Heart Sounds

Author's Note: This was written under another pseudonym and published in Eridani 11 in 1990. It was written several years before the TNG episode "Tapestry," so there are some differences.

Disclaimer: The crew of the Enterprise doesn't belong to me.

"Breathe deeply." Beverly Crusher moved her med-scanner to the left side of the captain's chest. "Again," she instructed.

Picard inhaled, then exhaled slowly.

"One more time."

"Doctor," he started to protest.

"One more time." Her voice was firm.

Picard grimaced, but did as he was told.

Crusher adjusted the scanner, and it began to emit a low thumping sound. Picard frowned up at her. "I thought that thing was silent."

Crusher shook her head. "Doesn't have to be...although I rarely increase the volume."

Picard eyed her suspiciously.

"You have a very unique heartbeat," she answered his unspoken question, pulling the instrument away from his body and placing it on the table beside her. "My instruments give me accurate visual readouts, but sometimes I just like to listen to the unusual rhythm of it."

Picard smiled. "I suppose I've grown used to it."

"That's understandable."

"Thank God the new replacement sounds just like the old one," he remarked. "I'd hate to have to get used to another heartbeat."

"I can assure you that this one will last as long as you do."

"Thank you, Doctor. That's comforting."

Crusher turned away and entered information into the computer behind her. "Barring any Nausicaans," she murmured.

"I beg your pardon?" Picard asked, although he was fully aware of what she'd said.

Crusher looked back over her shoulder. "Wesley told me about your trip to Starbase 515 last year." She frowned slightly. "I hope the story of your encounter with the Nausicaans wasn't a secret."

"No, of course not," Picard answered. "It's just not something I talk about a lot."

Crusher turned around and crossed her arms in front of her. "I didn't think so. Thank you for sharing it with Wesley. It meant a lot to him."

"It meant a lot to me too." He smiled. "He's growing into a fine young man, Beverly. He reminds me of Jack."

She returned his smile. "I know. I'm very proud of him."

"You have reason to be."

They stared at each other for several moments. There had been a time when neither of them could mention Jack's name in the other's presence. But things had changed. Especially their feelings for each other. And Beverly Crusher had found herself caring a great deal for this man. Just as she knew he cared for her.

Reluctantly, she broke away from his gaze. "Well," she said, returning to the subject at hand, I'm happy to report that you are in excellent condition. Except..."

Picard eyed her warily. "Except what?"

"When was the last time you had a well-balanced meal? One where you actually sat down to eat it?"

Picard sighed. She had him there. For the past couple of weeks he'd been existing on tea and tuna sandwiches, gulped down hastily in his ready room. He hung his head in mock despair. "Guilty," he mumbled.

"Just as I thought."

"You know, we could remedy this situation," he suggested, a grin tugging at his lips.

"We could?" Crusher arched an eyebrow at him.

"Dinner, my quarters, twenty-one hundred hours."

"Just the two of us?"

"I wasn't planning on inviting anyone else." His voice was low. "Were you?"

~vVv~

"You look lovely tonight," Jean-Luc gazed at her from across the candle-lit table.

"I know," Beverly replied. "This is the third time you've told me."

He blinked. "Really?"

"I don't mind. I like hearing it."

Jean-Luc smiled. He couldn't take his eyes off her. "I'm so accustomed to seeing you in that damned blue lab coat, I find it a rare pleasure to look at you now."

"You don't like my blue lab coat?" Beverly pouted playfully.

Jean-Luc pursed his lips, as in deep thought. "I love that blue lab coat," he announced after a moment's deliberation.

Beverly laughed. "I think this conversation is digressing."

"Yes," Jean-Luc agreed, although he couldn't remember what they'd been talking about before. "But you do look very lovely."

"And you look very handsome." She studied him. "Did you know there is a direct correlation between what you wear and how you act?"

"Is there?"

She nodded. "You're always a bit...buttoned up in your uniform."

He reached up and fingered the open collar of the grey silk shirt he was wearing. "And how do I act now?"

"More unbuttoned," Beverly answered quietly.

Jean-Luc cleared his throat and pushed himself back from the table. "I take on a lot of responsibility when I put on that uniform," he said as he stood and walked over to the food dispenser. Beverly's eyes followed him.

"But you never really take that responsibility off."

"No starship captain ever should."

"I know." Beverly rose from her chair and moved over to the viewports.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Jean-Luc inquired.

"Yes, please," she answered as she settled herself on the sofa.

He addressed the dispenser. "Tea, Earl Grey, hot. Two cups."

The cups of steaming, amber liquid appeared, and Jean-Luc picked them up and carried them over to Beverly. He offered her one.

"Thank you," she said as she took the cup from him. She took a hesitant sip as Jean-Luc sat down next to her and relaxed against the cushions.

"How is it?" he asked.

"It's perfect." She smiled at him. "Dinner was wonderful, Jean-Luc."

"Yes, it was," he agreed. "But more importantly, it was well balanced. And we ate it sitting down."

"It's already helping to improve your physical condition," Beverly responded. "You're starting to get some color back in your cheeks."

"That, dear Doctor, is not from dinner, but rather from the company I've been keeping."

"Oh, I see." She slipped her shoes off and pulled her legs up on the sofa, tucking them to one side. She brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "You owe me a story," she said.

"I do?" Jean-Luc took a long sip of his tea.

"Yes. What happened after the Nausicaans?"

"As I told your son, Beverly, I was no hero."

She shook her head. "I don't want to hear about Jean-Luc Picard the Hero. I want to hear about the opinionated, impetuous young man you once were."

"Once were? Umph." He stared at her. "I like to think I'm still somewhat opinionated."

"True, but you're not quite as impetuous."

"Nor am I quite as young," he added, stretching his legs and propping his feet on the coffee table in front of them. "So, where do you want me to start?"

Beverly sighed. "Let's see. Why don't you pick up where you left off with Wesley?"

~vVv~

The three Nausicaans had started it. Of that, there was no doubt. They'd purposefully blocked the young officers' way in the middle of the dusty road.

Trenton O'Dell had instinctively taken a step back. He was familiar with their aggressive nature, and was in no mood to provoke them. Tay Kusatsu and David Craig, he noted, had also moved away, giving the trio a wide berth. But Trenton groaned inaudibly when he saw Jean-Luc Picard stand his ground, shoulders squared.

"Jean," Trenton hissed under his breath, "not now."

Their shore leave wasn't very long, and he didn't want to waste any of it on a brawl.

"Out of my way, Human," the largest Nausicaan rumbled.

"I beg your pardon," Jean-Luc's accent was even more clipped than usual.

"I said out of my way, you pasty-faced, Starfleet maggot."

"I think not, you half-brained, galactic moron. Surely you and your fellow beasts can find your way around us. And then perhaps you can return to that garbage dump of a planet that you call home. Now, out of my way, you bastard."

Great. Trenton shook his head. Jean-Luc liked words, and had the uncanny ability to use them at the wrong time.

The Nausicaans looked at each other, emitted a low growl, and suddenly all three of them were on Jean-Luc, and Trenton's dread of a brawl turned into a nightmare of a full-fledged fight. For a few moments, all any of them could do was stare at the mass of struggling arms and legs. Surprisingly, Jean-Luc was holding his own, actually doing quite well. But he couldn't keep it up indefinitely. Trenton strode into the fray, trailed by Tay and David. He'd just grabbed one of the Nausicaans by the shoulder when it happened.

~vVv~

It was a curious sensation actually. Not much pain. Just shock at the sight of serrated metal sticking through his chest. A certain, giddy warmth, and Jean-Luc Picard laughed out loud.

In that instant, before they realized what had actually happened, Jean-Luc saw his mates staring at him, wide-eyed. Even the Nausicaans stood motionless. But only for a moment. As Jean-Luc pitched forward onto the ground, a flurry of activity broke out around him. David kicked the weapon out of the Nausicaans's large hands, while Trenton and Tay went after the remaining two. The ensuing struggle lasted only a few seconds before Starfleet Security appeared, phasers drawn. The Nausicaans, suddenly docile, were led away.

Trenton knelt down beside Jean-Luc and gently lifted him up. He cradled his unconscious body against his shoulder. David slapped his communicator.

"Starbase Earhart. Medical emergency. Four to beam up."

Thankfully, there was no delay, and the group was instantaneously caught up in the shimmering effect of the transporter beam. Within seconds, they were gone, and the only thing left was a puddle of blood in the dust.

~vVv~