Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Categories:
Fandom:
Relationships:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2012-11-09
Words:
1,387
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
6
Kudos:
68
Bookmarks:
5
Hits:
1,502

I promise to be true to you in good times and in... fruit cake?

Summary:

Beverly and Jean-Luc are finally married but Deanna finds a serious problem with the cake.

Notes:

For the only person who encourages me to write this sort of nonsense. ilu.

Work Text:

“Our wedding was better.” He whispered playfully into her hair and was rewarded with a light chuckle pressed into his arms along with her tears.

Deanna pulled back and swatted him on the chest. “Marriage is not a competition Will.” Though her tone was stern Counselor Troi the corners of her lips betrayed her amusement. Proud of his efforts he gently reached forward and placed a finger under her chin, tilting her head towards him. Her eyes were red and a little puffy, make up smudged from crying – no doubt smeared on his dress whites too – but she didn't break eye contact.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing.” She smiled, “It's just... a lot.” There had been so much feeling in the room; pride, happiness, friendship, relief, excitement, joy, love. There had been so much feeling in her heart, almost too much. “It's been a long time coming you know.” She looked in the direction Beverly and Jean-Luc had left after the ceremony.

Will nodded and laughed, “Starfleet officers just can't tell when there is a good woman staring them in the face. Takes them a bit of time to figure it out.”

“A bit?” She asked incredulously but slipped her hand into his and tried to pull him up as she stood. “Come on, no point in dwelling on the past now. I don't want to be late for the reception, I am hoping the cake will be...”

“...Chocolate.” He finished before she could. He rolled his eyes at her indulgences and got up with exaggerated effort. “I wouldn't want to keep you waiting any longer.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Deanna stood in front of the cake, mouth dropped open and black eyes full of disappointment. Everything was so beautiful at the reception, blue and white flowers, grand tables with silk tablecloths, all very subtle and refined. Deanna guessed, from what little she knew, that it was French styled, in honour of the Captain, but she could see Beverly's meticulous hand everywhere.

Except on the table in front of her.

She wouldn't do this...

Would she?

“Imzadi?” Will's whispered voice startled her out of her reprieve, she'd been so caught up in looking at the cake she hadn't noticed his approach. After all, it was a serious thing.

“Will,” She whispered back. “I think that is a fruit cake.” If he hadn't been able to understand her words her tone might have led him to believe that this was the end of the world and not that she was just upset about a cake at someone else's wedding.

He looked at the pretty cake, it hadn't even been cut. “How can you tell?” He asked before laughing against her ear. He couldn't help himself but pulled back from her quickly, trying to distance himself from the inevitable second swat of the day.

She span around. “I just know these things. And it's not funny.” She whines as her hand collided with his chest.

Something, or someone, caught Deanna's attention and her demeanour changed quickly from petulant to overjoyed. Turning around, to stand next to his wife, Will saw Beverly for the first time since the ceremony.

“Beverly!” Deanna greeted opening her arms to her just (finally) married friend. They embraced and Deanna reached up to place a kiss on Beverly's cheek. “Everything is so beautiful.” Her voice was thick with emotion. The same emotions that swam in Beverly's blue eyes.

“Thank you both so much for coming.”

“We wouldn't have missed it for all the Orion dancers in the galaxy.” Typical Riker, Beverly joined Deanna in the eye rolling but hugged him back as he leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. “You look exquisite Beverly. Captain Picard is a very lucky man.”

“Oh I know he is.” Her permanent grin widened. “Speaking of Captain Picard he is over at the bar and would love for you to join him Will.”

Riker's face lit up and he excused himself.

When he was gone Deanna slipped her arm through Beverly's. “It really was a wonderful ceremony Bev. I am so happy for you.”

“I'm happy too.” Beverly agreed, her wistful smile twisting into something a little more mischevious.

Deanna laughed. “I can tell!” She grinned back failing to feign shock.

“Don't pretend you and Will weren't completely wrapped up with one another on your honeymoon.”

She just shrugged an exposed shoulder coyly. It was always so hard to get Deanna to kiss and tell.

Beverly looked at her pointedly.

“Fine.” She acquiesced quickly, “When we eventually got to Betazed it was...” She ran her tongue along her bottom lip as she remembered. “Intense.”

The both burst into a fit of giggles – just like the good old days on the Enterprise, talking about boys, eating ice cream, exercising (though Deanna always maintained that was less fun).

It's funny what changes and what stays the same.

Squeezing Beverly's arm affectionately they wandered through the party. Beverly was leading the way and they started to approach the country house.

“I saw you looking at the cake.” Beverly inquired in that way that she had. The way that said she was up to something.

“Hmmm?” Deanna tried, unsuccessfully, to be oblivious. She wouldn't really want her friend to think it had been the first thing she'd sought out on their special day.

“Did you like it?”

“Of course!” She was overselling it now. “It looked lovely.”

“It's a fruit cake Deanna.”

“A very good choice.” She couldn't help but let her dislike of fruit cake wrap itself around her words.

“It was Jean-Luc's choice, it's traditional, but I have something else for you.” Beverly pulled away from Deanna and headed up the steps to the house.

“You didn't need to get me anything, it's your wedding!” Deanna called as she followed.

“Oh shush.” Beverly admonished once inside and presented Deanna with a plate. In the centre of the plate was the single most perfect thing Deanna Troi had ever seen. A rich, dark chocolate cake with a blue fondant flower on top. It looked so moist, her eyes almost fell out of her head.

“A real Ktarian chocolate puff.” Beverly grinned.

“Real?” Deanna reached out in reverence.

“Ah-ah.” The plate was pulled from her reach and place back on the side. “It's for after dinner.”

“Beverly!” Deanna laughed, “I am not a child. I can control myself you know.”

“I don't think you can. I think you have a problem Counselor.”

“I do not.” She pouted.

“You're too close to the situation to realise it. Therapists do make the worst patients.” Beverly teased.

“Only after Doctors.” She went along with it. “But,” She continued with a sombre voice. “Let's say, hypothetically, that I do have a problem. You know you're facilitating me, right? That is the worst thing you can do for an addict.”

“It problem makes me a bad friend, encouraging you like this, but the thought of your disappointed face when you saw the fruit cake spurred me on.”

Deanna reached forward and pulled her friend into another hug. Beverly was mildly surprised but leaned into the embrace quickly. “Who'd have thought we'd end up here?” Deanna muffled into her shoulder.

“What? Just me, you and a chocolate cake in a country house?”

“No,” Deanna pulled back and paused, looking at the cake with big eyes. “I am pretty sure that would have been inevitable at some point in any reality.” If only chocolate was a man, Deanna liked to muse, mostly to annoy Will. “I mean...”

She couldn't quite put it into words.

Everything that had happened, to them all, as individuals, as a team, as a family. The crew of the Enterprise, her family were outside, and those who were lost remained in all their hearts, if they could they'd be smiling on the grass in the warmth of the French summer sun. Her husband was out there, her Imzadi, Captain of the Titan, and here was Beverly, her best friend; married and glowing and so overwhelmingly happy.

“I don't know.” She finally finished lamely. There were no words for what she meant.

“I do.” If anyone truly understood it was Beverly. “Come on, let's go back outside. I promise the cake will still be there after dinner. I believe we have a pair of Captain's to force on to the dance floor.”