But Felicia was alone when she came to the door, in blue cotton pajamas. “That’s not regulation uniform,” Will observed.

“Nor do regulations require me to be in uniform at oh-two-hundred,” Felicia shot back. “Will Riker, are you drunk?”

“There is a very distinct possibility that I am, yes.”

“Get out of here.”

“But, Felicia ...”

“Will, I would be perfectly happy to have you visit my room at virtually any other time. Although waking hours are, of course, preferred. But not when you’re too drunk to think straight. Much less stand up straight.”

What she was saying probably made sense. But Will couldn’t really concentrate on it because the floor was moving faster now, dipping and rising like a thrill ride, and she swam in and out of focus, and his stomach. ... “Felicia, I ...” he got out, and then he pitched forward and the world went dark.

When he opened his eyes again, he thought the movement would kill him.

“I see you’re up,” Felicia’s voice screamed at him.

“Shhh!” he insisted with a giggle that pierced his brain. “You’ll wake Felicia.”

“Are you still drunk, Will?”

He realized several things at once. He was on the floor of Felicia’s room, which he determined because he could see Felicia standing across the room looking at him, and he recognized the art on her walls. Someone—presumably she—had put a blanket over him while he slept. His brain was on fire, his mouth tasted as if a Klingon had been herding targsin it, and he had hopelessly humiliated himself. But he was no longer drunk.

“No,” he managed. “Because if I was, then I wouldn’t be in pain. Feeling no pain, that’s what they say, right?”

“Sometimes they do,” she agreed. “But you’re feeling it now, aren’t you?”

He tried to push himself to a sitting position. It didn’t work very well. He reached out and steadied himself against her bed and did it again, and this time he was able to sit up, as long as he leaned against the bed. His head throbbed blindingly and his stomach churned. “Yes,” he admitted. “I’m feeling it.”

“You do know where you are?”

“I’m in your room. I came here ... to talk to you.”

“You didn’t seem interested in talking. Snoring, maybe.”

“I’m sorry, Felicia,” he said. “I hope I didn’t keep you up.”

“After you woke me up in the first place, you mean.”

“Sorry about that too,” he said. The words were coming a little easier, but some water would make it easier still. She had already figured that out, it seemed, and she brought him a glass.

“You’re dehydrated,” she said. “You need to drink this. Slowly and carefully.”

He took a sip and felt his stomach lurch. He waited for it to settle, then took another sip. “I really messed everything up,” he said. “I am so sorry.”

“You’re a Starfleet Academy cadet,” Felicia said with a shrug. “It’s practically a graduating requirement.”

“You hardly ever mess up.”

“I am unique in my brilliance and self-possession,” she said, laughing.

“That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.” Will drank some more water and felt a little stronger.

“If you came to compliment my good qualities, I’m sorry you were unconscious the whole time,” Felicia replied. “But now I have to get to class—as do you, although I doubt you’ll make it. So we’ll have to reschedule my praise.”

“But ... no, Felicia.” He forced himself to his feet, made it for a second and then fell back to the edge of her bed. Progress, though. “You know what? I’ve put this off too long. I know I’ve blown it, probably ruined whatever chance I might ever have had. But I still have to say it. So stick around, please. For a little while.”

“Will, this class is important to me.”

“But you’reimportant to me!” There,he thought. It’s out.

“I appreciate that, Will,” she said, apparently not quite getting what he’d meant. “And I like you too. But I don’t want to miss this class.”

“Felicia,” Will said, hanging his head and gripping it with both hands as if to keep its halves together. His outburst had been truly excruciating. “Just ... wait. Bear with me a little, okay? We’ve known each other for a long time.”

“Yes, we have.” She sat down on a chair facing him and waited. “So what did you want to talk about?”

“This made a lot more sense last night,” he began. “Or at least I thought it did. But ... well, us. I wanted to talk about us.”

“There’s an us?”

“I always wanted there to be,” Will said. “I guess after last night, I can see that there never will be. But as long as I’ve known you I’ve wanted to be with you.”

“And of course I was supposed to know this by the fact that you never once mentioned it.”

“Yes,” Will said. Then, “No. I mean ... you couldn’t have, I guess. I kept hoping you would just figure it out. And I wanted to tell you, several times. But things kept getting in the way.”

“What kinds of things?” she asked him. She seemed a little dismayed by this whole conversation, and he couldn’t blame her a bit.

“Different ... things. Like when we were on our survival project, I wanted to say something. But we ended up being arrested and sent to Superintendent Vyrek’s office, and by the time I got out, you were already gone.”

“I waited for you to come out,” Felicia corrected him. “But it took so long, and the others were leaving. And then when you did come out, you went the other direction. You didn’t even try to catch up to us.”

“I thought if you wanted me around, you’d wait,” he said. “I guess maybe I was wrong.”

“Maybe,” she echoed, nodding her head.

“And then, on the moon. After that dinner, remember? I wanted to take you out under the stars and tell you then. But you went out with Estresor Fil instead. And after that, it seemed like you two were doing so well together, I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“Estresor Fil is sweet and kind and was gutsy enough to say what she felt,” Felicia told him. “Which you’re a couple of years late with. We’ve had some good times, she and I. We enjoy each other’s company. We like to be together. But what we have isn’t a romance, and it won’t ever be.”

“I thought ...”

“I know what you thought, Will. Or I think I do. I also think you’re emotionally stunted. You don’t know what you want, and once you figure that out you don’t know how to pursue it.”

“I thought we were here to talk about your qualities, not mine,” he said with a weak grin.

“There’s a time for everything, Will,” she shot back. “You’re making me miss my class, I get to tell you how I feel. Fair’s fair.”

“Okay,” Will relented. “Go ahead. Let me have it. I deserve it, I know.”

She took to her feet again, as if this would be easier standing up, and started pacing before him. “Will, you’re a nice guy. You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re frequently very sweet. You’re easy to look at. I like you a lot. But you’re so dense sometimes I can’t stand it.”

Will knew he was opening himself up, but he had to ask. “Dense?”

Felicia laughed so hard she actually snorted. Will would have enjoyed it if the sound didn’t make his head hurt so much. When she had composed herself, she wiped a tear away with the back of her hand and stood in front of him. “Look at me, Will. Am I unattractive?”

“Not at all,” he answered truthfully. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known.”

“Do I have any kind of objectionable odor? Any unsanitary or unsightly habits you know of?”

“Besides the snorting thing when you laugh?” he teased. “Of course not.”

“So it’s safe to assume that if I had wanted a boyfriend or a girlfriend during my time here at the Academy, I could probably have had one.”

“I suppose.”

“Especially since I’m not too emotionally naïve to go out and look for one, if that’s what I wanted.”

“You could put it that way,” Will admitted.

“And yet I don’t,” she pointed out.