When Troi awoke, a dull gray light filtered through the crack in the curtains. She lifted her head from Riker's unclothed chest, a sheen of sweat left behind from the press of her cheek. Her imzadi's mind was far away, wrapped in slumber, but still his hand rested on the small of her back to hold her close. Raindrops pattered against the window, fogging the glass. The Drums had begun their ancient song.
Imzadi… She tugged gently on his thoughts. He stirred once, then lay still again. Imzadi, it is time. Wake up.
His hand drifted up her back to rub the sleep from his eyes. "Morning already?" he yawned.
"Almost. We should get going."
"Yeah, we should." He swept her long, dark hair across her back. "I'm looking forward to finishing this mission. Then we can get on with our other plans."
"You mean the wedding?"
"I mean the honeymoon." A smirk hid in the corner of his mouth. He sat up just enough to reach her lips, taking his time once he got there.
She smiled as their kiss drew to an end. "Well, I hope you weren't planning on a lot of sight-seeing."
The smirk leapt full across his face. "I wasn't even planning on leaving the room!" He pulled her down for another kiss, which turned into several.
"Alright, alright," Troi laughed, breaking away. "That's enough of that. We aren't alone, remember." Peaceful waves from Carmen's sleep broke gently against the shores of her Betazoid mind. The young woman had come in late last night. Thinking Riker and Troi were asleep already, she curled up on the couch without a word. Yet Troi could feel the heaviness of her heart. She hovered, hidden, over Carmen's thoughts in case the nightmares should return. But they never did.
"Oh yeah," Riker said, shifting his gaze to the darkened archway. "I'll bet she's looking forward to being done with this mission, too."
"Actually, I don't think so." Something bittersweet laced Troi's smile.
Riker glanced at her quizzically. "What are you talking about? You know how Carmen is-all work and no play. Unless drinking is involved. Those kids have been driving her up the wall."
"That may be, but she's still a child herself in many ways. She just hasn't been allowed to act like one. "
Riker nodded slowly. It was easy for him to forget. There was an adult expression of grief behind her eyes, and it weighed far more than a child should be able to carry, even one as old as nineteen. Yet she kept herself at a distance, reluctant to be coddled or nurtured in any way. Perhaps he had been too hard on her, expecting her to behave like himself, like a commander. He had encouraged her overdeveloped sense of duty without even considering her other needs.
The familiar, jagged edge of self-doubt grated against his mind. Troi felt it, too. She sat up, looking down at him with concerned, counselor's eyes. "What is it, imzadi?"
"Nothing. Just, sometimes I wonder how different I really am from my father. He never let me be a kid, either."
"William." She smiled at him with a gently reproachful look. "You're nothing like him."
"Yeah well, we're going to have to postpone this counseling session." He sat up as well, throwing the covers back as if to bury the issue. "We have a long hike ahead of us."
Troi's look changed into something less gentle and more reproachful. But she knew he was right; it wasn't the time. His inner turmoil about fatherhood reached even further back than Carmen's arrival. With a sigh of resignation, she picked up their clothes.
As they were both dressing, a loud and sudden crack in the sky shook the roof of their dwelling. Troi's heart nearly leapt out of her chest. Echoes of the crack rumbled into the distance and the sound became a familiar one. Thunder. The Drums.
"Mom? Dad!"
Carmen had jolted awake. And for a moment, it was not so difficult to remember she was just a child. Troi raced to her side and took hold of her hands. "It's alright. The storm is breaking, that's all."
"The storm?" Carmen blinked several times, still wading through the fog of sleep.
"The Drums, remember?" Riker lit a lamp, illuminating the small room. Carmen finally came to her senses, a small, sheepish grin on her face at the unwonted outburst of fear.
"The Drums, yeah. I guess it's time to go?"
"Correct." As Riker turned to finish packing their belongings, he paused for a moment. A brief look of disappointment flashed across her face. So Deanna was right. "Hey, Carmen?"
"Hmm?" She hurriedly tucked her disappointment out of sight.
Go on, Troi encouraged, sending him a knowing smile. I'll finish the packing.
As the counselor got up from the couch, Riker took her place. Carmen shifted uncomfortably, worried that she was due for a lecture. "Is this about last night? Look, I know I shouldn't have had anything to drink, but-"
"What was that game Tarron mentioned? Glugg?" he asked.
She squinted at him, caught off-guard by the tone of his voice, which wasn't at all stern like she had expected. "Uh, yeah. Glugg."
"How do you play?"
"Well...someone spins a coin, and the others have to finish their pint before the coin falls."
Riker made a balking sort of chuckle. "You didn't know that Vakronians have a naturally higher threshold, did you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Alcohol doesn't affect them as easily as it affects us. Because of this, their drinks are a lot stronger."
"Phew! I thought I was losing my touch!"
Riker chuckled again, shaking his head all the while. "Just...take my advice next time. By the way, did you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Finish a whole pint before the coin fell?"
A devious grin spread across her face. "Sure did! Beat Davar by a couple of seconds, too."
Riker glanced towards the bedroom, then leaned closer to the young woman. "That's my girl," he said, proudly but quietly so that Troi wouldn't overhear him. Carmen revelled in his praise nevertheless.
"I really am sorry, you know," she felt compelled to say. "I hope I didn't ruin anything."
"Nah, I don't think we could have learned much from old Camus anyway. He was just a rambling old man."
"Mom said he mentioned the Grolese. That Elion's partner had been asking him about it?"
Riker shrugged it off. "Yeah well, maybe Durand had a personal interest in wildlife. Who knows."
"I asked Jora about the Grolese. She said it lives on Shadow Ridge." The young woman pulled a slip of paper off a nearby side table. As she unfolded it, Riker could see that it was the sketch of a winged creature, presumably the Grolese. "The Romulans are on that ridge somewhere, too. It has to be connected."
"Maybe. Maybe not. Did you draw that?"
"Me? No. Jora did this." Her eyes wandered over the paper, softening with a rare note of tenderness. It softened Riker's own gaze.
"You're going to miss her, aren't you?"
"I'll be fine," she replied quickly, folding up the paper and setting it back on the table. "Besides, we have a mission to do. Come on, let's get going."
"Carmen, wait…" He pulled her back down as she tried to get up. She stared at him, confused (and a little cross). Another peal of thunder split the sky overhead. The walls quivered. "It's okay, you know," Riker began, feeling a little underprepared for a lecture of this kind. Especially with his own father's shortcomings so fresh in his mind. He cleared his throat and continued. "It's okay to...get attached. Missions aren't always straightforward. Sometimes, it's the stuff that doesn't make it into the reports that stick with us the most."
She bit down on her lip, and he could tell that his words had struck a chord. This was usually when she retreated, throwing up walls like duty and honor and responsibility. But to his surprise, she stayed. "Did you ever...well, did you ever have a hard time leaving someplace?"
He put an arm around her shoulders, the gesture an instinctive answer to the silent plea in her eye, a plea for reassurance that she was not weak for having conflicted emotions. Or having emotions at all. "Sure I have. I've fallen in love plenty of times. Not just with places, but with people."
"You mean...people other than mom?"
"Yeah. But somehow, it always came back to her. And to the Enterprise. That's how I know where my home is-because that's where my heart is. Just like in that song."
Carmen knew exactly what he was talking about. "Your favorite song," she said. The words of Carmen McRae, her namesake, danced through her mind as though they had been written there.
"No more blues, I'm going back home
No, no more blues, I promise no more to roam
Home is where the heart is
The funny part is my heart's been right there all along."
"And you know what?" Riker added, squeezing her shoulder. "You aren't the only one who's going to miss this place. Frankly, I was worried Deanna would try to steal little Wrennie."
Carmen burst out laughing. "Yeah, we'll have to keep a close eye on her as we're leaving."
"Hey!" Troi called, appearing from the other room. She leaned against the wall, one hand on her hip. "I heard that."
"You know we're right," Riker replied, impervious to her scowl. With brazen indifference, he rose and brushed right past her. "I better check our bags. Make sure we don't have a stowaway already."
Carmen joined Troi under the archway. Troi pulled her close, wrapping one arm around her waist. She felt something prick at Carmen's thoughts. "Mom? About Wrennie...I wanted to ask you something."
"What is it?"
"Well do you ever...you know...regret it?"
"Regret what?"
"Missing your chance." She grimaced, afraid of opening an old wound. "Seeing you with a baby, you just looked so...happy."
To Carmen's surprise, a laugh fell from Troi's lips. She squeezed her closer against her side. "But I haven't missed my chance."
The young woman's eyes widened. "Wait, do you mean that...? Are you guys planning on…?"
"Whoa, whoa," Riker interjected, clearing his throat loudly and excessively. "A wedding is all we're planning right now."
"How many?" Carmen asked, pretending she hadn't heard him. "I mean, you're not just going to have one, right? How about four? Or five?"
"Five?" The color drained from Riker's face.
"Or seven!" Carmen's voice rose excitedly. "So long as they aren't all boys. Then again-if Jora can handle it, I can handle it."
The commander groaned. "The real question is if I can handle it."
Carmen spun around. "What kind of an attitude is that, for a Riker? And of course you can handle it. You're a good dad."
Riker froze. "I...am?" The admission had slipped from her lips so candidly, breezing across some line she had only hitherto inched towards. Carmen froze, too, realizing what she had done. But there was no going back. Not anymore.
"Yeah. I mean, if you have the patience and understanding to work with me, then I know you'd do great with all seven of my brothers and sisters."
Troi yanked her backwards, grabbing her up in a fervent hug. Tears glistened from her eyes as she smiled at Riker over the young woman's shoulder. She means it, you know.
Riker found that he was getting misty-eyed, too. So maybe he had been a little too hard on Carmen. And maybe, just maybe, he had been a little too hard on himself. He waited for the two women to finish their embrace, then pulled Carmen in for a hug of his own. "Thanks," he whispered. She squeezed him tightly.
"You're my home," she said, her voice muffled against his shirt. "You and mom. You're what I keep coming back to."
Another roll of thunder shook the walls. A red sun rose behind the storm clouds. The Romulans were still out there somewhere. As was Dr. Gardener. But Carmen's family, and therefore her heart, was whole. Whole and hopeful.
She had no way of knowing just how different things would be by day's end.