It's not what you think
There was a considerable amount of possible things to say, and a scaring variety of things to think, but, with only five seconds to react, Beverly could only come up, rather lamely, with the obvious:
"Uhm... good morning, Deanna."
"Oh..."
With astonishing self-possession, Deanna immediately controlled her shock, until her expression was only one of mild surprise. Well, almost immediately. ALMOST mild.
"Good morning, Beverly."
Pause.
More pause.
Even more pause. Beverly realized they could easily be stuck in this cosmic awkwardness until well into the next century.
"How was your shore leave, Beverly?"
"Oh... fine, great, uhm, I mean... good. Too short, I guess. How was yours?" Did you meet Worf's parents? Did he propose yet? Did you have sex? Why are you here, why, why?
"I had a very good time, thank you."
What was this, Jane Austen? For heavens sake, they were going to start doing courtesies to each other in no time! Beverly was very fond of Jane Austen, but in that precise moment she discovered that this kind of situations were much more enjoyable when you could turn the page and knew that a couple of well arranged and happy marriages awaited you.
"... I was looking for Will, is he around?"
Around? Of course he's "around", these are his quarters! Why don't you ask me what I'm doing here?
"Yeah, he's in the shower", Beverly offered cheerfully.
Oops. That didn't sound good.
"Oh. I see."
"He'll be out any minute. Would you like a coffee? A... hot chocolate?"
What am I now, the perfect hostess?
"No, thank you. Would you just tell him I'm back and I came by to say hello?"
"Sure."
"Oh, and, Beverly?"
"Yes?"
"I'm glad to see you."
"Me too, Deanna."
Beverly was sinking back onto the bed - again - when Will came out of the bathroom, hair dripping and looking notoriously refreshed. Actually, he looked gorgeous. Good that Beverly was too tired, sick and strung up to notice any of that.
"Beverly, did I just hear you talk to yourself?"
"No, I... I was just-"
For a moment, Beverly considered not telling Will about Deanna's visit. If she did, that comfortable, relaxed atmosphere they had shared would vanish, and Beverly had the feeling that something very precious and fragile would disappear forever.
But she had no right to take that kind of decisions for him. "I was talking to Deanna. She just came back and asked to tell you she came by to say hello."
"Oh."
"I... I think I'll better go now, Will." Beverly stood up and picked up her shoes from the floor.
"What about your shower?"
"I have a shower in my quarters, too, you know? And I think I can find the way now. It's still early, and half of the people are still away on shore leave, so with any luck no one will see me slouching around in a crumpled evening dress." And no one will see my hair.
"Well... ok." They were standing by the door now. One more step and it would open, she would step out and be gone.
"I... I had a great time, Will. Thank you."
"I had a great time, too. There's nothing to thank me for. I should be the one thanking you."
She smiled and turned to go. Will remembered her sad eyes yesterday in Ten Forward; he remembered her a couple of hours later, with tears rolling down her cheeks and a piece of lime in her mouth, while she almost toppled over with laughter; he remembered the white curve of her neck while she walked ahead of him across a dark, deserted street; and he remembered how Odan had felt whenever he looked at her.
The door was beginning to slide open.
"Don't go."
Beverly turned around.
"I... what I mean is - you don't HAVE to go. Maybe... maybe we could have breakfast together... if you want."
Will Riker offered a rather pathetic image: wet hair lying flat again his skull, eyes huge, face one big question mark, hand hesitantly stretched out, not touching hers by inches.
"Do you really think breakfast is a good idea, Will?"
He took a deep breath. "I think it's a great idea."
The doors slid silently shut behind Beverly Crusher.
There was a considerable amount of possible things to say, and a scaring variety of things to think, but, with only five seconds to react, Beverly could only come up, rather lamely, with the obvious:
"Uhm... good morning, Deanna."
"Oh..."
With astonishing self-possession, Deanna immediately controlled her shock, until her expression was only one of mild surprise. Well, almost immediately. ALMOST mild.
"Good morning, Beverly."
Pause.
More pause.
Even more pause. Beverly realized they could easily be stuck in this cosmic awkwardness until well into the next century.
"How was your shore leave, Beverly?"
"Oh... fine, great, uhm, I mean... good. Too short, I guess. How was yours?" Did you meet Worf's parents? Did he propose yet? Did you have sex? Why are you here, why, why?
"I had a very good time, thank you."
What was this, Jane Austen? For heavens sake, they were going to start doing courtesies to each other in no time! Beverly was very fond of Jane Austen, but in that precise moment she discovered that this kind of situations were much more enjoyable when you could turn the page and knew that a couple of well arranged and happy marriages awaited you.
"... I was looking for Will, is he around?"
Around? Of course he's "around", these are his quarters! Why don't you ask me what I'm doing here?
"Yeah, he's in the shower", Beverly offered cheerfully.
Oops. That didn't sound good.
"Oh. I see."
"He'll be out any minute. Would you like a coffee? A... hot chocolate?"
What am I now, the perfect hostess?
"No, thank you. Would you just tell him I'm back and I came by to say hello?"
"Sure."
"Oh, and, Beverly?"
"Yes?"
"I'm glad to see you."
"Me too, Deanna."
Beverly was sinking back onto the bed - again - when Will came out of the bathroom, hair dripping and looking notoriously refreshed. Actually, he looked gorgeous. Good that Beverly was too tired, sick and strung up to notice any of that.
"Beverly, did I just hear you talk to yourself?"
"No, I... I was just-"
For a moment, Beverly considered not telling Will about Deanna's visit. If she did, that comfortable, relaxed atmosphere they had shared would vanish, and Beverly had the feeling that something very precious and fragile would disappear forever.
But she had no right to take that kind of decisions for him. "I was talking to Deanna. She just came back and asked to tell you she came by to say hello."
"Oh."
"I... I think I'll better go now, Will." Beverly stood up and picked up her shoes from the floor.
"What about your shower?"
"I have a shower in my quarters, too, you know? And I think I can find the way now. It's still early, and half of the people are still away on shore leave, so with any luck no one will see me slouching around in a crumpled evening dress." And no one will see my hair.
"Well... ok." They were standing by the door now. One more step and it would open, she would step out and be gone.
"I... I had a great time, Will. Thank you."
"I had a great time, too. There's nothing to thank me for. I should be the one thanking you."
She smiled and turned to go. Will remembered her sad eyes yesterday in Ten Forward; he remembered her a couple of hours later, with tears rolling down her cheeks and a piece of lime in her mouth, while she almost toppled over with laughter; he remembered the white curve of her neck while she walked ahead of him across a dark, deserted street; and he remembered how Odan had felt whenever he looked at her.
The door was beginning to slide open.
"Don't go."
Beverly turned around.
"I... what I mean is - you don't HAVE to go. Maybe... maybe we could have breakfast together... if you want."
Will Riker offered a rather pathetic image: wet hair lying flat again his skull, eyes huge, face one big question mark, hand hesitantly stretched out, not touching hers by inches.
"Do you really think breakfast is a good idea, Will?"
He took a deep breath. "I think it's a great idea."
The doors slid silently shut behind Beverly Crusher.