Comments: I want to thank all my kind and enthusiastic reviewers, especially Altra Palantir for laughing so much:)), and all those P/C shippers who decided to give this idea a chance. It's vital for this story that you keep telling me sincerely what you think, because (like Beverly and Will themselves) I have but a very dim idea of where this is going.
Chapter 4: One fine day
"Do you remember any of it?"
Will had been expecting the question, and yet it took him by surprise. Maybe that was the reason he answered spontaneously, or maybe it was because he hadn't been self-conscious and speaking freely without having to ask permission first for much longer than he was used to - one whole day.
"Yes, I do."
Beverly didn't urge him further on, but her look told him she wanted to know as much as he was ready to share. And, to his surprise, he found it would be easy to share it all (well, almost all) with her. They had shared so much already on this long, strange day...
---------------
Breakfast had lingered and turned into a very prolonged brunch, then into lunch and gradually into something like supper. Once the first few bites were hesitantly taken, they both discovered they were ravenously hungry, and the meal had turned first into a contest of who could come up with the best anti-hangover food, and then into a marathon of reminiscence, where they replicated in turns all kinds of meals that reminded them of their days at the academy, their youth, their childhood, their parents... All of a sudden, each new order to the replicator became a story, an adventure, a voyage to the past; with each new taste, one of them offered the other a piece of his or her life.
While Beverly chewed pancakes with maple syrup, Will talked about his mother, so golden and beautiful. He was very young when she left, but still it had broken apart his life. In a very low voice, almost a whisper, he said:
"It's not whole yet, you know? It still hurts so much..."
The kind of fierce and tender love she saw in his eyes sent shivers down Beverly's spine.
Then she had whispered her own secret recipe of cheesecake into the replicator, and told Will how it reminded her of her childhood summers, when she and her mother used to sit on the porch sharing a piece of cake, waiting for dad to come home. Years later, she and Wesley did the same, waiting for Jack, and Wesley would always finish his piece, although he hated cheesecake, because he knew this meant something special to her, and no other cake would do.
She missed him, and so she cried a little for him, and a little for Jack, and a little for herself, but it was ok. Will just smiled, as if it were perfectly natural for her to be sitting on the floor, sniffing into a cup of chocolate ice cream (he had replicated it because her mention of summer had brought to his mind his first girlfriend and first kiss, when he was twelve years old and spending a vacation with his grandparents in the country).
And it was. She was wearing one of his T-shirts (splattered with syrup and something that looked suspiciously like omelette) and no bra, her hair was just tied together loosely at the back of her neck... she had been the opposite of sophistication and feminine attractiveness all day - and she didn't care. Not once had she thought about her aspect. Or his.
They had rolled on the floor with laughter, they had cried, they had listened to sentimental songs and squealed in delight at the sheer shmaltzyness, or when they found out about a common favorite. For long minutes they had just been silent together.
Will's first girlfriend (Yolanda, he was now convinced he had just fallen in love with the name) had brought them to the theme of old flames and lovers, and so to Odan. Beverly had always wanted to know what exactly Will remembered, how he had felt while he was host to the Trill, and afterwards. But she had been too shy, didn't think it would be appropriate, never found the moment... Now, the question came naturally. And so came the answer.
"Yes, I do."
----------------
"At first I didn't remember anything at all, as if I'd been in a coma all the time. And then I started having these weird - sensations. I would step into the turbolift and suddenly recall a conversation I had never had, or catch a sniff of something in Ten Forward and taste something I couldn't remember drinking ever before... what was that bubbly thing Odan used to drink?"
"Altairean champagne."
"Right. Yuck! I have always hated champagne, all of it, and now everything I drank tasted like it. And the same thing happened with food, everything I ate tasted like something completely different. I can tell you, I went through gastronomical hell for a couple of days."
"I see, so this is your revenge?" Beverly gestured to the dozen or so empty or half empty plates, bowls, cups and glasses that surrounded them.
He grinned. "Exactly."
Then the grin faded. He knew that was not why she had asked.
"And I remembered you, too."
"What did you remember?"
"Nothing definite. Like I said, snatches of conversations would pop into my mind out of nowhere, or certain gestures. The way you put on first your socks and then your trousers, for example."
"You saw me undressing?"
"No, I saw you getting dressed. And not all of it. Just the thing with the socks."
"Did it bother you?"
"Well... no, not really. It was disorienting at first, but it was easy to guess the cause, so I got used to it. And it didn't last long."
"So now you don't remember anymore?"
"I don't remember new things. But I haven't forgotten any of what I remembered then, either."
"Oh." She paused and looked at the floor thoughtfully. Will knew she wasn't finished and waited patiently.
Finally, she looked straight up at him. There were polite ways to talk around these kind of issues, but Beverly didn't want them or even need them. Not with Will. Not after a day like this.
"Do you remember making love to me?"
"I remember Odan making love to you."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm not sure I can explain it, Beverly. It's... it's like those phantom sensations they say you have in limbs that no longer exist - when you lose a hand or a leg, and still can feel it itching, although it's no longer there. It was Odan making love to you, not me - but I can remember how you looked, how it felt to touch you... It was something very special for him."
Will couldn't read Beverly's expression. After a while, he added: "He really loved you, Beverly. I can remember THAT, too. Just thinking about you made him happy."
When she still didn't speak, he said worriedly: "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Maybe I shouldn't have..."
Beverly leaned over and took his hand.
"Don't be sorry, Will. I wanted to know, and you told me. You know... I always suspected something like that, I couldn't believe you could go through a procedure like that and come away with no sequels. But having it confirmed now, knowing that you know..."
"I know. You didn't choose to share those memories with me. It's like having an uninvited guest you just can't get rid of, huh?"
"Well... I guess so. But you know what?" She smiled and laid her other hand on his cheek. "I'm glad the guest is you. Maybe you were not invited, but you're always welcome."
He gazed into her eyes, not sure of what she was implying. Ever since Odan (ok, even one or two times BEFORE Odan, but that was something completely different) he had had sexual thoughts about her occasionally, and felt terribly guilty. First, because he didn't want to take something from her she hadn't offered, and second (and he felt much worse about this part), because he wasn't really working very hard to prevent those thoughts from happening. He liked thinking about her, he liked those memories, and deep down he didn't care where they came from.
Was she telling him now that it was all right for him to have those feelings? That he was welcome to share the memories with her?
"Beverly..."
"Transporter room 1 to Commander Riker."
"What the-? I'm one shore leave, for Gods sake! Riker here, go ahead, Mr. O'Brian."
"Commander, I just wanted to let you know that the Captain just came on board and asked if you were on board yet."
"Did he say he wanted to see me?"
"Uh... no sir, I just thought you'd like to know."
"Well, now I know. Thank you Mr. O'Brian. Riker out."
Will turned to face Beverly. "What was that all about?"
Beverly stood up from the floor. "I think he wanted to warn you."
"Warn me?"
"Will, by now everyone on the Enterprise must know we spent the whole day locked up in your quarters. What do you think they think we're doing?"
"What does he think, that the Captain will barge in here and beat me up for dishonoring you?"
"Well, what do you think the Captain will do?"
"I think he won't believe some stupid rumor, and he will talk to me if he has a problem."
"You don't know Jean-Luc, Will. He will NOT talk to you, especially if he has a problem."
"Ok, then we won't talk. Anyway, what's there to talk about? It's none of his business. He's the one who cancelled on you to have a fling with Vash! Wait, where are you going?"
"I'm going to get dressed."
Will couldn't disguise the disappointment and frustration in his voice. "Oh, come on, Beverly..."
"Really, Will, I should leave now. It's late. I'll see you soon." And with that and a light kiss on his cheek, she was out of the room.
Chapter 4: One fine day
"Do you remember any of it?"
Will had been expecting the question, and yet it took him by surprise. Maybe that was the reason he answered spontaneously, or maybe it was because he hadn't been self-conscious and speaking freely without having to ask permission first for much longer than he was used to - one whole day.
"Yes, I do."
Beverly didn't urge him further on, but her look told him she wanted to know as much as he was ready to share. And, to his surprise, he found it would be easy to share it all (well, almost all) with her. They had shared so much already on this long, strange day...
---------------
Breakfast had lingered and turned into a very prolonged brunch, then into lunch and gradually into something like supper. Once the first few bites were hesitantly taken, they both discovered they were ravenously hungry, and the meal had turned first into a contest of who could come up with the best anti-hangover food, and then into a marathon of reminiscence, where they replicated in turns all kinds of meals that reminded them of their days at the academy, their youth, their childhood, their parents... All of a sudden, each new order to the replicator became a story, an adventure, a voyage to the past; with each new taste, one of them offered the other a piece of his or her life.
While Beverly chewed pancakes with maple syrup, Will talked about his mother, so golden and beautiful. He was very young when she left, but still it had broken apart his life. In a very low voice, almost a whisper, he said:
"It's not whole yet, you know? It still hurts so much..."
The kind of fierce and tender love she saw in his eyes sent shivers down Beverly's spine.
Then she had whispered her own secret recipe of cheesecake into the replicator, and told Will how it reminded her of her childhood summers, when she and her mother used to sit on the porch sharing a piece of cake, waiting for dad to come home. Years later, she and Wesley did the same, waiting for Jack, and Wesley would always finish his piece, although he hated cheesecake, because he knew this meant something special to her, and no other cake would do.
She missed him, and so she cried a little for him, and a little for Jack, and a little for herself, but it was ok. Will just smiled, as if it were perfectly natural for her to be sitting on the floor, sniffing into a cup of chocolate ice cream (he had replicated it because her mention of summer had brought to his mind his first girlfriend and first kiss, when he was twelve years old and spending a vacation with his grandparents in the country).
And it was. She was wearing one of his T-shirts (splattered with syrup and something that looked suspiciously like omelette) and no bra, her hair was just tied together loosely at the back of her neck... she had been the opposite of sophistication and feminine attractiveness all day - and she didn't care. Not once had she thought about her aspect. Or his.
They had rolled on the floor with laughter, they had cried, they had listened to sentimental songs and squealed in delight at the sheer shmaltzyness, or when they found out about a common favorite. For long minutes they had just been silent together.
Will's first girlfriend (Yolanda, he was now convinced he had just fallen in love with the name) had brought them to the theme of old flames and lovers, and so to Odan. Beverly had always wanted to know what exactly Will remembered, how he had felt while he was host to the Trill, and afterwards. But she had been too shy, didn't think it would be appropriate, never found the moment... Now, the question came naturally. And so came the answer.
"Yes, I do."
----------------
"At first I didn't remember anything at all, as if I'd been in a coma all the time. And then I started having these weird - sensations. I would step into the turbolift and suddenly recall a conversation I had never had, or catch a sniff of something in Ten Forward and taste something I couldn't remember drinking ever before... what was that bubbly thing Odan used to drink?"
"Altairean champagne."
"Right. Yuck! I have always hated champagne, all of it, and now everything I drank tasted like it. And the same thing happened with food, everything I ate tasted like something completely different. I can tell you, I went through gastronomical hell for a couple of days."
"I see, so this is your revenge?" Beverly gestured to the dozen or so empty or half empty plates, bowls, cups and glasses that surrounded them.
He grinned. "Exactly."
Then the grin faded. He knew that was not why she had asked.
"And I remembered you, too."
"What did you remember?"
"Nothing definite. Like I said, snatches of conversations would pop into my mind out of nowhere, or certain gestures. The way you put on first your socks and then your trousers, for example."
"You saw me undressing?"
"No, I saw you getting dressed. And not all of it. Just the thing with the socks."
"Did it bother you?"
"Well... no, not really. It was disorienting at first, but it was easy to guess the cause, so I got used to it. And it didn't last long."
"So now you don't remember anymore?"
"I don't remember new things. But I haven't forgotten any of what I remembered then, either."
"Oh." She paused and looked at the floor thoughtfully. Will knew she wasn't finished and waited patiently.
Finally, she looked straight up at him. There were polite ways to talk around these kind of issues, but Beverly didn't want them or even need them. Not with Will. Not after a day like this.
"Do you remember making love to me?"
"I remember Odan making love to you."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm not sure I can explain it, Beverly. It's... it's like those phantom sensations they say you have in limbs that no longer exist - when you lose a hand or a leg, and still can feel it itching, although it's no longer there. It was Odan making love to you, not me - but I can remember how you looked, how it felt to touch you... It was something very special for him."
Will couldn't read Beverly's expression. After a while, he added: "He really loved you, Beverly. I can remember THAT, too. Just thinking about you made him happy."
When she still didn't speak, he said worriedly: "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Maybe I shouldn't have..."
Beverly leaned over and took his hand.
"Don't be sorry, Will. I wanted to know, and you told me. You know... I always suspected something like that, I couldn't believe you could go through a procedure like that and come away with no sequels. But having it confirmed now, knowing that you know..."
"I know. You didn't choose to share those memories with me. It's like having an uninvited guest you just can't get rid of, huh?"
"Well... I guess so. But you know what?" She smiled and laid her other hand on his cheek. "I'm glad the guest is you. Maybe you were not invited, but you're always welcome."
He gazed into her eyes, not sure of what she was implying. Ever since Odan (ok, even one or two times BEFORE Odan, but that was something completely different) he had had sexual thoughts about her occasionally, and felt terribly guilty. First, because he didn't want to take something from her she hadn't offered, and second (and he felt much worse about this part), because he wasn't really working very hard to prevent those thoughts from happening. He liked thinking about her, he liked those memories, and deep down he didn't care where they came from.
Was she telling him now that it was all right for him to have those feelings? That he was welcome to share the memories with her?
"Beverly..."
"Transporter room 1 to Commander Riker."
"What the-? I'm one shore leave, for Gods sake! Riker here, go ahead, Mr. O'Brian."
"Commander, I just wanted to let you know that the Captain just came on board and asked if you were on board yet."
"Did he say he wanted to see me?"
"Uh... no sir, I just thought you'd like to know."
"Well, now I know. Thank you Mr. O'Brian. Riker out."
Will turned to face Beverly. "What was that all about?"
Beverly stood up from the floor. "I think he wanted to warn you."
"Warn me?"
"Will, by now everyone on the Enterprise must know we spent the whole day locked up in your quarters. What do you think they think we're doing?"
"What does he think, that the Captain will barge in here and beat me up for dishonoring you?"
"Well, what do you think the Captain will do?"
"I think he won't believe some stupid rumor, and he will talk to me if he has a problem."
"You don't know Jean-Luc, Will. He will NOT talk to you, especially if he has a problem."
"Ok, then we won't talk. Anyway, what's there to talk about? It's none of his business. He's the one who cancelled on you to have a fling with Vash! Wait, where are you going?"
"I'm going to get dressed."
Will couldn't disguise the disappointment and frustration in his voice. "Oh, come on, Beverly..."
"Really, Will, I should leave now. It's late. I'll see you soon." And with that and a light kiss on his cheek, she was out of the room.