Beverly Crusher sat in her silent sickbay, gazing at the stasis bubble harboring the motionless Trill symbiont. Ambassador Odan. Her lover – in a strange and almost hopelessly complicated way.

Her lover who was currently near death, and getting nearer with every passing moment. Salvation in the form of a new host was on the way, but the captain had just come by sickbay to check on the recovering Will Riker and had informed her it would still be some time before the Enterprise was able to rendezvous with the Trill vessel.

Her gut churned with tension. She knew she was approaching physical and emotional exhaustion and she couldn't even remember the last time she'd eaten. Probably during the negotiations earlier this afternoon when Jean-Luc had dragged her from the bridge into his ready room and replicated them each a slice of quiche. That had been hours ago, but although she knew she needed to keep up her strength for the surgery to come, the thought of trying to have anything now made her feel sick to her stomach.

Just then the sickbay door slid open to once again reveal Captain Picard. Beverly rose, half surprised and half alarmed. He'd only been gone five minutes.

Without a word he walked straight towards her. His eyes were direct, determined, purpose evident in every stride.

"Yes, Captain?" she said as he drew near. Is something wrong? Is there another delay?

"I want you to transfer Odan into my body," he announced.

She gaped. "What?"

"It will keep him alive until the new host arrives."

Beverly stared at him, feeling a flare of fear in her gut. Not the queasy unease and worry that had been her constant companion for the past few days, but a cold, clammy terror. She shook her head in sharp, instinctive refusal. "No. A human host body can't adapt to the symbiont. It would kill you. You saw what happened to Will."

Jean-Luc pursed his lips. "That was over the course of nearly two days. This will only be for a few hours. Just until we rendezvous with the Trill ship."

It was a magnificent, magnanimous offer. And it was so very like Jean-Luc to make it. It was also completely out of the question. She couldn't put his life at risk like that.

Not even for Odan.

"I can't," she replied, fighting to keep her voice steady. "Everyone's physiology is different. Your body might reject the symbiont even more quickly than Will's. There are just too many variables, too many unknowns."

"Beverly –"

"Jean-Luc, I can't." If he wouldn't heed her medical advice, she hoped her next argument would be enough to dissuade him. "You're the captain and your duty is to the thousand crewmembers on this ship," she reminded him. "You can't just relinquish command and let yourself be taken over by another entity, especially with your first officer out of action as well."

He grimaced, refusing to give in. "Commander Data can –"

"Commander Data isn't you. We simply can't take the risk of something going wrong." She blew out a breath and ran one hand through her hair before fixing her eyes on his. "Shall we ask Starfleet Command what they think? Because we both know they'll say the same thing."

She saw the flash of disappointment in his eyes and knew she had won. The feeling of relief was nearly overpowering, and she spared a quick, apologetic thought for Odan, hoping he would understand.

"I'm sorry." She forced herself to add, "We'll just have to hope the new host gets here in time."

Jean-Luc reached out and laid a gentle hand on her bicep. "We're making every effort –"

She could feel the warmth of his palm all the way through her lab coat and drew a measure of comfort from the contact. He was trying so hard, and she loved him for it. "I know."

He nodded, eyes hooded with sadness, and then turned and headed for the door.

She watched him depart, then slumped back into her chair as fatigue threatened to overwhelm her. But her brain was still running at warp nine and refused to slow. When will the new host get here? What will he be like? Who in their right mind would actually volunteer for this?

Thoughts swirled as she tried to process the implications of one living being permanently taking over occupancy of another. Was the host mind and spirit lost, or only suppressed? Odan had assured them that after his removal the Riker they knew would be fully restored, but what happened to him while Odan was in place? Had he known, felt, anything?

If she'd accepted his offer to become a temporary host, what would have become of the Jean-Luc she knew and – well. Would he have had any awareness at all?

Her tired mind drifted back to what he'd said to her in his ready room that morning:

Whatever else I may be to you, I am your friend.

If only he knew how much it meant to her to hear those words right then.

Friendship wasn't everything she wanted. But it was enough for now.

With a grateful sigh, she pulled her chair over to the nearest empty biobed and, lowering her head onto her crossed arms, fell asleep.

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