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“Troi to Riker.”
“Riker here.”
“Can we postpone paperwork tonight?”
“Sure. Eve-“
“Troi out.”
Will switches direction mid-stride and goes directly to Deanna’s quarters. He doesn’t even ring the bell; the door slides open for him as soon as he approaches. The small sign of welcome is a relief – he’s not sure why she’s canceled their plans this evening, but at least she’s still allowing him to visit. He’s greeted by a sensation of exhaustion and frustration from the woman on the couch: she’s wrapped in a blanket and clutching tea to her chest as though she’s hoping it’ll thaw out a frozen heart. His own heart clenches at the sight. “I didn’t know if you were too tired to work or you just didn’t want to see me,” he admits, standing awkwardly in the middle of her living room.
“A little of both,” she answers. “It’s been a long day.”
“I’d understand if you were angry with me for ignoring you earlier.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not angry.”
He sits down on the chair across from her, easing himself into it slowly to give her a chance to object. She doesn’t, but he stops himself from sitting back and getting comfortable all the same. Instead, he perches on the edge, leaning forward. “Would you allow me to explain?” She says nothing, so he goes on. “You show up on the Bridge out of nowhere like a – like a goddamn fortune teller with a vague warning of danger, spooking the officers, and I have to decide, in that moment, whether to drop everything and act on your instincts or wait for evidence and facts. I chose against panicking the crew.”
“Captain Picard would have listened to me,” she counters.
“Probably,” Will concedes. “But Picard is the captain. The crew is less on edge when he’s on the Bridge. When I’m in command, they need more reassurance. Especially when everyone is worried about his heart.”
Deanna considers this. “That’s true.” She sighs. “I’m not angry with you, Will. Not really. I just – do you have any idea how frustrating is it to know that something isn’t right but not know why? And then to feel all the fear and anxiety from Geordi and the Bridge crew when it turns out my suspicions were correct, and know that if I had just been more perceptive, more empathic, I might have been able to prevent it?” She wraps the blanket around herself more tightly. “You called me a fortune teller. Today I felt like Cassandra. The Captain has lent me some of his books.” She answers his unspoken question.
“I’m sorry, Deanna.” He holds up his hand when she starts to interrupt. “I know you’re not angry with me. I’m not sorry for not listening to you – not exactly. I’m sorry I made you feel like somehow you failed, like you weren’t empathic enough today. What you do for this ship, this crew – it’s indispensable.”
“Thank you, Will.” He feels torn. He doesn’t want to leave her in this state, but she hasn’t invited him to stay, either – and technically she doesn’t need him tonight. She’s not unwell, just tired. As always, she doesn’t just sense what he’s feeling, she knows what he needs from her. “I was thinking of taking a book to the holodeck and loading the hammock program. Would you like to join me?” She stands up and holds out a hand to him.
His face cracks into a wide smile as he takes her hand and tucks it under his arm. “Lead the way, imzadi.”