Part 6 (1/2)
”It does?” Her eyebrows were so high in puzzlement that they were b.u.mping up against her hairline. ”Does this have to do with a last will?”
”No ... not that at all. Deanna ...” He interlaced his fingers, and the depth of his glowering was Deanna's tip-off that he was thinking extremely hard. ”. .. life is very much like a war. It has to be approached with planning and strategy. You have to antic.i.p.ate that which may be thrown into your path, make optimum use of your resources and ... most importantly ... you must have solid allies and a firm army at your back.”
”All right,” she said slowly. ”I'm with you so far. I don't especially pretend to understand where this is going, but I'm with you.”
”I consider you a most valuable ally. You ... you antic.i.p.ate my concerns. You understand my strategies. You support me ... even if you feel that my plans are wrongheaded or inappropriate. But you are not afraid to let your sentiments be known if you feel that I am acting in a counterproductive manner. I do not intimidate you.”
”It takes all my self-control,” Deanna said. ”Normally one look of disapproval from you makes me weak at the knees and I just want to crawl under a chair and expire.”
For a moment he was rather pleased to hear it, but then he said after due consideration, ”You were being ironic.”
”Actually it was more like sarcastic, but ironic is close enough.”
She laughed softly, and he noted that her shoulders shook slightly as she did so. He realized that even the most casual movement of her body seemed like poetry to him.
”Worf”-and she placed a slender hand on his-”what is this about?”
”Alexander likes you.”
”I like him, too,” she said. ”He doesn't have it easy. He's trying to stride two cultures, and I know from personal experience how difficult that can be. You should be proud of him.”
”I am. And I believe that you have been a very positive influence on him. You listen to him.”
”So do you.”
Worf shook his head. ”Not always. Not at first, certainly. You taught me how. You taught me to realize when he was not saying what was on his mind, rather than accepting his words at face value. You taught me to probe. And even now... it takes me tremendous effort to listen patiently to the boy. Frequently I find myself frustrated. But you do it so effortlessly. He knows that. I believe that is part of why he feels so affectionately toward you.”
”As I do with him. And with his father,” she added.
”Indeed. And how his father ... that is to say, how I... feel about you.” He growled angrily to himself. ”I am doing this very badly.”
”Doing what? We're having a very nice conversation about feelings. I know that's not necessarily the thing you're most comfortable discussing, but I'm proud of you for the effort. It's sincerely made.”
”It is not simply a matter of discussing things. It is ...”
”War?” she prompted.
”Yes. That is right. And I would like to...” He searched for the right words. ”I wish to formalize our alliance.”
She stared at him for a long moment, completely clueless as to what he could possibly be talking about. And then it hit her like a ten-ton anvil. Her eyes went wide, her jaw slack. ”Worf, are you ... are you asking me to ... ?”
”If you laugh ...” Worf cautioned her.
”No! No, I... I wouldn't think of laughing! I'm ... I just, I don't know what to say. ...”
”The preferred response to a marriage proposal is 'Yes.'”
She sat back in her seat as if rocked. ”A marriage proposal. Worf, I... I won't lie to you. I never could lie to you, really. I love you, you know that, and I think you love me....”
”Yes.” He didn't sound particularly loving. It was more matter-of-fact. But it was enough that he'd said it.
”Still, for all that... Worf... may I ask what prompted this?”
”More self-examination?”
”If you hope to be married to me, you'd better get used to it.”
”A valid point.” He still had one hand tightly wrapped in hers. The other he drummed thoughtfully on the table. ”I have been observing families ... seen what they have to offer one another. Mother, father, child ... I consider it a reasonable and intelligent situation. Not the only viable one, but it may very well be the ideal one. We complement each other well, Deanna. We function well as a team. And Alexander deserves ...” He took a deep breath. ”... he deserves better than for me to be his sole influence.”
”Oh, Worf... don't sell yourself short____”
”I do not. In fact, quite the opposite. I have a rather high opinion of my abilities as an officer and as an individual. I have my failings, Deanna, but false modesty is not one of them.”
”Yes, so I've noticed.”
”More sarcasm. It does not suit you.”
”Sorry.” She kept her lips pursed and a determinedly serious expression on her face.
”It is my opinion that whatever qualities I have are due to the exposure I had to a multiplicity of backgrounds. The galaxy is too small for isolationism. The more Alexander knows, the better he will be able to serve others and himself. And I...”
”Yes? What about you? Thus far we've spoken almost entirely about Alexander. What about you, Worf?”
”I... do not wish to be without you. Deanna,” he said, looking her levelly in the eyes, ”I know that I am not exactly the sort of mate that the average Betazoid dreams of. Has nightmares of, perhaps, but does not dream of. But I am stronger with you than without you, and I would like to think you feel the same way about me.”
”I do feel that way, Worf. But it's such a major commitment ... and everything is so much in flux right now ...”
”Precisely my point. At a time when matters are in flux, that is the moment when security should be grabbed. A security that we can offer one another ... and, together, offer Alexander.”
”(T ”
”I do not need an immediate answer,” Worf told her, ”but it would be preferable. For I know that an answer given now would be one given by your heart... and I would find that much easier to accept, no matter what the answer was, than one that required overintellectualization.”
What he said struck a cord. She remembered when she had first met Will Riker, years ago, and how he had accused her at the time of overa.n.a.lyzing things to death. Of being incapable of acting on impulse or with emotion, which was peculiar considering that she was someone who was supposed to understand emotion so thoroughly- Riker.
My G.o.d. she thought, I'm in the middle of a marriage proposal... and I'm still thinking about Will.
This was madness. All the time that they had spent together on the Enterprise, all the back-and-forth, and the suggestions, and the one step forward, two step back ... all of it, really, amounted to nothing except pleasant memories of a relations.h.i.+p that had long ago cooled. Yet she realized, with startling clarity, that she was still holding on to it in some measure, deep down, for one of the simplest and most obvious of reasons: Imzadi.
They were Imzadi.
They were Imzadi, and they were supposed to be together.
But life, as an Earth musician had said several centuries earlier, was what happened to you while you were making other plans. Life for Riker and Troi had taken them in other directions, and although there had been some dalliances and some rekindling here and there, the fire had never been fanned once more into full blaze.
With Worf, though, love burned very hot indeed. Worf did nothing in half measures, and although he had obvious trouble discussing things such as feelings, he nonetheless loved her with the type of all-consuming pa.s.sion that she had once thought Riker felt for her, and she for him. The very thought of it made her heart pound, made her realize just how much she was missing.
And he was right. They were about to be cut adrift. Who knew where Starfleet would send them? Who knew if they would be reunited or sent in different directions? Requests could be put in, strings could be pulled, but in the final a.n.a.lysis no one knew anything for sure. Deanna had felt as if everything was slipping through her fingers, and here was an opportunity being given her to have something permanent, something real.
It's crazy, an inner voice cautioned her. Marry for the right reasons, not because you're scared of being alone.