Summary: The story of "Chain of Command" as told from Dr. Crusher's POV.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns it, I have fun with it. I promise I won't make any money off of it!

Author's Note: Ok, this is the problem with being an English Major...eventually, you're gunna try to do what you read about. This is my attempt at a Margaret Laurence-like stream of consciousness. As you may have noticed by now, I like to do things from Bev's POV, I hope that's ok with everyone. As always, I'm very excited to hear what you have to say about this piece...please send me a review

Author's note #2: this story begins once Picard, Worf and Crusher are already en route to Cardassian space.

From the Inside, Out

Chapter One
Morning on a Ferengi freighter, could there be anything more beautiful? Ha. I roll over on the mattress (if that's what you can call it) that Worf graciously allowed me to sleep on last night. It's funny, I'd almost prefer the floor...who knows who was here before me. This place smells, feels unfamiliar: the mattress is contorted to fit another's body. Judging by the deep shoulder-blade indents, I'd say this bed has been occupied by a Klingon...sometime in the recent past...

I roll over, feeling the curve of my body push against the hard metal plank beneath my mattress; I decide its time to get up.

I enter the main passenger area, where the Ferengi and Jean-Luc sit in silence, monitoring the autopilot on the shuttlecraft. I can't help but wonder if they are busying themselves to fill the silence with purpose. I bet Jean-Luc still feels a little embarrassed about that whole me-seducing-a-Ferengi thing...I know I do. Using my body, my fingers...for a mission. It makes me feel used, dirty. I wish Jean had not seen that. Stop, stop. I will not taint this time. From the moment we left the Enterprise, I've had a sinking feeling that Jean-Luc, Worf and I are not meant to return from this mission. Theta band radiation: to stop that the federation would surely send three lowly officers to their death in Cardassian space.

If there is one glimmer of hope in this entire thing, I feel it is Jean-Luc's presence here. If anyone can save us, it's him. He's gotten out of worse than this. He will save me.

"Good Morning," he greets me as I enter the room, seemingly relieved to have someone for conversation other than the great Solak. Ugh. Just thinking of his name makes me shudder in remembrance of what I did to get us on this ship. There. Did he just look at me, did he just check me out? Is he waiting for me to follow-through on my flirtations? No, no. I'm just projecting my guilt from the incident. There. I saw it. He glanced at me again. Holding my right arm protectively across my body, I sit. I sit in the chair closest to Jean-Luc, hoping for...oh I don't know, just comfort I guess. Yes, comfort in his presence.

I smile in acknowledgement of Jean-Luc's greeting and wait for him to speak. I know that he has a sort of, waiting-to-fill-me-in-on-something kind of look. You know, with his eyebrows raised, hands ready to gesture as he speaks. I love that I know him this well.

"I hope you slept well." He states. Not a question, just a statement, he doesn't really want to know...just being polite...just filling the gap in conversation. I nod and wait for him to continue, knowing the pleasantries are over.

"Mr. Worf has been preparing the equipment for our expedition in the back. Our ETA is approximately 20 minutes so I suggest you start assembling your own equipment, doctor..." There's my title, not my name. He's speaking very distantly. Probably for many reasons. It's going to be all business today. Today, well, we'll probably die today. The thought sends a kind of cold rush across my chest. Oh god. Oh god. I'm going to die. I didn't say good-bye to Deanna. I didn't clean my quarters. I didn't finish my reports. Jean-Luc. What if he dies? I didn't call my nana on her birthday...

Jean-Luc is still talking. I'm nodding, I am listening. I quickly re-check my composure, trying to seem professional. Sitting up straight, arms at my sides, in spite of my temptation to put them across my body: that damn Ferengi is staring again.

He's done. "Yes, Captain. And I suggest that we run one more quick bio-scan before beaming down. I doubt any of the preliminary reports for this mission were made from this close to the planet. We may pick up something harmful that wouldn't register on a long-range scan."

"Agreed" he replies, "ETA is in 15 minutes, we'll meet at the transporter at that time."

I'm up, I'm out of the room. I guess that was a normal conversation, was there anything in his voice? Any emotion? Am I just wishing it were there? Does he know he could die?

I prepare quietly, quickly. I change as fast as possible so as not to be nude for long on a shuttlecraft full of males. I can't help but feel a certain pride for being on this mission. Worf, the strongest being (well, other than Data) aboard the Enterprise, Jean-Luc, one of the most valued officers in all of Starfleet...and me. I am in good company.

As I pack my tricorder, I wonder, though not for the first time, how Jean felt about me being put on this mission. Was he glad to have his own CMO, someone he could trust, with him? Was he scared I might die? Because of Jack? Because, maybe, perhaps, he cared for me...loved me? No, no. Too strong. Not love. "Care deeply for" works better. We're friends. Just because I'm in love with the man doesn't mean he has to return it. Gods, is it possible for me to be friends with a man? Really, just friends? Certainly not with Jean-Luc. Even when I was with Jack I wished that Jean-Luc loved me. I even pretended that I caught him looking at me wistfully once in a while: convinced myself he had a crush on me. How silly. Maybe I'm just a Jack-substitute. You know, can't hang around with Jack so I'll befriend his wife. Maybe he just feels guilty because he blames himself for my being a widow. No, no. He and I have more of a connection than just Jack...we're friends, I love him. Stop that Beverly, crooning over your boss will get you nowhere. What was I thinking about? Oh yeah, this damn black suit. It itches. I pull on the hood and head for the transporter. I'm early with 2 minutes to spare.