Sometimes There is No Protocol
Dec. 24th, 2015 01:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grew_the_beardAs ship's councilor, she would have had all the files on the Enterprise's personnel. She knew he was coming and he had been caught flat-footed. If it had been anyone else, he'd be annoyed at being shown up in front of his new captain. Riker was nothing if not famously ambitious and a first officer stint on his record would make sure he secured a command that wasn't just some "monitor the space lanes," kind of assignment. There was nothing wrong with those commands per se. They just were not what he was looking to do with his life.
Speaking of life, his thoughts turned again to the bigger challenge for him than his eventual hopes for a command.
While he had his strong opinions on relationships, duty, sex, everything involved with the combination, and tended to be very open about much of his life there were areas that were off-limits; areas that didn't even, thankfully, come up usually. They didn't even come up if he was seeing someone because long-term was for other people. Nothing wrong with it, and he'd toast weddings with the same enthusiasm as everyone else...
His thoughts wandered back to the wedding. That wedding. He was a lieutenant on Betazed representing the Federation and defending it from various bad people wanting to do bad things to a planet of pacifists. As much as he wanted - expected - his memories to fade they never did. He could see every shadow curving down her back. Every ringlet of dark hair. If he was honest with himself - really, painfully honest (which he hated being. His critical voice sounded too much like his father who would complain if the snow outside wasn't the right shade of white.) - he'd admit he'd stop any remembrances of her eyes or the way her mind felt within his. They were haunting, and he never could say good-bye. It was true. He'd been an idiot. An immature, driven, overly-hormonal idiot when it came to anything that wasn't his laser-focused Starfleet career. Anything wisdom that didn't derive from that came back to his teacher. His lover. Her.
Was this a test? Probably.
Was this a second chance? No. Certainly not.
Was this proof time really does spin things in a man's mind? You better believe it.
It was over. It had been over. It was still over. Feelings be damned. They had no place in the here and now.
But, okay, he did want something. It was rare he ever left a lady on bad terms. Deanna's terms had been...unique...like everything else in that relationship. He knew they could serve together, because control and trust had always been at the heart of everything. Still, he...he wanted to be friends. Not friends with benefits or a friendly face. With very few exceptions, everyone got a friendly Will Riker. Actual friends were not that common, and he very much wanted Deanna Troi as a friend.
Speaking of life, his thoughts turned again to the bigger challenge for him than his eventual hopes for a command.
While he had his strong opinions on relationships, duty, sex, everything involved with the combination, and tended to be very open about much of his life there were areas that were off-limits; areas that didn't even, thankfully, come up usually. They didn't even come up if he was seeing someone because long-term was for other people. Nothing wrong with it, and he'd toast weddings with the same enthusiasm as everyone else...
His thoughts wandered back to the wedding. That wedding. He was a lieutenant on Betazed representing the Federation and defending it from various bad people wanting to do bad things to a planet of pacifists. As much as he wanted - expected - his memories to fade they never did. He could see every shadow curving down her back. Every ringlet of dark hair. If he was honest with himself - really, painfully honest (which he hated being. His critical voice sounded too much like his father who would complain if the snow outside wasn't the right shade of white.) - he'd admit he'd stop any remembrances of her eyes or the way her mind felt within his. They were haunting, and he never could say good-bye. It was true. He'd been an idiot. An immature, driven, overly-hormonal idiot when it came to anything that wasn't his laser-focused Starfleet career. Anything wisdom that didn't derive from that came back to his teacher. His lover. Her.
Was this a test? Probably.
Was this a second chance? No. Certainly not.
Was this proof time really does spin things in a man's mind? You better believe it.
It was over. It had been over. It was still over. Feelings be damned. They had no place in the here and now.
But, okay, he did want something. It was rare he ever left a lady on bad terms. Deanna's terms had been...unique...like everything else in that relationship. He knew they could serve together, because control and trust had always been at the heart of everything. Still, he...he wanted to be friends. Not friends with benefits or a friendly face. With very few exceptions, everyone got a friendly Will Riker. Actual friends were not that common, and he very much wanted Deanna Troi as a friend.
