Beverly Crusher strode out of the turbolift and headed for her erstwhile breakfast companion's. She stared at the data streaming across the PADD in her hands as her feet carried her, out of habit, around the bend in the corridor.
She didn't break her stride when she reached the captain's doors. The dark beige barrier opened with a soft hiss as soon as she entered sensor range.
Beverly didn't think twice about the unspoken message behind his having granted her carte blanche access to his quarters each morning. They ate breakfast together every morning. He expected her to arrive. She expected to be granted entry. Why stand on a foolish ceremony where one party asks for—and waits—pretending to worry about whether the permission will be granted?
Not when both parties have been friends for more than two decades.
"Good morning, Jean-Luc," she said as she continued her swift progress. She made a beeline for the dining table and lowered herself into her usual chair without taking her eyes from her PADD.
"Doctor," Picard replied by way of greeting.
She glanced up from her reading and met his gaze. His eyes twinkled as she watched him studying her over the rim of his coffee cup. Grinning in response, she shut off the PADD and turned her attention to her host.
"How are you this morning?" she asked.
"Fine," he replied. "And you?"
Beverly opened her mouth to reply, "Fine," and then paused.
No, she thought. I'm not fine. I want something. I want more.
She closed her mouth and her grin faded as she followed the thought to its logical conclusion.
"Doctor?" Jean-Luc asked, concern lacing his voice. "Beverly?"
"Are we expecting to encounter an ion storm, quantum filament, or other spatial anomaly today?" she asked.
Jean-Luc blinked at her non-sequitur. He shook his head and responded, "No, Doctor. The Xarses nebula is harmless. We're on a routine mapping mission. Nothing out of the ordinary is expected."
"No mysterious aliens?" she asked. "Doppelgangers, shape-shifters, unscrupulous or omnipotent beings planning on toying with us for their amusement?"
"Beverly, what is this about?"
Beverly inhaled and ran a hand through her hair. "It's just I think I'm about to do something potentially ill-advised—reckless even—and I was hoping…"
Jean-Luc chuckled. "You're hoping fate will step in and save you from yourself?"
"It was worth a shot," she replied with a shrug.
Jean-Luc leaned forward. "What are you planning that's so dangerous I ought to order the ship to red alert to prevent it from occurring?"
Beverly licked her lips and quickly re-evaluated her initial thought.
Yes, I definitely want more, and I'm tired of denying myself.
Failing to find any new reasons not to follow through with her original—albeit poorly conceived—plan, she met Jean-Luc's slightly wary gaze and said, "I was thinking about Data's concert in Ten Forward this evening."
Jean-Luc's eyebrows rose. "You don't want to attend Mr. Data's performance?"
"No," Beverly said, shaking her head. "I very much want to go."
"Doctor, I'm afraid I'm having difficulty following your logic."
Beverly sighed and decided to be more forthright. "Jean-Luc, will you go to Data's concert with me?"
She fidgeted with the cloth napkin resting on her breakfast plate and forced herself to watch him and wait for his reaction.
"Doctor… Beverly," Jean-Luc replied, uttering each syllable with care and deliberation. "I would hate to presume—or insinuate that I am taking our friendship for granted—however I've been under the impression for several years now that each of us holds the honour of being the unspoken companion of the other for official functions and events such as this evening. Barring any spatial anomalies or unscrupulous aliens, I fully expected we would attend the concert together."
"No," Beverly replied. "I mean, yes, your impression is correct, but not in this situation."
Jean-Luc tilted his head, clearly puzzled.
Her hands trembled as she set them in her lap, and she took a settling breath before continuing. "I don't want you to accompany me to the concert as per our unspoken understanding. I'm asking you personally—as a woman to a man—to come with me."
Jean-Luc blinked.
Beverly set a croissant on her plate and picked at the flaky pastry while she waited for Jean-Luc to speak. She watched him from under her lashes as he struggled to process her request.
"Beverly, are you…?" Jean-Luc began and then halted. He cleared his throat. "Forgive me, but are you asking me…?"
"On a date?" she said, finishing the sentence for him.
Jean-Luc blushed and raised his hands defensively. She bit her lip, realizing her years of keeping him at arms length had taught him to fear any suggestions she might make about changing the nature of their relationship.
"I hope I haven't jumped to the wrong conclusion here," he said. "You know how deeply I value our friendship, and I would never intentionally do anything to—"
"Yes, Jean-Luc," Beverly said, cutting him off before he could apologize for having done nothing wrong. She decided he deserved to hear her unequivocal answer. "I'm asking you out on a date."