"Rough her up a little?"

"No!"

"Call her obscene names?"

"Of course not, Guinan. I'd never do that, and she'd never tolerate it."

"How about beating up one of her friends? Would she tolerate that?"

"No. She wouldn't."

"Well, then," said Guinan, "how do you think she'd react to your beating up on yourself?

Riker opened his mouth to reply and then closed it again without doing so.

"Uh-huh," said Guinan.

Then she looked behind her in that way she had, reacting to something before she'd even seen it. Riker craned his nut to see around hen already suspecting what would be there.

Sure enough, there was Deanna. She had entered Ten-Forward and was simply standing there, her arms folded across the top of her gray uniform with the purple V-neck. She was looking at Riker with an arched eyebrow. Her face was unreadable.

Guinan drifted over to her and Deanna glanced at her. "He's all yours," Guinan said. "If you want him, that is."

"I don't know," said Deanna with just the faintest hint of amused tolerance in her voice. "He looks pretty pathetic."

"Looks can be deceiving," said Guinan sagely. Then she looked to Riker, and back to Troi. "On the other hand, sometimes looks can be right on target."

"Thank you, Guinan.

"Don't mention it.'

Deanna walked across the Ten-Forward with her usual purposeful stride, And then, in deliberate emulation of Riker, she spun the chair around on the opposite side of the table from him and straddled it.

"I am..." Riker tried to find the words, and nothing better than the obvious occurred to him. "So sorry."

He waited for Deanna to say something. All she did was stare at him before finally saying simply, "And... ?"

He looked at the drink again. "I handled it very badly. It was an embarra.s.sing situation under any circ.u.mstances. Walking in on someone when they're... involved with someone... can be very disconcerting. And it's even more disconcerting when that person is someone you have... had..."

"Have and had?"

"Feelings for," he finished. "Feelings that you always think you've sorted out, but then every time you think you have a handle on them, something happens."

Again he paused, and again she simply said, "And...?"

Now he was starting to get just a bit annoyed. "Well, I mean, Deanna-you're the counselor, after all... the one who's spent years getting in touch with her feelings. Can you say to me that you wouldn't feel the least little bit thrown off if you walked in on... I don't know..."

"Ensign Ro?" she said helpfully.

His face fell. "Bad example." But then he brightened slightly.

"Actually... you know, I had this odd feeling of reverse d?j? vu when I walked in on you, because if you remember, you didn't handle it particularly well on Betazed when-"

She waved it off quickly, saying, "Youth excuses a great deal," but Riker knew that he'd hit home with that reminder of times past. And she knew it, too. When she looked up at him again, it was with an expression that he'd come to know extremely well-understanding.

"Will," she said slowly, "we have a lot of history between us. A lot of reasons why our relationship is precisely where it is. Partly because we're serving on the same ship. Partly because... well, partly a lot of things. One thing that we both agree on, though, is that neither of us is interested in leading a celibate life."

"I know, Deanna. I don't deny that. I don't deny your right to be involved with whomever you want. In fact, I'm happy for you." He smiled sincerely, which wasn't difficult because he really was sincere. "You're ent.i.tled to every happiness that life has to offer you. And I understand that, since we've decided that our relationship is best served by remaining simply close friends-"

"There's nothing 'simple' about our relationship, Will," she said with her usual sparkle.

"Granted. What I'm saying is that I understand... h.e.l.l, I know... that relationships of a more-physical-nature than we're pursuing with each other are natural. Expected."

Guinan appeared without saying a word, placed a drink at Deanna's right, and moved away as silent as a ghost. Deanna picked up the drink almost unconsciously, dropped in a small stirrer, and mixed it absently. "We've made no claims on each other otherwise," she pointed out.

"Right. And naturally we're going to be involved with other people."

"You keep saying that, Will. Do you repeat it because you want to emphasize it... or because you want to convince yourself of it?"

He smiled lopsidedly. "A little of both, I guess. What I'm saying is that I understand it intellectually. In the abstract. But being put face-to-face, unexpectedly, with the reality of it... it just caught me a little off guard, that's all. I felt surprise, and maybe... just maybe"-he brought his thumb and forefinger together to measure out a minuscule amount of s.p.a.ce-"just a smidgen of jealousy."

"Just a smidgen."

"Nothing significant. I mean, after all, Deanna"-he spread his hands helplessly-"I'm only human."

"I've tried never to hold that against you," she said somberly. And they clinked gla.s.ses.

CHAPTER 9.

In a time-honored tradition for getting attention, Captain Picard clinked his knife several times against his gla.s.s.

All around the banquet table, the delegates ceased their amiable chatter, putting down their utensils or drinks and giving their full attention to the captain.

Around the table were grouped the amba.s.sadors from the Cordians, the Byfrexians, and the Luss. Also seated there were Data, Worf, Riker, and Troi.

Riker was not seated next to Deanna but instead several s.p.a.ces down. That had not been the original seating arrangement, but when Deanna had arrived, she had been mildly surprised to find Dann next to her.

"Commander Riker insisted," said Dann, sounding just a bit puzzled. "I thought I was supposed to be sitting with my delegation, but..." And he shrugged.

Deanna had turned and looked at Riker, who was sitting next to the Lussian amba.s.sador and speaking with him animatedly. The Luss was nodding his bald head thoughtfully, and giving that enigmatic half-smile that was so typical of the elders of his race.

As if sensing Deanna's gaze on him, Riker continued to talk to the amba.s.sador but glanced in Deanna's direction. Her smile said it all-The seating rearrangement wasn't necessary, but it's a sweet gesture. Thank you. He c.o.c.ked his head slightly in unspoken response and then turned his full attention back to the amba.s.sador.

The evening had progressed quite smoothly as the Enterprise continued in its stately orbit around Sindar, the home planet of the Sindareen. Their arrival had been uneventful, which in and of itself was unusual. Once upon a time, anyone getting within a pa.r.s.ec of Sindareen s.p.a.ce, much less the home world of Sindar, was met with challenges and hostilities... even if they were expected.

But the Enterprise had sailed through with nary a whisper from the Sindareen and had settled into orbit around Sindar while attracting nothing more than a muted greeting from the planetary government and an a.s.surance that delegates would shortly be prepared to beam up to the Enterprise to begin the hammering out of a peace settlement between the Sindareen and their longtime opponents.

Those delegates were now seated at the head of the table and were paying polite attention to Picard as he rapped for silence.

When all was silent, Picard spoke. "The Federation is, at its heart, an organization dedicated to peace. So a mission such as this one is always particularly gratifying, since we are fulfilling the most fundamental function of the United Federation of Planets. I extend welcome once more to the delegates of the Cordians, the Luss, and the Byfrexians." As he mentioned each one, he raised his gla.s.s and moved it slightly in the direction of each in acknowledgment. "And now, it is my honor to welcome the delegates from the Sindareen... Amba.s.sador Nici, and her retainer, Eza."

Nici slowly rose. She was tall, with her coal-black hair swept up and back, exposing her long, narrow throat. Her mouth barely moved when she spoke-instead, the sound issued predominantly from the nictating membranes that fluttered at the base of her neck.

"It is... our honor," she said carefully, "to meet with our... a.s.sociates... in a place other than the battlefield. I have advocated the putting aside of hostilities for many years now. Our leaders have finally accepted the inevitability of..."

She paused, and immediately Picard knew why. She was waiting for one of the delegates to be cla.s.sless enough to finish the sentence with the word defeat.

No one said anything, but simply waited expectantly and courteously.

"...compromise," Nici concluded after a respectable pause.

Picard was pleased that the initial thrust from the Sindareen had worked out so smoothly, as they all raised their gla.s.ses and drank. He, along with the other delegates, knew perfectly well that the Sindareen used language as yet another weapon-to probe, prod, and generally to try to trip up potential opponents and reveal their true mindsets. So no one at the table had any desire or intention of falling into one of the renowned Sindareen verbal traps.

Seated next to Nici, and just to Deanna's right, was Eza, Nici's aide. Eza was darker complexioned than Nici-perhaps a resident of another province, Riker figured. Eza had a dark scowl on his face and seemed even less enthused with the proceedings than Nici. But at least he properly kept his own counsel, and Riker hoped that Eza would not serve as any sort of impediment to the proceedings.

Also, Eza did seem capable of being swayed-the only times he smiled during the meal were when Deanna would engage him in conversation. He seemed grateful for the attention, and several times throughout the course of the meal he actually laughed rather boisterously, his sictating membranes flapping with furious speed. It seemed quite a positive sign. Clearly, Riker thought, the counselor's ability to charm people was not limited solely to Riker himself.

By the end of the dinner, everyone seemed in high spirits. It was as upbeat a beginning as anyone could have hoped.

Still, Riker and Picard managed to sidle up to Deanna during a leisurely time afterward, when the delegates had broken up into smaller groups and were chatting informally with each other. The full meetings were scheduled to begin the next day.

"Any feeling on the Sindareen?" Picard asked in a low voice. He kept his smile firmly fixed in place, though, and even nodded in the direction of Nici when she glanced at him from a corner of the room.

"On a surface level, Captain, their motives seem to be precisely what they say they are: they want peace."

"Any agenda beyond that?" Riker said.

Deanna paused, giving the question full weight. "I cannot say for sure. As I told you, Captain-and as Commander Riker knows-the Sindareen can be a challenge to read. Through continued exposure, however, as I gain a feeling for the individual's psyche, I might be able to tell you more."

"You'll do your best, I'm certain, Counselor," said Picard. "At least we're off on the right foot."

A hand rested on Deanna's shoulder and she turned to look into Dann's smiling face. "Are you about finished here, Deanna?" he asked, and then looked to Picard and Riker. "Sorry, gentlemen... I didn't mean to interrupt."

"That's all right, Dann," said Deanna. "We were finished." Then she looked to Picard for confirmation. "Weren't we, Captain?"

"By all means." But Picard's eyes narrowed slightly, and he watched as Dann led Deanna out of the room, an arm around her waist in a most familiar fashion. Deanna was laughing lightly at some comment he had just whispered to her.

Picard turned to Riker and noted that the muscles of his jaw were working under his checks. "Problem, Number One?"

"No problem, Captain," said Riker neutrally.

Picard took a step closer to his second-in-command and observed, "She seems rather friendly with him. That's not going to present a difficulty for you, is it, Number One?"

Riker regarded Picard with an arched eyebrow. "I already said there's no problem, Captain. I hope you don't think I'm lying to you."

"Number One, never in a million years would I believe that you would lie to me."

"Thank you, sir."

Picard paused only a moment before he added, "However... lying to yourself would be another matter entirely."

Riker had been turning away, but now he looked back at Picard with some surprise. "Deanna's happiness is my happiness," Riker said firmly, and then deciding that his tone sounded just a bit too aggressive for a statement directed to his commanding officer, quickly added a respectful, "Sir."

Picard nodded slightly. "A very commendable and adult att.i.tude, Number One. If you are satisfied with the situation, then I certainly am-especially seeing as it isn't any of my business."

"As you say, sir."

One of the Byfrexians came up at that moment and engaged Picard in a discussion of Prime Directive ethics that had been a bone of contention in a seminar the amba.s.sador had taught. Riker listened for a few moments before drifting over to Nici and striking up a polite and, he hoped, informative conversation with her.

But his gaze kept shifting over to the doors of the banquet room-the doors through which Counselor Troi had exited moments earlier with Dann. And Riker had taken note not only of the arm around her waist but also that Deanna had placed a hand over his as if she wanted to make sure he didn't remove that arm.

"I'm happy for you," he said to no one in particular.

CHAPTER 10.

Riker lay on his back, staring up into the darkness of his quarters. His hands were interlaced behind his head, the pillow soft under him. He had been that way for over an hour as sleep refused to come.

Sorting out his feelings was rapidly becoming something of a royal pain. He still remembered that time a couple of years ago, in Deanna's quarters... Both he and Deanna had been in an extremely mellow mood, and he had also been allowing the more relaxing qualities of the Synthehol he'd consumed to have sway over his actions. A friendly good-night kiss had turned into something far more pa.s.sionate, and for a moment they had been kissing each other eagerly, hungrily, and it had been just like the old days.

And then Deanna had whispered, pleaded, telling him that they shouldn't, reminding him of the difficulties of involvement while both served on the same ship. Yet even as she spoke, she would have let him...

But he pulled back. Her words had penetrated the Syntheholic haze on his brain and washed it away, bringing with it instant sobriety and a reminder of the line that they had drawn for themselves.

And nothing had happened.

Not that he hadn't wanted it... they had both wanted it...

But what had they wanted? Momentary gratification? Or something more... a rekindling of something that they had thought they'd left behind them?

Perhaps they'd been kidding themselves. Here he was someone accustomed to command situations, and here she was someone who was always in touch with feelings. So it was only natural that they would decide they could control their feelings, dictate their relationship. Turn their emotions on and off like an old-style light switch.

How realistic was that, though? Lying there in the darkness, imagining Deanna at that moment, wrapped in the arms of Dann, laughing or saying things softly...

Did she say the same things to Dann that she had to Riker?

For a moment there he had actually been drifting off, his feelings about Deanna lulling his brain and convincing him that everything would seem more clear in the morning. And then something, some impulse, made him sit bolt upright in bed, moving so swiftly that he had a momentary sense of disorientation.