"Are you cold?" Riker's voice accompanied his hands atop Deanna's shoulders and she turned to face him, her body temporarily silhouetted by the light of the observation lounge's floor to ceiling portal.

"Not anymore," she offered a coy smile, collecting his fingers while her dark eyes lifted to meet his concerned expression.

"I thought I might find you here," he pressed.

"In the middle of the night, you mean?"

"You've been restless."

"Mm," Deanna sighed, turning away again. "I suppose."

Scooping a nearby chair away from its table, Riker straddled it backwards. "It doesn't seem to be getting any easier, does it?"

"No."

"I wish ... I wish I could make it easier. For both of us. I would if I could, you know--"

Deanna turned. "It's not easy, Will. There are some things that simply cannot be. That doesn't mean it's a bad 'thing' for us to go through."

"A difficult thing."

Deanna's wide black eyes fixed solemnly on him. "It isn't what you think."

"Isn't it?"

"I miss the others sometimes, more than anything."

He nodded, "Yeah, I know."

"--and I miss the Enterprise. It's not that I'm not happy here--"

"I know that too," his crooked smile was warm and disarming. Deanna returned it in kind.

"I love you, Riker. Do you know that as well?"

"Come here," he gestured her toward him and turned in his chair, taking her hand when she moved quietly within range. Riker pulled her into his lap and set his chin across the top of her dark, luxuriant hair. He shut his eyes. "Whenever I feel lost, or alone, I think of you."

"Me too." Leaning fondly against him, Deanna sighed.

"And it will get easier, Deanna. Eventually. We'll find a rhythm here as well."

They were quiet for a moment before she lifted her head. "Will?"

"Hm?"

"Do you ever think that maybe, what made it more bearable when we were first assigned on board the Enterprise--leaving our families and our older friends behind--was that we ran into each other there, again?"

Riker's smile grew wide, "Every day, Deanna. I know it was."

"Seeing you again was like... a piece of home for me," she went on, "as odd as that sounds. Considering a part of me was still very angry with you at the time."

"A part of you?" he laughed, "a part of you made plans to torture me horribly and jettison my lifeless body onto the first available moon."

"You read my personal logs?" Deanna gasped in feigned surprise before she dropped her nose to his, "Well, you know what they say, Captain... 'hell hath no fury...'"

Riker pulled her close and kissed her slowly; drowning in the sweet, familiar intoxication of their empathic connection. "I'm glad you got over that..." he whispered into her hair.

Deanna lifted an eyebrow, smirking cat-like in the semi-darkness. "How do you know this hasn't all been part of my diabolical master plan?"

"You are just full of idioms tonight, Counselor."

Allowing herself to be drawn in again, she settled back against his chest. "Has it really been a month already?"

Riker nodded sagely. "Amazing isn't it, how quickly time flies."

They were quiet after that, allowing their companionable silence to lull them, before Deanna spoke up unexpectedly. "You know, it's really too bad we can't sit like this on the bridge."

"Like this?" Riker blinked, glancing down at her; curled up contentedly on his lap.

"Mmhm," she affirmed, "I think I like it."

"Well--I guess I'll see what I can do about our seating arrangements then, Counselor. I'm sure my first officer won't mind moving over a little once we redesign the chair."

Deanna's throaty chuckle sent a ripple of fire across every nerve ending in Riker's body. "That's why I love you, Will. You always make me laugh."

His eyebrow rose, "that's the reason?"

"Yes." she nodded gamely.

"The only reason?"

"Well... that," Deanna leaned forward and laid her lips gently across his, "and you're great in bed..."

"As long as I don't make you laugh *while* we're in bed-- I think I can live with that," he grinned at her and she grinned back. "Weren't you working late tonight?" he finally asked.

She paused and looked aside. "I was."

"But--?"

"I canceled my appointments." Her thoughtful expression turned almost contrite. "...I was nostalgic for the Enterprise tonight, for some reason--a little lonely as well I suppose. I haven't seen you in nearly nine days, and--"

"You've seen me every day," he chided gently, "we sleep in the same quarters."

"I haven't *seen* you," she cut him off, emphasizing her point with a look, "--and I thought you might find me if I wandered in here."

"Mmm, taking advantage of a superior officer's concern like that..." the look of a Captain on Riker's face transformed to the look of a lover before he gathered her hand in his. "You know, Counselor, it just so happens, I have the whole night off..." Resuming his earlier attention on her lips, he followed a deliberate course toward her neck.

"Really?" she sighed when he bit down gently at the base of her ear, "I had no idea..."

This time, it was Riker's turn to chuckle. "I'm sure."

When his fingers found the fastening of her uniform top, Deanna suddenly demurred. "Are you positive this is such a good idea? I thought you were married..."

"My wife is working late tonight ... she'll never know." He cupped her face, usurping the opportunity to kiss her ardently.

Breathless and trembling--nearly two minutes later--Deanna finally replied: "A man who likes to live dangerously..."

"Always."

"Do you love her?"

The whisper of her breath; hot and sweet against his throat, was enough to make Riker shiver. He buried his face in her hair and nibbled the sensitive lobe of her ear before he murmured, "My wife? More than life..."

A quiet groan escaped Deanna's lips--proof positive for him that he was doing something right--in the instant she melted into his arms. "I've missed you so--"

"It's only been nine days," he managed, before she straddled his lap with a new and definitive purpose.

"Nine years is more like it," the sound of her voice dissolved into the sensation of thought when her spoken words became a kind of communication that only they could share. 'I need you, Imzadi...'

With a single, graceful motion, he lifted them both from the chair. Still holding Deanna solidly in his arms, Riker gently laid her back against the smooth, cool, conference room table.

"We should lock the door..." she gasped.

"At 0-400?" The jacket Deanna wore peeled inelegantly from her body and Riker went to work on the vest beneath it, "I think they make these things like this on purpose," he growled at the uncooperative fastening near her neck, "they're reinforcing the rules..."

"Funny. It's never stopped you before," she grinned at him impishly, but he faltered.

"I was never a Captain before..."

Watching as well as sensing the sudden shift in his mood, Deanna took his face between her palms and pleaded. "Will..."

"Imzadi, we can't." His posture straightened visibly and he took the hands she'd used and held them both. "Not like this."

Turning away from him dejectedly, Deanna slid quietly off of the table, gathering her fallen uniform jacket into her arms. "I have some paperwork I need to finish," she spoke without looking back. "I'll see you later tonight."

Riker held out a hand, "Deanna, wait..."

"It's all right, Will. I understand." She offered him a pallid smile. "You're a Captain now. You have an example to set, and the logical part of me *does* understand that. Honestly, I do--"

Her dark eyes shone in the light of the conference room and Riker's fingers curled into a fist as he exhaled. "God, I want you. It's making me crazy."

"Not just you..." Deanna sighed.

"Don't leave like this, Deanna," he implored.

"Like what?"

"Upset with me. Please don't."

"I'm not upset with you, Will," taking a single step toward him, she stopped. "I'm frustrated. I think we both are, to a certain extent. That's clear."

Raking his fingers backward through his hair, Riker approached her. "It's just not as simple as it used to be."

"I know that."

"But it should be, damn it!" he lifted a pair of sharp, nearly indigo eyes. "Either I was breaking the rules before and I shouldn't have been or--"

"You're afraid of taking the same risks now that you're a Captain." Deanna finished his sentence for him, but it made Riker no happier to hear it voiced.

"Not afraid," he countered.

"All right. Cautious." She offered him a crooked half-smile. "I do understand."

Realizing the truth of her words, Riker slowly began to pace. "I've never been cautious. Not in my whole life."

"You've never had the safety of an entire ship, an entire crew, resting squarely on your shoulders."

"I was the first officer of the Enterprise--"

"Your duty there was to the Captain. First and foremost. Now it's to your crew."

He stared blankly at her for a moment, then shook his head. "God, Deanna, why do you have to be so damned right all the time."

With a tilt of her head and a gamin expression, she shrugged. "Because that's *my* job, *Captain*. To put things into perspective for *you*."

"So now I get to see the side of you Picard saw. The one I sometimes wondered about. The one that disappeared behind that ready-room door..."

Deanna sighed. "In part. But whenever he turned into a raving lunatic, I didn't have to take him to bed with me at night."

Riker grinned.

"With you--" she continued.

"It'll always be different, I know." He came for her and gathered her into his arms without resistance. "I love you, Dea."

"I love you, too."

"I love you most of all for putting up with me."

"If that's an apology--" she mumbled, but the words were absorbed by the front of his chest where he'd crushed her to his body.

"It's not an apology, it's a vow." Releasing her slowly, Riker gently traced the edge of her cheek with his hand, "I'll make things up to you somehow. Soon. I promise. When I figure out who I am again--"

"I know," Deanna took a step and embraced him of her own accord, clinging to him fiercely, "I know you will." Sliding backward, she let her hands glide down his arms until their fingertips met, 'Imzadi...'

He heard her voice inside his thoughts again, and she coaxed him toward the conference room entrance, taking both of his hands into hers.

'This may not be an acceptable location for me to love my husband, but I know somewhere that is...'

The most beautiful smile illuminated her features and Riker let her lead him to the opening.

'Come home with me...' she implored; the resonance of her single thought merging passionately with his own.

He was outwardly quiet; inwardly filled with the heat of Deanna's most intimate empathic caress as he allowed let her to lead him through the long, deserted corridor. They went silently into the turbo-lift and she had not released his hands, even when her footsteps finally halted--just outside the door to their shared quarters.

"Deanna--" he stopped her with a single spoken word, though their cabin stood open before them. "I don't deserve you, do I?"

Without a verbal response, Deanna pulled him firmly inside, allowing the entry to shut. When they were finally and truly alone--only then--did she release his hands. They stood face to face.

"Maybe I don't deserve you," she whispered fondly. "Marriage is all about compromise, isn't it?"

"I guess we both come with our own short set of Quid Pro Quos, don't we?"

"I can live with that," her thoughtful voice became firm.

Riker took a cleansing breath. "Me too."

"Do you know what I love about *you*, Will?" she took a step forward and into his arms.

"What?"

"That you care enough to find me in the middle of the night when I've stepped away from my office without a reason."

Smiling, Riker squeezed her gently. "You want to know the truth?" he finally asked.

"Of course," Deanna looked up at him with wide, dark eyes.

"I missed you..." he kissed her nose, "and I thought maybe you might be feeling the same way; I was hoping you might be 'persuaded' to take the night off... "

"Oh really?" Troi placed her hands akimbo on her hips. "So all that nonsense about me 'taking advantage of a superior officer's concern' was--"

"Just a ploy," he confirmed. "I missed my wife," he smiled and then paused. "Is that a terrible weakness for the Captain of a Starfleet starship?"

Deanna caught his forthright expression and held it, "Well I'm not about to speak for Starfleet right now, that's for sure. But speaking strictly as your wife," her eyes lit up mischievously. "I think it's wonderful."

"You're right. The hell with Starfleet."

"Every once in a while..." she amended.

"Every once in a while," he agreed, lowering his head to hers so that their lips met and merged with a kind of fevered, desperate urgency. "We really are home, aren't we?" Riker groaned, almost pleading with her to agree with him; needing desperately to feel her acceptance as their bodies fell haphazardly into bed.

Tossing her jacket aside for a second and final time, Deanna's cherished presence enfolded him, caressing his thoughts with the full force of her undying affection for him. 'Yes, Imzadi...' she bore him gently backward against the pillows on their mattress. 'We're home...'

[end]