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“Think about it Deanna, we’d be explorers again!” Riker’s enthusiasm is contagious and Troi couldn’t help but smile at the idea; returning to the reason they’d both signed up in the first place. “The Titan’s designed from the ground up for long range missions; we’d have families on board again . . . .bigger quarters . . .” the observation came with a wry grin that earned him an approving hum. “She’s brand new, Deanna, not even finished yet, we can fit her out how we like, hand pick our own crew.”
“And then there’s this.”
Deanna took the proffered padd with a raised eyebrow, “Diplomatic Officer. . . and, wait Senior Counsellor? How many are they assigning?”
“Three including you, I’m hoping I can push for a fourth. . . You’d be head of your own department, instead of being the entire department.”
“being the entire department.”
“You know if we keep finishing each others sentences like that people will start to talk.” Will gave a low chuckle as their eyes met. It’d been over a year since the wagers were settled and the the digs at their expense were fewer and further between now.
“Will, the fleet isn’t going to like this.” Deanna held up the padd as a reference. “Relationships among officers aren’t exactly frowned upon but there are bound to be reservations; we’d be working so closely together.”
Will’s smile was confident and his self assurance was clear. “We’ve served side by side for 15 years, our record speaks for itself. Besides you’re the best - and I’m only taking the best.” It’s a testament to how close they’d become that he felt her emotions waver. Instantly he replayed his part of the discussion and realizes, he’s talking about the Titan like he’s already accepted; despite his promise that if another command was ever thrown his way; it would be their decision rather than his.
“Deanna, I’m not interested in the promotion if you aren’t with me. I’m not about to ask you to just tag along either; you’re too good for that. If you don’t want to leave say the word . . .”
“Will you can’t turn down another command. You’ve turned down three already, you might not get another offer.” Deanna frowned down the couch at her fiancee, her comment had seemed innocuous enough, certainly the bright spark of quickly squashed guilt wasn’t expected. “What was that?” Will’s unease grew, he made an unsuccessful attempt to stow the stray thought in a mental strongbox but it was too late.
“Will you’ve turned down four ships?” Riker greeted her exposure with a heavy sigh and started counting down the ships on one hand. “The Drake, I turned down for the Enterprise - it barely counts, the Aries, the Melbourne . . . .and Voyager.” For fifteen years there has been no one Will Riker has been closer to, sure the first year or so on the Enterprise had been awkward, but there’s no one in the universe who knows him better than Deanna Troi. So it’s only natural that she is taken by surprise that there is something, and something so recent, that she is completely clueless about, something so significant in his life that has been kept from her so effectively.
“Voyager? But, that would have been”
“You’d just broken up with Worf; there was that whole thing with the Romulans and Sela . . .” Even years later Will won’t speak his double’s name if he can avoid it. Thomas’ defection to the Maquis if not his very existence has always rankled as a personal slight no matter how irrational that may be. “Deanna I’d given every excuse I could come up with, to the Captain, to you, to myself. If I told you about the Voyager I’d have had to tell you why I’d really turned down every ship since the Drake.”
It’s true that somewhere along the line his priorities have shifted. When he thinks back now he knows it’s always been true; that ever since he’d seen Deanna on the bridge of the Enterprise D that first day out, he wasn’t leaving without her.
“You gave up Voyager for me?”
“No Imzadi. I gave up Voyager just for a shot with you.”
*****************************
The crew quarters on the Enterprise E are both smaller and darker than on her predecessor. The beds however, in Riker’s opinion, were unnecessarily short on both ships. He’d learned early in his career that a misplaced pillow could mean the tragic demise of a good nights sleep. In his bachelor days (a period of his life he now views as unnecessarily lengthy) he would end up sleeping slightly diagonally more often than not, with the extensive customization his crew’s quarters will require he’s planning on more leg room, maybe a kitchen. This moment has been a long time coming, in many ways, but right now this feels just about perfect; wrapped up in sheets, only hours till his shift, planning the rest of his life with the woman he’ll spend it with; together.