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The smell woke Trenton before the alarm did. He bolted from the office. Thick grey smoke filled the lab; on the opposite side, orange tongues of flame licked at the ceiling. The alarm was ringing, blaring, but the computer wasn't extinguishing the blaze.

"Trenton!" Kingsley appeared at the main door across from him, flanked by two Security officers. "There's been a computer malfunction," he cried, as the Security officers pushed past him, both wielding hand-held extinguishers.

Already, Trenton was coughing convulsively, the heavy smoke burning his lungs, his eyes watering. He stumbled towards the door, was almost there when he remembered. The implant. It was in a case, sitting on a shelf, on the opposite side of the room. He turned around. The blaze was growing despite the efforts of the Security men. But miraculously, on the other side, the cabinet that held the implant was still untouched by the flames, although they were pressing in quickly. In a split second, Trenton had found an opening in the fire line.

"Trenton, no!" Kingsley shouted, realizing his intention.

But he ignored the doctor's voice, shot through to the other side, fire reaching out, singeing his arms and legs. The smoke and heat were unbearable, and he felt as if he were choking to death. But he got to the cabinet, reached up, took hold of the case that held the implant. It was hot to the touch, painful, but he took it down, wrapped his arms around it, shielded it as best he could. He turned around to make his way back through, and found himself surrounded by the fire.

Through the blaze he could see the security officers still battling the flames with the small extinguishers. It was a losing battle.

"Run straight through," one of them yelled. They both directed the extinguisher's spray at the same place.

Trenton struggled to breathe, and then jumped through the flames, and somehow reached the other side, safe he thought. But just at that moment the fire reached a row of chemicals on a lab table. There was an explosion. The security officers were thrown back off their feet, and Trenton was knocked to the ground, the case flying from his arms. He was sprawled flat on the floor, no more than five feet from the door, the case in front of him. He started to crawl towards it, but he couldn't move. It was then that he felt the intense pain in his right arm. He squinted through the smoke, and just before he lost consciousness, he saw a portion of the nine foot ceiling beam that had fallen onto his arm.

~vVv~

Jean-Luc pushed at the pillows behind his back and winced. The movement pulled the muscles across his chest, and the long incision, which ran from just below his throat to his naval, was still tender. It would heal in a few days, and there would be no trace of it ever having been there. It would fade away just like the smaller scars across his heart and back. The miracles of modern medicine. He frowned slightly.

It didn't seem quite fair, to rob a man of his scars. After all, he had earned them, even if it was through his own stupidity. Thousands of years ago they'd have been marks of a warrior, worn proudly. Jean-Luc sighed. It was just as well. He didn't think of himself as a warrior. An explorer, yes. Warrior, no. And if he ever got shore leave on Earth again, Maman would be frightened by the sight of them. She already worried about him, out here on the edges of the universe, as she was fond of saying. He was still debating with himself whether to tell her about this injury at all.

He looked up when the door to his room opened. Trenton O'Dell stuck his head in. "Up for a visitor?"

"Only if she's female."

"Afraid you're out of luck." Trenton came further into the room, his right arm encased in bandages, held securely against his body by a sling.

"What the hell happened to you?" Jean-Luc inquired.

Trenton shook his head. "Hey, I fought those Nausicaans too. Not all of us can lose a heart." He walked over and sat down in the chair next to the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. Are Tay and David all right?"

"They're fine. They came to see you yesterday, but you were asleep."

Jean-Luc sighed. "I was pretty tired for a while. Now I'm just bored." He glanced around the room. "And ready to get out of here."

"Whoa. Slow down, buddy. It's not like you fell and skinned your knee. You had us really scared there."

Jean-Luc wrinkled his forehead. "I guess it was a little stupid of me to stand up to those Nausicaans."

Trenton's eyes widened. "I wouldn't say it was a little stupid. I would say it was a lot stupid."

Jean-Luc grinned. "Hey, don't be so rough. It's not like I asked one of them to run a damn sword through me."

"I know," Trenton said. "How's the new heart?"

Jean-Luc frowned. "It's a... peculiar feeling." He ran a hand lightly over his chest. "I can feel it beating in there. It's so mechanical."

"No it's not, Jean-Luc." Trenton's voice was firm. "It's your heart now, and you've got to think of it that way."

He rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. Kingsley already gave me the 'love your heart' routine."

"And you have to slow down," Trenton added.

"Why? He says this heart's better than my real-" He caught himself. "My old one," he corrected himself.

"It is, but..." Trenton reached out with his left hand and touched his friend on the arm. "You don't have to be in such a hurry, Jean-Luc."

He narrowed his eyes at Trenton. "What do you mean?" he asked hesitantly.

The look on Trenton's face softened. "I know what you want. What you're reaching for. Trust me; it'll still be there when you're ready for it. Everything has its time, Jean-Luc. There's no reason to rush it."

Jean-Luc swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment. "I'm always afraid that I'm not going to be what it is I'm supposed to be." He looked at Trenton. "Do you understand?"

Trenton nodded. "I understand, Jean-Luc." More than you know, he thought. "Someday you'll be captain of your own ship; I can guarantee you. But that's tomorrow, and you've got to learn to let tomorrow take care of itself."

Jean-Luc sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't learn things too easily. You're going to have to keep reminding me."

Trenton lowered his eyes and stared at the floor. "I won't be able to," he said. He looked back up. "I've been reassigned. They're sending me back to Earth."

"They're what?"

"Hey," Trenton shrugged, "remember, I'm the boy genius. They need me back at Starfleet Medical."

Jean-Luc shook his head. "Damn, Trent, I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too." He stood up. "And now I'm going to get out of here before we get overly sentimental." He walked over to the door and looked back. "Take care of that heart, Jean-Luc."

"I will. Take care of yourself."

"I'll try."

~vVv~

Jean-Luc sighed deeply. "And that, I suppose, is the end." He looked down at Beverly. During the telling of his story, she had snuggled closer to him, her head resting on his shoulder, his arm wrapped warmly around her. "I didn't hear about the fire in the lab until several months later. Didn't find out till then how severe his injury had been."

"I knew Trenton O'Dell," Beverly murmured.

Jean-Luc nodded. "He died five years ago. Shuttle bay explosion aboard the Aldrin." He supplied the facts in a monotone.

"I heard." Beverly rubbed her hand along his shoulder, hoping to ease some of the tension she felt there. "He was one of Starfleet's best medical researchers," she offered.

"Would have been one of the best surgeons, but the last life he saved was mine," Jean-Luc said remorsefully.

"Oh, no." Beverly pulled away so she could look at him better. "Trenton saved thousands of lives by finding cures to half a dozen diseases."

He sighed. "I know. But his dream was to be a surgeon, and because of me..." His voice trailed off, and he leaned his head way back, rubbing his eyes. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly and stared at the ceiling. "They replaced my heart, but they weren't able to repair the nerve damage in Trenton's arm. At least not sufficiently enough to allow him to continue being the promising young surgeon he was." He raised his head and looked down at Beverly. "He sacrificed his career for my life. How do you ever repay someone for that?"

Beverly took hold of his hand and squeezed it. "By making the most of that life. Something you have definitely done."

Jean-Luc gazed at her, felt himself getting lost in her eyes. He pulled her closer and buried his face in the flame of her hair. The sweet scent of her stirred his emotions, made him feel things he'd never felt, and say things he could never say to anyone except her.

He pulled back, just far enough so that their eyes met. "Sometimes," he murmured,"I look at you, and my heart skips a beat."

Beverly laughed softly, pressed her ear to his chest. "Jean-Luc," she whispered, "your heart always skips a beat."

~The End~