His morning passed uneventfully. He read for a while, then caught up on the ship's logs, even played his flute. He didn't allow himself to think or worry too much about his mental health. Between Troi and Crusher, there were enough people worried about it. He'd been in this situation before, only worse. After the Borg. And he'd survived, found his way back. And he would this time, too. For a fleeting moment, he found himself wondering about the next time.

And then the door chime sounded.

He glanced at the chronometer on his desk. 1100 hours. Too early to be Troi; he wasn't expecting her until noon. Probably not Crusher. In spite of her tendency to coddle him, she always respected his privacy when he requested it. As long as it didn't interfere with his health.

The chime sounded again.

One way to settle the mystery. "Come," he called, turning in his chair as the door to the left of his desk slid open.

Will Riker's broad shoulders filled the entryway. "Captain?" he inquired before stepping inside.

"Come in, Will," Picard invited again, sensing his first officer's hesitancy.

Riker entered, just enough for the doors to slide closed behind him. Picard stood and gestured toward the sitting area. "Please, have a seat," he offered.

The two men settled onto the furniture, Riker on the sofa, Picard in the opposite chair. For a moment they said nothing, just eyed each other appraisingly.

"You're looking good, sir," Riker finally observed. Much better than the last time he'd seen him.

"Thank you, Will," Picard responded. For everything, he added silently. He continued with a grin. "I've found, in my many years on the Enterprise, that if I follow all of Counselor Troi's and Doctor Crusher's instructions, I usually recover from whatever it is I'm suffering from."

Riker returned the grin. "I've found that to be true for me as well," he agreed.

Picard nodded. "How is everything?"

"Just fine. We're proceeding with the mapping of the Chartoff System; haven't found anything unusual. LaForge is taking some time to run a few low maintenance diagnostics. He says everything is falling within expected norms." Riker leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, chin propped on his fist. He pursed his lips slightly as he thought. "Data is taking care of your fish. He's become quite fascinated with them."

"Just as long as he keeps that cat away from them," Picard laughed.

"I'm sure he will," Riker said, pleased to see the captain's sense of humor.

But the levity didn't last long. The lines of Picard's face settled back into a serious expression. "What about Starfleet brass, Number One?"

Riker sighed. "Haven't had to deal with them much. They had a few questions about the mission report. Seemed satisfied with my answers."

"And my medical report?"

The younger man shook his head. "I hate to upset you, sir," he said with mock seriousness, "but they haven't inquired as to the state of your health."

"They haven't?" Picard looked at him uncertainly.

"Not at all. Beverly made a notation that you'd be taking a week off, and they've addressed all inquiries to me."

Picard was silent for a moment. "A week," he finally acknowledged, mulling the time frame over in his mind. Four days of that week had passed, and he was better already. "I trust you'll hold down the fort for another three days."

"It'll be difficult without you, sir, but...we'll manage," Riker smiled.

Picard returned his first officer's look of amusement, but found the prospect of another three days off duty not very amusing at all.

~vVv~

"One can only read so much Shakespeare," Picard groused only half teasing.

"But you like Shakespeare," Troi reminded him.

He settled a weary gaze on her. "I like being the captain of this ship."

"And you still are. You just happen to be a captain who's on leave for a few more days." She took a sip of her hot chocolate, and smiled at Picard over the rim of her cup. "Try not to be too impatient, sir. You've had a rough time. You need some rest. Both physically and mentally."

Picard heaved a sigh and set his own cup of Earl Grey on the coffee table. He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. "Granted. I've had a rough time. I need some rest. But you know as well as I do, that I can rest more in my ready room than I can sitting around here. I'm not asking to return to duty. I'm just asking to get out of my cabin."

"I agree."

He blinked. "You do?"

"Yes. And I believe I speak for Beverly as well when I say that you most definitely need to get out of your cabin." She leaned back in her chair and smiled again. Like a Cheshire cat, Picard thought. "How about a nice trip to the arboretum?"

Picard started to say something, thought better of it and gritted his teeth instead.

"Captain," Troi leaned forward, placing a hand on his knee. He jumped slightly at the contact. "You've been through a lot. It would be inadvisable for you to return to duty too soon."

"I didn't say duty, I said my ready room," he countered, grimacing when he detected a note of pleading in his tone.

"Where you would unofficially do the same things you would do if you were on duty." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Captain. Doctor Crusher initially prescribed a week off for you, and I still agree with that prescription."

"And what am I supposed to do with my time?"

Troi laughed softly. Picard never ceased to amaze her. Just a few days ago he could barely make it through the night without the aid of Crusher or her, and now... Now she sensed very little fear in him, only a modicum of doubt. The Borg and the Cardassians could only take so much from Jean-Luc Picard.

"I wouldn't discount the arboretum if I were you," she replied, ignoring his overly dramatic sigh of indignation.

~vVv~

He invited her to dinner. If he hadn't, she would have invited herself. He'd asked her specifically not to wear her uniform. He was tired of feeling examined.

As she sat across from him at the table, he admitted to himself that he had missed her company, although he'd seen her at breakfast, and again after lunch. He'd never realized just how long a day could seem when spent virtually alone in his cabin. Even a three hour nap hadn't helped to alleviate the boredom. He was actually planning a trip to the arboretum in the morning. But for now, he was pleased to have Crusher with him.

"Dinner was wonderful, Jean-Luc," she sighed, taking a sip of her wine. "And you really do seem to be improving."

"Uh-uh," he chided, "this is not an official visit. I allowed you to examine me this afternoon. You've had your chance, now stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like a doctor."

Crusher smiled softly at him. "And how should I look at you?"

Picard returned the smile. "Like a friend." He reached out and touched her other hand that lay on top of the table, squeezed it gently. "A very good friend." He hesitated for a moment, still holding her hand, then he continued. "I want to thank you for all you've done for me."

Crusher started to shake her head. "Jean-Luc, I was-"

"Don't say you were just doing your job."

"But I was."

"Between this experience and my encounter with the Borg, you have done much more than just...your job." His fingers absently stroked the back of her hand. "I don't know what I would have done without you. I'm not sure I..." His shifted his eyes from her face and stared out the viewport. "I'm not sure I would have been able to find my way back if you hadn't been here for me."

Crusher touched his chin with her other hand, turning his face back to her. "I'm glad you let me be here for you. And I always will be...anytime you need me."

The moment was full of too many unspoken words and feelings, and Picard held her gaze for just a bit longer and then let go of her hand and looked away. "I'm glad you were able to come for dinner." He stood up and began to clear away the plates and silverware.

"I wouldn't have missed it." Crusher straightened slightly in her chair. "Especially since I'm not invited for breakfast."

Picard stopped at the food dispenser and turned around. "Beverly, you are more than welcome to come to breakfast, there's just no need for you to sleep on my sofa tonight."

"And I was just getting used to it," she pouted.

"Beverly..."

"I'm teasing, Jean-Luc." She got up from the table and headed toward the door.

"You don't have to leave immediately," Picard sighed, intercepting her with a hand on her arm.

"Yes, I do, because you need your rest." She patted his shoulder, then leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll see you in the morning." And then she was gone, the door sliding closed behind her.

Picard's eyes circled his cabin. It always felt the emptiest after Beverly Crusher left.

~vVv~

Picard slept through the night. There were no nightmares, no dreams, no moments of intense fear. In fact, unlike the night before, he didn't wake at all. Not until his chronometer sounded at 0700. He got up, showered, shaved, dressed in some off duty clothing and welcomed Crusher for breakfast an hour later.

He permitted her to examine him with her medical tricorder, and she seemed impressed with his condition. Impressed enough to say that if the rest of the day went well, and if Troi agreed, she just might let him return to limited duty the next day. No more than a couple of hours. But it was better than nothing.

After breakfast, Picard actually took Troi's previous advice about a visit to the arboretum. It was particularly lovely. He seldom took the time to appreciate the Enterprise's vast array of plants and flowers collected from the many planets they'd visited.

Afterward, he went to Ten Forward, and as surreptitiously as a captain possibly could, he took a seat at the far end of the bar. A few moments later, Guinan appeared in front of him, a tea cup extended in her hand.

"Thank you," he said quietly, taking the cup from her. He took a sip, savored the taste and the warmth of the Earl Grey.

"You're welcome," Guinan returned.

Picard set the cup on the bar. "I know all the replicators on the ship are programmed exactly the same, but for some reason, I can never get a cup of tea that's quite as good as what you serve."

Guinan smiled serenely. "I like to think it's the company that makes it so good."

Picard picked his cup up, took another sip, and nodded slightly. "Yes, I believe you're right about that."

"Of course, I am."

In the silence that followed, Picard took another drink of tea, then placed the cup before him again. "I'm sure you heard about...what happened. The Cardassians." His eyes looked up at her, searching her face for any reaction.

"I heard. I'm glad you're feeling better."

"I am."

Again, there was silence. But a silence shared with Guinan was full and complete. Their friendship did not always need words.

A few moments later, she stepped away, and then returned with not one, but two cups of tea. She handed Picard a fresh cup, then raised her own in an abbreviated toast. "To...company," she said, taking a drink.

"Company," Picard whispered hoarsely, taking a sip as well.

~vVv~