Yin and Yang
By Copper and Deede

Emails: coppersinger@yahoo.com and jaylee_g@yahoo.com (respectively)


“It's not peace I want, not mere contentment. It's boundless joy and
ecstasy.” ~ Kugell


Deanna Troi hadn’t come to the banquet expecting to be picked up, though
she certainly wasn’t doing anything to prevent it from occurring. But
the circumstances of the evening led to her wistful, less guarded
behavior. For the first time in ages she felt lightened and free, almost
to the point of feeling giddy, as the atmosphere of the party washing
over her weary soul like a cool, refreshing breeze. It was undeniably
relieving to be at a social gathering that didn’t require her ‘empathy’;
to dance, eat, drink, and be merry with her friends without the
stringent rules of Starfleet gatherings that were be present at any
other social event.

It also felt provocatively feminine to be in a cocktail dress and out of
the more rigid and confining Starfleet uniform that was her normal
attire. The crimson, body-hugging, satin of her gown caressing her skin
like the lightest touch of a feather as it rustled against her whenever
she moved, while her hair flowed freely down her back, unconfined, and
untamed. All in all she felt remarkably relaxed, which certainly played
its part in her allowing, and returning, the advances of one of the more
handsome science officers from a fellow Star Fleet vessel that was also
present at the party.

He flirted, she demurred, he made a witty statement, she replied with a
coy answer: the timeless dance of the renown mating ritual had began and
both parties were more than willing to engage in the mutually beneficial
schematics of it. She placed a manicured hand on his shoulder, secretly
delighting in the instant lust that appeared so blatantly in his gaze.
He drank the sight of her in hungrily, eyeing her as if she were a tall
glass of water in the midst of hot desert sand. He slowly, wolfishly,
placed a hand on her waste, eagerly watching her reaction, awaiting the
signal to see that she accepted this maneuver so he could take their
play one step further. She didn’t disappoint. Laughingly, she leaned in
closer, feeling delicious heat being generated between their two bodies.

Softly they whispered… comments to entice, arouse… He pulled her to the
small dance floor - the music's beat heavy and seductive. His hand
pulled her close, just close enough to brush against him, and her hand
left his shoulder to play with the hair that brushed the collar of his
silky sweater, while their other hands were joined, trapped between

It seemed hours that they swayed and turned about the floor, the heat of
the others like an aphrodisiac.  And when lips almost touched, the
exotic Troi slowly pulled back, the fire in her eyes met the barely
banked flames in his and, hands still entwined, they left the room.

Despite the air that crackled around them, there was no rushing. They
walked, one strong hand rested lightly on her waist, the tips of the
blunt fingers brushing the sensitive skin of her hip through the dress,
while she held his other - sometimes brushing the knuckles with her
thumb, others bringing it up to do the same with curved lips.

The same lips that, upon entering the room, opened willingly when his
claimed hers in a wet, hot kiss. Pushing her hands through his light
hair, she met him kiss for kiss - not in battle, for their goal was the
same, but in rushing towards that same goal… all patience left as
buttons came undone and zippers heatedly opened.

Deanna walked forward, edging them both towards the bed, the kisses now
quick as they gasped for breath and got to know the other's body. When
legs met the side of the large bed, both fell over momentarily stunned
and still panting, staring into each other's eyes before breaking to
trace with eyes, then questing hands and lips.

She reveled in the smoothness of his lightly muscled chest, his hands
and lips as they molded and caressed her own, the contrast of
rough/smooth as their legs became entangled as they rolled over the
blankets that no one had bothered to pull down.  The soft to the touch
hardness of him as he finally sank inside, brought moans of wanting, of
need… Driving them both to the edge and back as his own unintelligible
shouts, hard thrusts and the pressure from his finger in…oh, just the
right place brought her climax that shattered his last hold on control.

And then, nothing but sleep. No soft whispers of love and adoration, no
lingering feelings of rapture nor profound senses of peace, not even the
warm hugs of post intimacy cuddling: just the empty void left after an
intense but brief moment of gratification.


Chocolate, Deanna reflected, was a welcome constant in her life. It gave
comfort when comfort was needed, it granted serenity during feelings of
turmoil, and it offered pleasure during instances of sadness – on almost
every occasion but the present. Now, she could only stare glumly at the
sweet concoction in front of her, silently berating herself for allowing
herself to be caught up in her own drowning sense of guilt and idealism.

She was not a believer of one-night stands, never really had been. Sex
had always been more like a spiritual journey for her. There were to be
emotions on both sides, a sweet coupling of the mind as well as the
body. Ideally, a place where physical pleasure blended with mental
awakening, creating an intoxicating experience for each mate. In every
liaison she had engaged in throughout her life, she could always
rationalize the activity, placing each encounter in a mental category.
She had either been blindly in love, in the process of falling in love,
wildly infatuated, a combination of the three, or at the very least
highly companionable towards, but never lacking in all, never totally
void of any sort of honorable intention… until the other night. Until
she allowed one restless encounter to break through her hard built
belief system and cause her to question herself, her actions, and her

It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy the act itself, for she did. She was
healthy, and admittedly highly imaginative; both passionate about life
and whole-heartedly committed to experiencing every nuance of it that
fate allowed - and physically, her most recent encounter had been very
satisfying. But now, having had the experience she could do little more
than learn from it, which didn’t stop the guilt from coming. It was as
though she had betrayed some secret part of herself and had submitted to
an act she faulted in others, especially the man who was approaching her
side now.

She fell further into her doldrums when she felt the presence of her
best friend approaching. The very standard to every physical encounter
she had had since they were together fell on his shoulders unknowingly,
and she felt neither companionable nor overtly anxious to face what she
considered her failure in the form of crass intimacy, no matter that he
would never condemn her. Which made her think… With Will Riker the
relationship had been as passionate as it was intense, and as
encompassing as it had been fulfilling. There had never been a question
of right and wrong, never a doubt that she was exactly where she wanted
to be and with whom she wanted. She had loved, and been loved, she had
been whole and complete to a degree that she had never been able to
duplicate since… much to her continual dismay.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked softly, as if somehow sensing her mood.
She did little more than shake her head, eyes locked firmly on the
rapidly melting ice cream sundae as she instinctively reached out with
her mind and felt for his emotions, the way she did almost automatically
whenever he was near. What she sensed surprised her because he too was
reflective: anxious, unsettled, disturbed, flooded with inner turmoil
and a softly nagging fear.

And she wondered at it, trying to understand why he would be struggling
and what cross roads he would be at that would put him in the same sort
of funk she had placed herself in. They were silent for the longest
stretch of time, seconds passing by flawlessly as they both waited for
the other to speak. And finally, unable to bear the silence any more
than she could her own whimsicism, she spoke.

“How do you do it?” she said suddenly, turning to meet his gaze.

“Do what, Deanna?” he asked tiredly, noticeable dark circles under his
eyes as she perceived his evident exhaustion for the first time since he
sat beside her.

“How to you pursue one meaningless relationship after another, never
finding or allowing true fulfillment while you casually approach
intimacy as if it were simply an act and not a deeper connection?” she
continued morbidly, not caring that she had just spelled out her own
guilt in clear neon letters.

She expected him to have a witty retort to her question, some sort of
masculine reply that would indicate that momentary gratification was all
he ever really needed. He surprised her by remaining silent and staring
forward, as if lost in deep thought over her question and its many
layers of meaning.

“I noticed you left with some guy the other night. I wondered at it,” he
replied finally, after more moments passed in utter silence. There was a
sadness to his voice, a certain aspect to the tone that would normally
result in instant concern on her part, but she was too preoccupied at
that moment to give it more than a passing thought as she wondered at
why he answered so indirectly.

"It’s like yin and yang," she announced after a beat, more to herself
then to him as her mind continued to turn over the subject. "On one hand
you have quick, unattached pleasure that grants limited ardor and joy,
versus the blinding, all inclusive, boundless, dizzying, tender, devoted
and loving passion between two souls who desperately want to complete
each other. And there is no comparison."

"I agree," he responded in a whisper, so softly that she barely heard
his admission. But she did, and she couldn't repress the shock that
permeated her contemplative haze. She stared at him wide eyed, blue eyes
meeting brown, and fell into his gaze as he stared back at her
undaunted, daring her to argue his claim.

"It’s something I've been thinking about a lot lately, more often than
is maybe wise. And you're right. I agree. There is no comparison," he
said firmly, holding her gaze.  "I've had god knows how many sexual
encounters, and only one encounter with love making, and the difference
between the two is astronomical. For years I kept denying it, hoping
that it would be possible to find that feeling again without having to
deal with romantic entanglements. But I was wrong, and career driven,
and frightened as hell of falling helplessly, and unconditionally in
love again… the way I fell for you."

At that, Deanna took in a desperate breath of air, her heart drumming
loudly in her ears as her feelings for the man before her slowly started
to creep out of their hidden corner, unrestrained in spite of their
years of captivity to her will.

And still he continued on.

"The thing I've learned through the years is that there are scarier
things than falling in love, like maybe going through the rest of your
life loving someone so much that it hurts, but not being able to tell
that person for fear it will mess up the status quo. Like watching the
person you love learn the lessons that you've already repeatedly learned
with other partners while your own heart screams out in protest. And
then wishing it hadn’t taken that to make you realize… realize…" he
breathed as he inched closer to her, his face portraying long hidden
emotion as did the churning sea brewing in his eyes. "That the scariest
thing is wondering…waiting…and hoping that the time would come…” He
shook his head, eyes flashing. “No, that the time had come, when those
two people who were meant for each other would finally realize it and
wake up from the half sleeping mode they'd allowed themselves to be
stuck in all of these years," he finished, his face just a breath away
from hers.

And in an overwhelming rush of profound clarity, Deanna Troi realized
that something.  She may have few regrets about her relationships since
Will, with the most recent the one real exception, but they had never
been enough, or even as much as they could have been: because her heart
had already known perfection and it couldn't, wouldn't, settle for
anything less. Because for a rare instant in time her body, mind, heart
and soul, were united in their desires in a way they had almost
forgotten. And, after all the years they had both served on the
Enterprise her consistently turbulent emotions in regards to Will Riker
had finally become abundantly clear.

And she smiled, lovingly, softly… her whole face lighting up in a way
that caused his head to spin, while he marveled at the way the light
glistened in her eyes and danced off the highlights in her hair.

"I should have never settled for anything less," she replied with
whispered anticipation, delighting in the surge of emotion that
surrounded her, both his and her own.

"And I never will again," he vowed fervently, reaching across the now
unreal space of their past, to close the final gap between them, where
lips met and souls became whole.

The End!