Deanna Troi paused at the entrance to the CMO's office and studied the woman she had once considered her best friend. The doctor leaned heavily on her elbows as she massaged her temples and Deanna silently clucked in disapproval.
"You have a hypospray for that, you know," she said.
Beverly's head snapped up. Surprise temporarily erased the exhaustion in her blue eyes, but as soon as she recognized the counselor, the brightness faded.
"Deanna," Beverly said, keeping her tone neutral, "what brings you here?"
"I came to see how you were doing."
"The captain sent you."
Deanna remained silent. There was no point in trying to lie about the obvious.
"He is concerned about you." Deanna paused. "We're all concerned about you."
Beverly laughed and bitterness rolled through her office, buffeting Deanna's empathic walls. Deanna braced herself for another onslaught of emotion as she stepped further into the room. She couldn't remember what had caused the rift in their friendship, but whatever it was, it was irrelevant now. The captain had ordered her to gauge Dr. Crusher's psychological fitness, and she would do her duty. He would expect—and accept—no less.
"Beverly—"
"Don't, Deanna. Just don't," Beverly said. "I'm fine. Tired." She leaned back in her chair and ran her fingers through her auburn hair. "I stayed up too late working on a project and now I'm paying for the lack of sleep."
Deanna almost believed her.
"What sort of project, Beverly?"
Beverly's already alabaster complexion paled and the sharp tang of stress pierced the room. Deanna adjusted her senses to compensate.
The doctor smiled weakly. "You've never shown interest in my work before."
"You've never been obsessed with a side project to the detriment of your ability to perform your duties before."
Beverly's cheeks flushed. "My ability to serve as the CMO of this vessel is in no way compromised."
"Really?" Deanna counted slowly to thirty before adding, "You tried to relieve the captain of duty earlier today."
"I did?"
Deanna nodded. "This morning, and yesterday, and the morning before that. In fact, you've attempted to do so every morning for the past ten days."
Beverly's eyebrows drew together. She would never do such a thing. The captain was in perfect control of his faculties and showed no sign of incapacitation. "I don't—"
An echo of the closeness she'd once shared with the doctor slipped past her defences, and Deanna sighed. "Beverly, please stop. Whatever you're doing isn't rational, and the captain's patience has its limits."
Beverly appeared genuinely confused, and the fuzziness pricked at Deanna's skin like an electromagnetic current.
"That's just it though," Beverly said. "I don't know what you're talking about. Why would I want to relieve the captain of duty?"
