III

Chocolate

Paraphrasing Terran philosopher-humorist Will Rogers, she says "she never met a chocolate she didn't like" — unless it might be the replicated variety;"xii

"Beverly. Where's Deanna?"

"I don't know. What time is it?"

"1325."

"She's not in her office?"

"No."

"Quarters?"

"Nope, I checked before lunch, I wanted to talk to her."

The redhead's eyebrows quirked, but she continued her work. "Ten Forward? She usually likes to take in a cup of hot chocolate during this time if her patient load isn't too heavy."

"Oh? Okay. Thanks Beverly."

"You're welcome," the doctor said in a singsong voice.

"Are you avoiding me?"

Will's inquiry cracked the silent atmosphere in Ten-Forward. Most officers were on duty, and most children were at school. Only a few straggling waiters and bartenders occupied the crew's lounge. Deanna didn't know why he wasn't on duty either, but she didn't really care, at this point. The time she usually counted on to sort through her thoughts had sacrificed itself to William Riker.

Deanna shrugged –an action her mother would have greatly disapproved of. "I've been working." She turned to look at him. "And there's nothing wrong with wanting to spend time alone, is there?"

Defensively, Riker backed down. "No, sorry. It just occurred to me that you've been taking the night shift everyday for the past couple of days since our last session."

She looked at him with a hint of ridiculousness. "I'm not avoiding you," she reiterated.

"Can we talk?"

"Actually-"

Will wanted to throw something. "You need to work. I understand."

Deanna glared at him. "No, you don't. You think that I'm still keen on avoiding you."

"So you have been avoiding me!"

Troi nearly screamed. "No, I haven't!"

But Will Riker kept his cool, which was rather uncharacteristic for him. "Yes, you have. You know why? I think you're tired of having to face the reality of our relationship, the complications and the fortifications that you've managed to build, and the people who have made an impact on both of us. I think you're tired of being alone, Deanna. You're tired of having to face the harsh realities of a life half-lived just because you have no one to live it with. You're so used to being alone that you're scared of anything that even hints at the otherwise."

Deanna stood up, uttered no less than two words of "Goodbye" and "Will", and left.

Against his better judgment, Will called out, "You forgot your chocolate!"

A week later, Deanna was in Ten-Forward again. Ten minutes later, Will arrived, smiling, and ready for a new start. What he received was more than he expected.

She told him about Imzadi, about its history in her family, and about its connotations and, she talked about whether or not he felt that they were suitable for the term. He, in turn, mentioned Andy, and life and death and love and hate.

And then Deanna did the most surprising thing.

"I'd like to be friends, Will."

His eyebrows jump. "What?"

She gave him a small grin, not wanting them to argue. Again. "You heard me."

"But, why?"

She stated the obvious and the well rehearsed. "Because we work together."

But Will only scoffed. "That's bullshit, Deanna. You can't just walk in here, tell me that you love me, and then say that you'd rather be friends."

"I think I just did, William."

"Why?"

"Because it would be hard to maintain a relationship on the USS Enterprise."

"You're not thinking straight."

"I think I'm thinking more clearly than I ever have!"

"No! You're thinking without feeling! How convenient for you, the mighty Betazoid!"

"That's not fair."

"No, Deanna. What's not fair is your selfish choice to abandon what we have. Who really cares if we work together? Beverly and the Captain don't seem to mind that fact, and he's the captain!"

"We're different, Will."

"Why? Because of our history? Because you were the doctor and I was the patient? Because of Andy? What?"

"I love you, Will. But things change. Our circumstances change. Our realities change."

"Deanna . . . "

"You might say that my reality has never changed. That yours has, and you see it with me."

"But?"

"I don't."

"So you'd rather be friends."

"Would that be alright?"

Will looked at her, swallowing the lump forming in his throat, and drying the tears that were never going to spill in front of her.

"Yes, I guess that that would."

Because he would rather have her as a friend than not have her at all.