*Was that it?* Deanna wondered as she walked away from sick-bay.  Had she been trying to
find what she shared with Will, with Worf?  Worf was a wonderful man, but they had both realized
recently that what they shared could never go beyond what they already had; they were too
different and neither wanted to have to change so drastically for the other.

    Now it was over and Worf had decided it was best to move on.  And he meant it literally;
he had requested a transfer to DS9.  She had tried to convince him that they could continue
their friendship, even though she knew how difficult it was going to be with all three of them
still aboard the Enterprise.  In the end he had been the one to convince her that he needed to
leave.  And she had finally accepted it.

    Their differences had brought them together in the one thing they shared: loneliness.  But now
those differences in culture, in what they each needed in a mate, what they wanted for the future,
in almost every aspect of both their lives, pulled them in opposite directions.  It had become too
much for Worf; he had felt the strain between his commanding officer and himself since the first
time he had spoken to him about pursuing Deanna.  She felt it too, but she hadn't stopped him.
She had convinced him that it was all right to explore their feelings; she had convinced herself
as easily as Worf.

    She hadn't been blind to Will's pain and she had never wanted to hurt him, she had just been
too aware of her own pain.  The terrible ache that filled her whenever she returned to her cabin;
her empty cabin, with no one there waiting for her, needing her as much as she needed them.

    She had hoped to ease that pain with Worf and Alexander.  They needed her, they wanted
her to be a part of their lives.  And Will, Will had always had someone else.  Lots of someone
elses.  So had she, but as she came to realize she needed something more stable, Will had
seemingly continued his old ways; of seeking the physical from a relationship while she craved the
emotional.  Not to say that she herself hadn't found the joy of a purely physical relationship, but
more and more she found she had only been masking her more permanent needs with transient
desires.  Could the same be said of Will?  Beverly was right, she had to know; tonight.
 

                                             **************************

    "Come,"  Will Riker called out from where he sat on the couch; no need to get up, he thought,
only one person would come calling this late.

    Deanna entered his quarters and was immediately met with the unmistakable smell of Scotch.
This was going to be harder then she had thought because she knew Will Riker never drank
synthehol Scotch, only the real thing and only when something had him very upset.

    "Deanna," he half slurred her name.  "Come have a seat.  I was going to talk to you..."
his sentence trailed off.  He thought a moment, "I was going to tell you...you're going to love
DS9; they have this little bar there, the management takes some getting used to, but they
have the best..." he stopped as she sat down next to him. "Oh well, you'll find out anyway," he
took a long drink from his glass and looked at her apologetically.  "I know. You don't like it
when I drink, but I'm really not in the mood for a lecture right now."

    He took a long hard look at his glass.  "So I know Worf's transfer has been approved, I'm
just wondering when yours will go through," he looked over at her with a firmly placed smile
on his features.  "I guess I was expecting this; you're here to tell me you're leaving, aren't you?"

    It was a statement, one she guessed he had thoroughly convinced himself of , because
he gave her no time to answer him.

    "You know, Deanna, for some reason, I always thought it would be me," he said as he took
another drink.

    "Will," she tried to begin, but he cut her off.

    "I don't know why, I just did.  Even when things between you and Worf started getting serious.
I still thought you'd realize how much I loved you and somehow we'd make it work," the alcohol
giving him the strength to tell her things he knew he'd never have had the courage to tell her
without it.

    She stared at him, everything she had planned to say forgotten for a moment.  He loved her,
he had admitted it, out in the open, in front of her, that he loved her.  It was something she
hadn't expected.  He had never said anything, even though maybe a small part of her had wished
he had when she first started seeing Worf.  But he hadn't; until now.

    He left her on the couch as he walked over to the table to refill his now empty glass.

    "I'm not going with him," she told him, watching for his reaction.

    He stopped pouring the liquor just long enough to make sure he had heard what he thought
he had.

    "Worf and I have decided it's best if we go our own ways and he feels that for him, that is
somewhere other then the Enterprise," she watched him as he again let the liquid fill his glass.

    "Mind if I ask why," he asked, not daring to let his hopes get too high just yet.

    "We just realized that this kind of involvement wasn't something we wanted to continue.
Neither of us has really found what we hoped we would in the relationship," she answered.
"there are things that I've discovered about myself that just lead me to believe he's not the
man I was meant to be with."

    He contemplated what she had said.  Looking down into his drink, "Did he ever hurt you?"
He knew the question was out-of-the-blue, but he had to know.

    "Will...I don't think that has any relevance now."

    "I just want to know if there were ever any times when he went beyond what was...expected
by you."

    "No," she answered simply.

    "Don't get me wrong; I know what kind of man Worf is.  I just needed to make sure before
we moved on," he sat down at the table and let his gaze move over her. "I've thought about
that every night since...since I saw you in sick-bay that morning," he finished.

    She remembered the moment with excruciating clarity; it had been a very painful moment
for them both, filled with embarrassment on each side.

    "No, he never did anything that I would or could ever hold against him," she reassured him.

    "So where do we stand now?" his gaze was filled with months of pain; pain that had made
him vow that if there were ever the slightest chance she would consider him again, he wouldn't
let it pass him by.

    "I've realized that maybe what I was looking for was right in front of me the whole time,"
she moved to stand behind him and lightly rested her hands on his shoulders.

    He reached up and covered one hand with his own.  "I need you in my life, Imzadi," he said quietly.

    She kissed the back of his head softly.  "I think I'm ready to find out what exactly was in front
of me all this time," she whispered in his ear.

    He closed his eyes and smiled. "Deanna, I'm more then willing to show you," he said pulling
her into his lap.