Shame on me for promising more and then not delivering. I wish I had an excuse but I don't, I'm starting to wish I'd put my effort into something a bit more commercial, but we're here now - so as usual please leave a comment if you enjoyed it and want to read more, or just to let me know your thoughts, criticism is welcomed; and special thanks to a recent commenter on AO3 who's kindness really stirred my conscience - I wouldn't have carried on otherwise.
His heart jumps for a scintillation of a second, hearing the turbolift arrive at the opening behind him.
He turns his head, and the feeling does not last long.
"Number One,"
He finds himself saluting disappointedly, not bothering much to hide the feeling.
Somehow - rather irrationally he thinks - he had hoped that Will would instead be Deanna, in a flowing gown, or Beverly with good news, Q even, come to wake him from this long dream.
"Captain, it's good to be back,"
Riker responds, pulling him out of captivation, and the man's uniform is a little crumpled and wrinkled around his shoulders and between the muscles of his chest; there are a few small scorches along the sleeve of one arm, and he walks with a little weakness. What the commander lacks in personal judgement he makes up for in professional responsibility.
"You've seen Dr Crusher already?"
Picard asks him, standing from his chair with formality as the man makes his way along the ramp and down to the center of the bridge.
"Just came from there, all back on form now,"
Will says, jogs on the balls of his feet as if to illustrate his point, coming close enough now to reach out with a closed finger hand.
"I trust Beverly talked some sense into you while you were there - knees, not back?"
He's asked as they shake hands briefly, reaching for one another like friends and not colleagues.
Both are glad to be rid of the tension that had existed between them before.
"I'm sure she would have been more than happy to Sir, had she been able to see me."
There is a quick silence as they take their respective seats.
Will pinches his trousers at bending knees, crosses one leg broadly over the other.
"Looks like that new Doctor had her tied up,"
He says in a new tone of suspicion.
Picard doesn't miss the change, and rather unusually finds himself agreeing, humming slowly before saying:
"Yes he seems to have taken up a large chunk of her time lately."
They trade that look.
"I've yet to be introduced to him myself."
"Well if you'd seen how he spoke about Troi back on Tiberius-"
Will ripples his shoulders a little, as if the memory walks over his grave.
"Well, I'm just saying it might be wise to introduce yourself."
Their voices lower, and the Captain brings his head down and in closer to Riker's, craned over the console between them.
"Number one?"
"There's something -"
Will groans the difficulty of being an officer and not a man.
"- I hate to say it - Cardassian - about his research,"
He says as delicately as he can manage, not meaning to set off a conspiracy but doing it anyway.
"How is it he found out about her anyway, our report went to Starfleet medical under tight protection protocols, only the admiral there and her research team know?"
"Holt."
The name is about as dirty as the underbelly of their ship, and it puts lightning in Picard's eyes.
"He was telling anybody who'd listen, trying to get the ear of the Captain to fast track his reassignment,"
Will continues in bitter taste.
Counselor Troi herself is meant to be approving the man's transfer, and such things can be lengthy processes at the best of times, but now?
The thought that maybe he is the least of her concerns does not confound either of them a bit.
"Well I trust this isn't quite the success he was hoping for?"
Picard says dryly, casting his eyes briefly over the crew around him, and up to the ship that lays stationary on their viewscreen.
He turns back just in time to catch Will shaking his head gently, the two of them still dipped low down in near-conspiracy.
"I wouldn't be so sure of that Sir."
There is a beat of thoughtful silence, and the duty officer stood at the weapons console behind them clears his throat, as if he can sense the unrest too.
"Now, I don't need the Counselor to tell me there's more you're not saying?"
The Captain breaks the silence in his suggestion, and they lock eyes for another few quiet moments, the look they trade saying not very much at all, though perhaps just enough.
"I can't be sure -"
Will starts, grinding the sole of his hand across the patch of longer hairs at the peak of his chin.
"- but there's something not quite adding up about how the Tiberius was attacked."
"Such as?"
"They were only fired on the one time, they were never hailed, there were no demands issued and no real provocation,"
Will goes to reel off, looking around before continuing in just a naked whisper.
"One of the ensigns on bridge at the time told me she never even saw a ship."
"It never de-cloaked?"
He shakes his head no again, and there is more pensive silence.
"I'm going to speak to Geordi later - I can fill you in on what he thinks about it, I'm sure the team he sent over will have more to tell him,"
Will shakes his head as he speaks to mirror his sentiment, and Picard rests back in his seat a little, feeling the conversation to be waning.
"Hm, be sure that you do number one,"
He hums, and the familiarity rolls off his tongue.
Something about the absence has taught him to forget what had put the distance between them, and he is comfortable to enjoy the silence that follows as they relax back into their roles.
Will looks sidelong at him, gives a brief nod before turning to stare down at the panel to his right.
There's beeping and tapping and busy working all around them, and like this it's easy to forget the things that are still wrong.
