Summary: The morning after... and a not very big surprise at the end.
Review: Yes, please!!! The "to be continued" or not is in YOUR hands...
Chapter 2: Oh my God.
"Ow!"
Beverly was lying on her stomach, arms and legs sprawled across the bed. She had been awake for some time - it could be an hour, it could be five minutes -, unable move, unable to think, unable to remember where she was and not really caring. Her head throbbed rhythmically, her limbs were leaden, her mouth was dry.
Gradually, consciousness began to settle in. She was lying on a bed, and although she felt like dying, she was most likely "only" suffering from a spectacular hangover. The next logical step was to get up, go to the bathroom, drink water, and then do something to keep her head from falling apart - "doctor, heal thyself". But the blinding ray of light that had flashed into her left eye when she half-opened it tentatively had been too much. Beverly fell back onto the bed and buried her head beneath the pillow.
Pillow. Why was there a pillow on her bed? She didn't like to sleep with pillows, it was bad for her back. She kept them all in a drawer with the spare blankets. Well, she had obviously been so boozed the night before that maybe a pillow seemed like a good idea. People do strange things when they are drunk, they -
Oh my God.
"Will?"
Her throat was so sore that even that little syllable hurt like a thousand small needles frantically seeking their way out. Beverly's voice was barely audible and muffled though the pillow over her head, but the answer came almost instantaneously. It was someone standing to the left of the bed. Someone whose voice didn't sound much better than hers. Someone tall.
"Good morning, Beverly."
OH MY GOD!!
She had to look. She would have to anyway, eventually. If he was really there, burying her head under a pillow and pretending nothing had happened would make her look even more ridiculous than she was looking now. And maybe, maybe (oh please please please) he was not there and she was only panicking, and this was not his quarters, and...
As she looked up into Will Riker's face, blinking furiously and brushing her hair out of her face, Beverly Crusher tried to form a smile with her lips and failed miserably, while her mind was just one big question, formed of huge red letters: WHAT HAPPENED??
Will silently handed her a cup of coffee. Beverly made a face and sat up, noticing with a certain degree of relief that she was still wearing her dress and- yes, she was wearing her panties, too. Thank God for small favors.
"Yeah, I know how you feel. But it gets better after the first sip, believe me."
He sat down on the bed beside her, put the cup in her hand, then gently lifted her hand to her mouth. The strong smell helped her focus, and she took two slow sips while figuring what to say next.
Staring into the black liquid, Beverly tried to remember last night. She remembered Ten Forward, her sudden anger and frustration. She remembered the pain she had seen in Will's eyes, and Guinan's quizzical look following them as they left together. Then they had transported straight into New York City's less fashionable part, where she still knew some - well, less than fashionable clubs. As it turned out, so did Will. After Charlie's Place, where they had run into Charlie himself and had been treated to an unending amount of tequilas (Charlie said he owed them to her husband, a certain Buddy, and Beverly was by then more than willing to let him believe she was married to Captain James T. Kirk), events and people became dizzy.
The last thing she remembered was Will holding her very close, somewhere in a corridor on the Enterprise. The world around Beverly was spinning faster and faster, and she was very afraid some irresistible force would just suck her away, so she had put her arms around Will and held on tight.
And then she had woken up. In his bed.
There was no way around this now. They had to face this as adults.
"Uhm, Will..."
"Nothing happened, Beverly."
For the first time she looked straight into his eyes. There was an amused and mischievous sparkle in them, and a smile spreading all over his face. As he continued, Will couldn't repress a laugh.
"I'm sorry, Beverly, I should have told you right away, but you should have seen your face: staring into your coffee, face turning whiter and whiter, eyes opening wider and wider, sweat pearling on your forehead..."
"Ok, I know I'm not the prettiest maid in the kingdom this morning, but you're no Prince Charming either!" He was unshaved, eyes puffed, skin pasty, hair poking in all possible and impossible directions. Not precisely Number One at his very best.
"Touché. Sorry." He paused and took a deep breath. "Yesterday we were both..." He stopped again, at a loss for words.
"Pissed?", Beverly suggested.
Will smiled. "Pissed. Right. We went into some clubs, had a lot of drinks, and when we were back on the Enterprise, you couldn't remember the way to your quarters. I remembered where mine was -barely- and that's why you're here. Nothing to be ashamed about."
"Oh, you mean being so drunk I can't remember where my own quarters are is no reason to be embarassed?"
"Not when in presence of the man that almost was sick all over your very beautiful dress while stumbling through the corridors of the ship where he is second in command." While Beverly had a quick look down her dress, he stood up, groaning and holding his head. "Don't worry, I got to the bathroom in time."
Beverly chuckled and shook her head, then immediatly decided that hadn't been such a good idea.
"What about breakfast?"
"Ugh, Will, are you out of your mind!?"
"Right, how about a shower, then? Be my guest."
"Great. I just need a few minutes to recover..." Beverly took another sip of coffee, then sighed and sunk back onto the bed. The headache was beginning to come into the range of the bearable, and lying there, staring to the ceiling, she felt oddly relaxed, almost - comfortable. Will had already seen her worst, she didn't have to act all terse and professional, she didn't have to worry if she was attractive enough, because she KNEW she wasn't - and it was all right. When had been the last time she had felt like this around a man, completely unrestricted? Not since Jack. And she missed it.
"Mind if I go first?" That was Will from the bathroom.
"No, go right ahead", she murmured, and felt herself drift back into sleep. Maybe it was going to be a good shore leave after all...
And that was when Beverly heard the door whoosh open, and Deanna Troi's voice: "Will? Are you there?"
Review: Yes, please!!! The "to be continued" or not is in YOUR hands...
Chapter 2: Oh my God.
"Ow!"
Beverly was lying on her stomach, arms and legs sprawled across the bed. She had been awake for some time - it could be an hour, it could be five minutes -, unable move, unable to think, unable to remember where she was and not really caring. Her head throbbed rhythmically, her limbs were leaden, her mouth was dry.
Gradually, consciousness began to settle in. She was lying on a bed, and although she felt like dying, she was most likely "only" suffering from a spectacular hangover. The next logical step was to get up, go to the bathroom, drink water, and then do something to keep her head from falling apart - "doctor, heal thyself". But the blinding ray of light that had flashed into her left eye when she half-opened it tentatively had been too much. Beverly fell back onto the bed and buried her head beneath the pillow.
Pillow. Why was there a pillow on her bed? She didn't like to sleep with pillows, it was bad for her back. She kept them all in a drawer with the spare blankets. Well, she had obviously been so boozed the night before that maybe a pillow seemed like a good idea. People do strange things when they are drunk, they -
Oh my God.
"Will?"
Her throat was so sore that even that little syllable hurt like a thousand small needles frantically seeking their way out. Beverly's voice was barely audible and muffled though the pillow over her head, but the answer came almost instantaneously. It was someone standing to the left of the bed. Someone whose voice didn't sound much better than hers. Someone tall.
"Good morning, Beverly."
OH MY GOD!!
She had to look. She would have to anyway, eventually. If he was really there, burying her head under a pillow and pretending nothing had happened would make her look even more ridiculous than she was looking now. And maybe, maybe (oh please please please) he was not there and she was only panicking, and this was not his quarters, and...
As she looked up into Will Riker's face, blinking furiously and brushing her hair out of her face, Beverly Crusher tried to form a smile with her lips and failed miserably, while her mind was just one big question, formed of huge red letters: WHAT HAPPENED??
Will silently handed her a cup of coffee. Beverly made a face and sat up, noticing with a certain degree of relief that she was still wearing her dress and- yes, she was wearing her panties, too. Thank God for small favors.
"Yeah, I know how you feel. But it gets better after the first sip, believe me."
He sat down on the bed beside her, put the cup in her hand, then gently lifted her hand to her mouth. The strong smell helped her focus, and she took two slow sips while figuring what to say next.
Staring into the black liquid, Beverly tried to remember last night. She remembered Ten Forward, her sudden anger and frustration. She remembered the pain she had seen in Will's eyes, and Guinan's quizzical look following them as they left together. Then they had transported straight into New York City's less fashionable part, where she still knew some - well, less than fashionable clubs. As it turned out, so did Will. After Charlie's Place, where they had run into Charlie himself and had been treated to an unending amount of tequilas (Charlie said he owed them to her husband, a certain Buddy, and Beverly was by then more than willing to let him believe she was married to Captain James T. Kirk), events and people became dizzy.
The last thing she remembered was Will holding her very close, somewhere in a corridor on the Enterprise. The world around Beverly was spinning faster and faster, and she was very afraid some irresistible force would just suck her away, so she had put her arms around Will and held on tight.
And then she had woken up. In his bed.
There was no way around this now. They had to face this as adults.
"Uhm, Will..."
"Nothing happened, Beverly."
For the first time she looked straight into his eyes. There was an amused and mischievous sparkle in them, and a smile spreading all over his face. As he continued, Will couldn't repress a laugh.
"I'm sorry, Beverly, I should have told you right away, but you should have seen your face: staring into your coffee, face turning whiter and whiter, eyes opening wider and wider, sweat pearling on your forehead..."
"Ok, I know I'm not the prettiest maid in the kingdom this morning, but you're no Prince Charming either!" He was unshaved, eyes puffed, skin pasty, hair poking in all possible and impossible directions. Not precisely Number One at his very best.
"Touché. Sorry." He paused and took a deep breath. "Yesterday we were both..." He stopped again, at a loss for words.
"Pissed?", Beverly suggested.
Will smiled. "Pissed. Right. We went into some clubs, had a lot of drinks, and when we were back on the Enterprise, you couldn't remember the way to your quarters. I remembered where mine was -barely- and that's why you're here. Nothing to be ashamed about."
"Oh, you mean being so drunk I can't remember where my own quarters are is no reason to be embarassed?"
"Not when in presence of the man that almost was sick all over your very beautiful dress while stumbling through the corridors of the ship where he is second in command." While Beverly had a quick look down her dress, he stood up, groaning and holding his head. "Don't worry, I got to the bathroom in time."
Beverly chuckled and shook her head, then immediatly decided that hadn't been such a good idea.
"What about breakfast?"
"Ugh, Will, are you out of your mind!?"
"Right, how about a shower, then? Be my guest."
"Great. I just need a few minutes to recover..." Beverly took another sip of coffee, then sighed and sunk back onto the bed. The headache was beginning to come into the range of the bearable, and lying there, staring to the ceiling, she felt oddly relaxed, almost - comfortable. Will had already seen her worst, she didn't have to act all terse and professional, she didn't have to worry if she was attractive enough, because she KNEW she wasn't - and it was all right. When had been the last time she had felt like this around a man, completely unrestricted? Not since Jack. And she missed it.
"Mind if I go first?" That was Will from the bathroom.
"No, go right ahead", she murmured, and felt herself drift back into sleep. Maybe it was going to be a good shore leave after all...
And that was when Beverly heard the door whoosh open, and Deanna Troi's voice: "Will? Are you there?"