After by astraplain@yahoo.com I wake up slowly, feeling groggy and disoriented - not sick exactly, but not well either. I don't open my eyes right away. I'm not ready for that. My stomach aches. I hear voices around me, and there are sounds that don't belong in my cabin. And the smell. Sickbay. I know Beverly does her best, but there's no way to get rid of that odor - of sickness, and disinfectant. I hate that smell. I'm just about to open my eyes when I remember why I'm here. Beverly... "Just lie still, sir." Alyssa is beside me, keeping me from sitting up. I can't resist her. I don't have the strength. I can't let Beverly know. I have to get out of here. "Dr. Crusher is off duty, sir. Dr. Timms ordered her to get some rest. She'd been sitting with you for hours." I didn't realize I'd spoken aloud. I see the understanding in Alyssa's eyes. She knows. She pats me on the shoulder, then comes back with a hypospray. "This will fix you right up, sir. You'll be on your feet in no time." A pressure against the neck, a few seconds of bitter coldness, and then the medication begins to work. I close my eyes and count to ten. When I open my eyes again, I feel much better. "Slowly sir." Alyssa reminds me, giving me a hand up. She makes me sit on the biobed while she calls for Dr. Timms. "Your vitals are fine, sir. You're released to your cabin for rest. Dr. Crusher will check on you tomorrow, and I'll see you back here in two days for your follow-up. If everything looks good, I'll have you back on the bridge for the alpha watch the following day." Two days. Normally I would argue, but this time I just don't have the strength. All I want is to get back to my cabin, to be alone. To think. ***** "Thank you." I tell the orderly, giving him a very clear indication that his services were no longer required. Beverly knows I hate to be coddled like this - having someone escort me to my cabin. At least someone other than Beverly that is. Part of me feels a little resentful that she wasn't in Sickbay to greet me when I woke. After all, with what we've been through, I've almost come to depend on... Wait one minute. Where did that come from? Just because we're friends doesn't meant that she owes me anything. And I certainly don't depend on her. I settle onto the couch, moving slowly now that the orderly is gone. I refuse to have witnesses to my personal matters. It's a long time before I stand up again, but in all that time I think of everything, and of nothing. But I don't think of Beverly. Not once. ***** It's morning and I wake up feeling better, just a little stiff from sleeping on the couch. I should know better. It's hardly the first time I've eaten breakfast alone, but this morning it seems particularly lonely. Just for spite, I leave my dirty dishes on the table, knowing that when Beverly arrives she'll see them and clear the table for me. It's a petty trick, but I can't help myself. I pick out a book, ignoring the two I've already started and try to lose myself in the story. It doesn't work. My eyes keep straying to the chronometer and I find myself wondering when she'll arrive. I'm annoyed at myself for not taking advantage of this unexpected free time. I have plenty of journals to read, paperwork to complete, letters to write. Instead, I just sit here, pretending I'm not waiting for her to arrive. ***** It's mid morning when the door chime sounds. I'm way past trying to pretend I'm not sitting here waiting for her. As soon as she walks in I can feel myself smile. I'm sure I look like an idiot. She's a bit distant at first, hiding behind her tricorder, just like she always does when she doesn't want to deal with a personal matter. I don't let her hide for long. I try to convince myself that it was an innocent gesture, a simple brush of my hand against hers. It's the expression on her face that bothers me. She takes a step back, as if she's afraid of me, or afraid of her own reaction to me. She busies herself across the room, clearing the dishes and making a great fuss about what I should have for lunch. She brings me a drink but doesn't look into my eyes. We trade good-byes, meaningless though they are. She gives me a half-smile and takes her medikit, walking away into the brightly lit corridor. When she's gone, I feel as if I'm sitting in the dark. ***** I decide to take a nap in the middle of the afternoon. I’ve already eaten the lunch Beverly suggested, and read a few chapters in a book. I’m bored, and my mind is tired from avoiding all the things I don’t want to think about. The bed feels good after spending the night on the couch, and I stretch a bit before turning on my side. I think about the past few days, and about Deanna, and Data, and Geordi. I even think about the captain. But mostly I think about Beverly. The bed suddenly feels too big for me, and I feel a tightening around my eyes. Disgusted with myself, I raise my hand to wipe at my eyes. And then… Memories flood my mind, no longer veiled by the trill, Odan. These memories are crisp and clear, and mine. But they're not mine; Beverly beside me, above me, beneath me. The memories make me ache. I think of Deanna, how she must know everything that happened. Maybe that's why she hasn't visited me yet. What would I say to her? I didn't choose what had happened, but I was there, and I hadn't exactly objected to what happened. I think of the captain, and how he watched Odan, his eyes never straying far from the Ambassador that had so quickly captivated Beverly. How Picard's eyes would narrow just the slightest whenever Odan spoke. How it had been obvious to everyone but Beverly that the captain was hurting. And how I, Will Riker knew all of this, and did nothing to stop what happened. Instead, I encouraged it, giving in to my desires, taking advantage of Odan, the situation, and of Beverly. I admit it. I wanted her since I first saw her on Farpoint station, and this was my chance, and I took it. Damn everything and everyone. Especially myself. Come tomorrow, it will be back to pretending again. I’ll be the prefect First Officer, deferring to my captain, always thinking of the welfare of the crew. I will try to go back to being friends with Beverly. I'll even pretend it never happened if that's what she wants. But I'll know. I'll have the memories. And no matter what happens, I’ll still be able to smell her on my hands. :::end:::