Chapt. 11

He stared at her from across the room, studying her body language to determine how she felt; not daring to reach out through their link in fear of angering her. It had been four months since the disappearance of Worf, Eric and Shannara and she seemed to be coping remarkably well.

If it weren't for the fact she refused to talk to him.

Never had she ignored him to this extend, not even during their first weeks aboard the Enterprise and he always thought she had done a pretty good job back then. Apart from professional conversations she didn't say a word to him and refused to look him in the eyes.

She laughed at something Data said; her head thrown back and long, dark tresses swept across her back. Her long and graceful neck exposed and he couldn't help but reminisce how it was to kiss her there, to feel the strong pulse of her heartbeat against his lips. Her head snapped towards him and for the first time since three months she bore her eyes into his. Will could swear he sensed her shock and anger. Before he had the chance to apologize empathically, she excused herself and stormed out the lounge.

Riker sighed resigned at swallowed the remains of his whiskey, watching Crusher take off after Deanna with just a spark of hope.

What Riker didn't know was that Troi was angry at herself, not at Riker...well to a lesser degree anyway. She was torn between the love for the memory of her husband and children and the love she harbored for her Imzadi. A love she'd denied for years and one he reminded her off every single day since Worf had...went.

She still couldn't say it. Not even in her thoughts. There had been a funeral, a beautiful fairy-tale like funeral for the children, with all their favorite foods and thousands of white flowers. It had helped a little to say good-bye to them in that way, but still a part of her hoped they were alive elsewhere and until she'd seen unmistakable proof that they weren't she would believe.

For Worf she had organized a true Klingon funeral and even managed to get through it without shedding a tear, as he would have expected of her.

She sensed Beverly standing behind her, ready to speak. "Please leave Bev." She whispered quietly, any compassionate words now and she'd either break down in tears or hurt the person saying them and she didn't want to do either.

"I can't Dea, you're behaving strangely."

"LEAVE" But although her exclamation had startled the doctor, the redhead wouldn't budge and kept her blue eyes fixed onto the back of Troi's head. Deanna sensed her determination and her understanding. Of course, if anyone knew how she felt it would be Beverly. After all, she had lost her husband as well.

Slowly, in an attempt to hold on to her composure, she turned around coming to stand face to face with a very determined, crossed armed Beverly Crusher.

For the doctor the turmoil in the onyx eyes of her friend was painfully clear. She couldn't say with absolute certainty what was bothering Deanna, but she had a fairly good idea. It was pretty obvious how she avoided being in the same room with Will Riker longer than was absolutely necessary and being the romantic she was the doctor hoped Troi's feelings for Riker had resurfaced.

Which was a source of major confliction for Deanna no doubt. But perhaps with a little encouragement and some patient nudging...