"Precious Metal"
By:  QDestinyy@aol.com
Note:  This exercise is rated PG-13.  Pure fluff.  No purpose.  No plot.  It's not particularly well written, either, and I know that.  But since it 'exists' in any form,  I might as well share it with the Imzadi fans anyway.  Fluff is fluff, after all.  Please excuse the mess... :-)



"Will, it's so beautiful...where did you find it?" 

"I um, had it made actually.  I was hoping you'd like it," Riker cleared his throat self-consciously.  "Happy birthday Deanna."

"Oh gods, I love it," Deanna's eyes shone as she lifted the delicate chain between her fingers.  Its flawless craftsmanship glimmered in the muted light of her cabin while she examined every turn of the sequence with reverent care.  "This must have cost a fortune," her gaze lifted.  "You shouldn't have done this..."

Riker smiled, more thrilled at her pleasure than he knew how to articulate.  "I wanted to," he shrugged with as much casualness as he was able to manufacture.  "I saw something like it in this little shop on Risa.  It just seemed like something you might wear," he paused and then spoke up his most practised 'official' voice, "off duty, of course, Counselor."

"Of course, Commander."   Holding her treasure aloft, Deanna grinned playfully, extending her arm.  "Would you?"

"Oh.  Sure," Riker took the necklace from her hands and held it carefully, brushing the fall of her long, dark hair aside.  When he'd fastened the chain at the nape of her neck, he felt his heart beat race.  His fingertips lingered at the apex of her spine and he felt her body shiver when he slowly removed his hand. 

The moment was broken when Deanna turned to him for inspection, but he promptly found he'd lost himself in the fathomless darkness of her expression.   "You look stunning," he whispered.

"You always made me feel so beautiful."  Deanna shook her head; eyes bright with glassy moisture.

"You are so beautiful, Deanna.  More beautiful than a Betazed sunrise."  He smiled at the rise of color that stole into her features, touching her face with the back of his hand.

With a quiet exhale, Deanna placed her palm across the chain at her heart.  She glanced away for an instant.  But when she looked up at him again, Riker saw what he knew all too well was an expression of nervous unease. 

"It's late.  I... should go," she whispered, "I have the bridge in a few hours."

Staring back at her, Will took in every nuance; every curve of her face and the way the cabin-light danced in the centre of her luminous eyes.  "There's only one problem with that plan," he answered softly.   Somehow his body had come forward of its own accord.  His breath caressed the edge of her cheek and Deanna shut her eyes.

"A problem?" she managed thinly.  Only a column of charged air was left to separate the tender warmth of her lips from his, but still she hadn't moved.

He drew his fingertip along the edge of her cheek and smiled.  "These are your quarters."

When her eyes flew open and realization dawned, Deanna's lip curled into a smirk; a gamine smirk that soon transformed into the sound of helpless laughter.  "That's true," she shook her head, "these are my quarters, aren't they?"

Though he could feel her tension gone, Will sobered and glanced at the door.  "You're right though.  I should go.  It is getting late."  He turned and offered her one last crooked grin.  "It's been a busy day, for both of us.  I just... didn't want you to think that I'd forgotten."

Gliding forward, Deanna placed her lips at the edge of his cheek and lingered there.  "You're a wonderful friend," she murmured, warm against his skin.  "Thank you."  And then she pulled away and offered him a brand new, dizzying smile.  "I love the necklace, Will.  But even more than that," she took and held his hand, "I love that you came. No matter how late."

"Always."  Standing stiffly in the stopgap between her quarters and the hall; Riker finally released her hand.  "Goodnight, Deanna."

"Goodnight," she stood immobile as the door slid shut.  And for a time, she even watched the shadows dance in delicate patterns on the wall.  Before she sighed and softly added, "sweet dreams... Imzadi."





Riker's head fell back against the bulkhead in the corridor and he leaned heavily on the wall. 

"Someday," he whispered grimly to himself, "I won't be such a coward."  Rolling himself backward off the cool titanium barrier, he slipped quietly into his own quarters--through the doorway next to hers.



*

"Number One," Picard rose benevolently from his chair, "you have the bridge."  

He took his leave without another word.  Entering his ready-room, ostensibly to think.  But then, he was the Captain, and they were headed back to Starbase for a consult, so he doubtless had had his own reports to file. 

Riker stood and took the centre seat as ordered.  It was quiet on the bridge and he found himself surveying all the crew.  Data working at the CON.  Worf behind them, task at ops.  He saw an ensign in another chair at the helm and knew without turning that there were two more officers at science stations in behind.  A full bridge compliment, for a routine shift.  But they'd be arriving soon at Starbase McKinley, and somehow it looked good to have the crew at stations just before they docked.

Riker sighed and glanced sidelong at Troi.   It wasn't something practised or planned out, the way he turned to meet her eyes.   Just something that he'd done for many years.  Something that anchored him when she would look his way and share whatever moment he was feeling.  Something he needed, even now, in the midst of an exercise this 'mundane'. 

Deanna sat quietly at her station; engrossed in something scrolling through her console.  He saw her concentration in the familiar tilt of her head and he was just about to smile when he noticed a glimmer of light.  Or rather the hint of a glimmer, reflecting off a delicate chain beneath her uniform.

It wasn't strictly regulation.  In fact, if she were any 'ensign' caught at such an attempt, she'd probably have been chastised by a superior officer.  An officer such as himself.  But since the necklace hardly showed, and since it flooded Riker's spirit with a sharp, irrational thrill; a joy that she would dare to wear it so openly.  He thought he'd let it slide--opting not to disturb her work at all--until Deanna looked up from her console, found him watching her, and smiled.

They were on duty, side by side on the bridge, but it was always like this.  A look, a smile, a shared expression.  In all the years they'd served together, there was always something unspoken; unsaid.  Deanna returned to her task without a word, but the smile she wore maintained.  And Riker thought with sudden certainty... she had to know.

"Counselor," he spoke professionally and watched her slowly lift her head. A question was apparent in her eyes, but he belayed it, speaking instead.   "I'd like a word with you in the observation lounge."

Riker stood from his chair.  "Mr. Data, you have the bridge." 

"Aye sir."  The android rose and took the chair that Will vacated.

When they were safe inside the conference suite, Deanna's smile became a frown. "Is something wrong?" she asked, unwilling to imagine that the only reason he had called them here was because he needed to see her... alone.

"Not exactly," Riker shrugged.  "And yes."

"I'm afraid you've lost me Will..."

"Don't say that Deanna," with his eyes intent on hers, he implored, "don't ever say that."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Dea, I love you."

"What?"

"I'm crazy, out of my head in love with you.  Deanna, I think I'm going insane..."

With her eyes so wide, Will had never seen them any larger, Troi moved slowly to the table and then stopped.  "I can sense that," her voice was quiet.  He loved her?

"And you have nothing to say?" he asked.

"Say?  Will, what's come over you?  For the love of the gods, we're in the middle of a bridge shift--"

"I know that!" he shot back, raking his fingers through his hair, "you think I don't know that?  God, I don't know why this is happening 'now', but I had to tell you.  I couldn't wait another minute."

Falling slowly into a chair, Deanna sighed.  "I need to sit down."

"You know I'm serious.  You can sense I'm telling the truth.  Can't you?  You know this is real...it's not a joke..."

Her head turned slightly and she uttered a low sound.  "I'm not laughing, am I?"

"No."  Riker held the back of another chair in his hands.  "You're not happy, either.  And how can you be so calm?"

"Calm?  Will," she shook her head, "this is a lot... to take in.  It's hard for me to believe that this is even happening!   And I don't think that this is either the time, or the place to even contemplate the sort of conversation that I can sense you want to have."

"But you WILL have it with me.  Sometime, right?" he looked into her eyes and she was powerless to look away.  "Sometime, Deanna?  Promise me you won't just brush this off.  Pretend it didn't happen like all the other times..."

"What other times?" Deanna clasped her trembling hands.  "Will, in all the years we've served together aboard this ship you've never once come forth and told me... anything even remotely close to what you're saying now.  I don't know what to think..."

"Then tell me what you FEEL," he dropped to one knee and caught her hand.  "Deanna, I have to know..."

She stared at him in silence, watching everything he'd said play out like emotional subtext on the features of his face.  And then she released his hand.   "You want to know what I feel?  All right, I'm ... confused.  Scared, a little."

Will shook his head.  "Of what?"

"Of you!  This isn't like you.  It isn't normal... I don't know how to--"

Her COMM badge suddenly bleeped.  <<Riker to Troi>>

Deanna glanced at Will in shock.

<<Riker to Troi.  Deanna?  Are you all right?>>

The room swam slowly out of focus.  With her eyes on the lights above the conference room, Deanna held out both her hands, grasping for balance.  She felt her body slowly fall, beyond any measure of her thought or control.  And then everything went... white.

[[The time is 23:35 hours]]

What?  Groaning softly, she placed a hand against her head.

[[The time is 23:36 hours.]]

23:36 hours?  The force of nourishing consciousness slammed headlong into her mind and Deanna sat up in bed.   'The bridge', she thought.  'I'm late!'

<<Riker to Troi.  Deanna, please respond.>>

Fumbling inadequately in the darkened space, she found the button she'd been seeking and tapped it forcefully.  "Troi here.  I'm sorry, I'll be there momentarily."

There was an instant of silence on the other end of the COMM before Will's sotto voice came back, relieved.  <<Are you all right?>>

"I'm fine, Commander.  I apologize."  Slipping deftly to her feet, Deanna quickly pulled her uniform from the chair she'd laid it out against.

<<No need, Counselor.  It's only five minutes.  It's just not like you to be late.  I thought I'd check.>>

"I'll be there in two minutes."

<<Acknowledged.  See you then.>>

"Troi out."   Releasing a quiet breath, she found the fastener for her uniform top and closed it neatly from behind.  

It was then she felt the chain shift listlessly against her skin.  Her fingers brushed its surface and she paused for only an instant before tucking it beneath the collar of her shirt.  That part was real.  But the rest of it...

'A dream'.  Her last thought echoed as she left her darkened quarters for the shining Enterprise corridor beyond.  'Nothing more than a fantasy come strangely to life'.  Deanna sighed and shook her head.  She didn't know whether the racing of her heartbeat was from relief... or from an odd, unspoken regret.


*

"I'm sorry I'm late," Deanna eyed the skeleton crew as she entered the bridge.  Will wasn't supposed to be on duty but since she wasn't there on time, she knew he'd taken over briefly.

"No need to apologize," he smiled at her.  It was a brilliant, genuine smile.  The kind that meant 'no harm, no foul', and Deanna couldn't help but return it in kind.

"Thank you," she whispered quietly when they were the only ones in proximity to hear.  "I'm not sure how I missed the computer's prompt, but when you called on me, it was a bit of a shock."

"I can imagine," Riker's eyebrow rose.  "Sometime soon I'll have to tell you about the time I was two hours late for the morning shift," he answered softly, "the Captain didn't even bother paging me.  It was three months after we'd been stationed aboard the Enterprise and I guess he thought it would be more embarrassing if he just 'allowed' me to arrive a hundred and twenty minutes into my shift.  He didn't say a word when I got in.  Just glanced at me and left the moment I stepped down the ramp.  God I still remember the way I felt..."

Deanna blushed.  "Well, thank you for not doing that to me," she sighed, "I'm never late."

"Guess there's a first time for everything," he regarded her seriously and then asked, "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yes Commander," she scowled good-naturedly, "I'm fine.  But you're not fine.  You need to rest.  As I recall, you've taken two shifts already, and been up most of the night on top of that."

"Ah, it was worth it.  Your birthday only comes around once a year."  Riker's glance fell to her neck and Deanna could see that he had noticed she was still wearing the chain.   His blue eyes filled with sparkling light and the smile he wore grew larger. 

To the rest of the crew, it probably looked as though they were having nothing more than a friendly, 'professional' communication.  But like a physical touch between them, Deanna could feel the satisfaction in Will's heart.

"I'll see you tomorrow?  For dinner?" he spoke so only she could hear.

She smiled.  "I think my schedule's free."

"Great," he winked.  Then cleared his throat and offered loudly, "you have the bridge, Commander," before he turned promptly and ascended the ramp.

Deanna watched him go.  The last thing that she saw as the turbo-lift doors closed on Riker's presence was the image of him looking back at her.  Still smiling when the entry shut and sent him on his way.



*

"Come!"  The door to Riker's quarters slid aside and the smell of something wonderful assailed Deanna's senses. 

"Am I early?" she asked, entering and cautiously surveying the suite. 

"Not a bit!" Riker called from the other side of the room.  He emerged an instant later.  But instead of the delicious smelling concoction that Deanna assumed he must have been tending to, he was carrying a small stack of data PADDs instead.   "I hope you don't mind," he cringed, "I didn't have time to 'cook' this evening, so I replicated."  His rueful grin spoke louder than any verbal apology could have. 

Deanna beamed.  The truth was that she didn't mind a bit.  Despite Will's wonderful record in the kitchen, she had never truly come over 'for the food'.   "You don't always have to cook for me, you know.  I never cook for you..."

"Yeah, well, there's a difference.  I CAN cook..."

She picked up a pillow and threw it at him.

"I'm sorry!" he laughed as he deftly dodged the assault.  "I meant 'I LIKE to cook'.  How's that?"

"Somewhat better," she replied, but she was smiling just the same.  "It smells delicious... whatever it is."

"Our weekly dinners have turned into a bit of a ritual, haven't they?"   Tossing the comment over his shoulder, Will stopped at the replicator and set the dataPADDs down.  "All these years... week after week..."

Regarding him solicitously, Deanna paused, "If this isn't a good time, Will, we can always reschedule...I don't mind at all."

"No, that's not what I meant," he gathered the tray from the computer, "I was thinking, it's nice, isn't it?  Every Thursday, no matter the harrows of the week or the day, I always know that I'll be seeing you in the evening, and I look forward to it."

Deanna smiled and made herself at home on his expansive couch.  "So do I."

"Well see?  That's what I mean," Riker arrived with their food and set it on an adjacent table. 

Watching his back as he went to retrieve the dataPADDs, she took a moment to stretch the weary limbs in her body.  Deanna set her head on a pillow and sighed.  "Gods, it feels so good to lay down."

"If you'd rather just rest for a while, we can eat a bit later," Will took the chair opposite her and grinned when she closed her eyes.

"No, just give me a minute," her body began to relax.  "How did you sleep?" she asked after only a moment's quiet.

"Terrific."

"Well, at least one of us did."  Deanna slowly sat up and smoothed the front of her blouse.  "Okay," she smiled, "I think I'm ready now."

"Yes," Riker agreed, looking her over with appreciative thoroughness, "but ready for what?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Deanna, you might want to kill me, but I actually had an ulterior motive for being 'happy to see you' tonight."

Squaring her shoulders, Troi found herself suddenly tense.  'He's not going to do what I think he is, is he?'  Her mind focussed sharply and she wondered why her sense of him was so unclear.  Perhaps because her heart was beating more quickly than it should have been, and her pulse was racing after it at a speed that felt like warp.

"Will, I--" she began, and he looked at her quizzically when she trailed off.

"If you're too tired, don't worry about it," he spoke again when she hadn't said another word.  "I was sort of hoping you could help me out with a problem."  His eyes fell on the dataPADDs now sitting on the table between them and Deanna released an audible breath.

"Oh," her heartbeat slowed dramatically, "Oh, I--  Sure.  I'll try to help.  What is it?"

"You looked worried for a second there," he smirked, "what did you think I was going to say?"

Waving a dismissive hand, she shrugged.  "Oh nothing, really.  It was nothing."

"Okay," Will scooped up one of the PADDs.  "I know that we agreed on crew promotions early last week.  The Captain has the new list of personnel, but there are four outstanding cases I still need to assign.  I could do it myself, but frankly, one of the four lieutenants has a family on board ship.  Two kids, eleven and nine.  And I'm not sure whether receiving a promotion to a job that might take seventeen hours a day would be such a good idea."

Nodding thoughtfully, Deanna took the PADD from Riker's hands.  "Well," she said, "did he put in for the promotion?"

"That's just the thing.  It's not a he, it's a she.  And she did put in for it.  She requested the spot herself.  She's more than qualified.  But..."

"I understand," Deanna murmured softly.  "It is a little strange that a mother would want to be away from her children that many hours a day."

"I was thinking..."

"You'd like me to talk to her," she lifted her head and met his eyes.

"That's twice now you've finished my thought for me," he grinned, "but yeah.  That's the general idea."

Scanning the PADD for one last instant, Troi nodded.  "All right.  I think I should talk with her as well.  I'll set something up in the morning."

"Great.  If everything's okay, and she still wants the spot, I'd have no problem giving it to her."

Deanna suddenly smiled.  "You know, in six years working with you on the Enterprise, I don't remember you ever agonizing over a promotion for this reason before.  You've always been so cut and dry."

"Yeah, well," he shrugged self-consciously, "I guess I'm getting soft in my old age."

"Old age," she laughed, setting the PADD back down and pulling her legs up onto the pillows by her side.  "If you're getting old, Commander, that means that I am as well, and I refuse to discuss that possibility."

"Deanna," Riker slid from his chair and sat next to her on the couch, "you'll never be old."

"No," she deadpanned, "of course not."

"Not to me," he countered sincerely, "to me, you'll always be that beautiful girl I met on Risa all those years ago."  At her incredulous look, he amended, "oops, I meant Rigel.... or was it Betazed?  I can never keep them all straight..."

Another pillow rose and landed squarely on his chest.  "Ow," he frowned convincingly.  "you cruel woman.  Beating up on an old man like that..."

"Did you make dinner?  Or did you just call me in here to pick on me, tonight?"

Riker grinned.  "There's dinner, there's dinner.  I promise."  Lifting the casserole cover, he presented her with a beautiful dish she recognized immediately.

"Will, that's my favorite!"

"I know," he filled her plate with an exotic array of vegetables and handed it over.  "As well as I pride my skill in the kitchen, I'm still not very good at Betazed cuisine.  I thought this would be safer.  Maybe someday..."

"This is perfect!" she beamed, taking a mouthful off her fork and savouring it.  "It's delicious..."

"Well then, I guess I'm out of the dog house?"

Deanna furrowed her brow and scowled at him for as long as she was able to before her mood dissolved into laughter.  "It's not fair," she shook her head, setting the plate down onto the table. "You know all of my weaknesses."

Riker opened his mouth to tease her, but suddenly stopped.  "You're wearing the necklace..." he let his eyes wander over the curve of her neck where the off-the-shoulder blouse she wore set the delicate chain on display against her glowing skin.

"I never actually took it off," Deanna smiled at his enchantment.  "I meant it when I said I loved it, Will. It's beautiful."

"I want to show you something," he leaned toward her, and for an instant, Deanna's heartbeat all but stopped.  His hands moved gently over her shoulders, exposing the back of her neck while he unclasped the precious cargo and lifted it free.  "I know the links are small, but if you look down, very closely..." he trailed off.

Deanna set her eyes on the sparkling chain and lifted it carefully into her hand.  She turned it over with reverent care, peering at the tiny intricate detail until her mouth fell open and she gasped. 

There, in miniature--so as almost to be invisible to the naked eye--was a series of links made entirely of Betazed script.  Each letter flowed with elegant deportment into the next, spelling out words of spiritual significance like an artefact from another era.  It formed a chain of exquisite craftsmanship, forged in latinum, at the very centre of which was the unmistakeable word:  'Imzadi.'

Before she'd even realized what was happening, Deanna threw her arms around Will's neck.  She hugged him fiercely while she clutched her precious cargo in her hand. "It's the most beautiful necklace I've ever seen," she whispered, refusing to release him, even when he moved beneath her arms. 

"Oh well, I uh, I told you," he mumbled against her hair, "I think I'm getting mushy in my old age."

"I love you, Will," she blurted quietly. 

What had she said? 

Eyes suddenly wide against the nape of his neck, Deanna froze against him and her heart began to race all over again.  Unfortunately, she only had a moment to wonder how he'd taken her remark, before his answer arrived in kind.

"I love you too, Deanna."  Will tightened his arms around her.  But she knew in an instant that it was only a familial hug.  The kind borne of friendship and caring--which was all he'd thought she meant. 

Closing her eyes once more, Deanna melted against him.   It didn't matter what he'd truly meant, or how her words came out.  If only for the span of a single, beautiful moment, she allowed herself to pretend...

Riker sighed.  She could sense his reluctance to end their embrace just as keenly as her own, but it was he who finally pulled away. 

"I really hate to do this," he smiled at her fondly, "but I think if I don't have these last three personnel reviews done for the morning shift, the Captain will see fit to appoint himself a new First Officer..."

"I understand," Deanna smiled back ruefully.

"You always do," he took her hand and pressed it to his lips.

"Did you want me to help?"  Sitting up squarely, she faced him on the couch.  "Or would it be better if I left you alone?"

"God I'd love the company if you stayed..." Will grinned at her bemused expression, then looked away, "but I think under the circumstances, I'd better just slog through this on my own.  I really appreciate your assistance with Lieutenant Neayr."

"Of course," Deanna tried not to allow her disappointment to show.  It was just another Thursday evening with Will, after all.  They had those every week, and every week they came to an end only to begin again the next.   "I'm a little tired anyway," she shrugged, "I think I'll just retire for the evening then."

"Deanna--" Riker caught her arm as she rose from the couch.  He stood with her, face to face in front of the door.  "Thanks for coming.  I'm sorry I had to cut things so short tonight.  I'll make it up to you next week, all right?"

She nodded mutely.  "It's not a problem Will.  Good luck with those," she threw a pointed look at the PADDs on the chair.  "Sounds like you're going to need it."

"Thanks," he smiled.  "Goodnight, Deanna."

"Goodnight," she paused before she left his quarters and quietly threaded the chain back up behind her hair, fastening it in back.   "And thank you... for the most wonderful birthday present I've ever received."

"You're welcome--" He leaned toward her and laid his lips on the edge of her cheek, lingering for an instant.  "--Imzadi"

Deanna felt a shiver travel like lightening along her spine.  "Goodnight," she whispered softly against his ear, realizing she'd said the word already, but hoping--somehow--to make the moment last a little longer.

Riker slowly pulled away again.  But she could see his eyes had darkened from the moment he'd taken her into his arms.  "I'll see you tomorrow," he acknowledged, still unwilling to look away.

Without thinking, Deanna pressed the door mechanism and felt it slide aside.  "Why don't I cook you dinner, tomorrow night?" she asked.  But an instant later, she recalled they never met on Fridays.  Because Friday night was poker night, and under normal circumstances--circumstances when she wasn't feeling like a moony-eyed school girl for the first time in years--she would have known that very well.  The words had already left her lips, however, and Riker was looking down at her seriously.

"You? Cook?" his lip curled up at the edges.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and offered him a tolerant glare, "All right, fine, replicate.  But I forgot, it's poker night anyway.  We'll have do it another--"

"Okay," he answered unexpectedly, cutting off the rest of her sentence mid-thought. 

Deanna's eyebrow rose.  "What about poker?  The others--"

"Can meet up anywhere else.  Doesn't have to be my quarters," he reasoned logically. "You and I can have dinner.  We can talk a little bit.  We haven't really had a chance to talk in a little while.  What's one night of cards, anyway?"

"I guess that's true..." Deanna answered slowly, weighing what she felt of his myriad emotions with what she knew of Will Riker's virtual 'lust' for the game he was suddenly giving up. 

It wasn't like her to feel this way.  To need to be with him as much as she realized she did.  But then again, it wasn't like him to give up a poker night either.  Not unless he was ill, or away on duty.  In fact, a great many of the emotions she had sensed from Will over the past several months had been 'different' than usual. 

His very presence was less focussed and ambitious.  More content.  Self-satisfied.  His feelings were... centered.  Was that the appropriate word to describe them?  Yes, definitely centered.  And she found that she had begun to enjoy his company even more than she ever had before.  If that were possible.

Perhaps he had changed over the years and she had only now begun to realize how much.  Then again, perhaps they both had changed...

"Tomorrow then," Deanna nodded.  "My quarters, 1900 hours?"

"Ms. Troi, you have yourself a date," he winked and flashed her a radiant smile.

'What am I doing?'  With a quiet acknowledgement, Deanna swallowed the armada of butterflies in her chest and turned away from him, walking slowly into the corridor.  The entry to her quarters closed behind her and she shut her eyes, leaning heavily against the metal for support.



*

Dinner was quite a bit later than Deanna had originally planned.  Duties on the bridge had kept Will occupied with the Captain until nearly 2200 hours, and with her own responsibilities as Counselor, she'd been forced to work a fair bit longer than she usually did as well. 

All in all, the day had seemed interminable.  And though it had finally come to a close, it was well into ship's night when Deanna finally returned to her quarters; 2200 hours when she heard the entry-chime sound at her door.

"Come in," she called, making her way from the bedroom, dressed for the evening, save for the towel she was working through a tumble of still-damp hair.

"Deanna--" A concerned Will Riker peered inside her quarters, bent slightly at the waist.  "I came to ask you if you wanted to postpone..." he stopped mid-sentence, smiling widely when she stood before him.

"What?" she asked, perplexed at his sudden amusement.

"Oh, it's nothing," he shrugged, "it's just I haven't seen you like that...wet hair... in a while."  Riker indicated the towel in her hand.

"Oh," she smiled self-consciously.  "I just got back from my office.  It was the quickest way to unwind.  I'll go and--"

"No!" Riker cut in quickly, "I mean, it's all right, you look great," he paused, "besides, it's later than we'd thought.  You probably aren't interested in having dinner right now anyway..."

"Will, wait--" she caught his arm before he turned.  "It is a little late for dinner, but maybe ... we could have dessert?"

"Dessert? He grinned. 

Deanna nodded gamely.  "I always have something sweet on hand... you know, in case of emergency?"

"Of course." he laughed and shook his head.  "I remember..."

She thinned her lips.  "I'm sure you do.  Anyway, I could make us something, if you'd like?"

"Sure," Will stood up straight and let the door slide shut behind him.  "that sounds great."

"All right then, any preference?"

"With you?" he laughed, "it has to be something chocolate."

"Well duh," Deanna grinned, "besides that."

"Honestly, anything would be fine..."

"You know," Troi threw over her shoulder on the way to the replicator, "I never understood why you couldn't savour the simple joy of the many variations of chocolate there are to sample..."

"Ah," Will nodded solemnly, "I try to leave that to the experts.  When it comes to chocolate, I'm little more than an amateur among adepts."

"Touche, Commander," Deanna returned with a pair of dishes and a breathtaking smile.  She handed him a bowl and gestured at her couch.  "Take a load off, Will.  It's late."

He did.

*

Less than an hour into the evening, Deanna set her dish aside and propped her head on a hand.  Will had been talking for nearly twenty minutes about a mishap on the bridge that had caused them all to work four extra hours after shift.  It wasn't so much 'what' he said as 'how' he said it, but she found herself wondering why she'd ever been nervous about the evening to begin with.  He was her best friend, after all.  And there was no one in the universe she felt more comfortable being around.  She'd been silly to think this night would go otherwise.  Or to second-guess her thoughts.  It was her and Will.  The way it always had been.  And there was nothing to be anxious about...

"Deanna?  Are you in there?"

"What?" she shook her head at his amused expression.  "I'm sorry, was I being rude?"

"Nah," he grinned, "I was being BORING.  You have to tell me these things you know, I can go on forever..."

"That's true," she threw him a playful smile which he exchanged for a feigned expression of injury.   "Honestly, Will, it was me this time.  My mind was wandering.  I apologize."

"Really?" he sat up straight and regarded her critically, "Well then you're just going to have to tell me where you went.  Because it sounds like it was a heck of a lot more interesting than what we've done all day!"

Deanna blushed and swatted his arm.  "It was nothing too far away, really.  I was just thinking about you and I.  About our friendship."

"Our friendship," Riker mused, "that sounds like a nice place to visit."

"It was," Deanna smiled.

"Anything specific?"

"No, not really," she picked at an imaginary wrinkle on her pants, "I was just thinking.  That's all.  Thinking in general."  Lifting her head, Deanna met Will's eyes and held his gaze.

When the moment began to charge, he quietly cleared his throat.  "Thinking huh.  I bet I know what you were thinking.  You were thinking... you can't for the life of you figure out how you ever dated anyone this boring..."

Deanna laughed.  "No, that's not what I was thinking."

"All right," he furrowed his brow, "thinking... when did he get this OLD?"

She shook her head, still grinning, "Nope.  That's two for two, Commander.  Care to go for three?"

"I knew I should have taken those telepathy courses your mother was offering..." Riker kept his eyes on hers but his countenance suddenly changed.  The sparkle of mirth in his expression vanished and he sighed.  "Thinking... why hasn't he told me what I can sense he's been feeling for a very long time."

Deanna sat back heavily in her chair.

"It's not easy, Deanna."

"What's not?" she crossed her arms over her chest, uncertain how a warm and playful conversation had suddenly grown so dangerous in tone.

"I know that you're an empath," Will went on, "I know that you know how I feel.  But that doesn't make it any easier."

"Will, I'm not sure I even understand where this is--"

"Coming from?  Yeah you do," he smiled sympathetically, "but in your own way, you've been doing just what I have.  We both keep thinking... maybe if we deny it long enough, it'll go away.  Maybe if we call it 'friends', it won't matter how we feel.  Well," he spread his hands and held them aloft.  "It matters, Deanna.  And I promised myself I wouldn't be a coward about this anymore."

"We ARE friends," she countered softly, shrugging back into the cushions where she sat.

Riker's laughter was low.  He stood and walked unhurriedly toward her.  "We're more than friends."  Reaching for her arm, he pulled her gently to her feet.  "Deanna," he began again, drawing his hand up from the edge of her bare shoulder to the side of her neck where the delicate chain lay exposed.  "This is more than friends..."   His face moved closer; within a heartbeat of her skin.  "I want to touch you, Dea... I want to kiss you, more than my next breath." 

Pressing her hands against the front of his chest, Deanna's eyes filled with silent tears, but she demurred.  "This can't happen to us Will, it isn't in our future here."

"I don't know what the future holds, Deanna.  None of us do.  I don't know where we'll go or how old we'll get to be.  But this..." his lips brushed tenderly over hers.  "This... is more than friends." 

The kiss was electric.  Long and sweet.  Powerful and captivating.  Deanna clung to Will religiously, but when their bodies broke for air, she lifted her hands and pushed him gently away; drawing a single, cleansing breath. 

He didn't follow.

"I had a dream last night," she confessed,  "a dream you woke me from."

He tipped his head, but she could see a familiar shade of worried recognition in his gaze.  He knew what she might say...

"In the dream, you pulled me aside from the bridge.  You took me into the observation lounge and you told me..." Deanna went on, "you said something very like this to me..."

Will took a step backward and froze.  "I was day-dreaming.  On the bridge... you couldn't possibly have heard that..."

"But I did."  She moved slowly toward him. "You said that you were crazy--"

Riker shut his eyes but the image remained.  He felt his mouth move over the words in sync with her voice. "--out of my head, in love--"

"--with me," she finished quietly. 

He opened his eyes again and stared at her.  Unblinking.  Unmoving.  Unwilling to admit that he was as terrified now as he'd been sure the moment before.  "I am," he finally whispered.

"But we're still senior officers," she countered softly.  "We're still serving together on the same ship..."

"You think that nothing's changed?  You're wrong, Deanna.  I've changed.  YOU have changed.  We're not the same two people we used to be anymore."

"Maybe not," she shook her head sadly," but the circumstances of our lives are not so different than they were six years ago."

"Please don't do this, Deanna.  Don't shut us out again.  It's taken me the better part of six years to finally realize... it doesn't have to hurt.  Not if we're together..."

Deanna slowed and pressed her palm against the side of his cheek.  "My heart is filled with you, Will Riker.  It will always be filled with you."  She caught the look in his eyes and when the hurt refused to bear itself in silence, she allowed the tears to fall.  "But even now, I can feel your apprehension at war with your desire.  Your love at war with your fear and your pride.  You're not certain this can work. Not any more than I am." 

"You think I have the monopoly on pride?"   Riker's breath caught in his throat.  His body ached in every place at once and his voice had all but gone when he replied.  "Deanna... the truth is, I'm not certain any of us are going to be alive tomorrow."

She cringed, but held her ground.

"--I'm not certain I'm going to watch another baseball game or see the sun come up over your beautiful house on Betazed.  But I am certain of one thing.  I'm certain--beyond any shadow of any doubt--that I'm completely in love with you.  And maybe... that's all I need to be.  Maybe that's all any of us can ever be."

"I want more than that!" she shot back sharply, through a halo of angry teardrops.  "I want to know that you'll be here tomorrow, Will.  I want to know you'll be alive!  I want to know you won't go off and ... take the universe on without me," her voice trailed off despondently.  "Unless I know that, how can I hand you my heart?"

"You already have..."  Will stared at her gravely, but she saw him swallow while he considered her words.  "Do you think that's arrogance on my part?  I can feel your heart, Deanna.  Every day, that feeling gets stronger.  Every year we serve together, it's grown more a part of my soul.  I understand that now.  I'm not afraid of it anymore.   Deanna," he took hold of her shoulders, "I'm tired.  I'm so tired of fighting it, day after day, when my heart--my entire life force-- is telling me that fighting this feeling is wrong."  Will dropped his head and shook it sardonically, "That necklace I had made for you," he glanced up at the sparkling treasure on her neck, "when I described it to the jeweller on Betazed, he wanted to throw me a party.  A party, Deanna!  Someone I didn't even know, and I had to ... explain ... to him that we weren't romantically involved.  That my 'Imzadi' was nothing more than my best friend.  Do you know what he said to me after that?"

Deanna stared at him mutely, hands clenched at her sides.

"Nothing!" Riker released an audible breath, "he laughed at me.  Sadly, I might add.  It seems that even he knew I was deluding myself.  And I'm not going to do it anymore.  Deanna even if you reject me now, tell me it's never going to happen or that it's been over for a very long time, it still wouldn't matter.  I'll spend the rest of my life in love with you anyway.  Because that's what 'Imzadi' is.  I finally understand that.  It's as much a part of me as you are--and I've accepted it.  I only wish you would as well..."

Turning away from him, Deanna drew her arms around her body and stood trembling in the center of her living room.  Riker watched her shoulders shake and he thought he might have begged her to let him take her into his arms and soothe the hurt away.  But when she turned around again, it was clear that that would never be an option.  Deanna held herself more tightly than before, and he could see new resolution in her eyes.

Lifting her hands, she unfastened the chain at her neck and whispered, "You're right. This necklace means more than simple friendship, Will.  I knew that when you gave it to me, and I knew it when I accepted it anyway and pretended otherwise.  But if it's honesty you want right now, then there's no more reason to pretend."

"Deanna--" Riker caught her hands and held them gently in his, "don't do this.  Please."

"You have to go..." she whispered brokenly.  "Please Will."  And when she turned away from him again, he realized he held the necklace in his hands.

"I can't..." he started toward her again, but Deanna's body went rigid. If he touched her now, he'd only make things worse.  "All right," he moved away, "I'll go if you ask.  But things can never be the same, Deanna." 

"I know that," she breathed.

When he reached her doorway, Riker paused.  She hadn't looked back at him, but he could feel the tears that filled her eyes; an echo for his own.  "I want more, Deanna.  And I can't serve with you here.  I can't be with you every day and know I'll never be able to touch you again.  I can't pretend that way anymore.  I won't."

Deanna said nothing, but she turned to face him slowly and the evidence of her sorrow drew a series of continuous pathways along her cheeks.   The slow nod that she offered in return was indescribable. "Goodnight 'Imzadi'..."    Her eyes slid shut.  Her head fell to her chest.

And Riker... walked quietly out her door.



*

It was very late when Deanna sat up in her bed with a start.   The lights in her cabin had long been off and the hum of the Enterprise's warp core pulsed unendingly from a place that seemed as distant as the stars.  She would have moved.  Except her head was filled with painful images and her spirit felt alone.  Her heart hurt.  More than she knew was possible.  Closing her eyes, she drew within herself and slowed her pulse.  Even her skin felt cold, despite the warmth of the blanket she had wrapped around her body.  She forced in several pulls of air before it felt as though she was even awake.

"Computer," she croaked in a soft voice, "quarter lights."  A soft, warm glow illuminated her bedroom, but if offered no comfort and Deanna fell back with a sigh.  'A dream..?.'  she slowly caught her breath.  'A nightmare.  But still only a dream...'.   Reflexively, her hand moved to her throat to touch the precious chain that hung there.  She held her fingers to her heart.

But the necklace was gone.

Frozen where she lay, Deanna opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling.  'Not a dream.'  She turned her head and buried her face in the softness of her pillow, but there was no solace to be found there either. Was she going crazy?  Mistaking dreams for reality and reality for a dream?  Laying curled up in her bed, shivering beneath a blanket in the heat of her comfortable quarters...alone.

'Will...'

Her heart did hurt.  It hurt with all the heaviness of a broken, tattered spirit.  And though it was neither 'strong' nor particularly independent of her, she allowed herself to cry. 

Again. 

How could she have let this happen?  Things were going so well...  They had their lives.  Their careers.  The most beautiful, wonderful friendship.  It was all they needed!  Wasn't it?

'Imzadi...' Deanna rolled onto her side and curled her legs behind her.

It all made sense before.  It was clear to her heart on the day she signed on board the Enterprise; reading his name off the crew manifest before she ever set down her own signature.  She knew that he would be here.  But she could handle that.   She'd handled it for almost six years now...

She could...

Be hurt.  More hurt than she had ever known.  A broken heart times one was solvable.  She'd made it through the first time.  She'd come out stronger than before.

Times two? It wasn't supposed to be like this!  When had she let her guard down?  When was it that she'd let him climb back in?  Oh gods, when had she fallen more deeply in love with him than she had ever been before...

'Imzadi....' she cried bitterly in the darkness.  Balling her hands into fists more out of anger than despair.  More fuelled by fury than frustration.   It was his fault!  For being... so wonderful a friend.  For blocking all the little ways she once knew she could guard her heart.  For emerging as a man that she not only loved, but dreamed of loving all those years ago.  He was all of that, now.   And suddenly she didn't care if she was 'weak' or less than perfect anymore.  If she was 'strong' or 'independent'.  The truth was, she felt nothing more than lost.  All her sense of him was gone, and she was all alone, at last.

The hand she held against her heart grew hot.    The problem was, it didn't matter.  She would go through all of this again.    Because what she needed from him was something William Riker couldn't possibly begin to give.  A commitment.  A solemn vow.  A future. 

More than anything, a future. 

But the future could be so powerfully cruel and unpredictable at times.  Hadn't he already promised her the first two?  Was it enough?   She'd only pushed him away because ... he couldn't give her the last of those vows.  The one that swore...forever.

'No,' she knew.  It would never be enough without forever.  And he couldn't.  Or he wouldn't.  Either way, it was all the same.   He was still Will Riker.  He could nearly make the universe spin in any direction that he chose.  It seemed to work for his career....  but never this.  He could take chances with his profession in a way he had never been willing to do in their romantic relationship.   He took 'Starfleet' risks and fought 'Starfleet' odds with every breath of his commission, and he'd put it all on the line in a heartbeat if he thought it would get him a seat in "The Chair".  He could do that, because he knew that it, at least, was right for him. 

And because...

Because...

Deanna sat up with a start.   'Because there isn't as much to lose...'    Hand on her heart, she slid her legs off the side of her bed and stood.  He took those risks because he knew... there wasn't anything in his career he knew he couldn't live without.

It was dark in the rest of her quarters.   Shadowy and silent and still.  But she didn't bother calling for the lights.  She was only in her living room for a second before the entry to her suite slid open and the glow from the corridor spilled raggedly inside. 

When she stopped before his door, Deanna froze.  She must have looked terrible.  Dressed for night, with her eyes red-rimmed from crying, and her hair --she was quite sure--sitting here and there, not nearly as perfect as it usually was.  Her hand moved to a tangle of loose curls just behind her neck and she looked straight at the titanium separation in his door. 

What difference did it make?  How she looked?  He might not see her anyway.  And even if he did...

She didn't press the chime.  She couldn't bring herself to probe his thoughts and he was missing from her senses.  Cut off wholly from the part of her that needed him inside.  Though her spirit wept, her eyes were dry this time.    Deanna placed her palm against his door and held it still.  "Will..." she whispered softly, "I'm so scared..." Taking a slow, deliberate breath, she drew her fingers toward the intercom.  She'd almost reached her mark... when the doorway slid aside.

Startled, she drew back.  It was dark in Riker's quarters but she could see the outline of his silhouette like a vague, familiar shadow in the door.   When he hadn't moved or spoken, she took a step toward him.  Moving slowly out of the hall, she crossed the threshold of his suite. 

The door slid shut behind her and a sense of dread crept down her spine.  It felt like she was trapped inside... alone.

There was nothing she could say.  Darkness overcame her senses, flooding her vision as she realized despite it all -- she could see him more clearly with every passing instant. 

He was haggard, and beautiful.  Dressed for bed, with slept on hair and glass-blue eyes that shone in the starlight from the portal near his head.  And he was looking at her strangely.  Unendingly.   But he said nothing when she bridged the space between them.   Standing near her--face to face--he didn't even move when she held up her arm and slowly, very lightly, traced the edge of his features with her hand. 

Deanna lost herself in the unfamiliar expression in his eyes.  In the way he seemed to study her as though they'd never met before.  For a long time, neither one of them moved.   But when her fingers slowly opened and her palm caressed his cheek, Will turned his face into her hand.  She crept toward him.  Standing so close, she could feel the heat of his chest against the delicate silk on her skin. 

Will took her hand from the edge of his face and held it.  He brushed her chin with the back of his fingertips and drew his thumb across a single, wayward tear.   Steadily, she leaned toward him, and he bent his head to hers, tracing the outline of her mouth with tender thoroughness.  He slid his hand behind her neck and drew her close.   With her breath between his lips, he held her still; caught in a moment Deanna could barely imagine.  But it was she who finally ended the stalemate.  Who captured his mouth, in a warm and wholly worshipful kiss.

'Will...'  She groaned and wrapped her arms around his neck.   His essence filled her heart.  His mind, when it re-opened, sent a waterfall of pure, uncensored feeling throughout all of her soul.  It hurt to breathe.  But it felt good... oh, gods, so like a dream when he could share that breath with her.  'Don't let me go...'  her thoughts caressed his spirit with the tenderness of a prayer.  

Riker's hands moved down her back toward her arms.  She felt his movement but she refused to let him go, making love to his lips until she felt him melt against her all over again.  There was something he wanted to say.  She knew that, but she didn't care right now.   For the moment, there was only this... only them.

Though his arms completely enveloped her, Deanna suddenly felt the press of Riker's palm against the edge of her hand.  Reflexively she opened her fingers, and a warm metal chain tumbled lightly inside.   One final, fearless time, she kissed him hard.  Then pulled away with a breathless gasp, looking up at him while he offered her a simple, affectionate smile.   She had to stop herself from grabbing hold of him again, so she took a cleansing breath instead. 

It was time to talk...

Releasing Will's hand, Deanna lifted her own.  She held the chain aloft, examining its features in the starlight.  And then she spoke inside his mind.    'I'm frightened, Will...'

"I understand that," he began, aloud.

"I want to be with you," she shook her head, "more than anything, I want to wear this again.  But only if it means that I can wear it forever."

"You can..."

"We can't just say that anymore."  Her hand closed firmly on its prize.  "It doesn't work to pretend.  Or make provisions.  We have to know with all our hearts that whatever we vow between ourselves tonight will endure.  That it will always be our hope...for the future.  Can we do that? Are you willing to do that?  No matter the consequence to your career--or mine?"  Her challenge laid bare, Deanna watched him consider in silence. 

Extracting the chain from between her fingers, Will allowed it to dangle through his grasp.  He looked from the darkness of Deanna's fathomless eyes, to the warm inviting skin on her neck and then back again, taking in the whole of her at once.  Her slightly tousled hair; the evidence of her teardrops and the perfect way her small hands felt inside of his.  He remembered it all; caught a glimpse of the future... and nothing changed.  He knew the answer to her question in his heart.

"Imzadi," he whispered finally. Resolutely. "Deanna, I know we can do this."   Emotion swelled within him.  There was nothing he could possibly say that might provide him with an adequate voice for the way that he felt, or for the promise he'd just made.  So he didn't even try.  Because it didn't matter anyway.  Whether fate had dealt him a stroke of fortune, or providence... or destiny had intervened... he had fallen in desperately love with an empath.   He didn't need to tell her 'why'. 

Without a single misspent word, Deanna shut her eyes.   She held her hand against her heart, but when she looked at him again, her expression was no longer troubled.   It was filled with elation.  Her dark eyes shone with longing... and perhaps, a tiny measure of apprehension as well.  But it was nothing significant--compared with how much more he knew she felt.

Taking reverent care of the treasure in his hand, Will draped the chain across her neck a final time.  He fastened the necklace gently; tracing its contour on the softness of her skin and he dropped his forehead when she brushed her cheek deliberatively against his.

"There's a part of you that's scared as well," she whispered softly in his ear.

Riker wrapped her in his arms and held her close.  "I know," he sighed.  "But I need you, Deanna.  I want to be with you. And that means more to me than any worry ever could."

She tucked her head beneath his chin and shut her eyes. "Then we'll be strong. Together."

"There she is..." he rocked her slowly back and forth.  "I knew I'd find her in there somewhere."

Deanna poked him playfully in the arm.  "Somehow," she threw him a coy look, "I don't think I'll ever look at poker night in quite the same way again."

He laughed.  "You know I was thinking about that."  Lifting a hand, he drew it gently through a tumble of her wayward hair. "One night alone each week seems so... unfulfilling.  Maybe we should get together on Monday and Tuesday as well?"

"What about Wednesday?" Deanna smiled.

"You're right.  Let's not leave out Saturday and Sunday, either..." 

"Do you think we'll get bored of each other?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "you're the Counselor.  Something tells me though, you might get tired of my cooking, first..."

"Something tells me," Deanna turned demurely in his arms, "that neither one of us is going to spend a lot of time in the kitchen for a while..."

"You think?" he grinned.

"I think."

"Wanna know what I think... 'Imzadi'?" Riker took her other hand in his, letting his eyes wander hungrily over every nuance of her lovely face, following it down to the delicate reminder she wore.  A treasure that proclaimed in precious lettering -- her spirit would always be linked with his.  

Deanna smiled and fingered the chain.  "I already know what you think...'Imzadi''"   

She answered his look of uncertainty with a deep and soulful kiss. 



[end]



(Well, if we're going to do fluff, lets do it right, huh?  Pure fanfiction indulgence... where else could a person get away with this? I must need more time off. ;-)