=A=

A wisp of course hair adjoining smooth skin tantalised her fingertips
as she traced the curve of his knee-melting smile. The sharp tang of
pine emanating from his aftershave drew her to snuggle in closer under
his dimpled chin.

She’d nearly lost him again. Down there. On that barren planet. Alone
with only her bond for company. But now he was back, and once more she
lay within the strong arms she so often sought; the ones she could
never give up. Ever.

But could she ever tell him that? Could she, Deanna Troi, give in to
her primal urges and admit that the Daughter of the daughter of the
fifth house had one huge crush on William Thomas Riker.

Oh what a name. A full barrelled delicious name to wrap around ones
tongue. But even his shortened moniker drew shivers across her soul.
Will.

Like a cool breeze across bared skin, his name drew goose bumps even
from her own mouth as he wooed her. Taunted her. Loved her.

Closing her eyes and drawing in another breath she settled quietly
sensing his slumbering emotions. The liquid tranquillity of his whole
drove her wild at times. Sometimes so familiar and yet distant. They
were joined, and had been one for many years now, though still
separate. And yet there was still so much she didn’t know about the old
man she trusted above all. Even over her father…

The sadness of past losses and missed chances still charred his psyche,
but he hid them well. Perhaps he even thought he’d hidden them from
her. Imzadi was not just a bonding of love and soul. It was a melding
of lives, a sharing of just what made one alive. Nothing could be truly
hidden, just masked.

But as time moved on, she peeled back layer upon layer and had finally
managed to reveal the core that made her heart beat. The one thing that
both he and Thomas both held in common. Himself. Pure. Naked. Gorgeous.

And this is what drove Deanna Troi wild.

His deep rhythmic breathing a relief to her soul. He was back, and hers
again. Beverly always joked that she was Deanna’s gravedigger. Bringing
him back from the grave time after time.

Sinking into what she knew as him, her mind sighed in relief as he
reached out to her unknowing, unaware that he was doing so. He was
comfortable, safe and free with her. Accepting her as if it was meant
to be. Her there. Inside, curled up with his neurons.

Embracing him physically, she pulled his arms in tighter. And gently
traced the small telltale scar of a previous mission. Something he’d
kept to remind him that he was alive. He’d told her and she, Deanna,
had accepted his reasoning.

But was she going to be this accepting anymore? No. Slipping into his
mind, deeper and more pronounced, he elicited a small groan of welcome.
His body slowly stirring as she grasped what was his core self and
stroked it till it hummed with full blown love and affection for her,
for life and for their future. Together.

He wasn’t hers, she wasn’t his. Imzadi had no plural, it was a meaning
of one. They were each other’s half and each other’s whole. They were
simply Imzadi.

And right now. That’s all that mattered to her. That and the small ring
he’d pledged his love to her. On bended knee, naked as her homeland
tradition called for, and still delirious from Beverly’s meds; his
heart true had called her bluff.

“Marry me” his voice had whispered, drawing her closer to hear his
words of passion and determination. He wasn’t going to give up so
easily this time. No dragons nor hounds could tear him away from his
princess this time. His words steady, his eyes alight with sky blue
giddiness, he’d urged her beyond speechlessness.

Smiling as she traced his liquid thoughts, she repeated her reply “My
love. My white knight. My Imzadi…I’m all yours.”

Only just the beginning ;-) 10/3/05