Deanna was putting on her underwear when she sensed Beverly walking towards Jean-Luc's quarters. Smiling at Jean-Luc, who was just sealing his uniform tunic, she said,

'Beverly's on her way.'

Jean-Luc tugged his uniform jacket down and started to walk out but hesitated at the bedroom door.

'Go on,' said Deanna, 'I'll only be a minute.'

Jean-Luc walked into the living area and began setting things out for breakfast, thinking that there were definite advantages to being in a relationship with an empath; she had understood his hesitation without him needing to explain.

When Beverly walked in Jean-Luc only needed one glance to see that she was tense. Smiling sympathetically, he said,

'Did you get any sleep?'

'A bit. At least I managed to avoid annoying Selar by going into Sickbay to check Paul's readings.'

Beverly smiled wryly as she said it, knowing that Jean-Luc would understand. Selar's control was back to normal so she would never show her annoyance but that didn't mean that she wouldn't feel it, even if it was only for a fraction of a second.
Jean-Luc finished getting breakfast, deliberately not asking if Beverly had accessed Paul's readings from the terminal in her quarters, reflecting that the question of whether or not she should have done would be a good one for the ethics class at Starfleet Academy. As Chief Medical Officer it was her right to check on any crew members' condition at any time but, as Paul's lover, checking up when another doctor was monitoring his condition might not be appropriate.
Deanna joined them and they chatted idly whilst eating. Once Beverly had left, Jean-Luc asked,

'How is she?'

'Tense but not upset. There are some annual physicals today so I'll be in and out of Sickbay so I can keep an eye on her.'

'Good. Let me know if you think my presence is required. Since we're travelling at impulse, I'm unlikely to be needed on the Bridge.'

The day passed quietly. Jean-Luc used the fact that the ship was at impulse as a way to give all of the ensigns a turn as Officer of the Watch, getting them to each do an hour, even including the Engineering ensign, to her undiluted horror. Amused, he said,

'You're an officer. In an emergency, you might have to take command of the Bridge.'

'Yes, Sir.'

'Unfortunately, even in the best run ships, command officers can be away from the ship when something happens. It's important to understand that as an ensign, you are in the chain of command albeit a long way down.'

'Yes, Sir.'

With a nod, Jean-Luc returned to his Ready Room, where he passed an uneventful hour doing paperwork before relieving the terrified but exultant ensign.

Deanna paused a few feet from the entrance to Sickbay and lowered her shields slightly, reaching for the familiar signature of Beverly's mind. Beverly was concentrating on what she was doing and whilst there was an underlying current of anxiety, Beverly was easily controlling it. Satisfied, Deanna walked into Sickbay and brought up her notes on the crewman to be assessed.

It wasn't until late afternoon that Beverly showed any signs of the stress that had been gradually building as she watched Paul's vital signs change each time he administered a stim shot. Deanna had been aware for some time that Beverly's stress levels had been increasing and when Bill Nechayev failed to turn up for his appointment, Beverly's stress turned into anger. Tapping her comm badge, she said crisply,

'Doctor Crusher to Mister Nechayev.'

When there was no response, she tried again. After the third time, she said impatiently,

'Computer, what is the location of Mister Nechayev?'

'Mister Nechayev is in Cargo Hold Three.'

'Cargo Hold Three? What on Earth is he doing there?'

'He's probably painting,' said Deanna.

'Well I need him up here,' said Beverly irritably.

'Do you want me to go and get him?'

'No, you're busy.'

Beverly tapped her comm badge again,

'Crusher to Worf.'

'Worf here.'

'Mister Nechayev is late for his medical check-up and isn't responding to hails. According to the computer he's in Cargo Hold Three. Can you get someone to check on his condition and, if he's ambulatory, escort him to Sickbay, please.'

'Yes, Doctor.'

A few minutes later, Worf came into Sickbay, holding Bill Nechayev gently but firmly by the arm. Bill smiled disarmingly at Beverly and said,

'I'm in the middle of painting; can't I come back later?'

Everyone in Sickbay, including Worf, flinched. Beverly took a deep breath to try to control her temper and said,

'Mister Nechayev, whilst you are on this ship your health is my responsibility and if I give you an appointment I expect you to be here punctually.'

'It's only a check-up, isn't it? Surely it doesn't matter if I miss it?'

Deanna moved away and strengthened her shields as Beverly's temper exploded, amazed that Bill had missed the warning signs.

Bill's eyes widened as Beverly coldly and angrily explained all the possible consequences of missing follow-up appointments, going into gruesome detail with respect to the possible consequences of head injuries. She then ranted at length regarding people who treated her staff without respect, missing appointments or self-diagnosing and then expecting the medical staff to commit miracles. Finally, she said,

'I don't have time to chase you down. In case you haven't noticed, we're insanely busy. Not only are we still treating people injured when we were attacked on Defayeh but half of my staff are undergoing mandatory counselling as a consequence of Admiral Nechayev's treatment, making our working days even longer. If you miss another appointment I will have you confined to quarters. Do you understand?'

'Yes. I apologise. I didn't know that you'd been attacked; is that why everyone's so stressed?'

'Yes.'

'I understand. I'll make sure I set an alarm next time.'

'Good. Come and lie down on the bio bed, please.'

Bill lay quietly whilst Beverly checked him. Five minutes later, she said,

'That's all fine. You shouldn't have any trouble but if you experience headaches, nausea or dizziness come straight to Sickbay.'

'Yes, Doctor.'

Deanna narrowed her eyes thoughtfully at Bill's uncharacteristic meekness and once he'd gone, she said to Beverly,

'You might want to send him those instructions in writing.'

'Oh?'

'He was completely preoccupied with something else. I doubt he heard a word you said.'

'Really?'

'Yes.'

'I wonder what he was thinking about?' said Beverly, her curiosity piqued.

'Knowing Bill, it could be anything.'

'Oh, well, I'm sure we'll find out in time,' said Beverly, losing interest as her attention moved inexorably back to the monitor showing Paul's vital signs.

Deanna nodded, distracted by Beverly's anxiety. Pulling Beverly away from the monitor, she said,

'Time to eat. If you ask me nicely, I'll tell you what happened between mother and the Tellarite ambassador.'

'I'd far rather hear about you and Jean-Luc,' said Beverly, following Deanna out of Sickbay.

'Maybe when I'm old and grey.'

'I'm going to hold you to that.'

Laughing and chatting they made their way to the canteen.