I have no idea where this came from.
Set during the bizarre time when someone got stoned and had been watching too much 'Beauty and the Beast' and thought Worf and Deanna should give it a go. #imzadi4ever
…
Deanna was sliding her front teeth along the edge of her lip, a sure sign she was uncomfortable. He tried not to notice. Behind him the Klingon security chief made a soft throat clearing noise. The First Officer flinched, his eyes drifting shut afterwards in barely contained mortification. He looked down at the display on his armchair, two more hours, damn. To say things had been awkward between the three of them was putting it mildly. Since the love of his life and his old buddy Worf had decided they had feelings for each other, Will Riker had lived in a bizarre world of regret and confusion. He'd given his blessing, of course. What else was he supposed to do? Deanna had gently, diplomatically, walked the tight rope of respect and independence like a champ. Worf had at first taken his superior at his word, thinking the okay had actually meant okay. The oncoming barrage of Will Riker's uncomfortable rejection induced standoffishness had almost surprised him as much as Deanna's melancholy over it.
The three of them were almost never on the bridge at the same time. In fact, they were almost never anywhere at the same time unless duty called for it to be so. In times like those however, the urgency of the task at hand usually made it less… awkward. The Klingon's eyes drifted down to the Betaziod, she was looking at the Human out of the sides of her eyes. Her face was angled towards his, and despite his dead forward stare, she seemed to be studying him for something. Worf cleared his throat again, and Deanna's chin lifted towards him in silent acknowledgement. Her gaze still remained on Riker. Worf tried to turn his attention elsewhere. Ensign Yong at Helm, young Lieutenant Seal'Tal at ops, anywhere but on the Troi and Riker.
He heard Deanna take a breath, like she was finally going to say something, but the words died on her lips as Will shifted uncomfortably away from her, crossing his left leg over his right. Worf watched her head bob to inspect the carpeted floor of the lower Bridge. Riker's face turned towards her in a hesitant twitch, his eyelids lowering briefly. Worf thought he looked like he was in physical pain. His commanding officer took a deep breath.
"I hear Beverly had Data doing some Vulcan monologue piece tomorrow night." His soft voice was gentle and sincere. "I'm sure that will be riveting." Her head snapped up to meet his gaze. He blinked at her insecurely before smiling. "I'll have to make sure I take a nap beforehand this time."
She grinned a wide toothy grin that he had discovered she reserved for the First Officer alone.
"I don't know; your unintended display of mid-show support gave a certain comic relief." She purred at him.
"I bet it did, Counselor." He bemused. "It was your fault you know."
"My fault?" She looked at him in mock aghast.
"You shouldn't have woken me." He teased.
"I was afraid you'd start snoring." She quipped.
"I do not snore!" He guffawed.
"Now we both know that's not true, Will Riker!"
Despite his attempts to hold it in, Worf made an uncomfortable grunting noise, rocketing both his Sr. officers to laser lock their eyes on him. Will seemed almost surprised to find him there. Deanna looked apologetic before turning her face back to Riker's as the flirty carefree expression melted back into awkward subdue. She did not attempt to hide her feelings of loss.
Will swallowed a few times before pushing up from his chair and walking towards ops.
"Anything interesting out there, Lieutenant?" He asked Seal'Tal.
"Nothing unexpected, Sir." The woman sighed. "About as interesting as Commander Data's Vulcan debut."
Riker gave him a quick grin before nodding and moved towards Yong, reading over the man's shoulder. More nodding.
Deanna looked at her hands before drawing a long breath.
"Will, I-."
"Crusher to Troi."
Riker watched her sit up straighter in her chair.
"I'm here Beverly."
"Can I see you in Sickbay Counselor?"
She raised her questioning expression to her CO. He nodded.
"I'll be right there, Doctor." She told the CMO, her and Riker held each other's eyes for a moment before Deanna made her way up the ramp. She gave Worf a nod before disappearing into the lift.
Wills eyes lingered on the closing doors for a long moment before the two men exchanged a quick awkward glance.
"Mr. Worf." Riker began with a sigh a few seconds later. "Any concerns you need to discuss with me before Ambassador Illic's arrival next week?"
Worf raised his eye brows thoughtfully and the two of them veered back onto a comfortable path of ships business.
…
"Come in." Will Riker yelled out towards the living room of his quarters as he gathered the collection of work pads off the foot of his bed and sorted them into piles. He craned his neck backward as the door swished open, revealing the small figure of Deanna Troi. His eyes widened.
"Hi." She said softly, pressing her lips together.
"Hi." He breathed back, his mouth remaining slightly parted, still frozen mid shuffle.
"Can I come in?" She asked.
"Of course." He exhaled, setting the pads back down and fully turning to face her from the door way of his bedroom. "Since when do you ask?"
"It's been a while." She shrugged and he nodded, reaching up to grasp at the top of the door frame. "I wanted to.." She stopped, her eyes sweeping across the room. Her face wrinkled. "It's a mess in here Will."
His chest expanded before deflating as he gathered a pile of things off the couch, making room for her to sit.
"Did you come here to insult my decorating, Counselor?" He quipped, tossing the armful of junk onto his bed by the pads.
"No." She said sharply, starting to stack the dishes on the table. "It's just unlike you." He waved her away, pulling the dishes across the table and transporting them to the replicator. "You tend to like things in their spots."
"Been busy." He lied, pressing the console until the dinnerware disappeared. When he turned back around she was running her fingers across the spine of one of his favorite books. One she'd given him. One that had her spiraling handwriting in the cover, and a pressed piece of vine tucked in between the pages. He fought the desire to snatch it from her. Instead he extended his hand for it. "The ship's been needy lately."
"Must be." She touched the cover lovingly before holding it out to him. He clutched it to his chest like a shield. "If you're squeezing in your parts of the personnel reviews in the middle of the night."
"I'm sorry about that." He lied. "The deadline was coming and I couldn't seem to find a time to meet with you."
"I understand." She lied back. "We always seem to take twice as long when we do them together anyway."
Will crossed his other arm over the book, gripping both sides and looking into her eyes.
"Did you have questions?" He asked, she shook her head. He waited. "Deanna?"
"No they were fine." She turned her attention to a painting on his wall.
"Did you need something else?" He tried to slow down his breathing.
"Are you trying to get rid of me Commander?" She mumbled.
"Deanna.."
"I thought maybe you'd go to Data's performance with me." She turned towards him. "I promise to keep you awake this time."
He bit back the urge to ask her why she wasn't going with Worf; to ask her why she was really standing here in his quarters. Instead he just nodded and she smiled.
"Give me a minute?" He whispered tilting his head towards the bathroom.
She followed the book with her eyes as he set it on the table, waiting until he'd moved out of the room to open it. He had started back into the room when she found the piece of greenery inside and gave it a wistful smile. He watched her long thin fingers trace a leaf before closing the pages around it and setting it back on the table. She was still pressing her palm against it when he called out to her. "Ready?"
Will tentatively stretched his arm out to her in invitation, holding his breath until she took it.
"Try not to snore Commander." She teased.
"I do not snore Counselor." He insisted.
….
"Are you sure?" Beverly Crusher looked at her friend with the most serious expression she could muster at the moment.
"Beverly."
"Deanna I'm serious."
"So am I. "
"I would advise against this decision for anyone." She covered her front teeth with her tongue when she finished speaking.
"As would I Beverly, but it's complicated." Deanna protested, her eyes skimming over the doctor's shoulder. "The whole situation needs more time."
"Deanna.." Beverly's voice was a gentle but firm warning.
"I know." Troi put her palm up to the doctor. "Believe me, Beverly I know." The Betaziod's gaze was focused on something behind the other woman. "When I'm ready, okay?"
"Okay." Beverly acquiesced, watching Deanna smile at whomever was approaching. By the way her eyes glowed Crusher was pretty sure who it was.
"Ladies." Will Riker's warm voice. "Hope I'm not interrupting."
"Not at all Commander." Troi gestured to the chair between the two of them. "Join us."
"How are things in Sickbay Doctor?" Will turned to the CMO.
"Busy. As usual." She looked at Deanna. "In fact I should be getting back. If you want to talk later.."
"I know Bev." Deanna whispered. The doctor gave her a long look before saying goodbye to Riker and striding towards the door.
"What was that?" Will asked his face quirking up. "Something I said?"
"No." Deanna sighed.
"You didn't tell her about the snoring thing did you?" He accused.
"No." She giggled, he raised an accusing eyebrow. "She really is busy."
"Okay." He sighed. "Can I get you another drink?" He pointed at her empty glass.
She shook her head, then smiled at his disappointed look.
"Take a walk with me?" She asked softly, bringing back his grin. "The arboretum?"
He stood up slowly, reaching out for her again. She came willingly, looping her arm around his.
"We haven't done this in a while." He whispered half way into their stroll, the unspoken question punctuating his seemly innocent observation. She hummed in response. "Deanna?"
She pulled away from him, settling on a nearby bench, moving her hands over her flushed face.
"Will.." He stood still facing her, watching her eyes move in long clicks around the space. He suppressed the huff that threatened to break free of his lips when she closed her mouth again.
"Deanna I'm confused."
"Me too." She closed her gaze back in on him. "You've been shutting me out Will. Since…"
He dropped his head for a minute before steeling his gaze.
"It seemed like the right thing to do." He admitted, his face contorting into an almost grimace.
"We've both been in relationships before." She accused.
"Not like this." He objected. "Not.. like this…"
"Will.." Her tone was soft, understanding. He almost heard the word passing between them. He silently willed her not to say it. It would certainly be too much for him.
"Don't.. I shouldn't have.." He grunted softly. "Let's just finish our walk." He stood above her, his hand reaching. She nodded pressing up from the bench, swaying a little as she did. "Deanna?"
Before she could fall or regain control his arm was around her waist, the other cupping the back of her neck. He furrowed his brow before moving it to her cheek.
"You're burning up." He whispered, his hand reaching towards his communicator.
"No." She whispered threading her fingers with his. "It's okay."
"Deanna-."
"Will." She ran her and down his arm, squeezing it at the elbow. "Really. Just take me back to my quarters. I'm fine."
He studied her eyes before reluctantly nodding.
"You're not fine." Will told her as he led her to the couch in her living room.
"I will be." She sighed, resting her head in her hands.
"We should go to Sickbay." He ran his fingers through her hair lightly.
"I've been to Sickbay, Will. It's fine." She encircled his wrist.
"Beverly-." He protested.
"Beverly's aware. I promise you Will, it's fine." He squinted at her, his brows knit tightly. "Just.." She tugged at him until he sat down on the couch beside her, the hand in her hair trailed down her shoulder.
"You're shaking." He breathed worriedly.
"It's the fever." She smiled at him, and he reached up to gather the soft throw resting on the back of the sofa. He wrapped it around her shoulders, carefully and tentatively pulling her down onto his chest, sighing in relief at how willingly she sunk into his embrace. He ran his hands up and down her arms and she pressed deeper into him. He wasn't sure how long they'd stayed like that before he heard a soft almost inaudible sore escape her lips. With an ironic smirk he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom, and laid her against the silky sheets. "Will?" She whispered.
"I'm here." He promised, pressing his lips to her brow.
"Stay." Her lips barely moved when she spoke. He knew he should protest. He knew he should remind her about Worf. Remind her that she had moved on past the days when they'd fall asleep wrapped in each other's arms when one of them was sick, or hurt or afraid.
They didn't do that anymore. He should have said all of that, instead he simply kicked off his shoes before sliding in beside her.
She burrowed against his chest, gripping the front of his uniform until he pressed small kisses against her hairline and covered his hands with hers.
…