The Devil's Argument

He'd fled to the observation deck after the captain had shocked him by yelling at him – the first time ever – and then threatening to demote him. He'd hoped there would be no one there, and he was right, the deck was dark and empty. He'd stood at one of the windows, looking out, shaking, the memory of the captain's words playing over and over again in his thoughts.

When the doors opened, he didn't have to turn around to know who it was. He'd recognised the sound of the footsteps, the breathing, the presence. He could feel Captain – no, Admiral – Pressman come close to him, close enough to touch him, and then stop, an arm's reach away.

"I thought I would find you here, Will," Pressman said, his voice low. "Some things, at least, haven't changed."

Riker didn't answer.

Pressman said, "You used to come to the observation deck on the Pegasus, to get away, especially when you were upset. You remember, don't you?" Pressman moved closer, his voice taking on a coaxing tone, as if Riker were a feral cat. "This is where I found you, the first time."

Riker found his voice. "I've done good work on this ship," he said.

"I know you have, Will." Pressman still had the coaxing tone in his voice. "So many distinctions, so many commendations."

"It took me," he continued, still not facing Pressman, "six years, six years," he repeated, "to reach the place where my captain would trust me implicitly. And you have destroyed it in one afternoon."

"Oh, Will," Pressman said. "Your captain understands the nature of these kinds of orders. There's no harm done."

He said, sharply, "Captain Picard despises these kinds of orders. He despises the people who make them. And the people who follow them. There has been more than enough harm done, Admiral."

"I think you're over-dramatising a bit, Will," Pressman said, lightly. "You always did have that tendency."

"You were not in the captain's ready room when he told me he would reconsider the command structure of this ship," Riker said, bitterly. "He has found out about the mutiny and that not one of us had the courage to tell the truth."

"Will," Pressman said, and he moved up behind Riker, placing his hand on Riker's arm. "What truth is that, Will?"

"That what we did was wrong," Riker answered. "That what I did was wrong."

"You saved my life," Pressman reminded him. "How is saving the life of another human being wrong?"

"You twist everything around," Riker said, and he moved a pace away. "How was it right to leave them to their deaths?"

"But we didn't know they would all die," Pressman countered, and he moved even closer to Riker, so that Will could almost feel Pressman's breath on the back of his neck. "How could we? You thought my life was in danger, and you saved me. It was a heroic action. You know that's true."

"There was nothing heroic about what I did," Riker replied.

"No?" Pressman asked. He placed his other arm around Riker, and brought Will against him. "You saved the man you loved. I call that heroic."

"Don't," Riker said, but there was no conviction in his voice.

"I've missed you," Pressman answered, kissing the back of Riker's neck. "I was so sure, when I came onboard, that you would have been in a relationship with Picard. And I am so glad to know that you are not."

"Captain Picard," Riker said, pulling away, "does not believe in shipboard relationships."

Pressman chuckled. "Half the people on this ship are married and have children, Will," he said, pulling Riker back. He wrapped his arms around Riker's chest. "Listen, I can understand if you don't want to pursue Picard's interest in you, Will. He's much too old for you. I'm grateful," Pressman whispered, pressing himself against Riker's back. "I've missed you, my sweet boy," he said. "You have no idea how much I've missed you."

"Someone will come in here," Riker protested, but it sounded false to his own ears.

"Then privacy lock the doors," Pressman said. He'd placed his hands under Riker's tunic and was running them up and down Riker's chest. "You're not the gangly little boy I knew," he said. "All arms and legs. You've filled out nicely, Will."

Riker sucked in his breath as Pressman placed one hand over his crotch.

"Not hard yet?" Pressman asked. "The Will I knew was hard any time I looked at him."

"I'm not twenty-one anymore," Riker replied, removing Pressman's hand. "Please, sir. Don't do this."

"Since when have you called me 'sir' in private, Will?" Pressman asked, and he deftly turned Riker around to face him.

"Since I became First Officer of this ship, sir," Riker said.

"Someone needs to get laid," Pressman said, laughing. "Will. Settle down. I'm not going to hurt you."

Riker said, "You already have."

"So that's what this is about," Pressman said. "Come here, Will."

He took Riker by the hand and led him to one of the sofas. He sat down, and pulled Riker down beside him. Then he cupped Riker's face and kissed him, hard, until Riker yielded. He broke off, and brought Riker in, resting Will's head on his shoulder.

"By the time everything was over, Will," Pressman said in Riker's ear, "you'd already been reassigned to Betazed. I was going to come after you, but my advocate told me to stay away, because we were still being watched. After it had all died down, I was ready to come for you, only to find out that you'd begun a relationship with Deanna Troi. So which one of us was hurt, Will? You'd said you would wait for me."

"I didn't say that," Riker denied. "And I was told not to associate with anyone from the Pegasus."

"All these years, Will, I've worried about you, wondered where you were, how you were doing. I should have come for you, when you were assigned to the Potemkin. I'm sorry about that, I really am." Pressman kissed him. "Let me make it up to you, Will. Aren't you tired of being alone? I'm not just here for the Pegasus, Will. I'm here for you, too."

"So that's why you've damaged the relationship I had with my captain?" Riker said. "Erik? Because you thought Jean-Luc was your competition?" Riker laughed, bitterly, and sat up. "Jean-Luc's not interested in me. We had a good solid working relationship. We were friends."

"I didn't damage your relationship with Picard, Will," Pressman responded. "You always were a little paranoid."

"Whatever," Riker said, sullen.

"Let's not quarrel," Pressman coaxed. "It's past time you were off the Enterprise and you know it. You're getting too old to be a First, William – it's a young man's job. You've turned down your own ship too many times, and people are now wondering what's wrong with you."

"There's nothing wrong with me," Riker replied angrily.

"Will, I know that," Pressman said easily. "I know you. You think you've found what you always wanted."

"Oh?" Riker looked away. "And what's that?"

"A home, Will," Pressman said.

Riker made an odd choking sound, and Pressman brought him into his arms and kissed him again.

"See, baby," Pressman said, quietly. "I know you." He held Riker for a minute, and then he said, "Listen to me, Will. I'm here to offer you a job with me. It's the perfect position for you. It's challenging – you'll get to use that brain of yours – and you'll have the use of your own ship, when you need it. It's an automatic promotion, Will. You'll be captain, finally – isn't that what you always wanted, when you were a little boy? To be Captain Riker?" Pressman stroked Riker's hair. "And I want you to come home to me, Will. I've a beautiful place on the water just outside of San Francisco, in Monterey. You'll have a home, where there's someone who wants you. Someone who loves you." Pressman paused, and then he said, "I love you, Will, I always have. Let me make love to you. Don't worry about everything so. Everything will be all right."

Riker remembered something from his high school literature class, and he said, pulling away, "I think that be the Devil's argument."

Pressman laughed, the laugh of a man who's won. "You always were too smart for your own good," he said, fondly.

Riker was silent as Pressman opened his trousers, and he was quiet, later, even when he came.

"Spend the night with me, Will," Pressman said, after, kissing Riker along the back of his neck.

"I can't," Riker said, and even Pressman could hear the pain in his voice.

"Don't make this into something it's not," Pressman said, and his voice was colder, somehow. He stood up and fastened his trousers. "You know what your problem has always been, Will?" he said, straightening his uniform.

"I guess you're going to tell me," Riker said, starting to dress, "whether I want to hear it or not."

Pressman grabbed Riker's arm, and pulled him forward harshly. "You want the sex, just not the responsibility that goes with it."

"At least," Riker said, looking straight at Pressman, "I'm not the one responsible for my dead crewmates."

Riker stood completely still, even as Pressman backhanded him.

"I'm disappointed in you, Commander," Pressman said. "I never thought you were a fool, Will. I guess I was wrong."

Pressman wheeled around and said, "Unlock the doors."

"Release privacy lock, Riker omega three," Riker said, wiping the blood from his lip.

Pressman said, without turning around, "Despite your behaviour, my offer still stands." He left.

Riker said, "Yes, sir," and bent down to pull on his boots. He tidied himself up and then he said, as if he'd only just remembered Pressman's comment, "I was always your fool, Erik."

In the morning he told Captain Picard the truth, and Pressman's look of betrayal followed him all the way to the brig.