Ghost Ship - Diane Carey [20]
He shrugged, sure there was a catch somewhere. “Of course I’ll do it.”
She patted the side of his face as she was given to do once in a while just to remind herself that this bright, lively, tall fellow was still the seven-and-a-half-pound infant who hardly ever slept a night through until he was twelve years old. “Thanks, buster. I’ll never forget this.”
She started toward the lab entrance, but turned when Wesley asked, “Mom, just what is it I’m supposed to be watching for?”
Beverly Crusher didn’t slacken her pace as she turned once again in midstride. “Use your imagination.”
Riker entered Troi’s quarters hesitantly. He knew he was interrupting much sooner than she expected. And there she was-so much like before, so much.
“Back again, Bill,” she murmured, and she smiled at him. The dim quarters lit up just a little.
It took him by surprise, as it always did, that “Bill.” Very few people called him that, and on this ship, only Troi. Only Deanna. “I’m sorry about this,” he said, approaching her, but this time not sitting down. “Believe it or not, Data’s already found the file. I didn’t want to bug you so soon, but-“
“Don’t apologize,” she said. “It doesn’t really suit you.”
His brows went up. “Doesn’t it? That’s bad.”
Troi shrugged. “Depends on the source.”
“The source doesn’t have the luxury of not knowing how to apologize,” he said. “Maybe someday.”
“Maybe someday Captain Riker. Don’t you think?”
“You’re digging, Deanna,” he accused with a grin. “I’m just so many loose-leaf pages to you, and don’t think I don’t know it. I’m not ready for captaincy, but I admit-“
“That first officer is an awkward position,” she completed fluidly.
Riker laughed and dropped into the nearest chair. “Quit doing that, will you?” At first he lounged back in the chair and casually waved his hand, but time was pressing, and he leaned forward again almost immediately. “I hate to rush you.”
“It’s all right. I’m anxious for the answer as much as for the peace. Solitude is not that welcome a companion.”
Riker paused then, wondering if she could sense his empathy for her, and the inadequacy of his understanding. Ultimately, as he found himself unable to draw away from her steady unshielded gaze, he simply asked, “Why do you stay? What can it do for you to stay among humans? We must drive you crazy.”
Troi laughed. “Oh, Bill … you’re such a decisive fellow. Don’t you know why I stay?”
“I’m on audio, Counselor. Tell me.”
Her smile changed, became more wistful, and she looked down. When she looked up again, her coal eyes sparkled. “I like humans.”
Riker grinned. “Do you really?”
“Yes, quite a lot. Better than I like Betazoids. But don’t tell anyone.” She pursed her lips conspiratorially. “Yes, I like them. Even though I make them uncomfortable, I like them very much. They’re so honest, so well-meaning, they have such deep integrity as a species … and my human half has given me something few Betazoids possess.”
“What’s that?”
She squared her shoulders against the back of the chair and said, “Discipline. Self-discipline, I mean. And … I believe I possess an intuition Betazoids never had to develop. My mother and her people take everything at face value, and they often think it’s a joke to invade the minds of others. I’ve learned that in the universe nothing can be taken at face value, and I learned that from humans. Do you know that as an alien hybrid, I can actually read a wider range of emotions than full Betazoids? Even though the impressions aren’t clear, I can do that. I have many advantages thanks to my human side, and I’m proud of it.”
Riker was appreciably silent, surprised by her generosity. He knew how often she must feel alone. He saw the glances that were cast at her as she came into a room or left one. For a long time he’d wondered if his affection for her was indeed affection or just a man’s protectiveness toward what he perceives as a woman’s weakness. Troi bore an excess of handicaps in her position as ship’s counselor,