Chapter Text
Will has been trying to find ways and excuses to run into Deanna somewhere on campus as much as he can, without seeming like a crazy person. It might be going better if he actually knew where she might be. As he gets ready for his day, moving around his small kitchen to make coffee and scramble some eggs, Will thinks of all the things he could say to Deanna to start a conversation. He knows literally nothing about her, besides the fact that she can look radiant under fluorescent lights. His father (ugh) was a quintessential lady’s man and an all-purpose charmer, but Will prefers to think of his old man as little as possible.
It’s been a while since Riker tried to date anyone. He’s had a few casual encounters, but he realized a couple years ago that he had some growing to do. Finally being employed and making enough to justify paying for therapy had something to do with it, too. Now that he’s back in school, his budget isn’t quite the same, but he feels certain he’s a much better person and better partner now.
Riker’s apartment is a reflection of the things he wants to be, or at least that’s what his therapist had said when they talked about all the things he wanted to have in his new place. So far Will has set quite a few plants along the window over the sink, and he’s started to buy spices and more staples with each trip to the grocery store. He’s carefully budgeted, but he isn’t strapped for cash. With some hard-won insight, he can see that the years of neglect by his father left their mark and now he’s hesitant to spend too much, never wanting to run out of money and the security it provides.
Will finishes his breakfast and washes his dishes quickly before pouring the last of the coffee into his thermos. He almost always ends up in the campus coffee shop by midday, but he likes to think he’ll get through the day with just the one mug after breakfast.
His apartment is close to a train station that will take him downtown and nearly to campus, and as has become his routine, he walks the ten minutes there before hopping on the train. He loves the city, with its misty rain, plethora of trees, and laid back air. It’s much more urban than the corner of Alaska where he grew up, but he knows it’s still small by most measures. The train is pleasantly empty today, with just the usual commuters seated around him, and he takes the opportunity to dig into his backpack for a book. He’s been reading Frankenstein again (perhaps an odd choice, but who says he can’t find an outlet for his parental issues), after reading it for a class in undergrad and barely scraping by with the first and last few chapters. On this re-read, he’s finding it very enjoyable, both funny and dark, impossibly trite and incredibly prescient. Will makes it through another chapter before the train stops in the city. He shuffles off with the rest of the passengers and follows the crowd up the street toward the brick buildings that mark the entrance to campus.
Will felt almost blessed when he heard he’d been admitted to the university. He knew he had some skills, but he also never thought he would really get some of the things he wanted. His therapist would say that’s his inner child, or something like that. He shrugs it off and puts his head down for the walk up to the Environmental Ecology and Design building. It’s an interesting mix of landscape architecture, actual architecture, environmental studies, and forestry (his specialty).
He has an early class today, just a lower division biology class, but first he wants to check the board to see if there are any announcements about conferences or research. He knows it’s probably too early to start planning things like that, when he’s only a first-year student, but he doesn’t want to miss anything. Sometimes the younger students seem overeager and annoyingly chipper, but then he gets himself to campus this early and stands staring at a board of announcements that don’t even apply to him, feeling overjoyed at simply getting to be here, and he realizes he has no room to even think that about his younger counterparts.
Will drags himself a few buildings away to his lecture hall and finds a seat, pulling out his things and settling in. The professor is interesting, and it goes quickly. Will finds himself back outside with a couple hours to kill before his second class of the day, so he moves in the direction of the coffee house. The coffee is frequently mediocre, but it’s better than no coffee. The building has many tables and good natural lighting, thanks to a greenhouse-style wall of windows, so Will likes to spend time working here between classes. He’s waiting in the line, thinking about how he’ll be seeing Geordi later for lunch, when he sees Deanna at a table. Once he’s picked up his coffee, he spends a minute looking over at her, trying to decide if he’ll actually walk over to speak to her. Finally, he decides he has nothing to lose (save some dignity), and tables are hard to come by once students are on campus so he might as well try to share. That’s logical, right?
“Hey,” he starts softly–not wanting to startle her. “Would you mind if I sat–?”
Will gestures vaguely at the half of the table across from her. Deanna’s head flies up, but she looks friendly rather than startled. She nods and carefully scoots a textbook closer to her so that the other half of the table is truly empty.
“Please, be my guest.” Her voice is soft, and it has a tinge of an accent. He has an instant when he thinks it’s the loveliest thing he’s heard in a long time, and strangely enough, another thought rises to his mind: I would listen to her read the phone book . It’s an awfully antiquated expression, but he knows it’s true. If she can get him hooked with only a few sentences, she must be great with a room full of undergrads. He slides into one of the open seats and puts his backpack on the only other open chair (an understated but clearly nice messenger bag is on a chair close to her). His own backpack looks quite ordinary in comparison, similar to how he feels sitting across from her.
“Will, right?” Her dark eyes glint softly in the morning sun, the light catching lighter notes in the dark hazel of her irises. He still thinks she’s the most gorgeous woman he’s ever met. He realizes he’s been quiet for too long, and he hurriedly nods.
“Yeah, Will Riker. Forestry.” He shifts his books around to grab his coffee again. He knows he should open his laptop and look at the articles he needs to comb through, especially if he’s going to be here rather than in his office. But Deanna’s here, and she’s talking to him, but he also needs to keep up his end of the conversation.
“You’re doing psych, right?” He hasn’t forgotten this, but he’s hoping if he opens the conversation things will just flow. She nods excitedly, but she still looks a little tired.
“Yes, I’m in my third year of the PhD program. Hopefully only two more to go.” She lights up as she starts talking, and Will can tell she’s clearly passionate about her course. “When I’m not running copies or sorting out undergrads, I work on my research, which is in emotions and brain centers. I’m working with scientists to match emotions to parts of the brain.”
Will immediately revises his opinion of Deanna–or perhaps more accurately, he adds to it. She is not only the most gorgeous woman he’s ever met, she’s also the smartest.
“Wow,” he says softly. He knows he’s staring a bit, but he can’t help it. Deanna just looks down and shrugs, looking smaller in her chair.
“I just wanted to be able to make a difference, it isn’t that amazing.” She plays with the edge of the sleeve on her coffee cup.
“Deanna, I barely even know you, and I can tell you will.” Will knows it’s a bit much, but he feels bound to correct this misconception. He looks at her earnestly, wanting to make an impression. “I don’t have to know you to know that.”
Deanna just smiles shyly and looks at him. “Thank you, Will. I’m sorry to run, but I have to head to a meeting. I’m so glad we ran into each other, though.”
“Of course,” Will automatically starts to get up to clear his things as Deanna grabs hers and carefully slots notebooks and papers back into her bag. He stands with her and waits for her to push her chair in before walking her toward the door. “Let me walk you back?”
It’s a question, but it hasn’t even left his lips before she’s nodding. She gestures toward the south end of the quad (although he remembers exactly where the psych building is, thanks to his morning observations). They walk at a leisurely pace across the sunny quad, and Deanna sees some of the same students she saw before. They’re still spread out across the quad, luxuriating in the rare sunny day. Will breathes in deeply beside her, and Deanna finds herself noticing the pine notes drifting up from the pine trees by the coffee house.
“Could we–” Deanna starts.
“Do you think–” Will blurts out.
They look at each other and laugh awkwardly, but Will’s eyes are sparkling and Deanna feels sure this will all work out. She doesn’t know what she and Will are meant to be to one another, but she can tell it’s something good.
“Do you think, that is, would you like to get a drink sometime?” Will has the air of someone who carries himself as though he’s brimful of confidence and has all the swagger to match, but he also clearly doesn’t want to pressure her into something she isn’t excited about. Deanna just nods and looks up at him, not wanting to miss a moment of Will in the sun, with the light shining on his hair and making his eyes shine a particularly lovely shade of blue. They look like sapphires , she thinks.
“Yes, I’d like that very much,” Deanna murmurs. She’s hardly the murmuring type, but anything louder seems likely to break the spell of this quiet moment. Will’s answering smile could make even a foggy morning sunny, and Deanna feels something lighten in her chest at the sight of his grin.
“Here,” she thrusts her hand into her back pocket to hand Will her phone. She unlocks it as quickly as possible and opens a new contact. “Please add your number.”
Will looks delighted, and he immediately takes it from her. His fingers just brush hers, and Will taps his number onto her screen. He save it and hands the phone back to her.
“I’m usually free in the evenings, just text me sometime that works.” Will knows he could be more subtle, but he has a feeling Deanna won’t mind some unrestrained enthusiasm. Even with only a few words spoken between them, he has a good feeling about this. He reaches out a hand to touch Daenna’s arm, and he could swear there’s a tingle when his fingers brush the sleeve of her jacket.
“I’ll see you around, then?” He looks at her, taking in the details of her clear eyes and long eyelashes. Deanna nods, setting his heart beating faster than it has any right to.
It’s only as Will is walking away, after that light touch to her arm, that Deanna really pauses to consider Ian. She isn’t worried about
Will
, because he seems quite steady and earnest. She knows she can’t just put her own personal life on hold forever, but balancing dating someone with prioritizing her family will be something to think about. And that’s to say nothing of finding a way to tell Will about her mother–but at least that she can save for later, if she ever has to deal with it.