A/N: I've been working on this for quite some time now and I'm finally getting around to posting. The idea came to me while watching Chain of Command. I'm sure what caught my eye wasn't new to any P/C shipper. On was the look Beverly had on her face when she and Worf returned to the ship from Celtris III and the other was what Madred says about Beverly when speaking to Jean-Luc.

This story will basically follow Chain of Command, Part I up until Jean-Luc is captured…then it goes AU (but I will pull some lines and situations from both parts of the episode). I also mess around with some timeframes, some lines and other facts just to make things fit my idea. This story is mostly character-driven…there's not going to be much excitement in regards to missions, etc.

I haven't read a ton of P/C fanfic but I'm sure stuff like this has been done before. Hopefully my version is a little different. Parts of it gets pretty cliché and even outlandish at times but what can you do, right? Oh and I feel I should warn you there's heavy, heavy, HEAVY angst in this one. If you don't like angst, you probably should steer clear. :)

Also, I made a fake trailer/fanvid for this story…you can view it here: /HIFh5wF8ow0

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek: The Next Generation nor do I own the characters. But I do like to borrow them from time to time and have a little fun.

…

Cosmic Dance

Chapter 1: Come Home

"Everything I can't be; Is everything you should be
And that's why I need you here
Everything I can't be; Is everything you should be
And that's why I need you here
So hear this now

Come home; Come home
Cause I've been waiting for you
For so long; For so long
And right now there's a war between the vanities
But all I see is you and me
The fight for you is all I've ever known
Ever known
So come home
Come home…"

~Come Home, OneRepublic

…

In a small gray room, Beverly Crusher sat on a hard cot and stared at the floor. The cell was damp and cold and her days had been filled with nothing but tedious boredom. There had been no word about Jean-Luc…no information about why she was being held. The not knowing was unnerving. And in her solitude, she was starting to grow restless.

She rose from the thin mattress and began to pace.

In the past few days there had been too much time to think. The questions that edged roughly into her periphery were her constants. They haunted her every second of every day.

Where was he? Was he hurt? Did he need her? Was he even still alive?

It always went back to him. He was the one unwavering presence in her life. The charming, but stubborn Starfleet captain with hazel gray eyes and a deep baritone voice. When she closed her eyes she could see his face. His set jaw…his strong nose…the small dimple in his chin.

She dropped down to the bed and rested her head in her hands. As she inhaled deeply she lifted her head and opened her eyes. For a moment she didn't believe what she saw. For a moment she thought it was just another dream. But when she saw him sway and lean against the wall, she felt in her heart it was real. It had to be.

"Jean-Luc!" she cried out.

She stood from her seat quickly, wanting to rush to him. Her heart fluttered as relief rushed through her just at the sight of him. He was alive.

A day ago, though she wouldn't have admitted it, she had almost given up hope that she'd see him again. It had been so long since she'd seen his face or heard his voice. And her captors hadn't said but maybe ten words to her about anything, much less about the well-being of Jean-Luc.

Now he was there, standing just inside the walls of her cold, dark cell. And though every ounce of her being told her it was Jean-Luc, she still needed the physical proof. She needed to touch him, feel his heart beat, hear his breaths.

As she took a step toward him, she stumbled. He immediately ran to her, lifting her in his arms and lowering her to the bed she had just vacated.

"Beverly," he said quietly.

Lifting his hand, he smoothed a piece of her red hair then tucked it behind her ear. His fingers brushed across her cheek then her jaw then her lips. Her sharp intake of breath stopped his movements but he didn't back away. After staring at her mouth for several moments, he turned his gaze to her eyes. He cleared his throat as his lips formed into a thin, tense line.

"Did they hurt you?" he asked in a gravelly voice.

She opened her mouth to utter the simple answer but found she couldn't find her voice. Swallowing past the newly formed lump in her throat, she looked into his eyes and slowly shook her head from side to side. As his arm swayed gently with her movement he stroked her bottom lip with his thumb.

"Are you sure?" he asked, stepping back and running his eyes over her face.

"I'm sure," she finally answered in a whisper.

With her words he collapsed to the ground in pile of limbs, practically weeping over her safety. "Good," he said more to himself than to her.

"Jean-Luc," she breathed as she fell with him, trying to keep him from crashing.

She positioned herself on the floor in front of him and gripped his shoulders. Slowly she ran her hands over his arms to his hands. She briefly gathered them within her own and gave his fingers a quick squeeze. Her hands traveled up the not quite rough material of his tunic. She almost smiled at the fact that its color was close to the dark crimson of the uniform he wore proudly every day. As the tips of her fingers grazed the skin of his chest she stopped her movement. Each of them looked down, growing uneasy with the intimacy of the touch. Jean-Luc cleared his throat then started to stand.

"Have you been here the entire time? Where is Worf?" he asked looking around.

"I have been here the entire time. As for Worf, he escaped. I think. I hope."

Jean-Luc frowned as he looked to the door. "It doesn't sound like Mr. Worf to have left you behind especially after you both got out of that room."

Beverly stood slowly. She took a deep breath and stared at her feet.

He recognized the look on her face. "Beverly," he said, his voice holding a whisper of a growl. "What happened?"

"I…I ordered him to go back to the Enterprise."

"You what?"

She took a deep breath and released it slowly. "We were outrunning them…just barely but outrunning them nonetheless. We were almost out. But I had to…I…"

"You came back. For me."

A quick, very guilty smile flashed onto her face as she nodded. "Yes. I came back. For you."

"Why?"

Her eyes shot up to him. She glared at him, crystal blue daggers piercing into him. "Are you seriously asking me that?" she asked incredulously. "I couldn't just leave you here."

She could tell by his blank stare and the way he clenched his jaw what he was thinking. He didn't think his life was worth hers. She rolled her eyes and started pacing. As he watched her move back and forth, he noticed her attire for the first time. She wasn't dressed as she was the last time he saw her and it made his palms start to sweat.

"Beverly?"

"What?" she responded sharply.

"What are you wearing?" he asked, not knowing whether to smile or be embarrassed.

She looked down to her clothing and shrugged. It was similar to the red tunic he wore only hers was black, shorter (much shorter) and had a sash that was tied tightly around her narrow waist. "It was suggested that I change after I first arrived," she said sarcastically.

"Into that?"

"Into this." The flat tone in her voice held no amusement and no further information. Once again she rolled her eyes and began to sit down on the bed. "What is wrong with you?"

"It's…uh…it's just very…short," he said with a quick tilt of his head toward her retreating hemline. His eyes had almost fallen out of his head when she sat. The damn thing nearly reached her mid thigh when she was standing. And now that she was sitting…well it didn't leave much to the imagination.

"Oh." She quickly straightened up and pulled at the bottom of the material.

"I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable. I'm just not used to seeing you dressed like that. At least not anymore." His cheeks flushed as his mind recalled the visuals associated with his last comment.

Before they were co-workers…before they were even friends, Beverly Howard was as much an object of Jean-Luc's desire and affection as she was about 95% of Starfleet and the Academy's male population. And so were her legs. It wasn't a secret that Beverly had an amazing pair. Anywhere she went they became or had already become legend. They were a sight to behold.

They still were.

Much to Jean-Luc's dismay, he had not seen them uncovered in a long, long time. A smile tugged at his mouth as he remembered the summers they'd spent together in their younger years. Beverly and Jack had always spent those few months at a beach house in San Francisco. It was a tradition they started after their first year of dating. So as Jack Crusher's best friend, Jean-Luc had accompanied them for a lot of those vacations.

They were always hot…to the point where it was most desirable to wear the least amount of clothing possible. He loved the days filled with their heat and sun and shorts and bikinis. And Beverly.

"Hey," Beverly said softly, touching Jean-Luc's shoulder.

He turned toward her. "Hey," he said back just as soft.

"Where'd you go?"

He laughed and shook his head. She always could read him in an instant. It made hiding from her just that much harder.

"San Francisco." He smiled.

"The summers." A very familiar brightness shined from her eyes, sparking across the dankness of the cell they now inhabited.

"Yes."

"And just what about them were you thinking about, Jean-Luc?"

His entire face from his chin to the top of his head turned a light red. Beverly bit her lip and reached out to run her finger along the outside of his blushing ear. He cleared his throat and thought about stepping away. Just as he'd gathered all his resolve, she looped their arms then slid her fingers through his.

"Jean-Luc? Am I embarrassing you?"

He tensed immediately at the contact. God, the things she could do to him with a simple touch. After a few seconds, he managed to relax then shifted to face her.

"I was…I was just thinking about how sunny it used to get on those beaches. How hot."

"They certainly did," she replied with a humorous inflection in her voice. Her eyes narrowed as she continued to look at him. "But that wouldn't have made you blush like you are," she added mischievously.

A suspicious smirk formed on his lips as he locked his eyes with hers. "You're toying with me."

"At a time like this?" Her voice playfully floated around him as she arched an eyebrow. After he smiled at her, she tugged on his arm and tilted her head toward the bed. "Come on," she said lightly, leading him with a gentle pull. "Sit. You look awful."

He let her lead him back to the rough mattress then sat down hesitantly and released a breath of relief as he felt his muscles loosen. Beverly knelt in front of him and scanned down his body once more, searching for wounds. When her eyes spotted a few rather vicious looking bruises, she reached out to touch them.

"That hurts," Jean-Luc hissed.

"It doesn't look like they did too much damage. Physically." She ran her hands down his arms and wrapped his hands within hers again. Her warm fingers stroked his wrists. Stopping suddenly, she looked down and gasped at the inflamed marks that now stained his skin. "They had you restrained?" she asked, running her fingers over his injuries.

"Yes," he replied, pulling away from her grip, "they did."

"Jean-Luc, let me see," she said, reaching for him.

"There's nothing you can do about them now, Beverly." He absently rubbed at the marks, almost wishing it would cause the redness to disappear.

Her brow furrowed as she watched him. "Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore."

"I'm sorry," she said quickly.

"What for?"

"That they hurt you."

Jean-Luc offered her a weak smile. "I'm just glad you're alright."

"I don't even know why I'm here." She shook her head then stood to pace in front of the bed a few times. "They've barely said a word to me. All they do is throw in some food in every so often. The longest conversation I've had with them is about my attire. Even then it was mostly one sided."

He got up from his seat and stalked to the far end of the cell. His eyes bore into a crack in the cement wall until everything became a dull gray blur. After shaking his head and blinking his eyes multiple times, he lifted his hand and traced the jagged line with his finger.

Beverly watched him, knowing all too well that he was hiding something. "Jean," she said gently. "What's the matter?"

His eyes closed as her warm breath hit his neck. A sigh ripped through him. He couldn't do this. He couldn't tell her why she was taken captive.

"Please," she pleaded, "don't hide from me. Not now."

"Me."

"You?" Beverly reached up and gripped his shoulder. She pulled on it until he was facing her. "You what?"

"I'm the reason you're here."

"Don't blame yourself, Jean-Luc. I willingly and consciously made the decision to come back for you." She smiled and cupped his face. "It's my stupid fault I got caught. I knew I was outnumbered but I just couldn't lea–"

"No, Beverly. They keep you here because of me."

Beverly narrowed her eyes and searched his face for answers. "I don't understand. How would…why would…they didn't even know that I would come back for you. I didn't even know until we reached that cliff. Something in me screamed that I should return. So if I'm here because of you how did they orchestrate that?" She paused for a few moments then tilted toward him. "Jean-Luc, why are they holding you here?"

Jean-Luc cleared the emotion from his face and voice. "At first he was trying to find out about defense strategies at Minos Korva," he said flatly to the spot he focused on at the end of his nose. "He kept that line of questioning for a while. But then it changed. He…"

She ran her fingers up his chest, coming to an abrupt stop when she found the cut. Her eyes widened as a gasp slipped past her lips. "He's been torturing you." Her brows furrowed sympathetically as she felt around the injury. "Does it hurt?"

"Not as much as the device implanted beneath it." He absorbed the pained look in her eyes…the eyes he loved more than any others he'd seen in all the galaxies he's traveled for more than half his life. "Why are you here?" he asked suddenly disoriented. He shifted his gaze to look past her. His eyes grew dull as he realized what the situation meant.

"Jean-Luc?" she asked. "Are you okay?"

He moved his focus back to her. "After everything, why would he put me in here with you?" His shoulders slumped. "You're not real," he said in a dejected tone.

"I assure you that I am." She gave him a smile in attempt to lessen his anxiety.

"It doesn't make sense." He shook his head and walked stiffly away from her. "He had to have known that seeing you would give me comfort. And that is the last thing he wanted me to feel."

He started to pace. It was slow at first but as his mind began racing so did his legs. He shook his head and muttered to himself about how this wasn't right.

"Jean-Luc, please sit down. Listen to me," she begged as she tried to keep up with his motions. She held her hands out and tried to touch his shoulder but he jerked away from her.

"No," he said with a new coldness in his eyes, "you aren't real."

"Why do you keep saying that?"

"It's true, isn't it?" he asked, turning to face her. He half expected to hear that laugh and cold voice. He half expected for the cell walls to fade away and explode back into that room he'd been in. His eyes shifted up, thinking he'd see the post that his restraints would be locked into.

Long silences passed as he waited for his comfort to be ripped from him. His eyes shut tightly. He couldn't watch as she was torn away. Of all the torture he'd endured, that would be the one he wouldn't be able to withstand.

"My God," she uttered. The emotional waves crashing off him stole away her breath. "What have they done to you?" she whispered. In three long strides, she came to him. She placed her hands on his shoulders and held him tightly. Her eyes bore into him, determination cutting across her crystal blue irises. "This is real, Jean-Luc Picard," she said sharply. "I am real."

His eyes remained closed as he steeled himself against her adamant words. He could feel her staring at him but he couldn't bear to open his eyes. Yet somehow with one graceful touch of her hand on his cheek she lifted the barrier. She took a steadying breath and focused on him. Then her own eyelids fell shut as she pushed away the distance between them.

"I am real," she whispered right before her lips touched his.

Before he knew it she'd dulled his defenses. His hands found her waist. He pulled her closer and moved his mouth with hers. He sighed as her fingers gripped tightly at his shirt. Her determination passed through him with each movement of her lips. His hands slid up her body until they reached her face. He framed it with his gentle hands then pulled away.

She was still there.

His head swarmed with thoughts and emotions. Then the clarity that had just shot through him slowly started to fade away. He stumbled back.

"Jean-Luc!" she screamed as she barely caught him.

He slumped to the floor, his head falling lifelessly to the side.

"Shit," she cursed to herself, wishing she had her god damned tricorder. "Jean-Luc!"

She ran her hands over his face and down his neck. She'd have to improvise since she didn't have any medical supplies. Her fingers shook as she felt for his pulse. Her heart unclenched when she felt its steady rhythm. Lowering her head, she put her ear close to his mouth. His breathing sounded fine. She pulled away to look at him, her palm cupping his cheek.

With a start, he opened his eyes. They clouded in confusion as he tried to reorient himself. His eyes narrowed as if to block out bright light.

"Beverly?"

"Jean-Luc," she sighed, relieved.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. We were just…you fainted."

He took a deep breath and stood. A smile formed on his face as he looked around the room. A soft noise hummed in his throat as he tilted his face up toward the ceiling.

"I love this place," he said in a contented voice.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, a scowl forming on her brow.

He opened his eyes and looked at her. "This," he said waving his arm in front of him.

She followed his indicated path. His arm swept by past the dirty toilet and the small sink in the corner. She frowned.

"You're not making any sense. Did you hit your head?" she asked, pulling on his chin to inspect his head.

"Stop it," he said with a smile while taking her hand in his. "I'm just sorry Jack couldn't be here."

"Jean…" She gasped. Her voice lowered to a horse whisper. "Why…why would you bring up Jack?"

"You know he loved this beach, Beverly."

Her eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"

He inhaled deeply. "I always loved the smell off the bay. The holodecks really don't do it any justice."

"Jean-Luc," she snapped.

He shifted his eyes to her. "Beverly, relax. It's too beautiful…you're too beautiful for such hostility. Just enjoy it."

"What is wrong with you?" she asked, concern shooting off her.

A laugh rumbled in his stomach as he advanced toward her. "There's something I need to tell you," he said leaning in toward her.

Her breath hitched in her chest as she moved backward, taking a step away from him then another and another. She only stopped with the back wall hindered any more movement. To her surprise, he stepped right into her.

"Jean-Luc," she whispered with a panicked urgency in her voice.

"Beverly, I need you," he murmured.

She gasped and placed her hands on his chest. "What are you…" Her arms tensed as she attempted to push him away.

He laughed. "No…I didn't mean like that," he said, his deep voice vibrating against her. His head bent to the side as he took a few deep breaths. "For a long time…for too long…I've needed to tell you something. But I've been a fool. I let fear control me."

Another deep breath filled his chest as he prepared to bare it all to her. He reached out and ran his hand down the trunk of the tree under which they stood. It was rough under his touch. Pulling away he looked to make sure he hadn't scraped his fingers.

She looked down as he ran his thumb over his fingertips. What was going on? In the last ten minutes something drastic had happened.

"Jean-Luc?" she asked hesitantly. "Where are you?"

"On my favorite San Francisco beach with my best friend," he answered with a smile. "We used to spend so much time here when we were younger. The three of us. Do you remember?"

"Of course, I remember."

"It's nice to be back." He stared out in the distance and listened to the waves break on the beach.

She licked her lips and stared at him. He was obviously trapped inside some delusion. Looking into his eyes, she searched for an answer for any of her questions. Within the hazel she saw a murky cloud.

"Jean-Luc," she said gently. "Look at me."

When his eyes moved, she could see it. They must have given him some kind of drug. He was hallucinating.

"Are you feeling alright?" she asked, her doctor-ly concern apparent in her voice.

"I haven't felt better in a long time." He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. "Now back to what I was saying." Instead of continuing on with whatever he wanted to say, he tightened his hold on her and leaned down to kiss her.

She momentarily got lost in the feeling. His lips moved gently against hers as his fingers carefully gripped at her. A small moan sounded in her throat. As he paused to take a breath, she seized the opportunity and tilted away from him.

"Jean-Luc," she said quietly as he shifted toward her again. "We shouldn't. You're…you're not quite yourself."

"Trust me when I say I've never felt better. I'm in one of my favorite places on Earth, with one of my favorite people. The most gorgeous, kind, caring person in all the galaxies."

"And now I know you aren't feeling like yourself," she said chuckling.

"You're a very beautiful woman, Beverly Crusher."

"I, too, am beginning to believe in your theory that none of this is real," she said in between kisses.

"I've wasted so much time," Jean-Luc muttered as he kissed down her neck. "So much time."

Beverly sighed and placed her hand over Jan-Luc's strong jaw. Her fingers grazed the back of his head as she pulled him away from her. "Jean-Luc, I'll never forgive myself if I let you do this." She licked her lips and stared into his eyes. "You're under the influence of something…I don't know if we should be…"

He stopped her with a kiss. "Please believe me when I tell you this," he said kissing her again. "I've never wanted anything more than you." He broke through her last defense.

"Fuck," she breathed out as his tongue weaved into her mouth.

She'd tried so hard to stop him even though every part of her being wanted to succumb. He wasn't acting like himself; she knew that. And somewhere deep down she knew he knew it too. The last thing she wanted from this experience was for him to have any regrets. She'd wanted this too long to have to live the rest of her life with that.

His fingers worked nimbly down her body then skillfully started to untie the sash around her waist. She felt the tension of it release as it fell to the floor. His hands slowly gathered the material. She felt the cold concrete of the wall hit her skin as her tunic lifted over her body. A few seconds later it hit the floor in a soft rustle.

As they moved toward the bed, everything was a blur of movement and emotion. Their bodies seemed to fit together like lost pieces finding their home. She'd never felt anything so pure and so perfect.

"Beverly," Jean-Luc moaned into her ear.

Soft kisses trailed after the sound of his voice. Her skin tingled at the sensation. She was never going to get out of this alive.

His mouth once again met hers in a passionate kiss. Their tongues lazily circled each other's as every inch of their bodies met. When Beverly opened her eyes she noticed that the cold, dark cell had drifted away and she also found herself on that San Francisco beach.

Perhaps had she been more focused on her surroundings she would have been suspicious about the setting change. But she was too absorbed in him to question anything. She could feel the sand beneath their bodies, she could hear the waves crashing on the beach, she could smell that distinct bay breeze. And after years and years of secretly loving him, she was finally showing him how much he meant to her.

As he looked at her face, his heart swelled at the look of content it held. God, did he love when she smiled. And this time, he was the one putting it there. So many things flew through his mind as he continued to watch her. He wrapped his arm around her slim waist and pulled her into his side. When she snuggled into him he thought, 'If I died today, I would at least be dying happy.'

…

End note: I forgot to mention that I'm big on music. I usually have a playlist when I write containing songs that either have lyrics that I feel carry on a certain theme for the chapter. Sometimes I rely on them heavily, others times not so much. But I do like to let readers know…I feel it kind of gives a little insight into my thought process. I also think it's difficult for people to relate to these types of things if they've never heard the songs before so I'm going to try and link them for you so you can hopefully hear what I hear. Here's the link for Come Home by OneRepublic: .com/watch?v=kvA7Ej9N_5Y