or your quarters Commander. You decide.>
------------------------
Just Tell Me This
QDestinyy@aol.com
Part 5
------------------------
"It was nothing, Deanna." Riker paced her office like a caged animal,
turning only to confront the large, dark eyes she watched him with.
"It didn't feel like nothing."
"Well I don't recall inviting you to share the feeling," he grumbled.
"I'm worried about you, Will." She finally sighed. "I don't even
remember the last time I felt that much anger in you. You're lying to yourself
if you think that everything's just fine. And the officers you took it out on
this morning are too junior to understand that this isn't the way their
commander should be acting..."
"I beg your pardon?" Riker rounded on her. "Who the hell are you
to tell me how I should or shouldn't be acting, Deanna?"
"I'm the ship's Counselor."
"Then this is your `medical' opinion?"
"I'm also your friend."
"You could have fooled me."
"What?" If it were possible, her enormous eyes grew even larger.
"You think I'm an idiot?" Riker circled Troi's desk until he was
standing right in front of her. "You think I don't know that you can't
stand to be around me? That it's physically bothering you to be in the same room
with me, even now?" Only a breath of air remained to separate their bodies,
but he kept the distance sacred.
"It's not--"
"Now who's lying, Deanna?"
She looked away as he brought his hand up and placed it against her shoulder. As
soon as he touched her, the still-angry bruise on her arm screamed painfully and
Deanna felt herself cringe.
Riker yanked his hand away without a moment's hesitation. He looked hurt for a
split second before the light in his eyes flashed a modicum of silent
understanding. "What did he do to you?" When the words refused to
come, Deanna swallowed and looked at the floor. "He hurt you. How did he
hurt you?"
He was speaking of the physical, the mark on her shoulder that caused her to
cringe. Troi wanted to shake him; to scream that it wasn't that which tore into
her soul night after night; that it had nothing to do with a physical pain at
all. Only she couldn't. And his eyes grew cold once more.
"Forget it." He whispered sullenly, shaking his head and turning out
into the room. "Look, I'll be more careful. I'll apologize to Ensign
Mathers in the morning and maybe take a day off. Is that what you want?"
The challenge in his voice was unmistakable, but Deanna found herself staring
back at him blankly.
"What does that look mean?" He asked, obviously frustrated. She wished
she could tell him. She wished she could say anything. "Goodbye
Deanna." Riker turned to go, again.
"Stay." Troi barely managed the word. It forced itself from her throat
and seemed the only sound she could make. Deanna looked back at his startled
expression, desperately needing him to understand, but unable to say another
word.
"Here?" He lifted his hand and gestured.
"No. Not here." She played with her fingers, then frowned.
"Will you talk to me?" Riker took a step forward and stopped. She knew
he would have taken another, but he was forcing himself to remain at arms
length.
"I think so." She moved toward him instead.
From less than a footstep away, Riker held out his hand and she regarded it
warily. A part of her wanted urgently to take it, to pull herself forward into
the arms she knew would welcome her with warmth. But another part of her
whispered that it would only be the same as it was before; that she would hear
the voice of Jev and feel the harsh push of his hands against her body.
"I guess not." Riker sighed. His fingers began to close.
------------------------
Just Tell Me This
QDestinyy@aol.com
Part 6
------------------------
He was hurt and confused. From a heartbeat away, Troi regarded him with
tentative eyes. He could see that she was thinking; that it was something she
struggled with. But he could never have imagined how much her tiny hesitation
would cost his heart. In all the years, in all their time together as friends --
she'd never shied away from his touch. Never until now.
"Okay." He whispered softly, dropping his arm. But she stopped him.
Troi took another step and her hand slipped quietly into his. The warm close of
her grasp was the first responsive contact he'd had from her in days and it
drove itself directly into his spirit. The simplest of gestures, it made his
heart twist painfully inside his chest.
Something was wrong. He'd never seen her this way before. Even now, with her
dark gaze focused resolutely on his, he could see that she was trembling. She
was terrified, and the grip of her hand grew stronger every moment from the
force of it.
"Okay." She answered his look with one of her own.
"Where are we going?" he asked simply, ignoring the voice in his head;
the one that said her fear had everything to do with him. It seemed a good idea,
considering they were nearing the door. But in the interim between his question
and her somewhat tardy response, they'd already left her office, proceeded
through the corridor, and found the turbolift unoccupied.
"My quarters." Deanna shrugged loosely, rubbing her shoulder with a
free hand.
That sounded reasonable enough. "Deck eight." Riker called into the
lift. Her other hand remained locked in his and the force of her hold had become
almost painful. He scrutinized floor. "Deanna, are you--"
"How much do you know?" she interrupted, keeping her eyes on the
pulsing light of each deck as they passed by.
"A little. Bits and pieces, mostly. What was officially reported."
When she looked at him again, Riker swallowed. "Enough to know there's a
lot more to it than that."
Troi nodded simply. The lift stopped moving and the door slid open. "What
about you?" Dark eyes penetrated his thoughts; etching patterns he wasn't
certain he wanted to examine.
"I'm okay." He manufactured a smile. Releasing her hand, Will wasn't
sure from her expression whether she was mortified or grateful.
"Really?" She crossed her arms over her chest.
"Yeah." Riker cleared his throat. He had to look away, so he found
some fascination with the lift panel near the door. "I barely even
remember, frankly. It's all a little fuzzy."
She was silent. He looked up and found her staring at him through a mixture of
what appeared to be compassion and acceptance. "It was just an old
memory," he shrugged. "Nothing important."
"Unless it wasn't the past you remembered." The expression in her eyes
was odd; he couldn't place it, but it chilled the inside of his heart. Maybe his
first impression had been right after all. Riker cautiously exhaled.
When Deanna touched his arm, he nearly jumped. Physical contact from her seemed
suddenly out of place and he found himself uncertain how to accept it.
Thankfully the point became moot before he actually had to deal with it.
She withdrew her hand and it became apparent that they had somehow been moving
since the turbolift -- although Riker for the life of him couldn't remember
placing one foot in front of the other. They had arrived at her quarters.
"When we walk through those doors," her voice was soft, "I need
you to tell me everything. Can you do that?"
He met her eyes. Everything? Could he? He wanted to speak, but how would he
answer? There was nothing he could say, so he said nothing at all.
Until she turned from him.
Riker stopped her with his hand. He touched her shoulder, then pulled away,
closing his fist apologetically before she looked back.
"Yes." he could only stare while she studied his eyes. Hers was the
most beautiful face he'd ever known, and it twisted a painful knot inside his
gut to see her like this -- so drawn with uncertainty and so obviously filled
with apprehension; an apprehension that seemed to revolve around him.
For a moment, Deanna's gaze poured into his soul. But she finally nodded. The
tension in her body relaxed, and she accessed the code for her quarters.
------------------------
Just Tell Me This
QDestinyy@aol.com
Part 7
------------------------
Silence ensued. Whole minutes of it ticked by, adding to the past several hours.
Yet it always seemed a comfortable reprieve. At the end of the day, who could
really afford to stand together in silence for so long a time without feeling
awkward? Who could accept such an obvious social blunder, except a very good
friend?
Riker found that he was almost smiling when Troi finally did look back at him.
They stood apart, cautiously examining each other before he walked slowly across
the room. Placing his hand against a wall, Will drew a breath. "It was the
warp core breach. A couple years ago." He didn't need to ask if she had
heard.
"Ensign Keller?" Troi inquired softly.
"How did you--?"
"I knew that she was injured. I knew you gave the order." Deanna
clasped her hands and sat on a nearby couch. "You never talked about that
day."
"Yeah." Riker studied the wall. "I gave the order."
"You had to give the order."
He heard her words and felt their truth, yet he shrugged and turned away,
beginning his pace once more.
"You're a good man, Will." Deanna stood and followed him to a window.
Her hand hovered over his arm, but never settled. He could feel the breath of
space between them and he knew she would have touched him. He also knew that
there was a terrible reason why she didn't. "Ensign Keller doesn't hold you
responsible for what happened. It was an accident, and she survived it."
"Barely," Riker's hand clenched at his side.
"You saved the ship. The others in Engineering, you got everyone
out..."
"Except for her."
"Including her."
"What did he do to you, Deanna?" Will rounded from the window, but he
moved slowly, deliberately considerate of her space. "It has something to
do with me, doesn't it?"
Troi froze. The light of caring in her eyes blinked suddenly out of existence
and replaced itself with a distant, haunted expression.
"You can tell me..." He pleaded with her, begged her in as quiet a
voice as he had ever been able to manage. She looked away. "You can't tell
me." Riker acknowledged his own statement with a rueful shake of the head.
"But god, I wish you would."
"The other night, I woke up." Deanna studied the floor. "It was
almost five in the morning."
"I had a nightmare." He shrugged. "I guess it just seemed a
little too real."
"You were angry," he saw her hand curl at her side; watched her
struggle with their physical distance just as he had. "You were frightened.
I thought, for a minute--"
"The day you fell into a coma was the most frightening day of my whole
life." Riker looked down at her and it suddenly seemed like his 'whole
life' was somehow wrapped up in what it was to stand here next to her this way.
"They didn't know how, or why. Doctor Crusher didn't even know if you'd
wake up. She sent me back to my quarters." He tore his gaze away from hers
watched the stars. "But all I could think about was the way you were lying
there ... alone."
"Is that why you had a nightmare?"
"No. It was--" Riker slowly exhaled. "--after that. I was sitting
at my desk, and I started to remember that night in Engineering. Everyone was
frantic. Geordi -- Geordi kept shouting that we had to seal the blast doors. I
knew that there were still people inside. A few officers ... ensign
Keller."
"You had to seal the doors."
"I know." He looked up, met her eyes and somehow found something there
that made it easier to continue. "I had a couple seconds left. I saw them
coming out, two lieutenants, one of them was injured ... and then ensign Stiles.
He staggered out of the smoke and he was yelling something about Keller. 'She's
still in there.' -- I looked past him but I couldn't see her. The air was thick
and there was no one... I had to close the doors."
"...Stiles grabbed onto me." Riker continued. "He kept saying
'she's dead' ... 'she's dead' ... and then his face changed. I was looking at
Jev. He took Stiles' place, only I couldn't really tell the difference anymore.
He was saying: 'you killed her'." Will looked up, watching Deanna and
wishing he could grab onto her and drown the trauma of his memory in the warmth
of her embrace. Except she hadn't offered one. "I thought he was right,
Deanna. In that moment, I knew I *had* killed her. And her death was my fault.
My orders."
"You had less than a second to make a decision that could well have saved
the whole ship. Jev was never there. Never!" She spat the Ullian's name so
bitterly that Will nearly staggered backward in surprise. "Ensign Keller
never died, and there isn't an officer on board this ship who wouldn't trust you
with their lives..."
"Except you." Riker felt a burning sting touch back of his eyes.
"Deanna, you won't even let me near you. You won't let me touch you. You
are the only person on this ship - in this universe - that I feel like I can
trust completely - and you can't stand to be in the same room with me!"
"That isn't true!" The anger in her voice turned to anguish and Deanna
looked away. Her whole body shook, but not with the force of tears. With
something else; something far less innocent.
She gathered her arms around her torso while Riker watched -- feeling as
helpless as he had that day in sickbay -- when she lay unresponsive; lost to an
unknown coma.
------------------------
Just Tell Me This
QDestinyy@aol.com
Part 8
------------------------
"What am I supposed to think?" Riker moved toward the door and Deanna
forced herself to look up at him; observing his eyes and his face. She felt the
painful familiarity of his emotion; even the kind that hurt as much as he was
hurting right now. It felt nothing like Jev. Nothing at all.
But that wasn't enough.
//Have you stopped thinking about us? Just answer that.// She turned away as the
memory of Will's voice began to echo in her thoughts. //Imzadi// ... //Have you
stopped thinking about us?//
"Deanna please..." Riker's request threatened to choke her.
"Please, talk to me. If you ever cared for me, tell me what I've
done." Desperate to reach her, he took another step forward. "Imzadi..."
"No!" Troi wailed. Backed against the wall, she sank to her knees and
pulled her arms around her legs, curled into a fetal ball.
Will crouched down in front of her. "Baby," his hand hovered over her
skin before he pulled it away, "what happened to you?"
"What happened to me?" Deanna sobbed. "He stole the one thing I
was sure of in my life!" She shrank away from Will's proximity, even as a
part of her wanted to lose herself in him. "He took..." The sight of
Riker, nearly as helpless as she felt made her cry even harder. "My faith
in you ... my trust."
"It was me..." Riker whispered, suddenly certain. "I'm the one
whose place he took in your memory."
She tried to answer, but only a broken sound came out.
"No," Will exhaled the word, turning from her. He fell into a seated
position and shoved his back against the arm of her couch.
Nearly a meter of space separated their bodies and he stared at her in abject
dismay. A feeling of revulsion climaxed inside of him, making her ill.
"We were together." Troi forced herself to ignore the flood of anger
she felt from him. Shoved it far from her senses or she would have stopped and
been unable to start again. "The night of the poker game in your quarters,
when the chips fell on the floor." A light of recognition illuminated his
eyes and she knew that he was remembering as well. "You ... touched
me."
"And you asked me to stop."
"Yes." Troi looked away, focused on the terrible rise of burning panic
in her chest. "Your hands were ... on my arms. At first I wanted you to
touch me, but I knew that it was wrong, so I asked you to stop. Just like
before." Her gaze lifted, "only you didn't. And suddenly it was Jev.
He was touching me ... touching ."
"Deanna, oh, Deanna no." Riker covered his eyes with the balls of his
hands. He shook his head as though it would make the whole thing somehow
disappear. "Oh my god.." he looked to her and the sound of his heart
shattering whole seemed to echo in her ears.
She crawled toward him, feeling his hurt for the first time in days, more keenly
than her own. And her hands settled against his bearded cheek.
She wanted to tell him that she knew it hadn't been him; that she knew in her
soul he would never do what Jev had done, but the memory remained. As hard as
she pushed it aside, it was Will's face she saw every night when she closed her
eyes. Riker's voice before it was Jev's.
Troi shut her eyes, pressing forward until her lips brushed softly over his.
Shocked at her own movement, Deanna started. She pulled away and saw the blue of
Will's startled expression settle on hers.
Neither of them spoke when she kissed him again. This time harder. Leaning into
the strong warmth of his body, Deanna waited for the panic ... but nothing
intervened. The dull ache of it fell to the depths of some cavernous hole, muted
and dim as her body responded to his.
Continuing her contact, Troi settled her full weight on top of him. His large,
strong frame shifted below her on the floor and she felt nothing but warmth.
Nothing but joy ... until he lifted his hands.
The touch of his fingers on her arm drove a cold stab of fear back into her
heart. It forced the breath from her lungs and robbed her of every confidence
she'd gained. Frozen in terror, Deanna stiffened beneath his grasp.
"No.." she whispered hoarsely, the sound of her own voice barely
audible above the breath it took to speak. She wasn't sure that he had heard
her. Except his hands fell away in an instant.
With the departure of his touch, Deanna felt a searing stab of
self-recrimination fill Will's spirit. He extricated his body from their tangled
position -- mindful not to upset her balance -- and staggered from the floor,
onto his feet.
"Oh, god, I'm sorry." Riker looked away and shut his eyes. "I'm
so sorry."
She knew what he was thinking. Without reading his mind or hearing his thoughts,
Deanna knew that he was dying inside because he'd let things get that far --
after what she'd just told him.
She also knew that he wanted her. She sensed the depth of his feeling ... for
the first time in years. And she'd never felt more whole than in the moment he'd
finally kissed her back.
But he was horrified by what he'd done; backing slowly toward her door, even as
he spoke. She wanted him to stop. She wanted to say ... anything. But she was
mute. Captured by a sense of liquid panic, Deanna could only watch him leave.
And she'd hurt him so much she could barely feel her own pain for the stabbing
sense of his.
Another night. Alone with the dreams. She curled up into a ball and lay there
sobbing on the floor.
------------------------
Just Tell Me This
QDestinyy@aol.com
Part 9
------------------------
//Imzadi// ... //Have you stopped thinking about us? Just answer that.// ...
//Just answer that.//
Roused by a frigid vice around her heart, Deanna flew from her place on the
floor. She'd fallen asleep untold hours ago, and as her eyes adjusted to the
darkness of her cabin, her legs protested the hard surface of the broadloom
under her body.
Thrusting a fallen tumble of her hair from her eyes, she managed to sit.
"Computer, time?"
||| The time is 0350 hours |||
Exactly an hour earlier than it had been the other night. Troi's mind shifted
groggily into focus. This time, her sense of Will was peaceful. He was sleeping.
So it had been her own dream she had woken from.
Images of Jev still lingered in her conscious thoughts. But they were different
than before. Different, because as soon as they emerged, she'd started to
remember the way Will Riker kissed her that very same afternoon. The unassuming
strength of his body next to hers. And suddenly the likeness of Jev split
cleanly from the one she held of Will. She was able to separate them for the
first time in days. As she concentrated on everything about Will Riker that was
different from her Ullian attacker, she knew that they were two, no longer
merged.
Pushing herself onto her feet, Deanna made her way to her bedroom and slipped
her uniform from her body. It was cold in the room. The sudden breath of air on
her skin made her feel vulnerable. Glancing from her bed to the door of her
bathroom, Troi suddenly turned.
She moved into the small adjoining suite and turned the water on as hot as she
could stand it. Then she stepped inside. Standing beneath the steady stream of
warmth, she washed the feeling of the Ullian's hands from her body.
She pulled the soap across her skin and rubbed her flesh as though the motion
could clear her mind of his presence ... but the tears continued to fall.
It was Jev she saw in her mind. Jev whose rough hands held her down to the
ground. And Jev who forced his body inside hers.
Howling with rage and revulsion, Deanna threw the tiny bar of soap against the
wall and heard it clatter apathetically to the floor. Her body sank down until
she joined it, crouching with her back against the wall and her knees against
her chest while a torrent of hot liquid spilled from her eyelashes.
-o-
By the time Troi emerged from the shower, it was nearly 0430. Her body dry and
her hair damp, she reached to her wardrobe for the garment she normally wore to
bed. But something stopped her. Her fingers brushed over a softer fabric and she
found herself taking it up into her hand.
It was Will's. From a long time ago. A t-shirt he loaned her before she ever
joined Starfleet. It was large and grey and ... she held it to her cheek ... it
smelled very faintly of the aftershave he used to wear. A flood of memories came
tumbling back. He hadn't worn that scent in years. Not since...
Pulling the soft cloth over her head, Deanna ran her hands over her waist and
smoothed the t-shirt down past her knees. She lay in her bed and stared at the
ceiling for a time, watching errant shadows play tag in the starlight. But sleep
would not come.
Finally she sat up. Glancing at her reflection only briefly in the mirror, Troi
stood and made her way from the room. The sound of her door swished obediently
behind her when she left her quarters.
------------------------
Just Tell Me This
QDestinyy@aol.com
Rated R (Adult Content)
Part 10
------------------------
Will Riker was asleep. He'd been asleep when she entered his quarters, quietly
accessing his suite with a code he'd never kept secret from her. And he was
asleep when she stood over his bed and looked down on him.
Waking him was out of the question. It wasn't what she wanted in any
event. Deanna's sense of him was strong, as it always was when he was near. But
even this close, it was clear that the depth of his rest had effectively cloaked
all consciousness. She knew from experience what that meant.
He would probably not wake up, even if she spoke. Possibly not if she shook him.
It would take a very loud noise indeed to shake his slumber. Either that, or a
three micron misalignment in the ship's
impulse engines. A faint smile touched the corners of her lips.
There were times when Will Riker could sleep through a war. But if the slightest
system was out of place on the Enterprise, he'd know.
Testing the strength of her newfound conviction, Deanna moved even closer. She
sat on the edge of his bed and, with his body turned to
face her, she placed her hand against his hair.
Nothing.
Well, almost nothing. Not the cold sense of panic she'd felt earlier
on. Not the claw of raw terror she'd once associated with his earness. This time
all she felt was warmth. A tenderness toward him she hadn't allowed herself to
feel for many years. A sense of peace swept over her. Whatever he was dreaming,
it was safe.
Allowing herself the luxury of a moment not filled with the horror of
Jev's assault, Troi lifted the coverlet and slipped beneath its offered warmth.
Here, she took advantage of a different memory. One which reminded her exactly
how to sneak into Will Riker's bed without him knowing.
Deanna slid gently backward; her shoulders brushed against his chest and she
sighed when Riker's arm automatically rounded her waist, pulling her toward him.
If this hadn't changed in so many years ... what else might have remained the
same?
Closing her eyes, the counselor sucked in a breath. The touch of Will's arms did
not frighten her the way it had. But her sense of anxiety had not completely
disappeared, either. Troi felt it like a knife in her throat, twisting, though
she refused to acknowledge the fear.
There was a step to be taken, only it wasn't hers to ask. It was a step that
could *not* be taken, though it might remain the only thing that would ever set
her free.
Deanna swallowed, willing herself to sleep. It was enough that she was near him
this way, and that she felt safe and protected. Still, for some reason, the
voice of Daniele Russo began to echo in her thoughts:
//I still can't// ... //I can't do what you're asking me to do// ... //I can't
go up there.// ... //can't go up there// ... //I still can't do what you're
asking me to do// .
//Yes, you can ... Daniele. You have it within you to command your own fate.
Embrace your fear and master it// ... //master it// ...
Strong arms encircled her body. Deanna felt Riker stir in his sleep,
still caught in the undercurrent of whatever dream he'd been having.
But the feeling of his hands, so familiar on her body, forced a paradox inside
her.
If she stayed the night like this, she might still be afraid in the morning.
Only a little afraid, but still more than she was willing to be. On the other
hand, if she did what her rational mind and her body both seemed to agree upon
for the moment ... things might never be the same again.
What if he felt differently? What if he didn't feel for her at all?
But he had wanted her this afternoon, she was sure of it. And when his large
hands held her face between them, he was feeling a lot more than lust...
Deanna curled inward, losing herself in the circle of Will's warm embrace.
Choices. All their lives they'd made choices. And now she lay in his bed,
desperate for the close comfort that only her trust in him could bring.
Except he didn't even know that she was here.
For all he knew, she could have been anyone; a figment of his dream or a remnant
of the past. For all she knew, he'd held every woman he slept with this way. And
the automatic way his arm fell over her waist was simply the way he responded
... regardless.
Even so it was familiar. It was Will. And he was Imzadi. And she hadn't let
herself feel anything even remotely close to this level of intimacy in a very
long time.
Drawing in one final breath, Deanna Troi turned in the arms that held her. For a
time, she examined Will's face. The line of his jaw and the dusty growth of
beard she'd always been curious about. Lifting her hand, she placed it fondly
against his cheek and she swallowed
when his head moved very slightly toward her touch.
She wanted more.
Dropping her arm, Troi traced the contour of the muscles in his chest, from his
collarbone to his abdomen. She heard him murmur in his sleep as she pulled her
body snug along side his. The sensation was electric. It drove whatever
discomfort she'd been feeling to the farthest recess of her mind and emboldened
her hand.
Deanna pressed her palm against his stomach, running her fingers over
the edge of the boxers he'd worn to bed. Still he slept. And how could she
possibly take advantage of him this way? It would be as wrong as anyone doing
the same to her. A sharp stab of guilt invaded her thoughts and she moved a
centimeter backward, ready to slip from his bed ... when he whispered her name.
It was soft. So soft she'd barely heard him. But she had. And for a moment she
wondered if he were really awake; might even have believed that were true,
except that her sense of him was still the same. Quiet. Lingering on the edge of
consciousness.
"Imzadi." his breath caressed her cheek and she closed her eyes,
drowning in the warm sensation.
He was dreaming of her, and she slid helplessly closer. Slipping her
hand beneath the cool silk at his waist, Deanna found him and curled her fingers
over the pliable heat of his flesh. His breathing increased, quickening to match
her heartbeat while she crawled on top of his body, sliding his shorts along his
legs.
It was painfully erotic; the sight of him this way. Not genuinely conscious,
calling her name from some place ... far away. Even more than that, she wanted
him to love her; to banish the hurt she was feeling forever and replace it with
*this*.
He was hard in her hand; hard against her body when she lowered her lips to
brush sweetly over his. A quiet groan and the pull of his arms around her slim
figure were the last things Will Riker did in his slumber.
Deanna straddled his waist and her hips rocked slowly against him; never quite
joined. Her tongue slid from her lips and she tasted his mouth as his eyes slid
languorously open.
He'd been sure it was a dream. She could see it in his gaze as she could see the
pulse of fervent realization when she didn't disappear. Warm, blue eyes widened
in shock and Riker looked about to speak, but she silenced him completely.
Laying forward on his body, Troi drew her fingers along his length between them.
She felt his automatic response; the way his eyes fell shut and his mouth
slipped open. She kissed him deeply; a series of slow, searching explorations
that shook the base of her spirit as it hadn't been touched in nearly a decade.
Deanna felt Will shudder beneath her; felt his mouth close over hers in a
rhythmic caress every time she pulled away.
Her heartbeat raced. Her hands were trembling. And she knew that he was still
not sure that any of this was real. With her head bowed and her long, dark hair
tickling the edge of his chest, Deanna slid backward, taking him wholly inside
of her.
Unbidden and unwelcome, the image of Jev she'd been dreading flashed briefly in
her mind. It sliced through her psyche and she fought to keep the impurity from
what she felt for Will. But it was ultimately Riker who banished the image for
her; replaced it when his hands moved slowly over the soft fabric of the t-shirt
she wore - sculpting the curve of her body with a reverence she could never have
imagined.
His blue eyes found her dark expression. And the feeling he offered in place of
the pain bathed every inch of her in brilliance, shattering the trauma of the
past few days.
"Ohh," Deanna sighed through parted lips, joining his body as a rhythm
flowed instinctively between them.
Despite his earlier boldness, Will's touch did not travel further. When she
opened her eyes, Troi could see him looking back at her; filled with passion -
unwilling to take what she was unwilling to give. "I love you!" her
eyes full of tears, she called out to him.
The force of her confession filled her soul, dripped fluid as ecstasy
between her spirit and his. But it wasn't enough. Deanna rocked against his
body, hearing his groan and needing his arms wrapped around her.
Lifting his shirt from her shoulders, Troi tossed it aside and allowed herself
to fall. The tumble to the bed was short and welcome. She felt his arms reach
out for her, and she sought his gentle thoughts on instinct. It was their way; a
ritual of the mind that she'd never been able to share with anyone else.
Though they had been together like this, countless other times when they'd made
love, Deanna felt Will tense. He'd felt her probe.
The question now remained, would he remember the way she did? Would he embrace
the bond, or had he forgotten after so many years?
Riker pulled her hard against him. His lips sealed over the warm heat of her
mouth as his body rose to cover hers. And his
thoughts ...
Abruptly she was with him, inside of him, flush against his larger frame and
cloaked within the circle of two powerful arms.
He remembered. Her head fell backward as she chanted his name aloud. He
remembered!
"Deanna--" his kisses were urgent and she knew that she was just as
close as he. "Oh ... God ..." his body tensed and she followed him
over the edge, clutching his shoulders so hard that the edge of her fingers dug
into his flesh. She screamed his name ... begged him not to stop and then
collapsed, still trembling in his arms.
Every movement thereafter was bittersweet torture. Their bodies still joined,
they held together for long moments in the wake of such a powerful union. And
Riker kissed her.
His lips brought hungry, needful plunder to her mouth. The kind of kisses she'd
never shared with anyone but him. And oh, gods he was so good at those...
Deanna nuzzled his neck, breathing in the musky reality of his presence. Trying
not to think of what they'd done with any more sense than when she'd started it.
Things might be different in the light of morning. They might go back. But for
right now, right here in Will Riker's arms, she was
well and truly saved.
"Are you real?" she heard him whisper; felt the low throaty rumble in
his chest that accompanied the sound.
"Do you want me to be?" Deanna turned in his arms and found his blue
eyes staring down at her. So filled with emotion; she'd never seen him like this
before. But then again, she'd never seen this Will Riker at all -- never felt
the love of a friend she'd served with so many years aboard the Enterprise.
"Yes," he buried his face against her hair, "God, yes."
"Then I'm real," she hugged him back. "As real as you are."
"As real as this memory." His sharp gaze flashed and he kissed her
long and hard.
"Thank you," Troi whispered so quietly she was sure he hadn't heard
her. But he had.
Riker lifted his hand and drew it gently across her cheek. His shoulders rose
and fell as he answered with three simple words. "I love you."