Imzadi

NO ORDINARY LOVE
by Carol Sandford
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Will walked into the busy lounge and greeted me with his usual heart-melting smile. It was a smile that was never far away from his face now, because it was the smile of a man in love. But the smile wasn't for me, simply because the man wasn't in love with me. Still, it didn't stop me from gazing at him with appreciation and longing as he approached. I could look, I frequently reminded myself, I just couldn't touch anymore.

But, as hard as I tried, I couldn't stop the surge of lustful thoughts as they filled my mind, as, after all, it wasn't that long ago when he was in my arms, and in my bed. As a lover he'd been...Oh, God, better than I could ever have imagined. But as a friend...I was struggling, really struggling to hold back and treat him as he now treated me; As a friend, and only a friend.

And the guilt quickly swept through me, again. How could I love my best friend's soul mate? It was easy. I had never stopped. I thought I would never get over Odan, but as the days past and Will's care and tenderness slowly took his place, Odan became a distant and very fond memory.

Damn it, he'd hurt me, but Odan was gone now. Almost forgotten. But now I hurt more, each and every time that I saw Will, and it was even more unbearable when I saw him with my best friend. God, how the hell Deanna never realizes how I feel, I shall never know. But one becomes good at being a liar, when one has to. And I've become brilliant at it.

Will and Deanna have waited for so long to become the lovers that they were once long ago, and I'd left it too long to become the lover that I'd briefly once been. It was too late to go back, but it didn't stop me remembering, or wanting, or aching.

As he'd made love to me, Will had told me what I wanted to hear; that he loved me. I didn't really know if it was truly Odan talking, or if it was Will pretending, because Will had known that I needed to hear the words of a lover, and even though he'd been technically taken over by Odan's essence, when Will had made love to me, there had been subtle differences. Different enough for me to know that I was being made love to by someone else other than Odan.

Odan hadn't threaded his fingers into my hair and gently tugged on it as he'd pushed himself inside me. And Odan hadn't cried out with guttural passion each and every time that he'd poured his seed into me. And on too many occasions, when I'd heard my name being whispered as we both tumbled down from heaven together, I'd heard, 'Beverly'.

'Beverly.'

After the first time I'd made love with Will Riker, I heard him call me, 'Doctor Beverly', but, the second time, and the third, and the hundredth time after that, I heard, Beverly. 'Beverly.', and I knew that I was being made love to by Will Riker, and not Odan.

And then, one day soon after, Deanna had stepped back into his arms and I had lost him. I'm not sure if I can be the friend that I once was, even though that is what he seems to want, because I'm not sure if I can go through my days, and nights, knowing that he is with her, doing what we had done, and saying what we had said.

If theirs had been an ordinary love, I might have been able to steal him away from her again. I know she's my friend, and I know she cares about me, almost as much as Will does. But what they have is no ordinary love. What they have, I cannot even comprehend, and that hurts - it hurts to know that their love is deeper than ours ever was, or ever could be.

It's something I've got to accept, but damn, it's hard, especially when he approaches me and smiles that wickedly, sexy smile of his and I end up melting with it's effect, still. God, he must see it. He must know that I'm crazy about him. He must know that it is eating me alive seeing him with my best friend.

Can I survive this? Can I push past love and become the friend that they want me to be? I haven't really got a choice, have I? And as he makes his way over to me, throwing me that devastating smile, I can do nothing more than return it as I slip on the invisible mask that hides me from him.

"Hello, Will" I say, watching his long form pull out the stool and straddle it. It is nothing short of miraculous that I manage to keep my tongue in my mouth rather than do what I want to do as I watch his legs part as he sits. I remember them being like that a while ago, naked, lying back upon the bed, waiting for me to climb in between them, his thick, hard length, eagerly begging me closer, his arms, outstretched, reaching for me. God, how much he wanted me back then and I mentally shake the vision from my mind as his voice breaks the spell.

"Hey, Bev, mind if I join you?" he asks, the smile turning mischievous before the twinkle returns in his eye, the twinkle that tells me he's going to say something sappy, something about Deanna, his one true love. "Thought I might catch up with you while I'm waiting for Deanna. It's been a while." he adds, accusingly, reminding me that it's me with the problem and not him.

I bite my tongue and grit my teeth and try desperately to remember that he is a friend, and that I love him dearly, as a friend. I take a deep breath. "Of course," I smile gamely, "anytime." I say.

WHY!!!????

I wish I could shout and scream and cry, like I'm doing inside. I wish I could take him by the scruff of the neck and rip into him; tell him what an insensitive bastard he's being. I wish I could snake my arms around his body, pull him up hard against me and make him react to me like he once did, just to remind him that I was a woman that he once cared for beyond friendship.

But I couldn't. I love him too much, and I love his lover even more. I couldn't hurt her any more than I could hurt him. But I could hurt me, and I do that so well, and frequently, like every time Will smiles at me.

Sighing, I pick up my glass and sip the amber contents, effectively averting my eyes away from the hands that have settle upon his thighs. Those same enormous hands that have worked their magic on every inch of my eager body. Those same hands that have tugged at my hair and had touched me so deeply that just then, for a moment, my heart stops beating as I remember.

I wonder if he remembers too? I wonder if he looks at me and sees me naked and wanton beneath him. Or upon him. Or beside him. God, was there any where or any way that we didn't make love? I feel myself heat with the silent negative answer and I can't stop myself from squirming in my seat.

I suddenly realize that Will's talking to me and I haven't heard a word he's said. My hands shake as I put down the now empty glass and I hope that he doesn't notice. I try to concentrate on what he's saying, watching his mouth move to ensure that I don't drift again. Trouble is, that turns out to be a mistake too.

I can still feel his whiskers and his mouth upon me, everywhere. One is soft and yielding, the other, rough and tantalizing. Agony and ecstasy, so close together that I didn't know whether to moan with desire or cry out with pain, until of course, both become one and both become welcome, wherever they touched.

But not as much as when Will dragged both his mouth and his accompanying whiskers right down the length of my spine and my toes curled up within my shoes at the memory of that last time. As he'd nestled his enormous and naked frame against my back, his rock hard cock had been cradled between my thighs. He'd nibbled my ear and told me that he'd loved me. And then he'd swept aside my hair and began to blaze the path down my back. His huge hands had spanned my rib cage, then had reached beneath me and teased my breasts that were crushed against the sheet with his welcoming weight.

He'd nipped at the tender flesh at the base of my spine and then gone on further still. His hands had slipped lower, grabbed me by my hips and had thrust me up onto my knees, and instinctively, I'd risen my trembling upper body, knowing what had been coming, and I had began to ache desperately for what I was about to get. And he gave it to me, gladly.

The bed had dipped as he'd turned and lay upon his back between my thighs, and then...and then he had given me the ultimate kiss of all, the kiss of true lovers. I was so sure of what we were meant to be, and what we were going to be, that it was a complete and utter shock when Deanna had stepped back into his life and I'd had no choice but to let her step in and take my place. Rather too easily, I suspected later, but, Hell, how do you butt in on Imzadi?

It's simple. You don't, and you can't, and I won't, not even for love. Not even for Will.

I feel Will watching me intently and I purposely shake away the daydreams, relegating them to a tiny corner of my mind for later. Indicating to the bar keeper that I want a refill, I ask the one question that I shouldn't, under the guise of being engrossed with watching my glass being filled, again.

"How are the wedding preparations going?" Amazing myself when I don't hear the tell-tale tremor in my voice. Damn, I'm a great actress!

Will shifts in his seat, making himself more comfortable as he crosses his legs at the knee, finishing the movement as he smiles and answers me. "Good, good," he replies, smiling wildly, happy to talk about anything that concerns Deanna. "I'm just waiting to hear from Thomas. We're hoping he can get leave from the Ghandi. I'd really like him to be my best man and there's really no one else that I'd like to have, apart from the Captain, of course. But as you know, he's conducting the ceremony, so he can't." I nod, understandingly as he continues slyly. "And besides, I want to remind my brother that Deanna's my girl now, and where better to show him than at our wedding."

Thomas. Thomas Riker. God, how could life be so cruel to me? I'll be standing right beside him in that damn church, looking at him and picturing him doing, 'things' to me. Only Thomas won't have a clue what's going through my head, nor will he have a clue about what had once happened between Will and I.

Strangely, Thomas's arrival had been the start of Will and Deanna reunion. Seeing how deeply Thomas had loved her had Will searching his soul for what was missing from his own life, and he'd found that it had been right in front of his nose all along. It had been a shock to us all when, suddenly, one day a short while ago, here, in Ten Forward, Will had swept Deanna up from her chair, in front of all her closest friends, gathered her startled body within his arms and had kissed her as though he was about to lose her.

And I'd had to sit there and endure it all. I'd had to watch one of the most erotic kisses that I'd ever witnessed between two people. And perversely, I'd been unable to look away. The surprise, then the laughter and then the tears of sheer joy that had followed had hidden the pain and confusion that had torn through my heart and then ripped it in two as I'd realized, at that moment, that I'd lost my one chance of a life with the man that I had come to love.

Forcing the painful memory away, I plucked at an invisible thread on my pants, and, inflicting just the right amount of inquisitiveness in my tone of voice, I asked, "Does...Thomas know about...us?"

The silence that followed was heavy with remembrance, but I was surprised when Will quietly asked, "Do you want him to know, Beverly?"

My eyes rose and met his across the table and I find myself swallowing self-consciously. "I...I don't know." I answer honestly. Does it make a difference? When I feel the blush rising to my cheeks I guess I get my answer. "Does he?" I ask nervously.

He didn't say anything other than nod slowly, his eyes never leaving mine, and I know, right then, that I do mind. How was Thomas going to view me now? As a past lover or as a friend? Or as a challenge? Do I want him, whichever body he is in, and more importantly, would he want me?

Could Thomas replace Will? Suddenly, I discover that I desperately and excitedly want to find out. It doesn't matter that Thomas hasn't loved me via Odan, and nor does it matter that in reality, Thomas has never touched me other than giving me a cursory, brotherly chaste kiss on two occasions before. Hardly the makings of a hot, tempestuous affair, is it?

But first I need to find out if Thomas is over Deanna. Would giving his brother away to the one woman he so desperately loved before, make him see Deanna, and me, in a different light? And as Deanna strides through the lounge doors, her beautiful face glowing with radiance as she spots Will coming to a stand and waiting for her, I think to myself, as I watch the two lovers kiss and greet each other,

Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there, Bev?

Chapter two

I felt his gaze; the heat and the questions that lay beneath it bubbling under the surface, impatient to lead me away to ask those questions. It was unnerving, having a man lusting after me, curiously wondering what I was like and feeling that he should already know, somehow.

I felt a small smile tug at my lips and I forced myself to concentrate on the ceremony happening around me. It was hard, watching Will marry Deanna. It was harder still because I was supposed to be ecstatically happy for them. And I was, kinda. But I was also unbearably sad knowing that I had lost my chance with Will for good.

Twice, I had felt the stinging tears rise, threatening to choke me, and twice I had managed to summons a wobbly smile and pretend that I was getting over-emotional about my two closest friends marrying. Only they all knew the truth; Will, Deanna, Thomas, and Jean-Luc. Standing in front of the happy couple performing the nuptials, Jean-Luc had caught my eye numerous times and had silently reached out and comforted me, realizing how painful the entire ordeal must be for me.

And then there was Will and Deanna, a couple so in love that for them, that day, nothing else had mattered. But the tight hugs they had both given me before the ceremony had said more than words ever could. {Thank you. Be strong. We love you} God, feeling Will's body so close to mine once more had almost brought me to my knees.

And then there was Tom. When he'd arrived and strolled off the transporter pad, swung Deanna around in a circle, pumped Will's hand within an inch of losing circulation, he had turned to me. I saw the laughter in his eyes, no doubt because he'd sensed my horror and unease. "Bev." He'd said, seductively, pulling me up flush against his body in what appeared to the others to be an innocent, brotherly hug. But in reality, it had hidden the spark of desire that had instantly flared when he'd got within a foot of me. I felt it in his arms and I felt in his body as it touched mine, and then I saw it in his eyes just before they closed as he nuzzled against my ear under the guise of a welcoming hug.

But he'd felt my desire in return. I know he had because by the time he let me go barely a few seconds later, his body was trembling with need, leaving us both wondering what the next twenty four hours would bring.

By the time the ceremony was over, I'd found a peace settling over me. I think the final moments before Will and Deanna officially became husband and wife had become a major turning point for me. He was married now, it was over for us, forever, and as they sealed their union with a touching kiss, I found myself taking an extremely deep breath and finally daring to turn my head to face the man beside me.

And I think the same had happened to Tom. Seeing Deanna finally lost forever to him had been the end of a very, very long one-sided love affair, and he, like me, now felt ready to move on.

The reception had been wonderful. I had danced with just about everyone, except Tom. Somehow we had purposely avoided one another, afraid of the inevitable happening. Afraid of everyone else seeing what was smouldering just below the surface. When I had danced with Jean-Luc, I felt his concern. He didn't say anything, he didn't dare. But I felt it, none-the-less. He knew what was happening; knew that he'd lost his own chance with me. In his own quiet way, the gentle squeeze he gave me at the end of our waltz, simply told me to be careful and that he was there for me, no matter what.

And I loved him dearly for that.

But I was beyond being careful. I'd tasted forbidden fruit and I wanted more. I kinda knew that Tom probably wouldn't stick around for me, but somehow, that didn't matter. I just needed another nibble to satisfy my craving. I couldn't have Will anymore, but I could have Tom. All I had to do was let him know.

But I didn't even have to do that. Later that evening, when the lights had dimmed and the excited frenzy of the party had waned, Tom had sought me out. He didn't say anything and he didn't do anything other than reach out his hand and wait for me to put mine into it.

I didn't even hesitate. I wanted this. I wanted to know Thomas. I wanted what I shouldn't have and there was nothing, or no one to stop me.

Chapter three

I stood, hand in hand with Thomas just inside the door within his quarters, the silence stretching uncomfortably between us as we, uncharacteristically, suddenly realized that didn't have a clue what to say to one another, or what to do do. In someways, I wished he'd have just simply swept me up into his arms and carried me off to bed and did what we obviously came here to do. But that didn't happen.

I thought - I assumed, that Thomas would be a little more aggressive in nature than Will, having been stuck on Nervala 4 for years. Deanna had told me that he'd been desperate, frantic, even, when he had made love to her after they had rescued him and he'd stepped back into her life again, albeit briefly. He'd lost his charm and his wit. He lost even more when he'd been rejected by Deanna, again.

And I expected a man that had stopped caring, about anything, or anyone.

But Thomas studied me with uncertainty, just as I studied him, until, at last, he gently tugged at my hand and led me to the couch, pulling me down until I sat barely an inch away from his body. So close that I could feel his heat radiating from him and I found it intoxicating. I breathed it in, unable to keep my eyes open as desire swamped my senses. God, I wanted him so much and he must have sensed it.

Shifting a little so that he faced me, Tom reached a hand across and touched my jaw. His blue eyes looked deep into mine, contemplating a question. I needed to get this union started, because I had a hunch that if I didn't, it wasn't going to go anywhere.

Turning my mouth into his open palm, I kissed it gently, swelling with pride as I heard his startled and sharp intake of breath. I watched as his eyes darkened with desire. My own hand rose to cup his, pressing it against my cheek. "Tom?" I whispered huskily, the question within his name become a plea.

"Tell me what you want, Beverly." He returned, his own voice low and dangerous.

"I want you," I answered him boldly. "I want to be with you again. I want to remember." I dared to move my mouth closer to him, hoping that he would take the final step and kiss me and as he slipped his hand around to the nape of my neck, he pulled me that last inch and touched his lips to mine. But it was so brief that I whimpered in protest when his mouth left mine again.

With puzzlement, I looked back into those azure eyes that I knew eventually would melt my soul and silently pleaded for more. Feeling his warm breath upon my face, he said hoarsely, "I'm not Will, Beverly, I need you to know that. I am not him."

"I know," I said quietly, briefly closing my eyes so that he couldn't read the lie within them, but even as the lie left my mouth, I knew I was ignoring the truth. *You are Will. You are going to make love to me like Will, and I'm going to let you, no matter how you feel*

But he hadn't finished, adding with a seriousness that defied the look in his eyes. "I don't make love like my brother." Reaching his mouth across and teasing me with a kiss that set my pulse racing.

"Oh," I said, breathlessly, dimly wondering about his strange admission through the fog of longing as he leaned over and pushed me against the couch's back, his tongue trailing a path around my open and hoping lips. "now I'm intrigued."

"I've been on my own for a long time, Beverly." He said again, sensing that I wasn't grasping something important. When he saw puzzlement cloud my eyes, he reached for my hand and placed it on his lap. On his very flat lap. I expected my hands to find a bulge; a hardness, a response to me being with him, kissing him, wanting him, but he was very clearly unaroused.

My hand drifted lightly and unashamedly around his groin, hoping to find a smidgen of evidence that he wanted me, but I didn't find it, and when I looked with confusion, pain and disappointment into his eyes again, he whispered once more, willing me to understand what he was trying to tell me, and with what my medical mind would come up with. "I've been on my own a long time, Beverly."

And it took a long moment before it did register, and when the penny finally dropped, I gasped with surprise, but the surprise soon turned to one of pity when he's eyes dimmed with sorrow and he made to move away. My hand moved to grip his arm to halt his flight and he turned his sad but hopeful gaze back to me, allowing me to amend my mistake. "Let me help," I said quietly. "Let's do this your way."

I watched as his body wilted with relief and then, just as quietly, he stood and pulled me up with him and led me to the bedroom. We didn't bother to turn the lighting on because it wasn't needed. The stars outside the window gave the room an ethereal glow. It was sultry and romantic, and it was perfect, for us.

But suddenly, I felt shy. What did he expect from me? What did he want me to do? Did he even want me to do anything? Tom must have heard the questions bouncing around in my mind because he reached for my trembling fingers and pulled me up close to his body, and before he settled his mouth against mine, he murmured, "Just go along with me, Bev."

And then his tongue swept into my mouth and took my breath away. I felt my knees begin to buckle and Thomas held my body fast against his, tipping me back so that he could deepen the kiss. My hands rose and threaded themselves greedily into his short spiky hair. It was deliciously soft and a memory surged into my mind. I tried desperately to push it away but I struggled, hard. I had to remember that this was Thomas, and it was suddenly imperative that I did. He deserved that from me. He deserved more than that from me.

I wasn't sure if Thomas was telling me he was impotent before or that he had been doing things, 'on his own' for so long that he was unable to be stimulated by anyone else anymore. But I knew that I wanted to help him somehow, and I couldn't help him whilst we were still standing, fully clothed, and I ached to see his naked body. Will's had been magnificent. So tall and toned. So hard and wanting, for me. It was a memory that I allowed myself to recall as I reluctantly severed my lips from Tom's and led him to the side of the bed.

I pulled him down beside me as I sat on it's edge and began to undo my tunic. The dress uniform that we'd all worn to Will and Deanna's wedding was very new and very rigid, and I hated it. But I compensated for it by wearing sexy silk underwear beneath, half knowing that by the end of the night, Tom would be seeing it.

He sat beside me and watched as I removed each piece of the uniform, gradually revealing what lie beneath, his eyes darkening as the midnight-blue teddy slowly became exposed. When I sat in nothing more than the silky creation, Tom's gaze lazily run up and down my body until eventually, he gently reached across and slipped one finger under the thin strap upon my shoulder and slowly tugged it down.

I couldn't stop myself from looking down towards his lap, managing to hide the disappointment that I knew flickered through my eyes when I saw the still unresponsive loins. That he didn't find me attractive in a semi-nude state was a shock. A disappointing shock.

But Thomas did see it in my eyes because a moment later, the same finger that had moved down my strap now travelled to my chin to lift my face higher so that he could see me, head on. "It's not you, Beverly," He reiterated. "You are one of the most beautiful women I know. I just..." He hesitated, swallowing hard to enable himself to continue. "I just have to do things, myself. I can't..." He broke off, tormented.

My eyes widened at his implications. "You're not impotent?" I blurted, before hastily adding with a blush, "I'm sorry, that's none..."

But he cut me off. "No, I'm not impotent, but I have to...get myself...started." he ended lamely, embarrassed at having to reveal such an intimate secret.

The following silence was deafening as I took stock of what he was telling me. Poor Tom, what hell he must have gone through, and was still going through. I had so many questions racing through my mind and so many that I needed answers for, but for now, reluctantly, I had to squash each and every one of them. I still needed him, and I still wanted Tom to make love to me, any way that he could.

"Well," I decided aloud, "can't do nothing with all those clothes on, can you?" and I proceeded to strip him of all his clothes, including the boxers that he half-heartedly clung on to, knowing that I was about to see something that no other ever had. As soon as he was naked, I pushed him back so that he lay down on the bed with his feet still firmly on the floor, and crawled up his long torso. I knew the silk of my teddy was being dragged along the long length of him, sending shivers through both our bodies, and as I lowered my mouth to his and kissed him deeply, I felt his big hands grip my waist and rub his loins against mine. The moan that rose from his throat and met mine halfway was laced with desperate need. The fact that it was mental need on his side didn't matter. He needed me and that was enough.

Even though I gently gyrated against him, he still remained as soft as a sponge. It was a strange sensation; having a man lusting after you without the one thing that would make that lust worthwhile. Tom reached up and dragged the teddy straps down and I slid my arms through the holes, revealing, at last, my upper body to his eyes and he studied my breasts in the dimness of the room. He was barely inches away and so close that I could feel his hot, ragged breath upon them.

He wanted to touch them so badly that my breasts began to ache, but as I began to lower them to his waiting mouth, his eyes suddenly rose to mine. I saw the question there as though he was seeking permission to touch me and smiling tenderly down into his handsome face, I whispered, encouragingly, "Go ahead."

To say I was startled when he, not only took one waiting nipple into his mouth and sucked it as though he was dying of thirst, he removed one hand from my waist and slid it down in between our bodies, grasping himself within his own palm. Slowly, as he suckled me, I felt him begin to work on himself.

To say it was erotic was an understatement. His knuckles rubbed against my own silk-covered heat and I couldn't stop myself from moving, too. Little by little, as moisture oozed from my body, saturating the silk that separated me from him, I felt Tom's once soft member begin to harden. Realizing that he probably wasn't ready yet to penetrate me without disastrous results, I reached down and pulled aside the damp material, exposing myself to him.

Gripping his cupped fist within mine, I guided his sex to my own, deliberately avoiding the entrance. Instead, I glided the dewy tip of him over my swollen clitoris, the motion exuding an erotic shudder that rippled throughout my body, making me whimper. Tearing his mouth away from the now swollen nipple, Tom stared at me with open-mouthed wonder.

Slowly, as Tom began to move of his own violation, I removed my hand and put it back beside his head, my face only a heartbeat away from his as eyes locked with mine. Barely moments later, Tom moaned, his eyes slipping shut as sensation after sensation began to take over with the small movements made by, not only him, but me, too.

Unconsciously, my hands moved to Tom's ears and as my forehead moved to rest upon his, our breath's became suspended, just like our bodies as I hovered above him. I felt his hand move back to my waist so I knew that the time had come when we could join in the most intimate of ways. The slick tip of him touched me but I resisted doing what I really wanted to do. The burning need to simply impale myself on his now rock hard shaft was over-whelming, but I wanted us to do this together. I wanted Tom to join me, completely.

I wanted this to be the night neither of us would ever forget.

I moved my hips wider still. My years of dancing and yoga meant that I was still as flexible as an elastic band, something that Deanna was frequently insanely jealous of. I knew that the movement would make my insides even tighter still and I wanted to feel every delicious millimetre of Tom's eventual penetration. I wanted him to have the best of me, and this was it.

I made a small movement, testing Tom's resistance, thrilled to find he was as hard as he needed to be. I touched my lips to his and whispered against his mouth, "Are you ready for this, Tom?" His low, strangled and barely restrained hissed, "Yesssss." was all I needed to hear.

Slowly I lowered myself onto him. With myself almost doing the splits above him, I was as tight as a coiled spring. Without my moisture or his own, Tom would never have made it into me. I felt rather than saw his face grimace with pain, ecstasy and effort as he pushed against my tightening walls as I inched down onto him. I felt Tom's mouth open wide as he began to gasp for breath and as he pushed the last inch into me I plunged my tongue into his mouth, capturing the groan as he finally reached heaven.

For a long still moment, with Tom embedded deeply within me, we kissed. Tom's huge hand slid down my spine, resting and pushing on my bottom, fusing us even closer together, holding me captive against him. We kissed until it became a carnal extension of our bodies until eventually, we began to move. We had to move.

But I ached to have him even deeper still.

Pushing myself up onto my hands, I changed the status quo because now I could dominate the movements. Dragging my feet so that they were flat upon the bed, I sat upon him, hard, and as I laced my fingers within his, Tom took my weight against his strong arms. His dilated eyes, dark and heavy, were full of desire and need as they locked with mine. I had to do nothing more than rock against him as the position and the movement, became more than I could ever have imagined.

I was relentless with my rhythm as I slowly gyrated against him, keeping it steady and deep until saw Tom's eyes widen and his nostrils flare and I realized that he was close to coming.

But I wanted to come, too, so I said, huskily, releasing one hand, "Touch me, Tom."

Licking the tip of his finger, Tom reached between us and touched me, and as the delicious tremors began to cascade through me, I let my head drop back and let the sensation of being touched, caressed and loved take over, allowing the low, keening moan to leave my lungs, letting it echo around the small room, locking us both within the intimate setting. But within seconds, I dropped my upper body as the tiny ripples of the impending explosion took me over.

I gasped as Tom gripped my hips again and began to thrust harder, the harsh slapping sounds of flesh against flesh coalesced with the cries that left both of our mouths as at last, we both exploded together. I dimly wondered if we could be heard outside the four walls, but just as quickly as the thought meandered through my crazed mind, I suddenly realized that I didn't give a hoot who heard. I was a grown woman with a grown man. I was normal and I was proud of it.

A chill spread over our damp bodies as we lay exhausted and entwined together. Tom pulled the comforter over the both of us, tucking me close to his side, pushing my head in the crook of his shoulder, a heavy, contented sigh leaving his lungs as he settled down to sleep. But not before whispering against my hair, "Thank you, Beverly."

I smiled as I planted a swift kiss upon his naked chest, the soft matted hair upon it tickling my nose. "You can thank me in the morning, the proper way, if you like."

*The Thomas way* I added, silently. Proudly.

He chuckled in the darkness, squeezing me tightly as he whispered drowsily before we both slipped into a deep, soothing sleep, "I like."

Chapter four

"You - two - look - great!"

The newly married beaming couple that stood before me purely radiated with health, happiness and love. They'd just stepped off the shuttle that had brought them back from their honeymoon, tanned and vibrantly alive, and if Deanna wasn't pregnant, I'd pounce on the man that stood smiling beside me and prove to the universe that Jean-Luc Picard had feelings for me, once and for all.

Slipping into their arms for a welcome home and congratulatory hug was therapeutic for me. It meant that I had moved on. It meant that Will was now firmly in my past and we were all back to how we should be. Friends.

"Hi Bev," Deanna sparkled, looking up adoringly into her new husbands eyes as she spoke. "We had a great time, the best ever, but we're glad to be home."

Home. A strange comment considering that they were both moving on to the Titan any time now. But I guess the Enterprise would always be classed as home. I know it's mine, even though, I, too, was moving on. The decision to lead Starfleet Medical had churned around inside my head for so long now that I think it suffused itself into every pore and fibre of my being, leaving me no choice but to go with my feelings.

It was time to move on, from many things. I loved Jean-Luc, and I know he loved me, but not enough to make me stay and not enough to hold me here, to live the rest of my days on hope and dreams. Too many people were leaving. Too many people having already left, including Thomas. But then, I didn't expect him to stay. I didn't even want him to. He was worth the one night time of memorable moments, but that was all.

But I was curious and I had to know, before I left, and before Deanna left the ship, how she had overcome Tom's, 'problem'.

Reaching out and squeezing Deanna's fingers, I said, smiling with teary emotion, "Let's get together later over a cup or two of chocolate, Ok?"

The tears in her own eyes as she eagerly responded, I knew, were for entirely different reasons."Sure, Beverly. Ten Forward, 1900 hours. I've got so much to tell you."

*But not as much as I've got to tell you* I echoed silently as I watched the hugging newly-weds turn and walk out of the shuttle dock.

~*~

"So, Beverly Crusher, what have you been up to with Tom while Will and I have been sunning it up on Risa?"

Well, Deanna obviously wasn't going to beat about the bush to find out how me and Tom fared, and now the question was asked, I was surprisingly reluctant to reveal our secrets. But then, I wondered, was anything a secret? I can't believe that what had happened with us, had happened with them. After all, they had been Imzadi and it had to account for something. Deanna had been the reason that Tom lived. Without the dream of finding her again, Tom would have given up, a long time ago, of that I'm sure.

Sinking back into the seat, I stretched my legs out and studied my linked fingers before answering her. "Deanna," I asked quietly, raising my eyes to look into hers. "did you...?" I swallowed hurriedly, averting my eyes for a moment while I gathered courage. Another second later and I sought out her face again. "Could you...? I faltered and still I couldn't find the nerve to ask what I wanted to ask.

But after a long, studious age, when black eyes looked knowingly into my guilty, shy-ridden blue ones, Deanna said quietly, understanding my desire to know and reluctance to ask, "Yes, Beverly, but not in the way that you're thinking."

I let go of the breath I unconsciously held and breathed a sigh of relief. *It wasn't just me. Thank God* But my jubilant thoughts were broken when I heard Deanna slowly continue as she reached for my hand and squeezed my fingers.

"It's the reason that Tom and I decided not to resume our intimate relationship, Beverly. We weren't..." she hesitated, searching for the right word, and then on finding it, continued with sorrow and regret filling her one word. "Compatible."

The ensuing silence was deafening. Even though we were surrounded by friends and colleagues, enjoying after-shift drinks, Deanna might as well have screamed her astonishing announcement clear across the room, for it served the same impact as the stunned stillness that swept over me.

But not for long as my brain raced with one thought, *Not compatible? But she said yes!* I mused, silently. My mouth said, "But...but, how?"

Deanna's eyes dropped for a moment, unwilling to reveal something that she never thought she'd have to. But then realizing that I would always wonder, she decided against silence and shrugging her shoulders delicately, Deanna murmured, "We are Imzadi, Beverly." As though that one simple explanation would be enough.

Enough!! Not in a million years.

At my bemused and ignorant stare, Deanna turned a paler shade of pink and whispered, "We didn't. We don't need to."

The blank, ignorant gaze remained, imploring her to add and explain her strange statement and she complied. "Sometimes the mind can do wonderful things, Beverly. Better than wonderful." She smiled shyly at me, expecting me to understand what she was telling me, and eventually, I did.

"You didn't...?"

She shook her head.

"Not ever...?"

"No," She grinned. "Not once."

"You mean, you just...thought about...?" I asked, acutely aware that my mouth was hanging open.

"Tom can't," Deanna started to explain. "He's been alone too...."

And then she noticed the blush that rose up my neck and settled uncomfortably upon my pale cheeks and she gasped, grinning, "Are you telling me that you two actually managed...?"

I cut her off with a quick sharp shake of my head. "Yes, yes we did. It was..." I searched the right word and could only come up with one. "Okay." I said, slightly embarrassed at having to reveal what was now really our secret.

"Okay?" she echoed in amazement, "You made love with Tom, and it was okay!?"

"Yeah," I grinned shyly, "it was okay."

She waited patiently, the smile tugging at her lips, willing me to reveal more, until eventually I caved.

"Okay! Okay! It was...great! Different, but great!" I cried, laughing at the same time, happy to share what had been one of the most intense and hottest moments since I'd been with the other Riker. Since I'd been with his brother. Her husband. Will. A man that I had loved. A man that gave me someone else to love instead.

And even then, even though it had been the same - he had been the same, it had been different. Definitely different, but no better, in the end. Just another delicious memory or two, to tuck away and cherish, along with a few others, until the next time.