Chapter Text
“Like this?” Deanna asked.
Worf started to correct her posture, then hesitated. He pulled back, studying her closely. Was this a feint? Was she pretending to be ignorant of proper sparring form, just to lure him closer? With her lower center of gravity, she could easily throw him. He circled her, eyes narrowed, and watched the corner of her lips turn up in a secretive smile.
“What?” Deanna asked, spinning on her heel. Worf jumped back, just in case, but she made no effort to strike him.
“I am being…cautious,” he said.
“Worf, I can hardly be a decent sparring partner if you won’t teach me the moves,” she said. She put her hands up in a paltry defensive position. “Like this?”
“No. Your left hand—”
She stepped backward and stumbled over a holo-rock. The terrain Worf had programmed was uneven and a bit humid, perfect for a light sparring match, but Deanna wobbled on the rock and reached out to him with a gasp. Worf went to her by instinct, supporting her so she wouldn’t fall.
“I am disappointed,” he said.
Deanna’s hands clung to his arm like two firebrands. “Why?” she asked, her beautiful dark eyes so close it made his throat close up.
“A proper warrior would have taken this chance to fell me,” he said.
“Maybe I’m not a proper warrior,” Deanna said with a grin. “But I’m sure you’ll teach me the basics. Let’s try again.”
She let her hand trail down his arm as she stepped back, that simple touch striking lightning over his nerves. Worf swallowed convulsively even as Deanna fell into a defensive position, hands up.
“Like this?” she asked.
Worf cleared his throat. He nudged her left hand out a little farther, lowered her right arm so the elbow wasn’t locked. “There,” he murmured. “That’s better.” And he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Clear vision is a necessity on the battlefield,” he chastised her.
“Thank you.” She turned her head, cheek resting against his palm, cool breath grazing his skin. Worf’s lungs stuttered.
“Are you ready to begin?” he asked.
“When you are.”
Cheeky. He stepped back, marshaling the blood fever that always came over him in battle. The quick, strong heartbeat — the surge of adrenaline — the swell of arousal to cloud his mind and stave off pain—
“You’re blushing,” Deanna whispered with a smile.
Worf grunted. “If my face is flushed, it is only from battle rage.”
“Is that so? Well—”
She swept her leg in a high kick, one that Worf barely managed to block, her ankle coming down on his forearm. He was so distracted by … by adrenaline, that he almost missed. With a growl, Worf shoved her off and went on the attack. She was smaller, possibly faster, but he had the superior reach, the strength—
The holodeck arch appeared, unprompted, and Worf’s battle drive shriveled at once. He and Deanna snapped their heads around as the doors opened.
And Commander Riker strode in.
“Oh!” He stopped short, dressed not in his uniform, but in a sparring gi to match Deanna’s and Worf’s. He nodded to Deanna politely, but with a look in his eye that suggested she shouldn’t be here. “Counselor Troi.”
Deanna moved out of defensive position, her lips a thin line. She wasn’t smiling, but Worf got the sense she was more exasperated than angry. Riker wheeled away from her, his head cocked, his eyes fixed on Worf.
“Lieutenant,” he said almost pleasantly. “I thought we were scheduled for calisthenics this morning.”
Worf straightened up slowly. “No, Commander,” he said. “Our calisthenics sessions are Tuesday and Thursday.”
“Really?” said Riker lightly. “Since when?”
“Since always.”
Riker’s gaze raked down Worf’s body, measuring him. “I guess I forgot the date,” he said.
“Evidently,” said Worf in a growl. Why was he still here? Riker seemed almost like he was waiting for something — an invitation? He couldn’t be that obtuse. That bold. But after a moment, Riker hitched one shoulder up and turned away. He nodded at Deanna again and strode right out the way he came, and Worf was left behind feeling somehow like the wind had been sucked from his sails.
“He came here only to interrupt us,” he said, his voice stiff from disbelief. Deanna’s lips parted, her tense posture disappearing.
“Worf—” she started.
He gave her a sharp look, waiting to hear her excuses. But Deanna took one look at his face and pursed her lips.
“Never mind,” she sighed. She spread her feet to shoulder width and raised her hands again, ready to go. “Let’s fight.”