Part 9
"I love it!" Adele declares, skipping into the living area where Beverly is perched on the sofa with a mug of tea in her hands.
Grinning, Beverly watches the girl spin around in the pink ballerina-style dress with crinoline slip and pink ballet flats. "Perfect! You look beautiful, honey."
Rushing up to Beverly, Adele wraps her arms around Beverly's shoulders tightly. "Thank you, Doctor Crusher!"
Smiling, Beverly drops a kiss to her crown before the girl skips off to twirl around in the dress. "Can you teach me to dance like a real ballerina?"
Chuckling, Beverly sets her mug on the table in front of her. "I'm sure you can learn some steps. But, you're quite busy with the play right now. Let's concentrate on that before we go adding ballet to the mix." This girl of Jean-Luc's that only a few months ago had worn one-piece pyjamas and jumpers every day, and knew nothing of hair styles, had transformed into a ballerina.
Flopping onto the couch, Adele sighs contentedly. "Can you do my hair in a chignon, please?"
"Sit up, honey," Beverly urges.
Adele straightens, casting a look behind her. "Are Papa and Wes working?"
Beverly combs the girl's blond layers with her fingers, preparing to style it as requested. "No. Your father took Wes out to fly one of the shuttles. Wes has been training as a pilot."
"He gets to fly a shuttle?" Adele questions in jealous disbelief.
"With supervision," Beverly answers with a laugh. "He knows those shuttles probably better than some of the officers."
"Can I fly a shuttle when I'm bigger?" Adele asks, staring forward.
Weaving her hair, Beverly nods. "You can do whatever you set your mind to if you study and work hard."
"Maybe I'll be a doctor and help sick and hurt people, like you," Adele muses.
Smiling warmly, Beverly pauses. "Maybe you will."
"Wes is reading the bedtime story?" Beverly raises a brow, leaning against the counter. "How'd you manage that?"
"I may have…implied that a solo flight would be imminent," admits Picard sheepishly.
"You bribed my son?" gasps Beverly, giggling. "You didn't want to run a solo flight past his mother first?"
"No," Picard shakes his head. "I have far better things I'd like to do with you."
With his words and heated look, he wipes the smile off her face and draws her against him with his hands on her hips. "We don't get many moments alone. I take whatever opportunity is handed to me."
Holding his forearms, Beverly rests her forehead against his, pecking his lips. "I know. They're few and far between."
Inhaling sharply, Jean-Luc runs one hand along the small of her back. "I need more than this."
"I do, too," Beverly sighs, rubbing his shoulder. "We just have to have some patience."
"Have dinner with me tomorrow," Jean-Luc demands urgently, looking fervently into her eyes.
"What about the kids?" Beverly inquires, trying not to get lost in the passion in his eyes and remain rooted in reality.
"I'll figure something out," Picard assures her, his eyes dropping to her lips.
"Okay," Beverly whispers breathlessly, closing the distance between their mouths.
Striding toward the door, Deanna smiles when the door slides open to reveal Riker bouncing on his heels. "Hello, Commander."
Grinning, Will steps across the threshold. "Good evening, Counselor." Spotting Wesley and Adele in the living area on the floor constructing some sort of elaborate tower with blocks, Will pauses.
Glancing over her shoulder, Deanna acknowledges his look of bewilderment. "I'm babysitting."
"Why?" Will inquires out of curiosity.
Mischievously grinning, Deanna steps close to Will. "The captain and Beverly are on a date."
Eyebrows rising, Will smirks. "Really?"
"Well, they've gone to dinner. But, I can sense that it's actually a date," Deanna confesses. "Please don't say anything. I think they just want privacy."
Will watches the kids playing on the floor in the living area. "So, you got stuck babysitting?"
Deanna playfully elbows him in the ribs. "I didn't get stuck. The captain and Beverly could use a break. Besides, it's no trouble. They're great."
Will puts a hand on Deanna's shoulder, observing the kids from across the room.
"What did you come here for?" Deanna inquires.
"Oh," Riker spins around. "I wanted to let you know I'm starting a poker game in about twenty minutes."
"Thanks. I'll have to pass tonight," Deanna says regretfully.
"Why are you watching Wes? He's sixteen, it's not like he needs a babysitter," Will states pointedly.
Shrugging, Deanna rotates to glance at Wes who has his back turned to them. "I don't know. He doesn't need one, but he came along tonight."
Shaking his head, the corners of Riker's lips curl. "He's a member of our bridge crew. I'm going to invite him to the poker game."
Eyes dilating, Deanna grabs his arm. "No, Will."
"Why not?" shrugs Will, smirking massively. "I can call it 'diplomatic negotiation training'. He'll learn how to bluff."
"Please, Will. Don't," Deanna pleads, as Will pads forward. "Beverly might not like…"
"Actually, I'm making it an order," teases Riker. "Hey, Wes."
Whipping around, Wes smiles easily. 'Hi, Commander."
"How would you like some informal training tonight?" Will asks jokingly.
"Oh, God," Deanna gasps, running toward the living area.
Off guard, Will's eyes follow Deanna where she drops to the ground beside a writhing Adele.
Wes has abandoned the conversation and turned to Adele who is unconscious on the ground, spasming.
Will rushes to the group, dropping to his knees. He taps his communicator badge and calls for medical assistance.
"We have to give her some space to breathe," Wesley reminds them, shifting to Adele's side. "She should be in the recovery position." Wesley rotates her convulsing form to rest on her side.
"It's okay, Adele," Deanna whispers, holding the girl's shoulder.
"What can we do?" Will asks, turning to Wesley.
"Counselor, can you get her medication? There's some in her backpack," Wesley advises.
Nodding, Troi rises to her feet and locates the backpack near the sofa. "This?" She hands Wesley a bottle from the bottom of the bag.
"Yes. She takes this every night, but I think if we can give it to her now it may help until the doctor arrives," Wesley advises, retrieving a tablet from the bottle.
"The captain didn't tell you this?" Will asks Deanna.
Shaking her head, Deanna accepts the bottle from Wesley as Wesley puts the dissolvable tablet in the girl's mouth. "No, he didn't tell me about the medication or anything. I…I should have asked."
"It's okay. She can't choke on it," Wesley assures them at Deanna's concerned look. "It dissolves."
"Deanna, please call the captain and…tell them what's going on," Will says, softening the order by squeezing her forearm.
Swallowing hard, Deanna rises to her feet.
"How do you know so much about all this?" Will asks Wes as Wesley moves Adele's arm, holding her hand loosely.
Grimacing, Wes briefly glances at the first officer. "This has been happening a lot."
Seeing the expression of concern, guilt and remorse plaguing the counselor's face, Beverly reaches out to embrace the other woman. "It's alright, Deanna. She's fine."
Grimacing, Deanna shakes her head. "Only because of Wesley. She could have…"
"Adele is fine," Beverly assures her, pulling out of the hug.
"I'm sorry, Deanna," Picard apologizes solemnly. "I neglected to go over the instructions for her medication and the proper response for a potential seizure. This was my fault."
"What happened?" Riker inquires, putting a hand over Deanna's shoulder. The counselor is still visibly shaken.
"It could have been the missed medication," Beverly exhales, sharing a look with Jean-Luc. "But, her seizures have been frequent."
"This wasn't in any way your fault," Picard reiterates. "There was nothing you could have done. I'm sorry. I appreciate that you were trying to help, and I'm sorry that it had to…turn out this way."
"She's awake. She's very drowsy, but you can see her if you'd like," Crusher offers.
Frowning, Deanna swallows the lump in her throat.
"Let's go say 'hi'," Will urges.
"I think we're going to go. Will wants to check in on the bridge, and I think I'm going to call it a night," Deanna tells Beverly as the doctor reenters the small private room in sickbay where Adele is surrounded by Picard, Wesley and Will.
"Alright. Thank you for watching the kids tonight," Beverly replies, wrapping one arm around Deanna's shoulder.
"Any time. I wish I could have done more," Deanna practically rolls her eyes.
"It's alright, Deanna. Adele will be fine," Beverly reiterates. "I'm going to release her shortly so she can go home and sleep in her own bed."
Exhaling deeply, Deanna forces a smile. "How was dinner?"
Grinning, Beverly's gaze wanders over to Jean-Luc standing at the head of the bed. "Too short."
Smiling in understanding, Deanna appraises the doctor in casual dress, a long maxi floral-printed sundress over which she had thrown a lab coat when she had arrived in sickbay. "Well, then I'm truly sorry your evening was cut short."
"Next time," Beverly laughs with her friend. "The important thing is that Adele's okay. You did the right thing."
"No, Wesley did the right thing," Deanna points out. "He was amazing, Beverly. He was so good with her."
Inhaling sharply, Beverly's eyes find Wes hunched over the bed, apparently engaging Adele in a lengthy joke. "Unfortunately, he's seen this a few times."
