Chapter 5 is here, finally.
Thank you so much to DianeB, who offered her precious time to beta this chapter.
Troi's senses we're awoken by his presence as soon as he climbed into bed with her. Will's warmth immediately soothed Deanna's senses. She felt his arm drape across her middle, and without moving or opening her eyes, she took his hand in hers. Intertwining their fingers, Deanna brought Will's hand up against her chest, pressing him closer to her.
Will gave Deanna's hand a gentle squeeze and accepted her invitation to snuggle closer. As he began relaxing into sleep he heard her whisper, "Here to keep an eye on me?"
"Very close supervision." Will whispered back with a smile in his voice. He snuck a gentle kiss on Deanna's cheek and they drifted off to sleep in their shared warmth.
The Child
Chapter 5
An early morning hue began to brighten the bedroom. Troi preferred to awaken to the gently increasing light, rather than to the intrusive sounds of an alarm. The changing light awoke Riker, but this time he was in bed with his imzadi.
He didn't want to open his eyes just yet. Just a little longer with her warm body beside him...he didn't want this moment to end. Will turned and draped his arm around Deanna, pressing his chest against her back, tickling her bare shoulder with his beard. He ran his fingers down her arm and entwined them with hers. Will's desire for her was intense. He had been wanting her for some time now. It had been too long, in his opinion, and he wondered if she would be amenable to some gentle lovemaking. His intention was to taste every inch of her body and make her forget her troubles if only for a moment.
Troi awoke in the middle of a very pleasant dream that was becoming more erotic by the second. But as she gained consciousness in the subtle glow of her bedroom, the sensations from her dream morphed into caresses on her shoulder and down her arm, and a big, warm body against her back, wrapping itself around her. "Mm... good morning, Commander," she murmured without moving a muscle.
"Good morning, Counselor," he replied, nuzzling the crook of her neck. "I have a predawn activity scheduled for you today."
Troi's response was a lazy chuckle, "Predawn is too early for anything, Commander."
Making a trail of kisses around the back of her shoulder towards her collarbone, Will coaxed Deanna to lie on her back. "We'll start with a warm-up, then." he said as he continued his trail of kisses across to her neck and jawline.
When he stopped, Troi opened her eyes to slits and blinked his blurry face into focus. There he was, studying her with a lazy smile, messy hair and sleepy eyes. So handsome. His captivating blue eyes projecting his desire into her senses.
"How are you feeling?" Will asked as he smoothed a lock of Deanna's hair away from her neck.
She answered with a sleepy smile of her own, "Fine, rested," she said as she arched against him with a languid stretch.
"Yeah?" his voice was imbued with more gentleness and affection than she could remember him ever using with her.
"M hmm," Deanna reassured Will as she squirmed back against him after her lazy stretch. He was radiating sexual energy and it was catching on.
Lying beside Deanna, their bodies left no space in between. Caressing her skin, Riker greeted her lips with a kiss, gentle, but with boiling intensity behind it. He wanted her naked beneath him. Will shifted his touch to cup Deanna's breast, massaging it and playing with her nipple through the fabric of her top, pinching forcefully until the counselor groaned with pleasure.
"Warming up, Counselor?" he asked with a smirk when he parted from her lips to speak.
Deanna moaned in response, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, and pulling him back down.
"Yeah, I know how to get this engine running." the commander teased, and when their lips met again, the fire was roaring.
Riker began a trail of kisses down the side of her neck to her collarbone. He slid one strap of her top down her shoulder, and immediately covered her exposed breast with his mouth, running his tongue over her nipple. His hand slid down her side, lightly tickling her ribs on the way down. Will reached her hip and tugged at her waistband. The counselor instinctively raised her hips and let him pull the bottom of her pajamas the rest of the way down.
Replacing the warmth of her pajamas was Will, coaxing her legs apart and nestling in between when Deanna parted them for him. He took the covers with him on his way down, leaving a trail of kisses from between the counselor's breasts, aiming straight down to where his expert fingers were already at the entrance to his favorite place.
Waking up to this was insanely good. Will knew where to touch her, how to touch, how to project his desire right into her senses. That comment about getting her engine running was no joke. His kisses left a warm path on the fabric of her top, down from between her breasts. Deanna gasped and arched her back a little as the sudden teasing of his fingers inflamed her arousal in anticipation of what he was about to do to her.
And then he stopped.
"Why did you stop?" All she heard in response was silence. "Will?" She asked in a husky voice, annoyed. Troi reached out with her senses and what she got was a compete shift from where he was just seconds ago. She reluctantly opened her eyes. "Why did you stop?" she insisted, propping herself up onto her elbows.
Riker's shoulders were nestled between her legs, and he was staring at her bellybutton. Actually, he was staring at a noticeable bump just beneath her bellybutton. What had been a flat plane the day before was now a soft curve stretching the fabric of her light blue top. The counselor just stared in amazement at her own body, the sudden change in her figure taking her by surprise.
Riker gently tugged Deanna's top upwards to uncover her new roundness. They both stared at it, not exactly sure of what to do. Mesmerized, Troi placed her hand on her newly rounded middle. Yesterday's shocking news and the flurry of emotions that followed, had become second thought next to her pleasant awakening at Will's side. The whole day yesterday, she had felt like she had been navigating through a surrealistic dream. Now, though, her feet hit the ground. The round belly beneath her hand was real. It was definitely real.
"This is new." Will awkwardly broke the silence. His voice brought Troi back from her daze and she took notice of their situation. The covers were gone, she was naked from the waist down and Will was still down between her legs. She couldn't think of anything to say.
"Are you okay?" Will asked. Their eyes met.
"Yes, I'm..." Troi thought for a moment, "...I'm speechless, really."
Draping his arm over her thigh, Riker shifted his weight onto one elbow and supported his head in his hand. He hovered his other hand over the one Troi had on her belly and flashed his charming blue eyes at his imzadi. She couldn't help but smile. That damn look was irresistible. She moved her hand away and Will lowered his onto the soft curve that was now a part of Deanna.
"Look," he said with amazement, "it's like a little ball in my hand." His large hand covered her entire belly. A long pause followed and then his expression changed. He felt a sad sort of wonder at what Deanna was going through. Saddened that this was not something both could share the way he believed they were meant to.
Troi had spent that quiet moment running her fingers through Will's hair, lightly massaging his scalp. She had her empathic sense extended towards him, following his emotional path as he thought. The sadness had sprouted almost immediately and had held steady. Deanna sensed him getting into a funk, and she knew she had to get him out of it. That was not a good place for him to be, especially now. Plus, having Will brooding around her was not going to be any fun. She knew exactly how to achieve that.
"Hey," Troi said softly, not wanting to startle him. Riker looked up and she had his attention. "This is officially the most time you have ever spent down there…" she said with a raised eyebrow.
Will relaxed and grinned.
"...with nothing to show for it," she added, tilting her head to the side.
Will caught on and shifted his weight up until their lips met again, and the fire roared back to life.
The screen on Picard's desk lit up after he accepted the communication request from Starfleet Medical.
"Captain Picard," said Doctor Alfred Hudson, Admiral, and director of Starfleet Medical's department of genetics. "I hope all is well on the Enterprise."
"Admiral Hudson. All is well on the Enterprise, thank you."
"That's good to hear, Captain." the admiral said with a cheery smile. "And your ship's counselor, how is she doing?" He rested his joined hands on his desk and waited for Picard's answer.
Red flags went up immediately. Picard had been hoping that Troi's case and everything surrounding it would pass under the radar. He had been careful about not prioritizing the related reports he reviewed and approved. He had kept the medical reports about Troi as unrelated as possible from the science reports, hoping that a potential relationship between the two incidents would not stand out from the very beginning. But all he was doing, really, was stalling for time, and it looked like that time was up sooner than he had hoped. He answered the question at face value, "Our ship's counselor is doing well, Admiral."
"Really?" the doctor seemed surprised, "Because a high priority security report came to my attention stating that Counselor Deanna Troi is hosting, in her body, an unidentified entity that is maturing at an accelerated rate. So, the first thing that came to mind was a symbiont type entity, but this report doesn't go into detail." Picard's heart dropped out of concern for Troi.
Hudson continued, "So I cross checked for updates in her medical profile, and there it simply says that she's pregnant?" He asked, with a confused expression.
Picard took his cue, "It is what the reports state, yes. Counselor Troi is not hosting an unidentified entity, she is, in fact, pregnant with a child." he explained.
"Oh." The commodore looked even more confused now, "Well, that's good news I suppose, but," he glanced over at his data pad, "why does this report say that this supposed child is developing at an accelerated rate?"
"That is something we are actively investigating, Admiral, but in the meantime, Troi and her child are in good health." Picard did his best to sound nonchalant in the way that he addressed this highly unlikely situation. Hudson went quiet for a moment.
"I want access to Counselor Troi's medical records, your CMO's full report on this case, all the data you have gathered during the investigation, as well as Troi's personal report. I'm giving you eight hours, Captain."
"Acknowledged, Admiral." Picard saw no other course of action.
"And the results of all related medical analyses and exams done on Counselor Troi must be forwarded to me." Hudson added.
"Aye, Sir."
"You're not being very forthcoming with information about Troi's condition, Picard," the commodore accused, clasping his hands on his desk. "It worries me, and this supposed pregnancy is causing your security officer to worry as well."
Picard forced a calm demeanor. "My security officer is extremely competent, Admiral, but he tends to be, at times, overzealous in his concerns for the crew's safety."
Unsatisfied with Picard's platitudes, Hudson continued, "In any case, Captain, if it were to become necessary, I'm arranging to have a medical research vessel, the Watson, on standby to aid with Troi. They would take excellent care of her, she would be comfortable, and have top obstetricians attending the birth."
Picard put on his best poker face, "I don't think it will be necessary, Admiral, we can-"
The commodore cut him off, "This is a case of genetic manipulation by an unidentified alien entity. It is not to be taken lightly, Picard." the impatience was noticeable in his voice. "Cases like this have not turned out well in the past. It is imperative that we have the possibility of placing this symbiont in quarantine until we can identify it and define its purpose and intentions. Without more data, my colleagues and I do not feel comfortable allowing this being to roam free within the Enterprise. It is a situation best avoided."
Picard, deciding it was not wise to continue arguing, conceded. "I understand, Admiral. I just hope that taking my ship's counselor away doesn't become necessary."
"We'll see, Picard. Eight hours."
And with that the screen went quiet and back to displaying the Federation logo. The captain rested his elbows on his desk and rubbed his face in his hands. He took a long breath and leaned back in his chair. Next step was the briefing of his crew. Troi included.
The swoosh of the doors announced their arrival at a rather quiet sickbay. Only nurse Cate Foster and Doctor Crusher were there, organizing materials and chatting.
"Good morning, ladies." greeted Riker, and Troi echoed a greeting. The commander and the counselor walked into sickbay as Crusher and the nurse looked up and returned the greeting.
"I present the counselor of the Enterprise, Miss Deanna Troi, sporting her new 'bun in the oven' look." Riker announced.
Crusher noticed this as she approached them. Her eyes grew wide with a look of amazement. "No way! Look at you!" the doctor said, completely enthralled with Troi's new belly. "Cate, come here, look!" Crusher placed her hand on the counselor's barely protruding middle. Foster was already a few steps away, unable to stay on the sidelines of the excitement.
"Oh, Counselor, this is incredible!" she said as she reached Troi's side. "May I?" she asked for permission as she hovered her hand over the counselor's belly.
Troi nodded with a smile, "Of course."
Riker perched on the nearest biobed and watched the interaction.
"Overnight?" Crusher asked, while she and Cate marveled over the sudden change in Troi's body.
Troi nodded, "I woke up, and didn't even notice until Wi-" the counselor caught herself before revealing a little too much for comfort. She and Riker instinctively exchanged a swift glance that didn't go unnoticed by the doctor. "...until I got out of bed and Will pointed it out." Troi improvised as best she could.
"Aha." Crusher acknowledged as she looked from one to the other. She decided to leave that line of questioning for another time. "Well, it is certainly a pleasant surprise. I honestly did not expect this to happen so soon." she said shaking her head in wonderment. "So, what do you think, Cate? Second trimester, four or five months?" Crusher wagered.
"Looks like four months to me," said Foster as she visually inspected Deanna's frame.
"Let's find out." Crusher said to Troi with excited anticipation "The scanner is in the room." She motioned Troi over. "Are you staying for the scan, Commander?"
The question caught Riker off guard, and on top of that he had three women staring at him, waiting for his answer. His eyes darted from one to the other. "I'd love to stay but have to meet with the captain." he informed them.
"Just ask him to give you a few minutes. He won't mind." Troi tried to convince him. She had sensed that Crusher's invitation had startled him unexpectedly, and he had immediately brought up that weak excuse to leave. It was a disappointment.
Riker held on to his excuses, "I have a lot of work backed up, Deanna. I need to review reports with the captain, engineering schedules with Geordi..." he trailed off, hoping to have gotten his point across, glad that he was at least able to use the truth.
Troi sighed inwardly and let it go, not wanting to argue with him at that moment. Riker took the counselor's hands in his and squeezed gently. "I'll see you later?" he asked in hushed tone only for her, searching her gaze.
Troi nodded with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Riker smiled back and gave her a kiss on the cheek, then lifted her hands together and kissed them.
"Have a good day, Doctor, Cate." He said and was out the door.
"That was quite a surprise" Foster commented about the counselor's growing belly as she organized the workspace that Crusher had used during Troi's prenatal checkup.
"Surprised is what Deanna's going to be when I tell her that the baby is coming much sooner than we thought." Crusher said as she stored the scanner's sensors back in their compartment.
Foster chuckled. "I think it's kind of a relief, really. I worry about the hypoglycemia. If she has an episode in the wrong place at the wrong time..." she let the obvious remain unsaid.
"We have her on permanent link, Cate." Crusher explained, "The computer is aware of her location and state of consciousness at all times, and-"
"It's still dangerous. She could fall and hurt herself." Foster interrupted, "If her levels dip to quickly-"
Crusher continued, "I've configured a biolink bracelet for her to wear."
"Oh, that will help. Good idea, Doctor," the nurse said, feeling relieved.
Crusher finished shutting down the scanner and turned to the nurse, "Please send the counselor to my office."
A moment later, Troi exited the washroom where she had changed back into her clothing, and following the nurse's directions, the counselor entered Crusher's office..
"Take a seat," the doctor offered the doors swooshed shut behind Troi. She sat across from the doctor's desk.
"So, what's new?" asked Troi, already expecting something unexpected.
"First of all," Crusher began, "you are in perfect health, and so is the baby," she said with a sincere, reassuring smile. "Whatever is making this child grow so quickly is rubbing off on you, because your body is adapting to this pregnancy as it would to a normal one. It's baffling, really."
Troi nodded, smiling proudly. She was happy to hear that. Her expression amused the doctor, but then Crusher continued in a more serious tone, "But I'm worried about this episode you had yesterday evening." she leaned forward, resting her arms on her desk. "There's no way of knowing if or when it will happen again."
Troi lowered her gaze, not understanding the feeling of guilt that was surfacing. "What can I do to avoid that?" She thought back to the incident that almost left her unconscious, "I didn't see it coming until it was too late."
"I did and it escalated far too quickly. But we'll figure that out. In the meantime, I want you to wear this." Crusher lifted a bracelet out of the pocket of her smock. It was white and had a black panel on it. She walked around her desk and sat in the chair next to Troi's, and the counselor leaned in to get a closer look at the bracelet.
"It's a monitor," Troi observed aloud.
"That's right. It's a continuous monitor. It's more precise than the standard basic medical link we normally use on the ship. I've configured it to your vital signs and input all your averages, so it's tuned into your particular levels." Crusher explained. "When your levels change abruptly, it sounds an alarm in my receiver." Crusher activated the sound for Troi. It was a discreet beeping and vibration. Crusher motioned for Troi to extend her arm. When she did, the doctor fit the bracelet around her wrist. "A warning, though," Crusher said as Troi inspected the bracelet, "it may take about twenty-four hours to properly calibrate. Harmless spikes in heart rate may trigger the alarm until it recognizes your normal levels. So, be patient, please, and don't take it off." Crusher stressed.
"I won't." Troi said solemnly.
"Thank you, Deanna. We'll all sleep better because of that. And, last but not least, it has a panic button." Crusher pointed at the red line that was the button on the edge of the small, shiny panel. "If you're alone and something happens like if you feel an episode coming on, if you go into labor, if you can't get up off the sofa, anything, Deanna, press the button." Crusher instructed the counselor with more sternness in her voice than she intended. Troi just listened and nodded. She sensed the troubled emotions behind Crusher's tone.
"The nurse on call and I will hear the alarm." Crusher ended her instructions and paused to let everything sink in.
"Understood, Doctor, thank you for the precautions." Troi said in a lighter tone, but completely serious about it.
Crusher flashed a troubled smile, "We worry about you, Dee. We don't want anything happening to you. With this," she gestured at the bracelet on Troi's wrist, "at least we can all breathe a little easier knowing that help can reach you in case something does happen. That's why it's important that you don't take it off. Not even to shower. Especially not when you shower. It's waterproof and everything."
"I won't. I promise," the counselor reaffirmed. And judging from the switch Troi felt in the flow of Crusher's charged emotions, the doctor had passed from one worry to the next. There was clearly something else Crusher needed to tell her.
"What else?" Troi asked suddenly.
Crusher took a renewing breath and got ready to shift the conversation. "The last thing...is...ah," the doctor stumbled, haven't really thought of how she was going to tell Troi she was going to be a mother in just a few days. She reached for her data pad on her desk as a delay tactic.
"Beverly...", Troi tilted her head, slightly annoyed. That unwelcome feeling of foreboding coming back to her.
Crusher just looked at her with raised eyebrows.
"You're doing it again." Troi accused.
Crusher's shoulders dropped with a sigh. "You're right, sorry."
"You know, you scare me when you do that. It's like the feeling you'd get if you knew something was lurking around a dark corner. I wouldn't like that feeling." Troi confessed, crossing her arms.
Crusher looked up, apologetic. "No, I wouldn't either. I'm sorry, Deanna. It's just a pointless human habit."
"M hmm," Troi was done with Crusher's delaying tactics. "So, what is it?"
"Okay, so, remember when we said your pregnancy would last about three weeks?" the doctor helped the counselor recall.
Troi nodded slowly. "Yes," she confirmed, drawing out the word, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"Well, it's actually more like five to seven days," Crusher finally told her.
Troi's jaw dropped, and her eyes focused inward for a minute. Then, after the initial shock passed, the counselor looked down at her small, rounded belly, and covered it with her hand. It was very difficult to imagine that in just a few days it would be very much bigger, and that the baby inside it would be in her arms so soon.
"Days" the counselor repeated after the quiet moment, startling Crusher a little.
"Yes, days." the doctor confirmed.
Troi looked away, lost in thought, "Five to seven," she repeated to herself.
"Yes, five to seven," Crusher confirmed again, furrowing her brow.
Troi nodded slowly. "Five to seven days?" The counselor said again.
"Deanna!" Crusher exclaimed, annoyed and amused simultaneously. "Yes, you heard correctly. It's what I'm projecting based on recalculations with new data on rate of development. It hasn't been steady like we thought in the beginning. It fluctuates." the doctor clarified.
Don't panic. She tried to settle herself, but her instinctual response to fear got the better of her. Troi's heart started beating faster, and the rise and fall of her chest became more pronounced. And the sudden beeping startled her even more.
Without taking her eyes off the counselor, Crusher grabbed the receiver she had left on her desk. "You're okay, right?" Beverly, asked as she checked the data on the receiver. "I can see that you're panicking a little bit."
Troi crossed her arms over her chest once again, and gave the receiver in Beverly's hand, a piercing gaze. "And I can see that your little monitor is working like a charm."
Beverly took the comment at face value. "It is, but it's still too sensitive. I just marked this spike as 'within safe range' so that it factors it into your normal fluctuations. This might happen a few more times today until it starts running smoothly."
"I have a feeling it could get to be annoying." the counselor predicted.
"You mean having someone know what you're feeling based on your physical and biochemical reactions? Because I know someone who can do that with her empathic sense, but I'm not sure what would happen if someone called her annoying." Crusher said, tongue-in-cheek, intentionally mumbling the last part.
Troi rolled her eyes.
Crusher grinned smugly.
"It's still annoying!" Troi threw in, just to have the last word.
Beverly smiled and checked her receiver again. "I sense you're calmer now." she told Troi, playfully mocking her.
"Okay, Beverly, point taken." Deanna admitted, hoping Beverly would drop it. "You've got your new powers and you can't wait to wield them. And I get to be the lucky one."
Crusher dropped her hand holding the receiver onto her lap and softened her tone. "Are you okay, Deanna?" she asked calmly, "About the new timeframe?"
The counselor stared for a moment at her clasped hands around her belly. "It's so soon..." she shook her head, "and there's nothing I can do about it. I'm just...at the mercy of whatever is happening to me." Troi rubbed her belly. "I mean, it's not like I had nine or ten months to begin with, but one week?" She went quiet for a moment, grateful for the sympathetic ear that Crusher was patiently offering. "I thought about…what Data suggested, about how it offended me so much. It's that…if I decide to remove him and put him in an incubator, and something were to happen to him because I made that choice…I couldn't live with myself. If nothing is wrong with him or with me, then the decision to remove him would be a purely selfish one. I can't do that, Beverly, and…" Toi hesitated, "I'm afraid of what Starfleet would do if he were in an incubator"
Thoughts crossed her mind about her baby being taken away to be incubated in a lab and birthed by a machine. Tears welled in her eyes.
"You know, I can sense his consciousness."
"You can communicate with him?" Crusher asked with genuine curiosity.
"Not exactly. It's more like an empathic awareness of him. I also recognize in him that conscious being that was in my bedroom that night."
Counselor and Doctor locked eyes for a moment.
"Is it him?" Crusher asked. Troi nodded.
"What do you sense from him?" The doctor's curiosity was piqued.
The counselor's gaze turned inward while she took a moment to interpret her insights.
"A consciousness, just like any humanoid like you and me, inside the mind of an unborn baby, appropriate to its stage of development."
"Just a baby" Crusher summarized in three simple words.
"Just a baby" Troi echoed.
They sat in silence for a minute, digesting the new information until Troi placed her hands back on her round belly. "A baby that's going to grow to full term in a week. How can my body handle that, Beverly?"
Taking Troi's hand in hers, Crusher placed her other hand on the counselor's belly. "Deanna, you're doing great so far." she reassured the counselor, "But if things get critical, I've already told you, I will do whatever is necessary to preserve your wellbeing. You don't have to carry this baby to term if it means you're going to end up paying for it with your health, or your life. It's not worth it." Crusher spoke the truth candidly with her friend and patient. "You know we can safely remove him from you without harming either of you. It's a delicate procedure, but it can be done. You don't need to worry."
Troi gave Crusher a grateful smile, but a dose of fear was still lurking in her heart.
The doctor's badge chirped, and the nurse's voice came through reminding her of a scheduled briefing with the medical staff. "Thank you, Cate, I'm just finishing up with Counselor Troi's. It'll be there in a few." she informed her. When the communication ended, Crusher returned her attention to Troi, "Duty calls. Will you be okay?" she asked her friend.
The counselor nodded.
"Is Will keeping watch tonight?" The doctor asked for confirmation.
Troi nodded again, "Yes."
Crusher's eyes narrowed when she remembered earlier. "I asked will to help because I know you two are comfortable with each other. Before this I wasn't sure how comfortable, but I guess I know now." She gave the counselor a sly look. "Anyway, given your current condition I was hoping the two of you would exercise some restraint. Can I trust you on that?"
Troi recrossed her legs, returned Crusher's gaze but remained silent. When no answer came forth, the doctor conceded. "Fine. I don't know what kind of arrangement you two have, but I'm counting on your good judgement." Crusher eyed the counselor with suspicion. "So, what's your schedule for today?" she asked as she got her things ready for the briefing with her staff. She wanted to know where Troi would be, just in case.
"From here, I'm going to the arboretum to meet with Professor Holland to discuss the arrangements for the middle school botanical projects. Then I have two patients, and then lunch. I'll spend the rest of the afternoon working either in my office or in my quarters, unless the captain needs me on the bridge."
"Good. The captain was worried you wouldn't feel well enough to carry on with your duties, so this will be good news for him." The doctor motioned for Deanna to walk out with her, and the two women stepped out of Crushers office, going their separate ways.
It was, quite literally, like stepping into an alternate reality. The air was fresh, the sky was blue, there were birds chirping in the trees, and butterflies gliding from flower to flower. It always amazed Deanna to think that she was still on the Enterprise when she came to the arboretum.
She followed the trail that led to the greenhouse where Professor Holland, or Clara, as she preferred to be called, had told her to meet. She and Clara, who was in her mid-forties, had become friends since her arrival on the Enterprise several months ago, to manage the ship's organic resources. But ever since the professor had taken the role of Biological Science teacher to the older children in the Enterprise's academic program, their friendship had grown.
The gravel trail crunching under every footstep was a satisfying sensation, after walking day in and day out on the level, bland floor of the rest of the ship.
As she walked, Deanna pictured her baby boy toddling around the gardens, throwing pebbles, and marveling at the birds and butterflies. The counselor made it a personal promise to bring him here every day if possible.
Catching a glimpse of Professor Holland inside the greenhouse, Troi called out to her once she was close enough, "Clara?"
The professor looked up from her task. "Deanna, come on in. You're just in time to help me move some sprouter trays."
"What are you working on?" The counselor had been growing more interested in Clara's work in the gardens. Digging her hands in dirt was something so far from what Troi was used to, that watching the professor work and enjoy it so much, had started to draw her curiosity.
"Oh, something very special." Clara eyes sparkled, "I brought some heirloom seeds from my latest visit to Earth, and I just planted the tomatoes." She spoke with as much enthusiasm as LaForge when he talked about his engines. "Help me move this tray onto the rack over there. Then you can help me plant the peppers." Clara's enthusiasm was contagious. Taking one side of what looked like a giant cupcake baking pan, the older woman instructed, "Take that side. It's not heavy."
When Deanna stepped forward against the wide sprouter tray, her round belly became noticeable when her sweater was pulled tighter against it.
The professor did a double take. The sudden difference in the counselor's appearance taking her by surprise. Both women locked eyes for an instant, Clara's held a sly look of suspicion. Troi, mildly embarrassed, looked down at herself and put a hand on her belly. The absurdity of the situation put a smile on her face. At that moment, the counselor decided to just go with it. There would certainly be more moments like this one during the following days, and even more so as her pregnancy progressed quicker than anyone ever witnessed. She might as well just take it in stride. By the next couple of days, it would be ship-wide knowledge, she predicted. Then the baby would arrive and fascinate everyone, as new babies often do. Troi covered her belly with a hand and confirmed Holland's suspicion with a look.
Clara's jaw fell wide open. "Are you serious?" she was incredulous. The counselor had not hinted at anything at all during her recent visits.
Troi nodded.
"Oh, Deanna, congratulations!" Holland circled the table and hugged the counselor, careful not to muddy her clothes with her hands. "That's wonderful news!"
"Thank you, Clara." Deanna returned the hug.
"How come you didn't say anything?"
"Well," the whole chain of events flashed across the counselor's mind, "that's because I didn't know."
Holland's eyebrows furrowed.
"I saw you the day before yesterday and you were...I mean, you didn't look..." she shook her head, confused.
"That's because, a few days ago, I wasn't pregnant," Troi stated factually. She could sense from Clara, and see in her expression, the cogs turning in her head. The professor was more confused now than before. "It was very unexpected, to say the least."
"How is it possible, though? You weren't pregnant a few days ago, but now you're showing." Holland kept shaking her head in disbelief.
Troi looked around and found a high stool to sit on, grateful for the opportunity to talk to someone who just wanted to listen, and who wasn't worrying about her health or the safety of the ship. "I'll tell you how it happened, but I still can't believe it myself."
"Tea, Earl Grey, hot." Picard stated his order as he observed his lionfish lazily swim about. He heard the characteristic sound of the replicator and went to fetch his cup of tea, then sank back down in his comfortable chair. Picard sipped his tea then held the cup on its plate with one hand and tapped his badge with the other. "Picard to Commander Riker, please report to my ready room."
"Aye, Sir." came the commander's voice in response.
The captain then summoned Crusher. He reread the message he had just received containing the bullet points from his previous communication with Hudson.
Picard clicked off his screen and went back to sipping his tea while his mind juggled his preoccupations.
Riker didn't trust himself to say anything just yet. His jaw clenched tightly. He was afraid, he was worried, he was pissed off. He hated feeling like this.
"How far away is the medical research vessel?" Asked Crusher, her anxiety revealed in her tone.
The captain checked the console on his desk for the data he had requested just minutes before. "The Watson could be here in approximately fourteen hours at maximum warp."
"But they haven't confirmed anything yet?" the doctor asked.
"No, and I don't believe they will until Admiral Hudson and his team have reviewed the information they requested." stated the captain.
"Okay, well...big news," Crusher said, in a halfhearted attempt to change the mood. "The baby will be here within a week."
Riker emerged from his funk, and Picard stared at Crusher with raised eyebrows. The doctor glanced from one to the other.
The captain blinked out of his surprise, "But you said three weeks in the initial briefing," he recalled.
"Yes, well, based on just a few hours of data. There was no way I could have predicted this growth acceleration with what we had learned about its development during the first twenty-four hours." Crusher explained.
They remained quietly in thought for a moment until Riker interrupted the silence. "How did she take the news?" he asked Crusher, his voice tinted with concern.
The doctor exhaled, "She was worried. Afraid that it was too fast for her body to withstand."
"Is it, though? Is she going to be okay?" Riker asked impatiently.
"She's going to be okay, Will," Crusher stated with conviction. "One way or the other, I'm not going to let her risk her health or her life."
"Doctor, Number One, this is precisely why I briefed you before the counselor. I wanted the space for first impressions, to discuss freely and rationally, without censoring ourselves for fear of upsetting her. When we are finished, I will summon Counselor Troi and we will be calm and supportive." Picard glanced from one of his officers to the other, waiting for acknowledgment.
"Of course, Captain." said Crusher.
"She won't like this, Captain." stated Riker.
"There will be many things the counselor will not like, Number One, but at least we can prepare for them. Now, this turn of events, from three weeks to one, may urge Admiral Hudson to take preemptive action, I'm afraid. I don't see them sitting around waiting for something to happen."
Riker shifted in his place on the sofa. "There has to be something we can do to keep them from admitting her to a medical vessel."
"Let's not jump to conclusions, Number One. They don't have all the information they need in order to make decisions regarding the counselor," stated the captain, in an effort to maintain a calm and rational atmosphere.
"But if they do, we have to find a way to stall. We can even ignore orders. Once they see there's no danger-" Riker said as if it was the best idea yet proposed.
"We will not ignore orders, Number One." Picard interrupted, "We will negotiate, we will stall, but defying clear and direct orders from Starfleet is not a wise strategy."
"Sir, what if they order Deanna to-" Riker insisted.
"If they issue orders to Counselor Troi, then she will have to obey those orders."
Riker couldn't let it go. "Captain, she-"
"Commander," Picard interrupted more forcefully, "whatever course of action Starfleet decides to take regarding Counselor Troi, -a Starfleet officer- she will be cared for and treated with dignity. This is Starfleet we are talking about. And as much as it would sadden me to see her go at a moment like this, I would be reassured that she would be in the best hands, and that she would return to us soon."
Riker's jaw clenched as he listened to the captain's very reasonable words. Noting the tension building, and the captain reaching the limit of his patience, Crusher chimed in with the most helpful idea she could think of. "I can find out if I know someone on the Watson. I could pull some strings and get inside information on Troi's progress," she offered.
The captain nodded, "Thank you, Doctor. I would like to point out that we are getting ahead of ourselves by assuming scenarios that have not been confirmed. Now, having had our opportunity for discussion, I believe that informing the counselor is in order. Now that she will have knowledge of Starfleet's intentions, I want you to offer support, not defiance." The captain's final words were explicitly aimed at Riker.
"Of course, Captain," acknowledged the doctor.
The commander nodded. "Aye, Sir," he said, with a little less conviction.
"You two have already been briefed about this." Troi aimed the statement at Crusher and Riker, feeling somewhat betrayed. Even before she had entered the captain's ready room, she had already felt the tense atmosphere inside. Commander and Doctor nodded.
Picard, noticing Troi's thinly-veiled indignation, hurried to explain. "Counselor, this is a sensitive subject for everyone, and we did not wish to burden you with the emotional load of our first impressions."
"Thank you for your noble intentions, Captain, but I don't appreciate being the last to know about news concerning myself," the counselor argued.
"I'm sorry that you feel that way, Counselor, but I believe that it was the best course of action in this present context," Picard stated, unflinching.
Troi sensed that their intentions were in the right place, but still...Yet she decided to let it go. There was this comm from Starfleet Medical that the captain had just informed her about, and it was raising alarms in her mind.
The view screen on the captain's coffee table flashed the Federation logo once again, and he swiveled it back towards himself. Troi reclined back into her spot on the sofa with her arms crossed, jaw clenched, and her gaze fixed on a random spot on the captain's desk, while she dealt with the emotions generated by the conversation she had just heard. The room was quiet for an extended moment.
"It was Worf who sent that security report, wasn't it?" The counselor abruptly broke the silence. The security officer's attitude towards the counselor's unorthodox pregnancy had been one of suspicion from the very beginning. Troi projected the appearance of calm while murderous instincts that she didn't know she had, bubbled below the surface. It was frightening.
"It has Worf's ID." stated Riker, checking his data pad. The counselor felt the bubbling quickly turn into a hard boil. She felt her heart beat faster and heat rising in her core. A soft beeping and buzzing immediately followed. The three officers turned towards the doctor with looks of confusion, except Troi. She just glared at Beverly's pocket. The doctor deactivated the alarm without saying a word.
"Counselor," the captain drew her attention, "you will write the report the commodore requested." It came out sounding like something between a question and an order.
"I suppose I have no choice." She replied.
"Deanna, use this as your opportunity to sway any doubts or misconceptions they might have. It may make a difference in their decisions." Picard encouraged her.
"Have they said what they plan on doing?" Troi asked.
"That's all the information they've given us, Counselor. Anything beyond that is pure speculation," stated the captain. Troi dropped her head into her hands for a moment to regain composure. It was getting difficult to stay calm. Riker, who had been quiet for the most part, finally lent his voice.
"Deanna, we will fight for you every step of the way. Whatever happens, we will prove to Starfleet that we can give you and the baby the best care and supervision right here on the Enterprise, your home." He reassured her.
Troi wished that Riker's words could have put her mind at ease, but they were not having that effect. In fact, what she was sensing from all three of her companions, very similar emotions from each one, was leading her to believe that something inevitable was about to happen. Something that none of them wanted to have to think about. After briefly reading each one of her crew mates, Troi confronted them. "All of you thinking the same thing," Troi said sharply. "You've agreed to something that you're not telling me. When are you going to learn not to do that with me? I can see right through you." Remembering protocol, she added, "No offense, Captain."
Picard answered with a tight grin, "None taken, Counselor."
"So, what is it? What worries you so much?" she insisted, beginning to feel a nagging anxiety.
The captain leaned towards her with clasped hands. "What Commander Riker said is absolutely accurate. We will stand by you and support you all the way, Deanna. However, if Starfleet Medical should choose to interfere, we may openly disagree with their decisions, but what we will not do is defy orders." He paused for a moment to let that sink in. "Do you understand, Counselor?" the captain waited for confirmation.
Troi held a slight frown as she listened to the captain. "I'm not sure, Captain, what kind of orders are we talking about?"
Picard shifted in his chair. "The kind that would take you away to spend the remainder of your pregnancy on a medical vessel," he stated.
Anxiety started to creep in. Would some Starfleet bureaucrat force her to give birth to her baby somewhere far from home? Could they take him away from her? Put them in quarantine? Put him in quarantine, alone, without her? Any scenario that came to mind was intolerable to consider. Why couldn't she be left alone? This pregnancy, by itself, was enough on her plate. Her life would never be the same after this. Why did they have to turn it into a nightmare? It was getting hard to breathe. Sitting in that sofa suddenly became unbearable. Troi stood and made her way to the view port but before she could get there, she felt a void in the pit of her stomach and her vision begin to blur. The receiver went off again inside the doctor's pocket. The counselor managed to grab onto the edge of the captain's desk and perch against it before she lost her balance. Her eyes closed instinctively against the vertigo.
"For the love of the four deities, Beverly, would you shut that thing off?" she demanded harshly.
"Take it easy, Deanna, you're going to make it worse." Crusher approached the counselor and took a hypo spray from her pocket, administering the medication. Commander and Captain were by their side ready to help. The doctor motioned to Picard to bring his chair closer. "Will, help her into the chair," she instructed.
In an effort to help, Riker placed his hand on Troi's shoulder, but she lifted her arm abruptly, blocking his hand and shoving it away.
"I don't need help," the counselor stated more harshly than she felt was appropriate. But what really angered her was that she actually did need help. Help she didn't want. Riker, taken aback, left his hand hovering right where the counselor had pushed it away. He and Crusher were left exchanging glances, unsure of what to do.
Picard decided this was the right moment give Troi some space with the two people with whom she felt most comfortable. He went to the counselor's side and covered one of her hands with his, leaning in close to her and speaking softly, "Deanna, we're on your side. We are family, and we will do everything in our power to keep you home." He spoke with the utmost care. "I'll leave you with Beverly and Will. Take all the time you need." The captain stood up straight and tugged on his uniform. "I'll be on the bridge." And nodding to his officers, headed out to command his ship.
Crusher, understanding the captain's motives, nodded in support. The doors slid shut, leaving Riker and Crusher standing at either side of the counselor. The doctor crossed her arms and exhaled deeply. "Deanna, would you mind getting in the chair?" she asked the counselor, like a mother annoyed by a child's defiance.
"Just give me a minute, I'll be fine." was Troi's forceful reply.
Crusher just looked at her for a moment, perched against the edge of the captain's desk, holding on to either side, her head bent, eyes closed, just barely rocking back and forth, and breathing steadily. Then the doctor made her way to the replicator.
Left standing beside Troi, the commander moved in closer and perched beside her on the edge of the desk, much like she was. Their proximity left no space between them, and when Troi didn't move away, he nudged her gently. "Do I at least get to hug you?" Riker almost whispered close to her ear. In response, Troi leaned into him and relaxed into his embrace.
Crusher walked back to the counselor. "Deanna?" she said, and when the counselor opened her eyes halfway, the doctor took her hand, turned it palm up and placed a cereal bar in it. "You need to eat this." she ordered as gently as possible. Then she stepped back and ran a tricorder along Troi's frame. Nodding at the data on the screen, Crusher gave Riker a thumbs up. Whatever he was doing was apparently helping Troi calm down. The counselor swallowed the bite she had been chewing while she rested her head on Riker's chest, and he rubbed her back in slow circles.
"I know what you're doing. You're conspiring to make me feel better," she voiced her suspicions, feeling some energy returning.
"It's working," Crusher confirmed with a pleased smile.
Troi finished the cereal bar and wiped her hands together. "I need to talk to Worf," she said, beginning to push herself away from the desk.
"You're not going anywhere just yet." With a hand on the counselor's shoulder, the doctor gently blocked her attempt to stand. "Unless it's sickbay."
"But I feel better," the counselor argued.
"Feeling better is not the same as well enough."
"Well, what are your senses telling you, Doctor?" Troi motioned with her head towards the doctor's coat pocket, her humor acquiring a sarcastic tone.
Crusher smiled, recognizing that as confirmation that her friend was in fact feeling better. She pulled the receiver out of her pocket. "It says you're leveling out, but not quite there yet."
Troi pinched the bridge of her nose and released a deep sigh. She looked down at her belly rounding out the front of her black jumper. "Is he okay?" She asked unexpectedly.
"Baby is fine," Crusher confirmed reassuringly. "He doesn't seem to be affected by these episodes."
Riker squeezed her a little tighter against him. "Maybe if you eat another one of those cereal bars..." he offered the idea in an effort to be helpful.
"Here." The doctor handed Troi another bar from her pocket. "It will help, but it's not the solution. You have to eat more meals during the day, in smaller portions," she instructed. "Keep your blood glucose levels elevated. These are symptoms of hypoglycemia that, I suspect, are caused by the baby consuming the energy it needs to grow so quickly."
Troi swallowed the bite she was chewing. "Thank you, Doctor, I will take that into consideration. Now I need to talk to Lieutenant Worf."
Riker shared a look with Crusher that didn't go unsensed by the counselor. But she didn't need to see the look they shared to know what they were thinking. "Yes, I'm being obstinate. What does it matter to you? I need to speak with him. I'm allowed, aren't I?" Her attitude was not sitting well with her companions.
"About what?" asked Riker, pretending he didn't already know.
"I have questions about his report," the counselor revealed.
"Okay, but what is that going to change, Deanna?" The commander was becoming more annoyed by the second with the Troi's attitude.
"That's not the point. I just need answers. Peace of mind," she insisted. Another glance of shared frustration passed between Riker and Crusher.
"Ugh!" Troi huffed. "You two are unbearable right now." She pushed herself away from the desk, careful not to move too fast.
Crusher chose to remain silent. She knew the counselor well enough to know when it was pointless to argue with her. She also knew her well enough to trust that she would come to her senses sooner, rather than later. The doctor just watched Troi as she stood tall and gathered her balance. Crusher flipped her tricorder open and quietly scanned the counselor. Her blood glucose was at a safe level and rising, which was good for now, but she would have to get Troi to follow a strict meal regimen to keep those levels high enough throughout the day.
"So," Troi asked, "Well enough?"
The doctor looked up from her tricorder. "For now, yes."
"Good. So, I'm free to go, I assume." Not waiting for a reply from Crusher, Troi headed for the door. But before the counselor passed by her, the doctor stopped her with a hand on her arm.
"Deanna,"
Troi stopped mid-step.
"Come by my office after lunch." Crusher was being kind, but not bothering with niceties, trusting that Troi could decipher her state of mind well enough to know why.
The counselor resumed her path towards the door, but Crusher held her back, not letting go of her arm. She needed an acknowledgment from her. "Counselor," Crusher searched her eyes, "I will see you in sickbay this afternoon?"
Troi exhaled. "Yes." She looked down at Crusher's hand on her arm, then up at the doctor with a raised eyebrow. "Can I go now?"
Crusher let go of her arm, and with a swish of the doors, Troi left the captain's ready room.
"She'll be there," the commander reassured the doctor.
Crusher shook her head, "Exceptional psychologist, empath, but sometimes..."
"I know...I know." Riker knew exactly what was being left unsaid.
Troi walked in without bothering to greet him. Worf followed her with his gaze. His honed visual sense instantly noticed the rounded-out front of her jumper, of a style that fit more loosely than her regular clothing usually did. It wasn't conspicuous. If you were didn't know, you could easily miss it. "What can I do for you, Counselor?" He asked formally as she walked towards his desk.
"Starfleet has a medical research vessel on standby to take me away from the Enterprise. Did you recommend that in your report?"
"I reported about the unusual circumstances surrounding your pregnancy, Counselor. I did not recommend anything beyond more careful observation of your condition, and of the being you are hosting."
Troi hung her head and sighed. "It's not-" the counselor composed herself before her gut reaction got the best of her. Bringing her attention back to Worf. "You make it sound as if I were hiding an unwelcome guest in my quarters. This is a baby, Worf. It's my blood, my genes. I'm pregnant with my baby, not hosting a life form. Why would you want extra attention from Starfleet?"
Worf listened with a furrowed brow. "I could not leave this unreported, Counselor. Physically, yes, it shares your genetic structure, but the catalyst of your pregnancy is still unknown. Whatever has the capability of manipulating genetic material in this manner requires more scrutiny."
Troi looked off to the side, feeling cornered.
"It is for your safety, especially, Counselor." he added, softening his gruff voice in an effort to be more empathetic towards the gentle counselor.
Troi held him in a deep gaze for a moment. She read Worf. He was calm and self-assured, confident in his choice of actions. She then averted her eyes in thought. Her frustration was still getting the better of her, and it made her hands fidget while trying to think of a way to justify her objections to the content of Worf's security report. Starting to feel strain in her legs she took a seat in one of the chairs across from his desk.
Having waited long enough for a comment from the counselor, Worf leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, "Reports have to be sent regularly. You know that, Counselor. Starfleet would have figured it out sooner or later. What would you have suggested differently?"
"Ideally, not mentioning my pregnancy at all, but seeing that it's unrealistic, you could have at least left the report as unprioritized. The captain told me that all the reports that he approved about this case were left as regular priority. I wonder how this one got through." Troi didn't hide her suspicion.
"I objected to the captain's lack of urgency towards the matter. I prioritized that report because he would not." Worf confessed proudly.
"You connected the dots for them!" She felt trapped. With no way out in sight, she felt helpless, which made her fearful, which made her angry, which made it just impossible to control her outburst. "If you had just left things as they were, if you had just let the captain deal with the ship's priorities, maybe the bureaucrats at Starfleet wouldn't be at my heels!" She paused to catch her breath.
"Counselor," Worf interjected with force, "with all due respect, you're being irrational." Dealing with emotional outbursts often gave him headaches.
"Worf!" Deanna cried in disbelief at his attitude, "They want to take me away! They want me to have my baby in a medical research vessel!" She desperately reached for his humanity. "And on top of that, I'm left wondering what it is they intend to do with my son once he's born. I can't bear to consider any of the possibilities." The intensity in her words gradually faded as tears welled in her eyes. "It scares me." Troi placed a hand on her belly, her protective instinct kicking in. "The Enterprise is my home. My family is here. It's my anchor through all of this. Is it irrational to be afraid of being taken away when what I need most is right here? He's just a baby, Worf, what are you so afraid of?" Deanna felt sad, spent, weary. She couldn't tell if it was emotional or physical. Maybe both.
Worf just watched her. She had asked him what he was afraid of. This was Counselor Troi, savior of the crew's sanity, the captain's advisor, the Enterprise's secret weapon on diplomatic missions. She was his crewmate and friend.
"I see the baby is growing," he diverted the subject, gesturing with a nod towards Troi's rounded middle.
The counselor reacted to his comment with a barely a tired smile. Her hand still covered the delicate curve beneath her jumper, and as she looked down at herself, Troi recognized that this conversation was going nowhere. Riker knew that when he confronted her about it in the ready room, and not so deep down she knew it too. "You know what? Forget it." The counselor abruptly changed course. The more she argued, the more it felt like she was kicking a wall. "I have a report to write. I'm sorry for wasting your time." She rose from the chair but never managed to complete the motion, because her vision started to blur again along with the feeling of vertigo.
"Damn this." Deanna muttered under her breath as she slumped back down into the chair.
"Are you all right, Counselor?" asked Worf.
"Just a little faint. Give me a minute, I'll be fine." She propped her head in her hand and closed her eyes against the vertigo.
Worf huffed and went to the replicator. After his order materialized, he walked over to Troi and crouched beside her. "Here," he said as gently as his gruff voice would allow, "Humans like this. The sugars in it will help you." Worf held up a glass out to her. He had read Crusher's memo about Troi's episodes of hypoglycemia, and what to do about them. He also knew the doctor would be alerted of this one, so he expected to hear her voice at any moment now.
"Thank you." Devoid of energy, Troi took the glass with a shaky hand.
"Both hands, Counselor." Worf ordered, noticing the faint trembling.
Troi did as instructed and took a sip of the orange juice. The tangy, sweet taste of the liquid refreshing her throat woke her up a bit.
"More." Worf ordered again after she took only one sip.
Troi drank half the content of the glass and rested her hands holding it on her lap.
"You should feel better in a couple of minutes. Drink all of it." he said, approaching the situation with his usual pragmatic attitude.
It sounded as if he was ordering her around, but what she sensed from him was concern, and even a degree of affection. Worf's attentiveness towards Troi only reaffirmed what she sensed from him.
"Crusher to Counselor Troi." came Beverly's voice through the ship's comm.
The counselor tapped her badge, "Troi here."
"Please report to sickbay immediately. Are you with Lieutenant Worf?" Crusher's impatience was easily detected.
"Yes."
"Counselor Troi is with me, Doctor. I will escort her to sickbay." Worf said without missing a beat.
"Thank you, Lieutenant. Please replicate a cereal bar for her to eat on the way here." the doctor instructed. Then her tone changed, "That's two episodes in less than one hour, Counselor. Not good. Crusher out."
"Ugh" the counselor grumbled, "Another cereal bar. I don't think I can swallow a third one."
Worf, in an uncharacteristic move that surprised Troi, covered her hand with his. She reacted with a wide-eyed, questioning look.
Worf grumbled, "You asked me what I was afraid of. This is what I am afraid of."
Troi never expected him to answer her question, but there it was. And it was true. Her momentarily impaired condition blurred her senses, but the one emotion she could identify more clearly from Worf, was fear. Fear for her. This time, she rested her other hand on his forearm. A second later Worf was on his feet, heading to the replicator. He hesitated for an instant, then manually searched for alternatives to the cereal bar before selecting his order. When his order materialized, he grabbed it and went back to his position beside the counselor.
She held out a hand to take the cereal bar that she was feeling obligated to eat, but instead a chocolate bar appeared in front her. She smiled. Worf's gesture warmed her heart. Maybe it was a peace offering. Maybe he did it just to help her feel better. It didn't matter. What she saw, and perceived, was kindness. Worf's humanity breaking through. She graciously took the chocolate he offered and awarded him a warm smile that reached her eyes. "Thank you, Worf."
Worf nodded in response. He allowed the exchange to go on for only a couple of seconds before standing up, extending a hand to Troi. "We should go. Doctor Crusher is waiting."