The First Anniversary
Warning, the following inane ramblings are my attempt to write an anniversary
piece. Sorry there is no plot. Is there ever a plot? Plot would require me
to actually think and therefore cannot be attempted.
Seriously, this is just something that popped into my head while trying to
write Eternity (yes I am still working on that story. BTW does anyone know if
beating your muse will cause an increase in productivity?).
At any rate hope you enjoy this little thing. Told in Will's voice, because
I was in the mood. Feedback is always welcome. And yes I do know I have more
fragment sentences in this then most five year olds would have. I did that
on purpose. Kind of a stream of conscious thing.
Disclaimer: Some big corporation that starts with a P owns them. I have
never claimed to own them and I make no money off this stuff. (However there is
a donation box by the exit should you wish to sponsor a delusional fanfic
writer. All donations are appreciated.)
Rated PG- I guess.
The First Anniversary
It is after midnight, officially the first year anniversary. I watch as
she sleeps. The rise and fall of her chest. The tiny sounds of contentment
she makes. The way she seeks out the heat of my body like a missile. All of
it creating some hypnotic picture that entrances me. 'A year, 365 earth days,
eight-thousand seven hundred and sixty hours. If Data were still alive, he
would count it down to the minute and second. It boggles my mind, how lucky I
am. Sometimes in the dead of the night, as I watch her sleep, an overwhelming
fear grips me. I think about all I stand to lose now, everything I cannot
live with out.
I never had that in my life before. I never really had anything to lose.
After my father left I never let anyone get close enough. I built walls,
God they were big walls. Insurmountable really, but she did it. Oh, it took
her close to twenty years, but somehow, when I wasn't even looking, she scaled
those walls and here I am now. Watching her sleep like some sentimental old
fool. I suppose I'm not to far from that really.
The covers slip off her body as she rolls onto her back. My view
suddenly got a whole lot better. Using just the tip of my index finger, I trace the
outline of her ribs, smiling a little as goose bumps pop on her skin. My
finger continues its path tracing lazy circles around the mounds of her breast.
Not a sexual touch. She exhausted me earlier in the evening. More a touch of
reverence. I wonder if she realizes that she invokes that feeling in me
My mind wonders back to the first time I ever touched her. In the
jungles of Betazed. How different we are now. Older, for sure, her body's youthful
angles have given way to womanly ripeness. In some ways even more alluring
then the naïve young girl, I once knew. And I have certainly aged as well. I
noticed yesterday a few gray hairs growing in a highly personal place. That
certainly is not a sign I'm getting younger. Now I have someone to grow old
with though, it kind of makes it easier to deal with.
Of course, the first year of marriage has not been a cakewalk. I spent
one whole week sleeping alone after a particularly nasty disagreement.
Betazoid women may be hard to anger, but once they get there watch out; it's not
pretty. It took us a long time to work out all the complexities of captain and
counselor versus husband and wife. Actually, we are still working it out.
Yesterday Greg, my new first officer, asked me if spending so much time
with Deanna caused problems between us. I didn't really understand what he
meant, until he pointed out that we not only live together, we work closely
together as well. 'Most people don't do that. Even on a starship husband and wife
work in different departments,' he said. To be honest I had never really
thought about it before. I suppose in the very beginning of out relationship,
after the Briar Patch, it was a small problem. Now, especially since our bond
has grown stronger, it hardly seems an issue. She is in my head all the time,
just as I am in hers. It doesn't really matter if we are in the same room or
in different quadrants of the galaxy. We are connected, two parts of the
But, I don't suppose anyone would really understand that. I usually
don't run around telling people about the bond we share. Imagine the looks I
would get. 'Hey by the way, did you know my wife and I are Imzadi. In other
words, we are soul mates. Neat huh?' Can you imagine the reception that would
receive? Most people, and I was once one of them, don't believe in stuff like
that. Once you tack the word soul mates onto two people it just doesn't sound
right. It sounds kind of cliché. Oh well, I guess I've entered that stage in
my life when cliché is the norm.
I once told the captain (funny how I still think of him like that even
after all this time) that I planned to live forever. At the time, I thought I
was joking. But in reality, it has proven to be true. I don't mean I'll
really live physically forever. I mean a part of me, of Deanna and I will
continue, hopefully for generation upon generation.
I run the palm of my hand past her ribcage, and come to rest on the small
roundness of her stomach. If I concentrate hard enough I can feel the tiny
movements the baby makes inside her womb. Have you ever felt your child move
like that? I don't think you've truly know what wonder is until you do. And I
am in wonder at it all. My child, my beautiful wife, my life.
I lean over and place a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Good night Imzadi.