Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek TNG or any of its original characters.

To my readers: Not a lot of feedback going on here- so I am just putting out what came out of my head. I would love more feedback!

Will sat with the captain in his ready room reviewing reports from the various departments when the conversation turned to Deanna's upcoming birthday.

"I was thinking of giving her a book called The History of Thought. It is supposed to be a geological history of Betazoid culture. What do you think?" the captain asked his first officer.

Will felt that uncomfortable sinking feeling in his stomach that seemed to be present whenever Deanna was mentioned lately. He couldn't very well tell the captain to go ask Worf what he thought. He would have to be more diplomatic than that.

"I'm sure she will love whatever you get her," Will told him.

The captain walked around his desk and leaned on the back of a chair. "Is that a no?" he asked.

Will put his head in his hands.

"Number one, wouldn't you say that I go out of my way to not involve myself it the personal lives of my officers?"

Will answered without looking up. "Yes, Sir."

Jean Luc walked to the couch and sat next to his first officer. "Will, this isn't about my officers. This is about my friends. Because as far as I can tell, as officers, all of you are doing fine jobs of not letting any of this affect your work…"

"But?" Will asked looking back at him.

"But we are all people, Will. We all have emotions."

Will smiled slightly. "Sometimes I envy Data," Will admitted.

"I have had that thought," Jean Luc told him nodding in agreement, but then he looked back at his first officer more seriously. "Are you alright, Number One?"

"Fine. I'm just fine."

But the captain only shook his head slightly. "I know that I, for one, did not see this one coming, until it was…"

"I know," Will said. "I just want Deanna to be happy," Will reiterated his standard speech.

"Yes, I know. And she wants the same for you. I have heard you both say it many times. I just don't ever know if you are trying to convince me or yourselves."

"We have both dated other people before. This isn't any different."

Jean Luc raised one eyebrow. "Isn't it?" he asked.

Will sighed heavily. " It feels different," Will said putting his head back in his hands. "I know I should be okay with it. I want to be okay with it…"

Jean Luc put his hand on Will's shoulder. "I think you have handled it well, for what it's worth."

"Thank you, Sir. And I think she'd love the book," Will said with a small, but sincere smile.

"Do you know what you are getting her?" the captain asked.

Will nodded. "I will pick it up tonight when I get off duty."

In truth, Will had decided what to give Deanna for her birthday almost six months before. He had wondered at one point during the day if it was still the right gift under the current circumstances, but he knew that she would love it and even more than that, it would make her happy.

Months before, they had been in his quarters trying to finish up the quarterly personnel reviews and somehow they had ended up talking about missing home and being homesick.

Her head had been resting on his leg where he sat on his couch. Occasionally he would run his fingers through the long curls of hair that dangled over his lap.

"Do you miss Earth… home?" she had asked him.

Will had shrugged. "I miss things about it, I guess. I miss the fresh air. I miss the mountains. I miss a few people, but I don't think I ever really get homesick. Do you?"

Deanna sighed and snuggled into him a little further. "I miss the simpler times of my childhood sometimes when adult things seem complicated."

"Longing for simpler times is not the same as homesick," he had told her.

"No, I suppose it's not." Deanna rolled onto her back so she could look up into his eyes.

"I miss things, I think," she told him.

"Like?"

"The music, the art…"

"We have Betazoid music in the computer data banks. We probably have art too."

"It's not the same," Deanna told him wrinkling her nose.

"Why?" he asked her honestly.

"Why isn't the breeze on the holodeck the same? It just isn't." Deanna paused for a moment before continuing. "I guess I miss being around other people who share my culture. I love meeting all of these other cultures and exploring… but sometimes I do miss being around people just like me."

"There is no one else in the universe just like you," Will told her with a hint of mirth in his tone.

Deanna stuck out her tongue at him like a playful child.

"Don't tease," Will responded. But as she had settled back in to the review she held in her hand, his mind was on Betazoid culture. Sometime over the next few hours he had decided on her present, a print of a Betazoid painting that meant so much to her, that she had told him once a million years ago, that she would go stare at once a week to let it reflect on her soul. Will had even picked out in his mind the perfect place to hang the painting, on the wall of her bedroom, to the left of her bed, and he decided on the correct lighting for it. Then he tucked the thought away and waited for the next occasion to give it to her.

As much as he wouldn't admit it, it was always important to Will that he get her just the right gift. He put a lot of thought into it. He wanted her to love it. But there was another part, probably a less attractive part of it that he didn't admit to very often. At every birthday party they had ever had, any occasion actually, he always gave her the best gift. It was like a symbol to everyone else that he knew her the best, that he had a different relationship with her than the rest of them. He and Deanna were special to each other, and in those moments, when she treasured his gift more than the others, he knew everyone else knew it. There had been a time or two that the captain had rivaled him in gift giving, but that shouldn't have surprised him. When the captain gave you something, it was important, to him, or to you or both. He made sure that it spoke to the relationship he had with the person he was giving it to, and the captain's gifts certainly spoke to his own unique relationship with Deanna.

But Worf…What would Worf get her? Will couldn't even begin to guess as he walked through the doors into the ship's store and found him looking at the back of the security chief.

Worf turned slightly to see who had entered behind him, and Will saw his posture stiffen slightly, if that were even possible, when he saw that it was Will Riker behind him.

"Commander," he acknowledged.

"Hello Worf. Getting Deanna's present?" Will tried to keep the conversation as light as he could.

"Yes," Worf answered. "The party will be the day after tomorrow at 19:00 hours in ten forward."

Will nodded. "Yeah, Dr. Crusher told me."

The two stood nodding at each other, glancing around the room for the source of another topic. We must look like imbeciles, Will thought. "So have you picked something out?" Will asked just for something to say.

"Yes," Worf answered and the two went back to their awkward silence.

"Have you?" Worf finally asked.

Will shrugged. "I have a pretty good idea."

More silence.

"So, what did you get her?" Will asked casually, but he was deeply curious.

"Perfume," Worf answered.

"What she usually wears? Or something different?" Will couldn't help himself. What kind of perfume would a Klingon buy? Deanna usually smelled like fresh…fresh something…was it fruit…flowers?

"No, I chose the perfume she wears on special occasions."

Will furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "What perfume is that?" he asked puzzled.

"It is a Betazoid scent. Her mother gave it to her a few years ago."

"You mean that huge bottle shaped like a shell that her mother gave her when she was in the phase?" Will asked confused.

Worf nodded.

"That huge shell bottle in her bathroom," Will confirmed.

Worf nodded again.

"The really big bottle…"

"Yes," Worf seemed annoyed. "You would think it would have been enough to last a lifetime, but Alexander heard Deanna tell her mother the last time that she was aboard, that it had been knocked over and the vast majority of the perfume spilled several months ago. So I thought I would replace it."

"Wow," was all Will could manage out loud, but his thoughts were incredibly busy.

You have GOT to be kidding me. She hates that perfume. It didn't spill! She dumped it out! She hated everything about it, the bottle, the smell, but most of all…her mother gave it to her to attract a man, because…and I quote 'she was clearly incapable of taking care of this without her mother's help.' Oh, she is going to hate your gift! How can you think she likes that? It's horrible. And she doesn't wear it on special occasions. She wears it when her mother is here to keep her off her back.

"Here you are, Lieutenant," one of the clerks said carrying the horrifically large shell shaped bottle towards them. "Did you want this wrapped?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you." Worf told her. He seemed to be oblivious to Will's mental cartwheels.

I can't believe that you don't know she hates that stuff. What exactly have you two been talking about for four months? Will tried to hide his shocked expression. Maybe you haven't been doing that much talking. Whoa, back up. Don't picture it. Will's head shook involuntarily. Too late.

"Is there a problem, Commander?" Worf asked still clearly irritated.

"What?" Will was pulled from his own thoughts. "No, why?"

"You shook your head."

"No I didn't," Will tried to cover his reaction.

Now might be a good time to tell your FRIEND that he is making a huge mistake, he told himself. But on the other hand, it's not my job to tell him how to woo his girlfriend. If he doesn't know her well enough to get a gift she doesn't detest, who would it benefit to have it appear that he did?

Will felt like an old cartoon character with an angel sitting on one shoulder, telling him that Worf was his friend and when a friend fell down and a shuttle was about to run over them, you helped them up. But on the other shoulder sat the devil whispering for him to keep his mouth shut. This was it…the beginning of the end.

He could see it play out. She would hate the gift, though she would say that she loved it, and then she would pout for the rest of her party. Then when they were alone he would ask why she was behaving so irrationally, and she would say that he didn't know her at all. A fight would ensue and with any luck they were broken up by morning.

"Here you are," the clerk handed a wrapped box large enough to hold the offending bottle to Worf and then she turned to Will. "And what can I help you with Commander?" she asked.

"Oh, I'll just need a minute," Will replied and the clerk smiled and turned and left.

"I would appreciate it, Commander, if you would not tell Deanna about her gift."

Will tried to contain his smirk. "Not a chance in hell, Lieutenant," Will replied gleefully, and Worf walked out, carrying his box with too large of a bow in front of him.

"Oh my God!" Will said under his breath as the doors closed. Will had heard Deanna rant about that smelly bottle of rubbish in her bathroom on more than one occasion. And Deanna's boyfriend had just walked out holding a box full of a large bottle of replacement rubbish. She was going to hate it! He wasn't even sure she could fake a thank you. Oh, she wouldn't know what to do with that. "Holy crap," he mumbled. He had been wondering if Worf would outdo his gift and of everything he could have picked for her, he got her rubbish. Will knew it was awful, but he couldn't stop the smile that was spreading across his face.

He had the best gift. Worf picked something she absolutely detested. Even Data would outdo Worf. Will shook his head to himself. This was going to be like a shuttle accident. You just couldn't look away.

Quickly Will found the order he had made a few days before and asked the clerk to wrap it.

"You must be very fond of your gift," the clerk told him, smiling coyly back at him.

"Oh…yes. I am very fond of my gift." Will nodded with a wicked grin.

"Hey Commander," Geordi Laforge said striding into the store. "Who's canary did you just eat?" he asked walking up next to him.

"What do you mean?" Will asked casually.

"I mean you have a smile on your face like the cat that ate the canary. You must have got her one hell of a gift," Geordi commented nodding his head in the direction of the wrapped painting that was being carried towards them. "Want to give me a suggestion?" Geordi asked as he began to scroll through the ships catalogs.

"I'm sure she's like whatever you get her," Will told him.

"Yeah, but come on. This isn't exactly any birthday. And now I have to think about what Worf got her and then get something… you know…less."

"What do you mean 'less'?" Will asked suddenly concerned as he nodded to the clerk who handed him the wrapped painting and thanked her.

"I don't know." Geordi shrugged. "You know, you shouldn't outdo the boyfriend gift. It's…I don't know, bad manners or something. The boyfriend should give the best gift. Right?"

Will felt just a slight hint of guilt for letting Worf walk out with that gift. It really didn't matter what Geordi chose. He was going to outdo the boyfriend's gift. Everyone was. Will could have bought her a brick as a paperweight and he still would have been a step ahead of Worf.

"I wouldn't worry about outdoing Worf," Will said slightly reluctantly. He was slightly misleading his friend, he knew. But what else could he do? "Just get her what you want."

"What about this?" Geordi said pointing to an image of a bracelet in the catalog.

Will made a face. "Eah," he told him.

"What about these?" he said pointing at earrings on the next page.

Will only shrugged.

"I hate getting presents for people," Geordi groaned.

You can't do worse than Worf, Will thought.

"I'm sure you'll find something. Goodnight Geordi." Will picked up his gift and walked out heading to his quarters. For the first time in months, his step was light and he had a smile on his face.

Will went on with his daily activities the following day with a sly smile plastered to his face. He did his bridge duty and filed his reports. But as the day went on he found himself watching Worf and Deanna's movements with a warped fascination.

Are they really that close? They can't be. Not with a gift like that, Right? I'm doing the right thing. If they aren't compatible, they aren't compatible. It's better they know it now. It wasn't like I said,' hey, go pick out stinky perfume she hates'. He picked it. I just didn't stop him. So what? So I'm going to have a ringside seat for the beginning of the end. I have been so good. I handled the whole damn thing with dignity. So, maybe I'm taking a little pleasure in it. So what? It is not my job to fix it.

The more that the angel side of his shoulder nagged at him, the more he told himself that it wasn't his job. This was Worf's thing. And if he hadn't happened to walk in to the store when he did, he wouldn't have even known anything about it.

He had barely walked in his quarters from his bridge shift and sat down behind his desk when his chime rang.

"Come in," he called

The doors opened and Beverly Crusher came charging in, a PADD outstretched in her hand. She tossed it in front of him on the desk without a word.

"Hello Doctor," Will greeted her cautiously.

"Help me," she told him with an aggravated expression on her face.

"With?"

"With this!" She pushed the PADD closer to him. "It's a mess. It's going to be a mess. Help me!"

"Deanna's party?" Will asked still looking at Beverly and not the PADD.

"Yes!"

"No," Will said pushing the PADD back towards her.

"Why? Are you trying to torture me or her?"

"Neither!" Will insisted and shrugged his shoulders. "It's just not my place."

"Bull Shit."

"Excuse me?"

"You are her best friend. At lease look at it and tell me what to do. He picked weird food and weird music and I swear to god, Will; if you don't step in, she is going to celebrate her birthday by hunting a kolahr beast and drinking it's blood! Help me!"

Will sat up a little taller. "Really?" he asked intrigued, trying not to show his distinct pleasure at the idea.

This is going to be better than I thought.

Beverly sighed and sank into a nearby chair. "Okay, it's not quite that bad. But it's weird. The whole damn thing is weird if you ask me. The whole relationship is WEIRD! There. I said it out loud. I am officially a rotten friend and a horrible judgmental person. I like Worf, I swear I do, but it doesn't make it any less weird." She looked up to see Will choking back a smile. "And you think this is funny? This is a game to you? You…you..." but she couldn't come up with an appropriate end to the sentence. "Are you going to help me or what?"

"I guess what," Will told her. "I'm sorry Beverly. If you don't think she'll like it, talk to Worf. This is his thing now."

"And you're just okay with that?" she asked him incredulously.

"Do I have another option?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes!"

"Really?" Will asked her even more intently.

Beverly leaned back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling. "He didn't even ask for something chocolate. Not one thing. I mean, come on!"

"Really?" Will asked again, this time honestly intrigued. "What kind of cake did he order?"

"He didn't order a cake. He ordered a blood pie thing. I am not eating that."

"No chocolate? None at all?"

"None," Beverly replied appalled.

"Look, Beverly. This is their thing. I don't feel like I know well enough to say that she wouldn't want it this way,"

Yes I do. She's going to be totally appalled.

"Why don't you just go with what he planned. Or talk to him about it," he offered.

Don't talk to him. Let him wreck it. This really is it. If I had known that a party could wreck the whole thing, I would have found a reason for a party about three months ago.

"But you aren't even going to look at it?" Beverly asked.

"Nope," he said pushing the PADD back to her. "Sorry."

No, I'm not. I think this is great!

"Not even a peak to give me some ideas? You KNOW that you know what she likes." Beverly wiggled the PADD in front of him as if to tempt him.

"Sorry, Doc," he told her.

"Oh, fine. You are useless," she said storming off towards the door. "But I am getting her a chocolate cake. And I am going to tell her it is all from me and we are going to sit there and eat it just to two of us, and leave the rest of you with gross blood pie."

"You do that," Will said chuckling from his seat as she walked out the door.

Will felt giddy with pleasure as he walked in to ten forward a few hours later. He slipped into a seat at the bar.

"Good evening, Guinan," he greeted the bartender as she approached him.

"Uh, oh," she said. "You're up to something."

"Why would you say that?" Will asked defensively.

"Well, for starters, that's the first real smile that I have seen on your face in months. What did you do? And to whom?"

"I didn't do anything," Will told her. "Nothing at all."

"I don't believe you," Guinan said in her low voice. "And I'll warn you right now, if it is going to interfere with that birthday party tomorrow night…I wouldn't do it. The doctor is high strung about this. She was in here a while ago ranting about chocolate cakes…as if I would have made food for Deanna Troi's birthday and not have chocolate…please. Still, I wouldn't mess with her."

See, even Guinan knew better than to not have chocolate cake.

"Guinan," Will said with a smug smile. "I have no intention of doing anything to disrupt what Worf and the doctor have planned. I promise."

Not one damn thing.

"Good," Guinan said putting a glass of ale down in front of him. Then she pointed back towards the windows. "She does seem happy," she said before turning and walking away.

Slowly Will took a swig of his drink, put the glass down and turned to see where Guinan had pointed.

And there they were. Worf, Deanna and Alexander were sitting at one of the tables in the back, a chess game between father and son and Deanna sat between them. Will watched as Deanna laughed and lightly tickled Alexander on the arm, then scooted in her chair so she sat closer to Worf. As the game went on, Deanna rested her head on Worf's shoulder and he put his arm around her, leaving his hand resting in the small of her back.

Will realized after a minute or so that he was staring at them, but he couldn't seem to take his eyes away from them. They looked…cozy, like… Will felt his stomach sink at the thought. They looked like a family. And it certainly appeared that they were happy that way. As he continued to stare, completely unaware of anyone else in the room, Deanna looked up at Worf and smiled. That smile froze Will's heart. He had seen that smile. It was genuine, and it came from her soul. Deanna was happy. Whatever it was, whether he understood it, or anyone else understood it or not…Deanna was happy sitting at a table watching Worf and his son play chess.

Slowly, mostly to not draw attention to himself, Will turned away from them and back to the bar. Whatever feelings of confidence or happiness he had when he walked in were gone. He stared into his glass and tried to get some sort of a grip on what he was feeling…what he had been feeling all day and what he felt now. He thought he had wanted the party to be a huge bust, for the gift to get a less than favorable reception. He had been playing the scene out in his head all day. But now, as he played out the scene, he saw Deanna in his mind, upset and sad on her birthday, and it didn't make him feel better at all.

He began to repeat in his head that this was not his place, to just let it take its course, that he was even doing her a kind of favor, but the words didn't bring much comfort either.

He sat thinking for quite a while before turning back and daring to look again.

Worf and Deanna were chatting, looking out at the stars. And Alexander was curled up half in his chair, half in Deanna's lap. He appeared to be asleep, and Will watched as Deanna ran her fingers tenderly through his hair. Like a mother would. He looked back at Deanna's face and again saw her smile that smile, the same one that he knew he would do anything for when she smiled that way for him.

With a sigh, he quietly walked out of the bar and began the walk to his quarters. It seemed like a longer journey than the one he had taken to get there. This time there was no smile or lightness in his step, just a man torn between what he wanted for himself and what he wanted for her.