A House Divided
Chapter Four
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Groggily, Beverly Crusher rolled over and opened her eyes. "Computer, lights, 25%."
Her cabin came alight in a faint glow. Beverly groaned and rolled over again on to her back. The bed and pillow seemed gloriously soft. Last night she'd taken a bath and fallen asleep 5 minutes in. Waking with a start, she'd finished up, which had taken a while considering the state of her hair. Instead of taking the time to dry it, she'd simply braided it and hit the sack. Stretching, she sat up, pulled out the tie and began loosing her auburn tresses, which were now extremely wavy. Whatever.
"Computer, time?"
"The current time is 13:47."
Rubbing her eyes, she shook her head. How in the world had she slept so long? "Making up for lost time," she muttered. Standing, she arched her back and walked over to the closet. She pulled out her robe and walked into her living area. Her stomach rumbled angrily. "I know, I know, I'm sorry." She ambled over to the replicator and ordered a hot cup of tea and a muffin. She was far hungrier, but knew that her constitution was not up the usual marathon she put it through.
She settled on to the couch and prepared to devour her 'breakfast' when her door chime rang. She sighed and rose, pulling her robe tighter around her slim frame. "Yes."
The doors swished open revealing a very eager looking Deanna Troi. "Beverly - I'm sorry to disturb you, but I just couldn't wait to see you. Can I come in?"
Crusher set her tea down and rushed forward. "Deanna, of course. I'm so glad to see you!" She extended her arms and the two shared a warm reunion. "I have missed you so much. Even your unwelcome prodding."
Troi laughed and squeezed Beverly's arm. She noticed how much thinner and firmer it was, and a brief look of concern flashed across her face.
Beverly caught it and met her eyes. "I know." She shook her head. "I was just about to have breakfast. Can I get you anything?"
Troi walked over to the sofa and eyed Crusher's muffin skeptically. "No thanks. I had a late lunch. But please don't let me stop you."
Beverly winked. "Just try." She sat and motioned to Deanna to join her. Beverly sat quietly and ate while Deanna poked around in her head. She'd expected it and knew Deanna would be concerned if she tried to shut her out, so she simply relaxed and waited for her friend to open the conversation.
On cue, the brunette leaned back and fixed Beverly with a penetrating gaze. "That may be the first time you actually let me wander around in there. I'd ask you if you want to talk, but I know you don't."
Crusher set down her muffin and took a sip of tea. "Of course I don't. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't."
Troi donned a look of surprise. "That sounds like my line."
Beverly smiled wryly. "Let's cut to the chase. I'm deeply upset by the time I spent on New Genesis, and further traumatized by my captivity. I'm horrified by what happened to Thompson and Chopra, and I need some time away from Starfleet to put it all in perspective."
Deanna's expression was now shocked. "I don't know what to say, Beverly." She paused a moment, before leaning forward and putting a hand on Crusher's knee. "These are your own demons, Beverly. But I think that I can help you deal with some of it." She took a deep breath in. "Diana Thompson and Sira Chopra were not murdered by the Alliance." She paused again as Beverly's eyes widened and she slowly set down her tea. "Siohban staged their deaths in an attempt to manipulate us into negotiating with them. We found both of them unconscious during the raid." Troi let her revelation sink in and waited for Beverly to respond.
An expression of relief gradually replaced the one of shock on Crusher's face. "Where are they now? What is their condition?" She eagerly searched Deanna's face for answers.
"They're in sickbay. We found them about an hour after you beamed up to the ship. We didn't want to disturb you." Troi's eyes were large and filled with compassion. While the news was good, it did not abate the trauma of seeing a fellow officer shot point blank, and believing they'd died. Or the agony of believing you were about to die as well.
Crusher sat back and ran a hand through her hair. "Thank god." She stared at the far wall, fixing on an orchid that was on its last legs, thanks to neglect. The delicate flower was wilted, petals splayed on the counter. It would take quite a bit of attention to bring it back, if it were even possible. She gave a ragged sigh and tears again formed in her eyes. "I swear Deanna, I am so tired of crying." She laughed and brusquely wiped her eyes.
Troi sat quietly and waited for her friend to sort out her own emotions. She sensed quite a bit of confusion, hurt, anger, and fear. It was the last that concerned her, and that she would be focusing on in her future conversations with the Doctor. For now, it was time to change the subject. She could tell that Beverly had not yet gotten a handle on her thoughts about all that had transpired, and to push her now would only spark her quick temper.
"I'm sorry Beverly." She grasped her hand.
Crusher smiled and took Deanna's other hand. "I know. Thank you."
"Now." Deanna sat back and smiled. "I think you could do with an afternoon of some serious relaxation. What do you say about taking a trip with me to see Mr. Mott?"
Crusher smiled at her, but her eyes did not twinkle as they normally did. "I'd say you read my mind."
Deanna groaned, and Beverly laughed quietly as the two stood. "Just let me change into something I can wear out of here."
Troi stood with her hands clasped in front of her as she watched the tall, trim physician walk into her bedroom. She sensed that on the surface Beverly was dealing well with her ordeal, and her residual weariness from her two months on Genesis. But there was a deep melancholy below it all that concerned her.
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Picard took his cup of earl grey from the replicator and moved back to his seat. He and Admiral Wolf had been speaking for more than an hour in his ready room about the situation on the planet. While Captain Matta was also present, he's spoken little.
Picard rejoined the conversation, after sipping thoughtfully at his tea. He addressed the viewport as he spoke. "I agree that Siohban may be useful to us in garnering cooperation from the citizens of New Genesis for a temporary Federation ruling council." He paused and turned back to the Admiral. "But can we trust him?"
Wolf met his hazel eyes with her own deep brown. "Do we have a choice?"
Matta remained silent and Picard merely sighed. "It appears we do not."
Wolf gazed at the two Captains and obtained their tacit nods. They'd spent the last few hours discussing the situation on the planet and reviewing the strike on the rebel headquarters. Their leader captured, the Alliance was now broken. But without Siohban's cooperation, all knew it was a matter of time before the guerillas became active again. "Very well. I will take this back to the Federation council. I believe that upon review of the situation, they will agree that we cannot afford to pull resources from New Genesis at this time."
The trio sat silently for a while. Wolf turned to Matta. "Johnson, I need to discuss another matter with Captain Picard. Will you excuse us?"
Matta looked dubiously from Picard to Wolf before rising. "Captain, Admiral." He inclined his head and departed.
"Something on your mind, Admiral?" Picard saw no reason to hedge. He turned to face her fully, his gut telling him he would not be pleased with the subsequent answer.
Wolf met his gaze shrewdly. She'd heard much about Picard, but had not before worked with him directly. She'd been impressed with him, with the entire crew of the Enterprise. Reading him now, she felt there would only be one approach to this situation, and she chose to be direct. "When has Doctor Pulaski cleared Doctor Crusher for duty?"
Picard's face betrayed nothing. "Doctor Pulaski has assigned Doctor Crusher two days of medical leave." He sat forward. "If I may - why do you ask?"
"Jean-Luc. You knew when we assigned her to New Genesis that we were preparing to ask her to coordinate the roll-out of the new medical fleet. The developments over the past few days have sped up our timetable." She arched her brow and prepared to deliver the sucker punch. Picard's face remained impassive. "I'll be staying at Genesis to lead the interim council. But the Hera is scheduled to report to San Francisco at the end of this mission. Admiral Nechayev has requested I send Doctor Crusher back with them."
For an instant Phillipa Wolf thought she saw a crack in Picard's infamous façade. It was little more than a twitch of his mouth and a flash in his eyes, and it lasted less than a second. His reserve intact, Picard responded. "I was indeed aware of Doctor Crusher's pending promotion. It was my understanding however, that you had not yet taken it to her."
The corners of Wolf's mouth turned up slightly. Picard was nothing if not a strategist. "We have not Captain. Admiral Nechayev has authorized me to have you inform Doctor Crusher of this development. We know she's going to resist it, but it's an outstanding opportunity. I'm sure I don't have to tell you of its significance to her career."
"Indeed, Admiral." Picard brought his hands together and again turned toward the viewport.
While she had gotten to know Picard well, she still new little of the Doctor except by reputation, which preceded her. "Captain, do you think you can persuade her to accept?" If Picard couldn't, she doubted it was possible at all.
Picard did not respond immediately, but seemed to pull himself back into the room before speaking. "I will do my best, Admiral."
Wolf stood. "That's all were asking." She extended her hand. "It's been a real pleasure, Jean-Luc."
"For me as well, Admiral." Picard took her hand and found her grasp surprisingly firm.
"Please, Phillipa." Wolf smiled warmly. She hoped to consider Picard a friend.
"Very well." Picard returned the smile openly and walked around his desk. "I'll see you to the transporter room."
"That won't be necessary, Captain. I think you've got your work cut out for you here." She favored him with a compassionate gaze. "We're hoping to hear from the Doctor in the morning."
Picard nodded. "Understood. Good luck, Phillipa."
"To you as well, Jean-Luc." With that, she turned and left. Picard watched silently as the doors swished closed, a grim expression on his face.
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Beverly Crusher felt like a new woman as she returned from her afternoon. She'd had a massage, facial, manicure, and pedicure, and Mott had been a wonder with her hair. She'd told him not to color it, and he'd only trimmed the split ends. Beverly had an idea that Picard preferred her hair long and dark, and she delighted in pleasing him. She wondered what he was up to on the bridge. He'd been out of touch all day, and she figured he was quite busy wrapping up affairs from New Genesis. Frankly, she could care less what became of it all. She'd been thrilled to hear that Thompson and Chopra had survived. She'd stopped by sickbay on her way back, and both were doing well. Beverly knew she'd be speaking to Picard later to fully debrief on her captivity.
She drifted into her cabin and strolled over to the desk to check her messages. There were few, mostly well-wishes from friends onboard and invitations to get together. As she was reading, a new message from Jean- Luc appeared. She closed out a note from Will and opened the Captain's.
"Beverly. If you're feeling up to it, I would love to have you over for a quiet dinner. I've missed you terribly and can't wait to spend the evening with you. I'll see you at 1900? - JLP"
His style was succinct as usual, and brought a grin to her lips. She responded promptly.
"Jean-Luc - I can think of nothing more delightful than dining with you tonite. I agree only on one condition - that you promise we'll have breakfast in your quarters as well. - DBC"
Beverly's grin widened as she imagined Picard's embarrassment. Once he was off the bridge, he was the most flappable man she knew. Deciding to ruffle his feathers further, she rose and headed to the bedroom to dress for dinner.
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Picard had been scandalized by the entendre in Beverly's message, which in all honesty had been quite mild. It wasn't the words that had caused him to blush, but rather the images they conjured in his mind. He'd quickly exited his ready room to spend an hour on the bridge, which kept his mind on more professional matters. As the chronometer approached 1800, he again retreated to his ready room, signaling for Commander Riker to join him.
He took a seat at his desk, and motioned for Will to sit opposite. Reading the Captain's body language, he did so, smiling. "Sir?"
Picard could not conceal his own good humor. "I have a request for you, Number One."
Riker sat back and crossed his legs. "Name it."
Picard guessed that Will was aware of his plans for the evening. He'd consulted with Deanna earlier about the Doctor and how she was dealing with her experiences. She'd conveyed that she'd assessed Beverly and found her to be doing quite well regarding, though she did still have reservations about her overall state. Picard was glad to hear it, though it made his task for the evening even more difficult. He did not want to add to Crusher's burden, but had little choice. In any case, he'd told Deanna about his plans to dine with Beverly, and judging by the grin on Will's face, he figured the information had been passed on. He took small comfort in the fact that it would not go beyond the two. A bit uncomfortable, he forged ahead.
"Will, I have plans for this evening, and I wish not to be disturbed. I would ask you to screen my communications. I leave it to your discretion which need my immediate attention." Picard delivered his request with all the gravity he would give an order to fire on an enemy vessel.
Riker easily sensed Picard's discomfort and immediately changed his expression to one of somber compliance. "Absolutely sir. Is there anything else?"
"No, thank you Commander, that will be all." Picard broke his manner and smiled. "Thank you, Will."
Riker smiled back. "It's the least I can do sir. Please give Beverly my best."
Picard stood, indicating an end to the conversation. "You have the bridge Number One. I have an evening to plan."
Riker stood, smiled and bowed. Sporting a fierce grin, he adjourned to the bridge.
Picard turned and clicked off his computer. His fingers lingering on the console and he gazed for a moment through the viewport. "Computer, lights down." Left in only the starlight, Picard straightened, tugged his uniform and exited directly into the corridor.
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Beverly Crusher stood outside Jean-Luc's door, thoroughly pleased with herself. There was still a darkness at the back of her mind, but she'd pushed it aside to concentrate on the evening. She had an agenda tonite, and she'd left her communicator in her cabin. She wore one her favorite new dresses, which she'd purchased on Earth during her last visit. Strapless and ethereal, it stopped an inch above her knees. It began at the top in a soft, rich creme and intensified in color all the way down, ending in a deep pink. Though she rarely wore them, tonite she had on low-heeled slides that accentuated her perfect pedicure. Modest in her tastes, she'd asked for a French manicure and pedicure, which actually went well with the dress she'd chosen.
Her hair glowed and hung in large, soft curls. She held it back on the sides with small clips, framing her face beautifully. Finally, she'd accessorized sparsely, wearing only a diamond solitare on an infinitely delicate silver chain. Jean-Luc Picard did not stand a chance.
She stepped forward and pressed the chime. As the door slid back, Beverly realized she was in just as deep. The first thing to take her breath away was Jean-Luc himself. Wearing a close-fit, lightweight black turtleneck and plain-front, straight-cut black slacks, his trim form was well-displayed. She reeled again as she saw past him, into his candle lit quarters. The table setting was exquisite, and there were bouquets of white roses adorning the desk, dining table, coffee table, and several other flat surfaces.
Wordlessly, she touched his cheek and moved past him. She stopped in her tracks as she heard music playing softly. "Jean-Luc. Gershwin." She turned back to him and smiled brilliantly. "This is all so wonderful." Impulsively, she moved in and kissed him breathlessly. She and Jean-Luc never touched that it did not threaten to carry them away, and she broke off quickly. There was a lot on her menu tonite, but for now food was at the top.
Picard could not have been more pleased with the results of his efforts. Beverly simply glowed in the soft light, and she was clearly swept away by the ambience he'd crafted. He felt extremely guilty about hiding his secondary agenda for the evening, but for now he wanted nothing more than to enjoy the gorgeous Doctor's company.
"Beverly, you are stunning. I find myself at a loss for words." Picard gazed at her intently, his voice low and labored.
"That was the point, Jean-Luc. But I must say I wasn't anticipating such unmitigated success." Beverly's eyes twinkled, and she slowly turned her attention to the table. "What's for dinner?"
"Ah. The lady's true agenda revealed." Picard smiled and pulled out a chair. "Let us delay no further." He moved around the table and uncovered each of the dishes. He'd prepared quite a feast, and was looking forward to watching her devour every bite. He then uncorked a bottle of wine and poured a small amount into her glass.
She picked it up and took a delicate sip. "Exquisite. Let me guess." She paused reflectively. "Picard vintage of course. The '50?" She looked up at him expectantly.
His heart swelled. He knew she always paid close attention to the wine he presented her, but it was always flattering to hear her display her knowledge of it. "None other."
Crusher appraised the offerings. "How many are we expecting tonite?"
Picard laughed. "Just the two of us. But if you'll recall, Doctor Pulaski requested that I keep you well fed. And I intend to." He looked her over appraisingly, but Beverly felt nothing letcherous in his stare. Instead, she could feel his eyes lovingly taking in her form, and the subtle changes from the last months.
He'd always thought her just a bit thinner than what he considered healthy. Finally, he spoke. "You've lost weight, Beverly. And I honestly can't say I believed you could be any thinner."
Already settled into the meal, Crusher waved a fork at him. "It's not that I don't try, Jean-Luc. You've seen me eat." She took another bite to illustrate her point. "But I have the metabolism of a Ictarian Reft. I think it's from all my dance training when I was young." She alternated glances between Picard and her meal. "But I'm certainly looking forward to packing the pounds back on when I'm back on rotation here." She chewed another bite. "Seriously. It hurts when I sit on hard surfaces."
Picard chuckled, but his enjoyment of her company and the meal was overshadowed by the possibility that Crusher would not be sharing meals with him in the future. A vision crossed his mind of an endless series of breakfasts without her. He frowned.
Crusher caught it and looked up, concerned. "Is there something wrong?"
He shook off his melancholy, determined this time to forget it until the end of the meal. "I was just thinking about the time we spent apart."
Her eyes were far away as she responded. "It was hard on me as well. I can't wait to settle back into our old routine." She smiled and offered her hand. Picard took it.
Beverly searched his eyes as she held his hand. His touch was so intense, and he held her hand so tightly, as though clinging to her. She saw nothing in his eyes but love, and banished her questions. They, like her worries, were for another time.
They ate and chatted for quite a while longer. Finally, she moved to clear the table. Working in tandem, they were soon finished, and retired to the sofa. Both were feeling quite satisfied from the meal, and were lulled into a contented haze by the alcohol they'd consumed. Picard sat and placed the remaining half-bottle of wine on the table, and Beverly grabbed their glasses from the table. She sat down very near to him, their legs touching. She set down the glasses, and Picard refilled them.
Her eyes never leaving his, Beverly took a sip and set her glass back on the table. She then took his glass and placed it next to hers. During dinner they'd plowed through any small talk, and Beverly had grown more and more frustrated at the physical distance between them. Sitting so closely to him now, she was not about to waste any more time.
She whispered his name and placed her hand on his shirt. She could feel his well-muscled chest through the thin fabric and her heartbeat quickened. She leaned in toward him, and though he knew he should stop her, he could not resist just one kiss. He realized his folly as soon as their lips met, however, as he was immediately swept away by the insistence of her passion.
Beverly's heart was racing and her entire body quivering. She slid her other hand along the back of his neck and pulled him to her, deepening their contact. She sighed as she leaned against him. She angrily wimpered as he pulled away from her and chastely took her hands from his body and placed them in her lap.
Her eyes were smoldering. "What the hell are you doing?" She hadn't meant to frame her question that harshly, but she was rapidly losing control of herself and was thrown off by the unexpected interruption.
Picard merely raised his eyebrows. He knew her far too well to be angry with her. He saw the passion in her eyes, and struggled to control his own desire. "I'm sorry Beverly."
Her expression was one of sheer exasperation now, and Picard knew her temper was being narrowly held in check. "Beverly, there's something we need to discuss."
She shook her head. "Oh no you don't, Jean-Luc Picard. We have discussed, dissected, and danced around this for far too long already. I'm done talking."
Picard chuckled at her misunderstanding, but instantly realized that was the wrong move. He smoothly took her hands to calm her as he saw the blush rise in her cheeks. A full Howard display was not far off. He moved quickly to soothe her.
"Beverly, please. Hear me out. This is not about us." He met her eyes and saw she was somewhat placated. "At least not directly."
She gazed at him now with concern, and ran a hand over his jaw. She could see that whatever it was he had to say pained him deeply. "What is it?"
Now faced with a task he could not bear, he struggled to find a way to start. "There were two reasons I asked you here tonite. Primarily, I wanted to have you to myself, uninterrupted all evening." Beverly's heart melted at the adorably bashful look on his face. "Will is monitoring all my communications. I did not want to be disturbed tonite."
"That makes two of us." Crusher arched her eyebrow suggestively.
"Beverly." Picard's tone was one of low warning. "The second reason is one I am loathe to raise." The sad, pleading look was back in his eyes. "Beverly, your posting on New Genesis was quite deliberate." He sighed as he noticed her body language change. She tensed and sat up rigidly on the sofa. He had her full attention, and he spoke quickly. Now that the ball was rolling, he felt a need to confess all he knew.
"As you may know, Starfleet is in the process of developing a new medical fleet." Crusher certainly knew about it. Her opinion had been solicited by the admiralty several times regarding the concept. She was quite thrilled by it. She nodded, urging him on.
"Admiral Nechayev contacted me directly when your transfer request first arrived for New Genesis. I had not been ready to approve it, and she was calling to persuade me. She informed me that your posting was intended to round out your experience." Picard paused, expecting that Beverly was already composing the full scenario in her head.
"I happen to think my experience is already quite comprehensive." Crusher's tone was haughty.
Picard smiled faintly. Beverly was infinitely proud of her talents as a physician, as well she should be. "Well, Starfleet shares that opinion." He took her hands in his, preparing to drop the other shoe. "Beverly, they want you to head up the new medical fleet. I'd suspected, but Admiral Wolf made gave me the formal request today. They want you to leave for headquarters in the next few days. When the fleet is deployed, they want you to Captain the flagship." His tone was soft, and his eyes warm with compassion and love. "It's an amazing opportunity, Beverly."
Crusher sat silently, her eyes vacant and expression stunned. Picard saw the agony of the situation written on her face and felt his heart break. The repercussions were clear. Should she accept the offer, she would be at Starfleet HQ full time for at least two years. After that, she would head out in her own ship. Their paths would cross infrequently, and certainly not enough to sustain a relationship. He waited for her to speak.
When she did, her voice was almost inaudible. Tears shimmered in her eyes. "It's not fair." Beverly was aware of how lame that sounded, but she really didn't care. Those three words had been repeating in her head since she'd heard Jean-Luc's news. Finally, finally, she had bested her fears and moved forward. She'd let go of Jack, she'd opened her heart. She loved her life on the Enterprise, surrounded by friends she now considered family. She'd endured her time on New Genesis, knowing that at the end of the mission she would return to her real life, to Jean-Luc. Now, she was asked to return to the solitary life she'd worn so uncomfortably for so long. But it truly was an amazing opportunity. A promotion to Captain. Her own ship. A chance to mold the medical fleet and change Federation policy. Professionally, it was the very height of all she could hope to accomplish. Personally, it was a disaster.
She reached out to touch his face. "Oh Jean-Luc." For a moment she was paralyzed by the situation. Seeing all that she loved sitting before her, however, she found strength. The panic left her eyes, and they instantly became a steely blue.
Picard sensed the change in her demeanor and raised his brow in question. "Beverly?"
She touched his lips with her fingertips. "No more talk of this tonite."
Picard appeared nonplussed. "Wolf wants an answer in the morning."
"And she'll have it." Beverly paused, staring into Jean-Luc's dark hazel eyes. "But I came here tonite with a purpose. And you of all people should know, Jean-Luc, that when I want something it's very hard to stop me." She stood and drained her glass. She extended a hand to Picard. Still confused, he took it and stood beside her.
"You and I have waited far too long for this, and Starfleet is not about to stand in our way. At least for tonite." She punctuated her sentences with soft kisses to his face and neck, and he found his concern and his reserve melting beneath them.
He had one last ounce of strength, and with it he pulled away again. "Beverly, are you sure?" He searched her eyes for some sign of insecurity. He found none.
In answer, she merely snaked her hand around his neck and drew him to her. She kissed him deeply, and he was no longer able to stop himself. Beverly Crusher had been occupying his dreams for more than twenty years. If this were what she wanted, he would not resist further.
For her part, Beverly found herself completely lost in passion. She wanted to think no more of the past or future, but only of the joy she felt in her heart to hold Jean-Luc close. For years she had been pulled to him, and tonite was the fulfillment of all that had been in her heart. She sighed against him and felt his body tremble.
The couple stood locked in their passionate embrace for quite some time. When her legs could support her no longer, Beverly placed her hands on Picard's chest and broke their contact. She then turned and walked directly into his bedroom, never turning to see if Jean-Luc followed. It would have been pointless, for he was less than a step behind her.
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OK seriously guys, I'm not sure how to wrap this up. What should her decision be - can this story have a happy ending? Should it have a happy ending? Please advise!
*********
Should I stay or should I go now?
Should I stay or should I go now?
If I go there will be trouble.
If I stay it will be double.
So come on and let me know, should I stay or should I go?
The Clash - Should I Stay or Should I Go? - www.epicrecords.com/theclash
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Chapter Four
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Groggily, Beverly Crusher rolled over and opened her eyes. "Computer, lights, 25%."
Her cabin came alight in a faint glow. Beverly groaned and rolled over again on to her back. The bed and pillow seemed gloriously soft. Last night she'd taken a bath and fallen asleep 5 minutes in. Waking with a start, she'd finished up, which had taken a while considering the state of her hair. Instead of taking the time to dry it, she'd simply braided it and hit the sack. Stretching, she sat up, pulled out the tie and began loosing her auburn tresses, which were now extremely wavy. Whatever.
"Computer, time?"
"The current time is 13:47."
Rubbing her eyes, she shook her head. How in the world had she slept so long? "Making up for lost time," she muttered. Standing, she arched her back and walked over to the closet. She pulled out her robe and walked into her living area. Her stomach rumbled angrily. "I know, I know, I'm sorry." She ambled over to the replicator and ordered a hot cup of tea and a muffin. She was far hungrier, but knew that her constitution was not up the usual marathon she put it through.
She settled on to the couch and prepared to devour her 'breakfast' when her door chime rang. She sighed and rose, pulling her robe tighter around her slim frame. "Yes."
The doors swished open revealing a very eager looking Deanna Troi. "Beverly - I'm sorry to disturb you, but I just couldn't wait to see you. Can I come in?"
Crusher set her tea down and rushed forward. "Deanna, of course. I'm so glad to see you!" She extended her arms and the two shared a warm reunion. "I have missed you so much. Even your unwelcome prodding."
Troi laughed and squeezed Beverly's arm. She noticed how much thinner and firmer it was, and a brief look of concern flashed across her face.
Beverly caught it and met her eyes. "I know." She shook her head. "I was just about to have breakfast. Can I get you anything?"
Troi walked over to the sofa and eyed Crusher's muffin skeptically. "No thanks. I had a late lunch. But please don't let me stop you."
Beverly winked. "Just try." She sat and motioned to Deanna to join her. Beverly sat quietly and ate while Deanna poked around in her head. She'd expected it and knew Deanna would be concerned if she tried to shut her out, so she simply relaxed and waited for her friend to open the conversation.
On cue, the brunette leaned back and fixed Beverly with a penetrating gaze. "That may be the first time you actually let me wander around in there. I'd ask you if you want to talk, but I know you don't."
Crusher set down her muffin and took a sip of tea. "Of course I don't. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't."
Troi donned a look of surprise. "That sounds like my line."
Beverly smiled wryly. "Let's cut to the chase. I'm deeply upset by the time I spent on New Genesis, and further traumatized by my captivity. I'm horrified by what happened to Thompson and Chopra, and I need some time away from Starfleet to put it all in perspective."
Deanna's expression was now shocked. "I don't know what to say, Beverly." She paused a moment, before leaning forward and putting a hand on Crusher's knee. "These are your own demons, Beverly. But I think that I can help you deal with some of it." She took a deep breath in. "Diana Thompson and Sira Chopra were not murdered by the Alliance." She paused again as Beverly's eyes widened and she slowly set down her tea. "Siohban staged their deaths in an attempt to manipulate us into negotiating with them. We found both of them unconscious during the raid." Troi let her revelation sink in and waited for Beverly to respond.
An expression of relief gradually replaced the one of shock on Crusher's face. "Where are they now? What is their condition?" She eagerly searched Deanna's face for answers.
"They're in sickbay. We found them about an hour after you beamed up to the ship. We didn't want to disturb you." Troi's eyes were large and filled with compassion. While the news was good, it did not abate the trauma of seeing a fellow officer shot point blank, and believing they'd died. Or the agony of believing you were about to die as well.
Crusher sat back and ran a hand through her hair. "Thank god." She stared at the far wall, fixing on an orchid that was on its last legs, thanks to neglect. The delicate flower was wilted, petals splayed on the counter. It would take quite a bit of attention to bring it back, if it were even possible. She gave a ragged sigh and tears again formed in her eyes. "I swear Deanna, I am so tired of crying." She laughed and brusquely wiped her eyes.
Troi sat quietly and waited for her friend to sort out her own emotions. She sensed quite a bit of confusion, hurt, anger, and fear. It was the last that concerned her, and that she would be focusing on in her future conversations with the Doctor. For now, it was time to change the subject. She could tell that Beverly had not yet gotten a handle on her thoughts about all that had transpired, and to push her now would only spark her quick temper.
"I'm sorry Beverly." She grasped her hand.
Crusher smiled and took Deanna's other hand. "I know. Thank you."
"Now." Deanna sat back and smiled. "I think you could do with an afternoon of some serious relaxation. What do you say about taking a trip with me to see Mr. Mott?"
Crusher smiled at her, but her eyes did not twinkle as they normally did. "I'd say you read my mind."
Deanna groaned, and Beverly laughed quietly as the two stood. "Just let me change into something I can wear out of here."
Troi stood with her hands clasped in front of her as she watched the tall, trim physician walk into her bedroom. She sensed that on the surface Beverly was dealing well with her ordeal, and her residual weariness from her two months on Genesis. But there was a deep melancholy below it all that concerned her.
*********
Picard took his cup of earl grey from the replicator and moved back to his seat. He and Admiral Wolf had been speaking for more than an hour in his ready room about the situation on the planet. While Captain Matta was also present, he's spoken little.
Picard rejoined the conversation, after sipping thoughtfully at his tea. He addressed the viewport as he spoke. "I agree that Siohban may be useful to us in garnering cooperation from the citizens of New Genesis for a temporary Federation ruling council." He paused and turned back to the Admiral. "But can we trust him?"
Wolf met his hazel eyes with her own deep brown. "Do we have a choice?"
Matta remained silent and Picard merely sighed. "It appears we do not."
Wolf gazed at the two Captains and obtained their tacit nods. They'd spent the last few hours discussing the situation on the planet and reviewing the strike on the rebel headquarters. Their leader captured, the Alliance was now broken. But without Siohban's cooperation, all knew it was a matter of time before the guerillas became active again. "Very well. I will take this back to the Federation council. I believe that upon review of the situation, they will agree that we cannot afford to pull resources from New Genesis at this time."
The trio sat silently for a while. Wolf turned to Matta. "Johnson, I need to discuss another matter with Captain Picard. Will you excuse us?"
Matta looked dubiously from Picard to Wolf before rising. "Captain, Admiral." He inclined his head and departed.
"Something on your mind, Admiral?" Picard saw no reason to hedge. He turned to face her fully, his gut telling him he would not be pleased with the subsequent answer.
Wolf met his gaze shrewdly. She'd heard much about Picard, but had not before worked with him directly. She'd been impressed with him, with the entire crew of the Enterprise. Reading him now, she felt there would only be one approach to this situation, and she chose to be direct. "When has Doctor Pulaski cleared Doctor Crusher for duty?"
Picard's face betrayed nothing. "Doctor Pulaski has assigned Doctor Crusher two days of medical leave." He sat forward. "If I may - why do you ask?"
"Jean-Luc. You knew when we assigned her to New Genesis that we were preparing to ask her to coordinate the roll-out of the new medical fleet. The developments over the past few days have sped up our timetable." She arched her brow and prepared to deliver the sucker punch. Picard's face remained impassive. "I'll be staying at Genesis to lead the interim council. But the Hera is scheduled to report to San Francisco at the end of this mission. Admiral Nechayev has requested I send Doctor Crusher back with them."
For an instant Phillipa Wolf thought she saw a crack in Picard's infamous façade. It was little more than a twitch of his mouth and a flash in his eyes, and it lasted less than a second. His reserve intact, Picard responded. "I was indeed aware of Doctor Crusher's pending promotion. It was my understanding however, that you had not yet taken it to her."
The corners of Wolf's mouth turned up slightly. Picard was nothing if not a strategist. "We have not Captain. Admiral Nechayev has authorized me to have you inform Doctor Crusher of this development. We know she's going to resist it, but it's an outstanding opportunity. I'm sure I don't have to tell you of its significance to her career."
"Indeed, Admiral." Picard brought his hands together and again turned toward the viewport.
While she had gotten to know Picard well, she still new little of the Doctor except by reputation, which preceded her. "Captain, do you think you can persuade her to accept?" If Picard couldn't, she doubted it was possible at all.
Picard did not respond immediately, but seemed to pull himself back into the room before speaking. "I will do my best, Admiral."
Wolf stood. "That's all were asking." She extended her hand. "It's been a real pleasure, Jean-Luc."
"For me as well, Admiral." Picard took her hand and found her grasp surprisingly firm.
"Please, Phillipa." Wolf smiled warmly. She hoped to consider Picard a friend.
"Very well." Picard returned the smile openly and walked around his desk. "I'll see you to the transporter room."
"That won't be necessary, Captain. I think you've got your work cut out for you here." She favored him with a compassionate gaze. "We're hoping to hear from the Doctor in the morning."
Picard nodded. "Understood. Good luck, Phillipa."
"To you as well, Jean-Luc." With that, she turned and left. Picard watched silently as the doors swished closed, a grim expression on his face.
*********
Beverly Crusher felt like a new woman as she returned from her afternoon. She'd had a massage, facial, manicure, and pedicure, and Mott had been a wonder with her hair. She'd told him not to color it, and he'd only trimmed the split ends. Beverly had an idea that Picard preferred her hair long and dark, and she delighted in pleasing him. She wondered what he was up to on the bridge. He'd been out of touch all day, and she figured he was quite busy wrapping up affairs from New Genesis. Frankly, she could care less what became of it all. She'd been thrilled to hear that Thompson and Chopra had survived. She'd stopped by sickbay on her way back, and both were doing well. Beverly knew she'd be speaking to Picard later to fully debrief on her captivity.
She drifted into her cabin and strolled over to the desk to check her messages. There were few, mostly well-wishes from friends onboard and invitations to get together. As she was reading, a new message from Jean- Luc appeared. She closed out a note from Will and opened the Captain's.
"Beverly. If you're feeling up to it, I would love to have you over for a quiet dinner. I've missed you terribly and can't wait to spend the evening with you. I'll see you at 1900? - JLP"
His style was succinct as usual, and brought a grin to her lips. She responded promptly.
"Jean-Luc - I can think of nothing more delightful than dining with you tonite. I agree only on one condition - that you promise we'll have breakfast in your quarters as well. - DBC"
Beverly's grin widened as she imagined Picard's embarrassment. Once he was off the bridge, he was the most flappable man she knew. Deciding to ruffle his feathers further, she rose and headed to the bedroom to dress for dinner.
*********
Picard had been scandalized by the entendre in Beverly's message, which in all honesty had been quite mild. It wasn't the words that had caused him to blush, but rather the images they conjured in his mind. He'd quickly exited his ready room to spend an hour on the bridge, which kept his mind on more professional matters. As the chronometer approached 1800, he again retreated to his ready room, signaling for Commander Riker to join him.
He took a seat at his desk, and motioned for Will to sit opposite. Reading the Captain's body language, he did so, smiling. "Sir?"
Picard could not conceal his own good humor. "I have a request for you, Number One."
Riker sat back and crossed his legs. "Name it."
Picard guessed that Will was aware of his plans for the evening. He'd consulted with Deanna earlier about the Doctor and how she was dealing with her experiences. She'd conveyed that she'd assessed Beverly and found her to be doing quite well regarding, though she did still have reservations about her overall state. Picard was glad to hear it, though it made his task for the evening even more difficult. He did not want to add to Crusher's burden, but had little choice. In any case, he'd told Deanna about his plans to dine with Beverly, and judging by the grin on Will's face, he figured the information had been passed on. He took small comfort in the fact that it would not go beyond the two. A bit uncomfortable, he forged ahead.
"Will, I have plans for this evening, and I wish not to be disturbed. I would ask you to screen my communications. I leave it to your discretion which need my immediate attention." Picard delivered his request with all the gravity he would give an order to fire on an enemy vessel.
Riker easily sensed Picard's discomfort and immediately changed his expression to one of somber compliance. "Absolutely sir. Is there anything else?"
"No, thank you Commander, that will be all." Picard broke his manner and smiled. "Thank you, Will."
Riker smiled back. "It's the least I can do sir. Please give Beverly my best."
Picard stood, indicating an end to the conversation. "You have the bridge Number One. I have an evening to plan."
Riker stood, smiled and bowed. Sporting a fierce grin, he adjourned to the bridge.
Picard turned and clicked off his computer. His fingers lingering on the console and he gazed for a moment through the viewport. "Computer, lights down." Left in only the starlight, Picard straightened, tugged his uniform and exited directly into the corridor.
*********
Beverly Crusher stood outside Jean-Luc's door, thoroughly pleased with herself. There was still a darkness at the back of her mind, but she'd pushed it aside to concentrate on the evening. She had an agenda tonite, and she'd left her communicator in her cabin. She wore one her favorite new dresses, which she'd purchased on Earth during her last visit. Strapless and ethereal, it stopped an inch above her knees. It began at the top in a soft, rich creme and intensified in color all the way down, ending in a deep pink. Though she rarely wore them, tonite she had on low-heeled slides that accentuated her perfect pedicure. Modest in her tastes, she'd asked for a French manicure and pedicure, which actually went well with the dress she'd chosen.
Her hair glowed and hung in large, soft curls. She held it back on the sides with small clips, framing her face beautifully. Finally, she'd accessorized sparsely, wearing only a diamond solitare on an infinitely delicate silver chain. Jean-Luc Picard did not stand a chance.
She stepped forward and pressed the chime. As the door slid back, Beverly realized she was in just as deep. The first thing to take her breath away was Jean-Luc himself. Wearing a close-fit, lightweight black turtleneck and plain-front, straight-cut black slacks, his trim form was well-displayed. She reeled again as she saw past him, into his candle lit quarters. The table setting was exquisite, and there were bouquets of white roses adorning the desk, dining table, coffee table, and several other flat surfaces.
Wordlessly, she touched his cheek and moved past him. She stopped in her tracks as she heard music playing softly. "Jean-Luc. Gershwin." She turned back to him and smiled brilliantly. "This is all so wonderful." Impulsively, she moved in and kissed him breathlessly. She and Jean-Luc never touched that it did not threaten to carry them away, and she broke off quickly. There was a lot on her menu tonite, but for now food was at the top.
Picard could not have been more pleased with the results of his efforts. Beverly simply glowed in the soft light, and she was clearly swept away by the ambience he'd crafted. He felt extremely guilty about hiding his secondary agenda for the evening, but for now he wanted nothing more than to enjoy the gorgeous Doctor's company.
"Beverly, you are stunning. I find myself at a loss for words." Picard gazed at her intently, his voice low and labored.
"That was the point, Jean-Luc. But I must say I wasn't anticipating such unmitigated success." Beverly's eyes twinkled, and she slowly turned her attention to the table. "What's for dinner?"
"Ah. The lady's true agenda revealed." Picard smiled and pulled out a chair. "Let us delay no further." He moved around the table and uncovered each of the dishes. He'd prepared quite a feast, and was looking forward to watching her devour every bite. He then uncorked a bottle of wine and poured a small amount into her glass.
She picked it up and took a delicate sip. "Exquisite. Let me guess." She paused reflectively. "Picard vintage of course. The '50?" She looked up at him expectantly.
His heart swelled. He knew she always paid close attention to the wine he presented her, but it was always flattering to hear her display her knowledge of it. "None other."
Crusher appraised the offerings. "How many are we expecting tonite?"
Picard laughed. "Just the two of us. But if you'll recall, Doctor Pulaski requested that I keep you well fed. And I intend to." He looked her over appraisingly, but Beverly felt nothing letcherous in his stare. Instead, she could feel his eyes lovingly taking in her form, and the subtle changes from the last months.
He'd always thought her just a bit thinner than what he considered healthy. Finally, he spoke. "You've lost weight, Beverly. And I honestly can't say I believed you could be any thinner."
Already settled into the meal, Crusher waved a fork at him. "It's not that I don't try, Jean-Luc. You've seen me eat." She took another bite to illustrate her point. "But I have the metabolism of a Ictarian Reft. I think it's from all my dance training when I was young." She alternated glances between Picard and her meal. "But I'm certainly looking forward to packing the pounds back on when I'm back on rotation here." She chewed another bite. "Seriously. It hurts when I sit on hard surfaces."
Picard chuckled, but his enjoyment of her company and the meal was overshadowed by the possibility that Crusher would not be sharing meals with him in the future. A vision crossed his mind of an endless series of breakfasts without her. He frowned.
Crusher caught it and looked up, concerned. "Is there something wrong?"
He shook off his melancholy, determined this time to forget it until the end of the meal. "I was just thinking about the time we spent apart."
Her eyes were far away as she responded. "It was hard on me as well. I can't wait to settle back into our old routine." She smiled and offered her hand. Picard took it.
Beverly searched his eyes as she held his hand. His touch was so intense, and he held her hand so tightly, as though clinging to her. She saw nothing in his eyes but love, and banished her questions. They, like her worries, were for another time.
They ate and chatted for quite a while longer. Finally, she moved to clear the table. Working in tandem, they were soon finished, and retired to the sofa. Both were feeling quite satisfied from the meal, and were lulled into a contented haze by the alcohol they'd consumed. Picard sat and placed the remaining half-bottle of wine on the table, and Beverly grabbed their glasses from the table. She sat down very near to him, their legs touching. She set down the glasses, and Picard refilled them.
Her eyes never leaving his, Beverly took a sip and set her glass back on the table. She then took his glass and placed it next to hers. During dinner they'd plowed through any small talk, and Beverly had grown more and more frustrated at the physical distance between them. Sitting so closely to him now, she was not about to waste any more time.
She whispered his name and placed her hand on his shirt. She could feel his well-muscled chest through the thin fabric and her heartbeat quickened. She leaned in toward him, and though he knew he should stop her, he could not resist just one kiss. He realized his folly as soon as their lips met, however, as he was immediately swept away by the insistence of her passion.
Beverly's heart was racing and her entire body quivering. She slid her other hand along the back of his neck and pulled him to her, deepening their contact. She sighed as she leaned against him. She angrily wimpered as he pulled away from her and chastely took her hands from his body and placed them in her lap.
Her eyes were smoldering. "What the hell are you doing?" She hadn't meant to frame her question that harshly, but she was rapidly losing control of herself and was thrown off by the unexpected interruption.
Picard merely raised his eyebrows. He knew her far too well to be angry with her. He saw the passion in her eyes, and struggled to control his own desire. "I'm sorry Beverly."
Her expression was one of sheer exasperation now, and Picard knew her temper was being narrowly held in check. "Beverly, there's something we need to discuss."
She shook her head. "Oh no you don't, Jean-Luc Picard. We have discussed, dissected, and danced around this for far too long already. I'm done talking."
Picard chuckled at her misunderstanding, but instantly realized that was the wrong move. He smoothly took her hands to calm her as he saw the blush rise in her cheeks. A full Howard display was not far off. He moved quickly to soothe her.
"Beverly, please. Hear me out. This is not about us." He met her eyes and saw she was somewhat placated. "At least not directly."
She gazed at him now with concern, and ran a hand over his jaw. She could see that whatever it was he had to say pained him deeply. "What is it?"
Now faced with a task he could not bear, he struggled to find a way to start. "There were two reasons I asked you here tonite. Primarily, I wanted to have you to myself, uninterrupted all evening." Beverly's heart melted at the adorably bashful look on his face. "Will is monitoring all my communications. I did not want to be disturbed tonite."
"That makes two of us." Crusher arched her eyebrow suggestively.
"Beverly." Picard's tone was one of low warning. "The second reason is one I am loathe to raise." The sad, pleading look was back in his eyes. "Beverly, your posting on New Genesis was quite deliberate." He sighed as he noticed her body language change. She tensed and sat up rigidly on the sofa. He had her full attention, and he spoke quickly. Now that the ball was rolling, he felt a need to confess all he knew.
"As you may know, Starfleet is in the process of developing a new medical fleet." Crusher certainly knew about it. Her opinion had been solicited by the admiralty several times regarding the concept. She was quite thrilled by it. She nodded, urging him on.
"Admiral Nechayev contacted me directly when your transfer request first arrived for New Genesis. I had not been ready to approve it, and she was calling to persuade me. She informed me that your posting was intended to round out your experience." Picard paused, expecting that Beverly was already composing the full scenario in her head.
"I happen to think my experience is already quite comprehensive." Crusher's tone was haughty.
Picard smiled faintly. Beverly was infinitely proud of her talents as a physician, as well she should be. "Well, Starfleet shares that opinion." He took her hands in his, preparing to drop the other shoe. "Beverly, they want you to head up the new medical fleet. I'd suspected, but Admiral Wolf made gave me the formal request today. They want you to leave for headquarters in the next few days. When the fleet is deployed, they want you to Captain the flagship." His tone was soft, and his eyes warm with compassion and love. "It's an amazing opportunity, Beverly."
Crusher sat silently, her eyes vacant and expression stunned. Picard saw the agony of the situation written on her face and felt his heart break. The repercussions were clear. Should she accept the offer, she would be at Starfleet HQ full time for at least two years. After that, she would head out in her own ship. Their paths would cross infrequently, and certainly not enough to sustain a relationship. He waited for her to speak.
When she did, her voice was almost inaudible. Tears shimmered in her eyes. "It's not fair." Beverly was aware of how lame that sounded, but she really didn't care. Those three words had been repeating in her head since she'd heard Jean-Luc's news. Finally, finally, she had bested her fears and moved forward. She'd let go of Jack, she'd opened her heart. She loved her life on the Enterprise, surrounded by friends she now considered family. She'd endured her time on New Genesis, knowing that at the end of the mission she would return to her real life, to Jean-Luc. Now, she was asked to return to the solitary life she'd worn so uncomfortably for so long. But it truly was an amazing opportunity. A promotion to Captain. Her own ship. A chance to mold the medical fleet and change Federation policy. Professionally, it was the very height of all she could hope to accomplish. Personally, it was a disaster.
She reached out to touch his face. "Oh Jean-Luc." For a moment she was paralyzed by the situation. Seeing all that she loved sitting before her, however, she found strength. The panic left her eyes, and they instantly became a steely blue.
Picard sensed the change in her demeanor and raised his brow in question. "Beverly?"
She touched his lips with her fingertips. "No more talk of this tonite."
Picard appeared nonplussed. "Wolf wants an answer in the morning."
"And she'll have it." Beverly paused, staring into Jean-Luc's dark hazel eyes. "But I came here tonite with a purpose. And you of all people should know, Jean-Luc, that when I want something it's very hard to stop me." She stood and drained her glass. She extended a hand to Picard. Still confused, he took it and stood beside her.
"You and I have waited far too long for this, and Starfleet is not about to stand in our way. At least for tonite." She punctuated her sentences with soft kisses to his face and neck, and he found his concern and his reserve melting beneath them.
He had one last ounce of strength, and with it he pulled away again. "Beverly, are you sure?" He searched her eyes for some sign of insecurity. He found none.
In answer, she merely snaked her hand around his neck and drew him to her. She kissed him deeply, and he was no longer able to stop himself. Beverly Crusher had been occupying his dreams for more than twenty years. If this were what she wanted, he would not resist further.
For her part, Beverly found herself completely lost in passion. She wanted to think no more of the past or future, but only of the joy she felt in her heart to hold Jean-Luc close. For years she had been pulled to him, and tonite was the fulfillment of all that had been in her heart. She sighed against him and felt his body tremble.
The couple stood locked in their passionate embrace for quite some time. When her legs could support her no longer, Beverly placed her hands on Picard's chest and broke their contact. She then turned and walked directly into his bedroom, never turning to see if Jean-Luc followed. It would have been pointless, for he was less than a step behind her.
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OK seriously guys, I'm not sure how to wrap this up. What should her decision be - can this story have a happy ending? Should it have a happy ending? Please advise!
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Should I stay or should I go now?
Should I stay or should I go now?
If I go there will be trouble.
If I stay it will be double.
So come on and let me know, should I stay or should I go?
The Clash - Should I Stay or Should I Go? - www.epicrecords.com/theclash
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