The third of the trilogy. You probably at least want to skim the prior
stories for some context. Please enjoy - please review! Any comments about
the trilogy as a whole are also appreciated.
Of course - Paramount = Q = omnipotent = all fun, no profit.
*************
Sabotage III
Chapter One
*************
Beverly Crusher would never call Jean-Luc Picard an arrogant bastard, but the look in her eyes said it for her. Very few words had actually been exchanged on the bridge of the Enterprise, but the non-verbal communication had spoken volumes. Crusher stood directly in front of the Captain, feet apart, arms crossed, shoulders squared. Picard stood rigidly and silently, having almost leapt from his seat moments earlier. Their eyes were locked. Riker and Troi flanked Picard, still seated and absolutely taken aback. Will thought he'd talked some sense into Picard the day before - but it seems the effect was temporary. He squirmed uncomfortably in his chair, which seemed unusually restrictive. The previous chill between the feuding officers had done an abrupt about-face and was now an all-out explosion of angry emotions.
Troi regarded the pair. The long-ignored spark between them had ignited - there was clearly a lot of passion, but definitely the wrong kind. They tore into each other as none other on the ship would dare. The issue they argued now was trivial - clearly a proxy for the anger between them. The moments separating each verbal attack were filled with heavy silence. Even the steady hum of the engines seemed to fade into the background, while the air crackled with intensity.
From his post at the rear of the bridge, Lieutenant Jack Walker also stared at the exchange. Nothing could have delighted him more. With the entire ship distracted by the fireworks between Captain and CMO, there would be little time for anyone to notice what he was up to. The M'dar had learned well from their Cardassian allies. The mission outline he'd been given had almost worked too well - and by next week he'd be in a far quadrant of the galaxy while the dust of the Enterprise floated through the sector.
Data regarded the scene, nonplussed. The behavior was not what was expected of senior officers, but he had come to learn that the Enterprise was seldom run according to texts and protocol. However, what he witnessed now was extreme, even for disagreements typical of the Captain and Doctor. He glanced around the bridge. The ensign next to him on the conn was seemingly engrossed in calculations, as were the two science officers to the aft. Commander Riker was visibly shaken, as was Counsellor Troi. Lieutenant Walker, while giving the appearance of disinterest, seemed almost pleased. While Data was, of course, incapable of emotion, he surmised that if he could dislike people, he would most certainly dislike Jack Walker.
He was distracted from his study of the bridge officers when Picard suddenly broke the silence. For the past 10 seconds he and Crusher had simply stared at the other, neither willing to blink. Finally, he had caved.
"You will follow my orders, Doctor, or you will be relieved. You are dismissed. Leave my bridge. Now."
Crusher did not move. She uncrossed her arms and placed them firmly on her hips, appearing to defy Picard. It seemed she was not done with the discussion.
Picard simply sat, crossed his legs, and began tapping at a padd resting on the arm of his chair. He would speak no further, and Crusher could not argue with a wall of silence. She would be forced into retreat. The longer she stood, the worse it played for her. Picard had not become a preeminent captain and diplomat without a thorough command of battle tactics.
Crusher knew she'd lost this round, but she would not leave without a parting shot. Her expression changed abruptly, and she now smiled radiantly. Picard did not appear to notice. Crusher turned on her heel, cruised up to Walker, and began to whisper in his ear. Walker became extremely uncomfortable, looked intently at the ground. Crusher's lips danced at his temple, and still grinning, she kissed him on the cheek before gliding off the bridge and on to the lift.
"See you tonite, Jack." With that, the doors swished shut.
The Captain maintained his reserve, but his face was graven and his eyes almost black. The Doctor's parting shot had hit the mark - dead on.
*************
Picard sat tersely in his ready room, practically glaring at the monitor on the table.
"Admiral, have you made any progress with the M'dar situation?"
"Negative, Captain. We're onto their activities on several ships, and all the suspected officers are being closely watched. Unless they're in their quarters, their movements are monitored."
Necheyev sat back in her chair, as a young officer approached and offered her a padd. She studied it, briefly holding a finger up at Picard while she did so. Internally he fumed. He was not an ensign who would wait patiently while Necheyev attended her paperwork. He cleared his throat. Necheyev set down the padd and leveled her gaze back at the monitor. The chain of command between the two was clearly defined. But Picard was not just another Captain, and was often treated with great deference among the admiralty.
"Jean-Luc, I understand your discomfort. But the M'dar have presented themselves as a legitimate guerilla threat, and we desperately need intelligence."
Picard brought a hand to his lips, and sat forward, appearing to speak. He paused for a moment before resting his hands on his table and reclining.
"Understood Admiral. Lieutenant Data has not made significant progress in his research into Walker's activities. However, I have reason to believe that we may discover more information soon. I will relay anything significant as soon as it's available."
"We'll do the same on our end, Captain. We're already processing the information you sent us this morning. Necheyev out." She sat forward briskly and tapped the monitor. It went black, the familiar Starfleet insignia now blankly staring back at Picard.
Picard drummed his fingers on the tabletop and sat otherwise motionless, his countenance somber.
**********
Crusher had spent the morning inundated with broken bones and sprains. The annual Enterprise Paresi Squares tournament was in four days, and practice had reached a fever pitch. Beverly had tried innumerable times to talk Riker out of organizing it, but so far no luck. She'd threatened more than once to make its demise an official medical recommendation and send it into HQ, but somehow Will had talked her out of it. Right now, she couldn't remember what he'd said, but it must have been good.
"Alyssa!"
The spritely nurse appeared momentarily in the doorway. "Yes boss?"
Crusher grinned crookedly, her lips tight. "How's it going out there?"
Powell smiled back "We're recovering. Luckily the holodecks are down for the rest of the day for maintenance. It's buying us some time."
Crusher waved her index finger at Powell. "Alyssa, the very next time I see Will Riker, I'm putting a stop to this. And don't let me back down this time!"
Alyssa gave her a salute. "Aye sir - but Tom might be a little disappointed."
Beverly groaned. "Don't tell me."
Powell shrugged and turned, headed back into the main bay. Crusher rubbed her temples and picked up a padd. The com chirped.
"Lieutenant Walker to Doctor Crusher."
She sat back in her chair and tapped her shoulder. "Crusher here."
"Beverly, I hope you meant what you said on the bridge this morning." His tone was solicitous.
Crusher raised her eyebrow. "Every word of it."
"Well then, my day just got a whole lot brighter, sugar. I'll see you tonite." Walker's voice dripped charm.
Crusher smiled sardonically. "Try to contain yourself until the end of your shift, crewman. We wouldn't want to blow up anything accidentally."
"The only explosions on this ship will be tonite - in my quarters."
"Mmmmm. Well then, I promise I won't be late. Crusher out."
Walker stepped off the turbolift and back onto the bridge, practically beaming. He hadn't even engineered that little battle with Picard. He'd just set the ball in motion by seducing Crusher. The two of them had taken it from there - and man were they running with it. Well, his grandma always used to say that the only way to really hate someone was if you really loved them first. One more for grandma.
"Something you care to share with us, Lieutenant?" Picard's tone was low. He'd practically growled.
Walker cleared his throat and checked his station, standing a bit straighter. That man was getting on his nerves. Hot broad or not, he was itching to get off the ship. "No sir."
Picard tugged on his tunic. "Very well then. As you were."
"Aye sir."
**********
The stalemate between Starfleet and the M'dar dragged at the M'dar homeworld, but Chancellor H'rar sat in his bunker unaffected. They'd moved the military headquarters months previous, and were still in touch with each of their agents. The plan was still in motion, and the Cardassians were massing ships in strategic positions to move in as soon as the first wave of Starfleet ships went down. Additionally, they were feeding faulty intelligence directly to Starfleet, who was already busy monitoring the wrong officers. He allowed himself a small measure of satisfaction. Starfleet had already foiled him once, and he would not underestimate them. This time, they had built in red herrings, redundancy - hopefully it would all be enough to tip the balance of power to the Cardassians. And through them, the M'dar.
**********
Crusher herself could barely make it through her shift. For the fifth time in as many minutes she undid and redid the clips in her long light auburn hair. She still had no intention of letting Riker off the hook, but was glad for the distraction provided by a busy sickbay. Her stomach was doing flip flops as she thought of the evening ahead. There had been quite a scene on the bridge that morning, and she knew Walker would expect to hear about it. They'd have dinner, they'd talk, and after that, well, Crusher hoped their would be wine......
She glanced at the chronometer at the bottom of her station. Walker would be by any minute.
"How's my beautiful Doctor doing this fine evening?" Right on cue. Crusher looked up. There he was - tanned, toned, and waiting for her. Internally she shuddered.
"I'm great - how was your shift?" Beverly favored him with what she hoped was a wining smile as she unclipped her hair. She put the clips in the pocket of her lab coat, and unconsciously fingered the hypo there. She hoped she wouldn't need it later.
"Well it was a long day - but I feel just fine now." Walker came over and put an arm around her, guiding her out from behind the desk and toward the door. She leaned on his shoulder as they left, for all the world appearing to be a couple in love.
They went back to Walker's quarters. They'd eaten a fabulous meal, and Beverly almost forgot her discomfort. The man was charming.
"So, if I can ask, what happened on the bridge this morning?" Walker took her hand and gazed at her inquisitively.
Laughing, Beverly shook her head and looked away. She waved her hand dismissively. "It was nothing. I'm just so tired of Jean Luc Picard telling everyone how to do their job. Honestly Walker, I just don't know how much longer I can live like this." She became quiet and introspective, gazing toward the viewport.
"Beverly." Walker's eyes were wide, and again he took her hand. "Beverly, I think you know how I feel about you. I'd hate for you to leave the ship."
"I know. I'm getting used to seeing you around myself." She smiled slightly and squeezed his hand. Suddenly, her expression turned sour, and she became quite pale.
"Beverly, is something wrong?" Walker gazed at her in concern. It would not do to have her sick - he'd be vulnerable to Picard if Beverly were out of commission.
"Yes, I think I'm OK. Excuse me," she mumbled weakly. Crusher rose abruptly and rushed toward the bathroom. Within minutes, Walker heard the unmistakable sounds of someone who was extremely ill. He got up and knocked on the door.
"Beverly, are you all right?"
"I think so - but I need to get to sickbay, ASAP. Can you please call nurse Powell to escort me?"
"Sure - but I can take you down."
"Walker thank you - you're sweet." The doors parted, and Crusher leaned on the doorframe, a distinct green tinge to her usually creamy, but now mottled, complexion. She patted him on the shoulder. "But Alyssa can bring a medkit to get me stabilized for the trip. I'd like to not make a scene on the way."
"OK - sure. Hold on."
Minutes later, and two more trips to the head for Doctor Crusher, Powell appeared. "Doctor - are you alright?" She seemed curious and concerned.
Crusher nodded slightly. "I'll live, but I've certainly felt better."
"Can you walk?"
"Yes - just give me 5cc's of prednisine to get rid of the nausea."
"Sure thing." Alyssa loaded the hypo, and they headed toward the door. Walker gently took Crusher's arm.
"Beverly, let me know how you turn out."
She smiled wanly. "Sure thing - but don't wait up - I'm headed back to my quarters. I'll see you tomorrow."
He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. "Be well."
The two women headed slowly down the corridor, the taller leaning heavily on the petite brunette.
**********
"Thanks Alyssa. I'm sure I'll be fine now. Just something I ate." The excuse sounded pathetic, even as she spoke. Crusher sat on the biobed, tricorder in hand.
"I'm still not sure why you got sick, Doctor." Alyssa favored her with a distinctly skeptical glance.
"Just one of those things." Beerly shrugged. Now Powell new something was up - Crusher would never accept such a vague diagnosis for any patient. But she trusted her CMO, and knew she valued her privacy.
"Just please call if you have any other symptoms. And get some rest. I don't expect to see you here until mid-shift tomorrow." She looked stern. "I mean that. Whatever it was really did a number on your stomach."
'Don't I know it,' Crusher thought to herself. She had cooked up an herbal drug to induce nausea, but apparently she'd gone a little overboard. She slid down off the bed and headed for the door. "See you tomorrow Alyssa. And thank you." She waved her hand as she called over her shoulder.
As quickly as she could she hurried toward the lift. "Computer, time?"
"0100 hours."
Beverly would almost be late. She repeatedly pushed the call button for the lift. It wouldn't get it there any faster, but it did make her feel better.
***********
"Deck 2." Jean Luc Picard stood in the lift, still in his uniform. It was beginning to scratch him at the collar. He drummed his fingers at his sides. Realizing that his nerves were showing, he abruptly stopped, as did the lift. He exited and headed toward the arboretum. He was late.
Standing at the entrance, he glanced down the hallway toward the lift. "Computer, current occupants of the arboretum?"
"Doctor Beverly Crusher is in the arboretum."
He stepped forward and the pneumatic doors swooshed open. It was almost pitch black. He heard nothing but the hum of the engines and the artificial waterfall at the back of the ship's gardens.
"Computer, lights, 25%." He walked forward along the path. He saw Crusher reclining on a bench near the water.
"Beverly?" He moved toward her and sat down next to her.
"Ugh." Crusher groaned. "Jean Luc, we've got to stop meeting like this."
"Beverly, you look awful."
"Please Captain, I'm blushing." She chuckled.
Picard put his hand on her forehead. "Beverly, do you have a fever? Should we be in sickbay?"
"Already been there Jean Luc, got my walking papers minutes ago. It wasn't easy to fool Alyssa - or to get her to stop questioning me. You've got quite a medical staff on this ship."
"I should think so. They work for you, after all."
"Now that's better. I like a little flattery with my surreptitious late night meetings. Honestly though, I don't know how long I can do this. Walker will get suspicious if I keep throwing up after dinner every nite."
"Throwing up? Beverly, what did you do to yourself?" Picard leaned in and took her hand, concerned. This time, Beverly felt genuinely comforted.
"I had to make it convincing. I think I went overboard." She leaned back and closed her eyes. Picard ran his hand over her temple and down her jaw. She seemed very fragile.
Gently she took his hand and set it back at his lap. "Like I said Jean Luc, a furlough." She regarded him sternly. "I am certainly glad to see you. But you're on probation."
Picard sat forward and adjusted his tunic. "Beverly, I am merely concerned about a member of my crew who is taking on a rather difficult assignment. And, after your performance on the bridge today, I think you owe me one." With that he smiled.
Crusher met his gaze and smiled back. "I know. I'm good, aren't I?"
"You had Will *and* Deanna convinced. And, at times, myself as well." He wagged a finger at her.
Eyebrows arched, Beverly regarded him. "The important thing is that Walker was convinced."
"And?"
"As far as I can tell, mission accomplished."
Picard shifted again, facing the water. "Beverly, I'm still not sure about the wisdom of this endeavor. You could easily be hurt."
"Too late Jean-Luc. I've been hurt already." She smiled crookedly, her eyes a million miles away. "Now I want to nail that bastard." Her skin was no longer pale, but now flushed. "And, even Starfleet Command acknowledges that we need this intelligence. I'm in a good position to get it. Besides, it's rather cloak and dagger - it puts Dixon Hill to shame." Her eyes twinkled. "Not that I miss seeing you in that adorable fedora."
"Certainly not." Picard sighed heavily and leaned forward. He tilted his head and gazed at the prone physician. His tone was somber. "Have you found anything new?"
"Not yet. I've been busy with other things in sickbay, thanks to Will Riker and his Paresi Squares obsession." Crusher's tone was infinitely sarcastic. Picard chuckled richly. "I'm still trying to isolate the compound in Walker's arm, and I've got Data on it too. I think he suspects our charade, Jean Luc."
"Lieutenant Commander Data is the soul of discretion. I trust him to keep our plan safe. But I'll speak to him about it in the morning."
"I think that would be wise. He was quite puzzled about my investigation into Walker. As far as he knows, you and Riker are the only other two who are suspicious of the Lieutenant."
Talk of their conspiracy against Walker expired, and a cloak of uncomfortable silence descended. They had not resolved the origins of their original conflict, but instead had chosen to focus on defeating Walker and the M'dar. Now they had little to say.
Droplets from the waterfall quietly sprayed the nearby flora, which gave off a subtly pleasing aroma. In the dim lighting, it was difficult to make out anything more than a meter away. Two silhouettes sat motionless in the early morning, both consumed by swirling emotions. Beverly was still upset with Picard, but she could not deny that she did not want to leave yet. It was hard pretending to care for Walker, and being next to Jean Luc was comforting - it made her feel strong. Picard had not stopped wanting to pursue a relationship with Crusher, and it was difficult to maintain the distance that she demanded.
"Well." Crusher rose and stretched. She recognized that he would not leave until she was ready. She did love him dearly. "It's late Jean Luc."
"Yes." He also stood, now facing Crusher. He took her hands in his. "Beverly, please be careful. Whatever you may think of me now, I consider you one of my best friends, and I would be hard-pressed to think of my life on this ship without you."
She cupped his face in her hand, and gazed directly into his eyes. "We've come through so much Jean Luc. And we have so much to look forward to. I wouldn't want to miss that." Her pale skin seemed luminescent in the low light. She leaned in and kissed his cheek firmly, then quickly pulled back. "But, like I said...... you're not off the hook just yet." She patted his cheek and then walked past him toward the door. Before leaving, she turned. "And Jean Luc, I'm sorry."
"For what Doctor?" His voice was thick and his eyes merry.
"You'll find out soon." She left him to no time to respond as she exited, labcoat flowing behind her. Picard exhaled, paused, and then strolled through the arboretum until he knew she'd have time to get to the lift. Shaking his head, he ordered the lights down and departed.
**************
Of course - Paramount = Q = omnipotent = all fun, no profit.
*************
Sabotage III
Chapter One
*************
Beverly Crusher would never call Jean-Luc Picard an arrogant bastard, but the look in her eyes said it for her. Very few words had actually been exchanged on the bridge of the Enterprise, but the non-verbal communication had spoken volumes. Crusher stood directly in front of the Captain, feet apart, arms crossed, shoulders squared. Picard stood rigidly and silently, having almost leapt from his seat moments earlier. Their eyes were locked. Riker and Troi flanked Picard, still seated and absolutely taken aback. Will thought he'd talked some sense into Picard the day before - but it seems the effect was temporary. He squirmed uncomfortably in his chair, which seemed unusually restrictive. The previous chill between the feuding officers had done an abrupt about-face and was now an all-out explosion of angry emotions.
Troi regarded the pair. The long-ignored spark between them had ignited - there was clearly a lot of passion, but definitely the wrong kind. They tore into each other as none other on the ship would dare. The issue they argued now was trivial - clearly a proxy for the anger between them. The moments separating each verbal attack were filled with heavy silence. Even the steady hum of the engines seemed to fade into the background, while the air crackled with intensity.
From his post at the rear of the bridge, Lieutenant Jack Walker also stared at the exchange. Nothing could have delighted him more. With the entire ship distracted by the fireworks between Captain and CMO, there would be little time for anyone to notice what he was up to. The M'dar had learned well from their Cardassian allies. The mission outline he'd been given had almost worked too well - and by next week he'd be in a far quadrant of the galaxy while the dust of the Enterprise floated through the sector.
Data regarded the scene, nonplussed. The behavior was not what was expected of senior officers, but he had come to learn that the Enterprise was seldom run according to texts and protocol. However, what he witnessed now was extreme, even for disagreements typical of the Captain and Doctor. He glanced around the bridge. The ensign next to him on the conn was seemingly engrossed in calculations, as were the two science officers to the aft. Commander Riker was visibly shaken, as was Counsellor Troi. Lieutenant Walker, while giving the appearance of disinterest, seemed almost pleased. While Data was, of course, incapable of emotion, he surmised that if he could dislike people, he would most certainly dislike Jack Walker.
He was distracted from his study of the bridge officers when Picard suddenly broke the silence. For the past 10 seconds he and Crusher had simply stared at the other, neither willing to blink. Finally, he had caved.
"You will follow my orders, Doctor, or you will be relieved. You are dismissed. Leave my bridge. Now."
Crusher did not move. She uncrossed her arms and placed them firmly on her hips, appearing to defy Picard. It seemed she was not done with the discussion.
Picard simply sat, crossed his legs, and began tapping at a padd resting on the arm of his chair. He would speak no further, and Crusher could not argue with a wall of silence. She would be forced into retreat. The longer she stood, the worse it played for her. Picard had not become a preeminent captain and diplomat without a thorough command of battle tactics.
Crusher knew she'd lost this round, but she would not leave without a parting shot. Her expression changed abruptly, and she now smiled radiantly. Picard did not appear to notice. Crusher turned on her heel, cruised up to Walker, and began to whisper in his ear. Walker became extremely uncomfortable, looked intently at the ground. Crusher's lips danced at his temple, and still grinning, she kissed him on the cheek before gliding off the bridge and on to the lift.
"See you tonite, Jack." With that, the doors swished shut.
The Captain maintained his reserve, but his face was graven and his eyes almost black. The Doctor's parting shot had hit the mark - dead on.
*************
Picard sat tersely in his ready room, practically glaring at the monitor on the table.
"Admiral, have you made any progress with the M'dar situation?"
"Negative, Captain. We're onto their activities on several ships, and all the suspected officers are being closely watched. Unless they're in their quarters, their movements are monitored."
Necheyev sat back in her chair, as a young officer approached and offered her a padd. She studied it, briefly holding a finger up at Picard while she did so. Internally he fumed. He was not an ensign who would wait patiently while Necheyev attended her paperwork. He cleared his throat. Necheyev set down the padd and leveled her gaze back at the monitor. The chain of command between the two was clearly defined. But Picard was not just another Captain, and was often treated with great deference among the admiralty.
"Jean-Luc, I understand your discomfort. But the M'dar have presented themselves as a legitimate guerilla threat, and we desperately need intelligence."
Picard brought a hand to his lips, and sat forward, appearing to speak. He paused for a moment before resting his hands on his table and reclining.
"Understood Admiral. Lieutenant Data has not made significant progress in his research into Walker's activities. However, I have reason to believe that we may discover more information soon. I will relay anything significant as soon as it's available."
"We'll do the same on our end, Captain. We're already processing the information you sent us this morning. Necheyev out." She sat forward briskly and tapped the monitor. It went black, the familiar Starfleet insignia now blankly staring back at Picard.
Picard drummed his fingers on the tabletop and sat otherwise motionless, his countenance somber.
**********
Crusher had spent the morning inundated with broken bones and sprains. The annual Enterprise Paresi Squares tournament was in four days, and practice had reached a fever pitch. Beverly had tried innumerable times to talk Riker out of organizing it, but so far no luck. She'd threatened more than once to make its demise an official medical recommendation and send it into HQ, but somehow Will had talked her out of it. Right now, she couldn't remember what he'd said, but it must have been good.
"Alyssa!"
The spritely nurse appeared momentarily in the doorway. "Yes boss?"
Crusher grinned crookedly, her lips tight. "How's it going out there?"
Powell smiled back "We're recovering. Luckily the holodecks are down for the rest of the day for maintenance. It's buying us some time."
Crusher waved her index finger at Powell. "Alyssa, the very next time I see Will Riker, I'm putting a stop to this. And don't let me back down this time!"
Alyssa gave her a salute. "Aye sir - but Tom might be a little disappointed."
Beverly groaned. "Don't tell me."
Powell shrugged and turned, headed back into the main bay. Crusher rubbed her temples and picked up a padd. The com chirped.
"Lieutenant Walker to Doctor Crusher."
She sat back in her chair and tapped her shoulder. "Crusher here."
"Beverly, I hope you meant what you said on the bridge this morning." His tone was solicitous.
Crusher raised her eyebrow. "Every word of it."
"Well then, my day just got a whole lot brighter, sugar. I'll see you tonite." Walker's voice dripped charm.
Crusher smiled sardonically. "Try to contain yourself until the end of your shift, crewman. We wouldn't want to blow up anything accidentally."
"The only explosions on this ship will be tonite - in my quarters."
"Mmmmm. Well then, I promise I won't be late. Crusher out."
Walker stepped off the turbolift and back onto the bridge, practically beaming. He hadn't even engineered that little battle with Picard. He'd just set the ball in motion by seducing Crusher. The two of them had taken it from there - and man were they running with it. Well, his grandma always used to say that the only way to really hate someone was if you really loved them first. One more for grandma.
"Something you care to share with us, Lieutenant?" Picard's tone was low. He'd practically growled.
Walker cleared his throat and checked his station, standing a bit straighter. That man was getting on his nerves. Hot broad or not, he was itching to get off the ship. "No sir."
Picard tugged on his tunic. "Very well then. As you were."
"Aye sir."
**********
The stalemate between Starfleet and the M'dar dragged at the M'dar homeworld, but Chancellor H'rar sat in his bunker unaffected. They'd moved the military headquarters months previous, and were still in touch with each of their agents. The plan was still in motion, and the Cardassians were massing ships in strategic positions to move in as soon as the first wave of Starfleet ships went down. Additionally, they were feeding faulty intelligence directly to Starfleet, who was already busy monitoring the wrong officers. He allowed himself a small measure of satisfaction. Starfleet had already foiled him once, and he would not underestimate them. This time, they had built in red herrings, redundancy - hopefully it would all be enough to tip the balance of power to the Cardassians. And through them, the M'dar.
**********
Crusher herself could barely make it through her shift. For the fifth time in as many minutes she undid and redid the clips in her long light auburn hair. She still had no intention of letting Riker off the hook, but was glad for the distraction provided by a busy sickbay. Her stomach was doing flip flops as she thought of the evening ahead. There had been quite a scene on the bridge that morning, and she knew Walker would expect to hear about it. They'd have dinner, they'd talk, and after that, well, Crusher hoped their would be wine......
She glanced at the chronometer at the bottom of her station. Walker would be by any minute.
"How's my beautiful Doctor doing this fine evening?" Right on cue. Crusher looked up. There he was - tanned, toned, and waiting for her. Internally she shuddered.
"I'm great - how was your shift?" Beverly favored him with what she hoped was a wining smile as she unclipped her hair. She put the clips in the pocket of her lab coat, and unconsciously fingered the hypo there. She hoped she wouldn't need it later.
"Well it was a long day - but I feel just fine now." Walker came over and put an arm around her, guiding her out from behind the desk and toward the door. She leaned on his shoulder as they left, for all the world appearing to be a couple in love.
They went back to Walker's quarters. They'd eaten a fabulous meal, and Beverly almost forgot her discomfort. The man was charming.
"So, if I can ask, what happened on the bridge this morning?" Walker took her hand and gazed at her inquisitively.
Laughing, Beverly shook her head and looked away. She waved her hand dismissively. "It was nothing. I'm just so tired of Jean Luc Picard telling everyone how to do their job. Honestly Walker, I just don't know how much longer I can live like this." She became quiet and introspective, gazing toward the viewport.
"Beverly." Walker's eyes were wide, and again he took her hand. "Beverly, I think you know how I feel about you. I'd hate for you to leave the ship."
"I know. I'm getting used to seeing you around myself." She smiled slightly and squeezed his hand. Suddenly, her expression turned sour, and she became quite pale.
"Beverly, is something wrong?" Walker gazed at her in concern. It would not do to have her sick - he'd be vulnerable to Picard if Beverly were out of commission.
"Yes, I think I'm OK. Excuse me," she mumbled weakly. Crusher rose abruptly and rushed toward the bathroom. Within minutes, Walker heard the unmistakable sounds of someone who was extremely ill. He got up and knocked on the door.
"Beverly, are you all right?"
"I think so - but I need to get to sickbay, ASAP. Can you please call nurse Powell to escort me?"
"Sure - but I can take you down."
"Walker thank you - you're sweet." The doors parted, and Crusher leaned on the doorframe, a distinct green tinge to her usually creamy, but now mottled, complexion. She patted him on the shoulder. "But Alyssa can bring a medkit to get me stabilized for the trip. I'd like to not make a scene on the way."
"OK - sure. Hold on."
Minutes later, and two more trips to the head for Doctor Crusher, Powell appeared. "Doctor - are you alright?" She seemed curious and concerned.
Crusher nodded slightly. "I'll live, but I've certainly felt better."
"Can you walk?"
"Yes - just give me 5cc's of prednisine to get rid of the nausea."
"Sure thing." Alyssa loaded the hypo, and they headed toward the door. Walker gently took Crusher's arm.
"Beverly, let me know how you turn out."
She smiled wanly. "Sure thing - but don't wait up - I'm headed back to my quarters. I'll see you tomorrow."
He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. "Be well."
The two women headed slowly down the corridor, the taller leaning heavily on the petite brunette.
**********
"Thanks Alyssa. I'm sure I'll be fine now. Just something I ate." The excuse sounded pathetic, even as she spoke. Crusher sat on the biobed, tricorder in hand.
"I'm still not sure why you got sick, Doctor." Alyssa favored her with a distinctly skeptical glance.
"Just one of those things." Beerly shrugged. Now Powell new something was up - Crusher would never accept such a vague diagnosis for any patient. But she trusted her CMO, and knew she valued her privacy.
"Just please call if you have any other symptoms. And get some rest. I don't expect to see you here until mid-shift tomorrow." She looked stern. "I mean that. Whatever it was really did a number on your stomach."
'Don't I know it,' Crusher thought to herself. She had cooked up an herbal drug to induce nausea, but apparently she'd gone a little overboard. She slid down off the bed and headed for the door. "See you tomorrow Alyssa. And thank you." She waved her hand as she called over her shoulder.
As quickly as she could she hurried toward the lift. "Computer, time?"
"0100 hours."
Beverly would almost be late. She repeatedly pushed the call button for the lift. It wouldn't get it there any faster, but it did make her feel better.
***********
"Deck 2." Jean Luc Picard stood in the lift, still in his uniform. It was beginning to scratch him at the collar. He drummed his fingers at his sides. Realizing that his nerves were showing, he abruptly stopped, as did the lift. He exited and headed toward the arboretum. He was late.
Standing at the entrance, he glanced down the hallway toward the lift. "Computer, current occupants of the arboretum?"
"Doctor Beverly Crusher is in the arboretum."
He stepped forward and the pneumatic doors swooshed open. It was almost pitch black. He heard nothing but the hum of the engines and the artificial waterfall at the back of the ship's gardens.
"Computer, lights, 25%." He walked forward along the path. He saw Crusher reclining on a bench near the water.
"Beverly?" He moved toward her and sat down next to her.
"Ugh." Crusher groaned. "Jean Luc, we've got to stop meeting like this."
"Beverly, you look awful."
"Please Captain, I'm blushing." She chuckled.
Picard put his hand on her forehead. "Beverly, do you have a fever? Should we be in sickbay?"
"Already been there Jean Luc, got my walking papers minutes ago. It wasn't easy to fool Alyssa - or to get her to stop questioning me. You've got quite a medical staff on this ship."
"I should think so. They work for you, after all."
"Now that's better. I like a little flattery with my surreptitious late night meetings. Honestly though, I don't know how long I can do this. Walker will get suspicious if I keep throwing up after dinner every nite."
"Throwing up? Beverly, what did you do to yourself?" Picard leaned in and took her hand, concerned. This time, Beverly felt genuinely comforted.
"I had to make it convincing. I think I went overboard." She leaned back and closed her eyes. Picard ran his hand over her temple and down her jaw. She seemed very fragile.
Gently she took his hand and set it back at his lap. "Like I said Jean Luc, a furlough." She regarded him sternly. "I am certainly glad to see you. But you're on probation."
Picard sat forward and adjusted his tunic. "Beverly, I am merely concerned about a member of my crew who is taking on a rather difficult assignment. And, after your performance on the bridge today, I think you owe me one." With that he smiled.
Crusher met his gaze and smiled back. "I know. I'm good, aren't I?"
"You had Will *and* Deanna convinced. And, at times, myself as well." He wagged a finger at her.
Eyebrows arched, Beverly regarded him. "The important thing is that Walker was convinced."
"And?"
"As far as I can tell, mission accomplished."
Picard shifted again, facing the water. "Beverly, I'm still not sure about the wisdom of this endeavor. You could easily be hurt."
"Too late Jean-Luc. I've been hurt already." She smiled crookedly, her eyes a million miles away. "Now I want to nail that bastard." Her skin was no longer pale, but now flushed. "And, even Starfleet Command acknowledges that we need this intelligence. I'm in a good position to get it. Besides, it's rather cloak and dagger - it puts Dixon Hill to shame." Her eyes twinkled. "Not that I miss seeing you in that adorable fedora."
"Certainly not." Picard sighed heavily and leaned forward. He tilted his head and gazed at the prone physician. His tone was somber. "Have you found anything new?"
"Not yet. I've been busy with other things in sickbay, thanks to Will Riker and his Paresi Squares obsession." Crusher's tone was infinitely sarcastic. Picard chuckled richly. "I'm still trying to isolate the compound in Walker's arm, and I've got Data on it too. I think he suspects our charade, Jean Luc."
"Lieutenant Commander Data is the soul of discretion. I trust him to keep our plan safe. But I'll speak to him about it in the morning."
"I think that would be wise. He was quite puzzled about my investigation into Walker. As far as he knows, you and Riker are the only other two who are suspicious of the Lieutenant."
Talk of their conspiracy against Walker expired, and a cloak of uncomfortable silence descended. They had not resolved the origins of their original conflict, but instead had chosen to focus on defeating Walker and the M'dar. Now they had little to say.
Droplets from the waterfall quietly sprayed the nearby flora, which gave off a subtly pleasing aroma. In the dim lighting, it was difficult to make out anything more than a meter away. Two silhouettes sat motionless in the early morning, both consumed by swirling emotions. Beverly was still upset with Picard, but she could not deny that she did not want to leave yet. It was hard pretending to care for Walker, and being next to Jean Luc was comforting - it made her feel strong. Picard had not stopped wanting to pursue a relationship with Crusher, and it was difficult to maintain the distance that she demanded.
"Well." Crusher rose and stretched. She recognized that he would not leave until she was ready. She did love him dearly. "It's late Jean Luc."
"Yes." He also stood, now facing Crusher. He took her hands in his. "Beverly, please be careful. Whatever you may think of me now, I consider you one of my best friends, and I would be hard-pressed to think of my life on this ship without you."
She cupped his face in her hand, and gazed directly into his eyes. "We've come through so much Jean Luc. And we have so much to look forward to. I wouldn't want to miss that." Her pale skin seemed luminescent in the low light. She leaned in and kissed his cheek firmly, then quickly pulled back. "But, like I said...... you're not off the hook just yet." She patted his cheek and then walked past him toward the door. Before leaving, she turned. "And Jean Luc, I'm sorry."
"For what Doctor?" His voice was thick and his eyes merry.
"You'll find out soon." She left him to no time to respond as she exited, labcoat flowing behind her. Picard exhaled, paused, and then strolled through the arboretum until he knew she'd have time to get to the lift. Shaking his head, he ordered the lights down and departed.
**************