Disclaimer- Never never have I ever felt so low, I just realised that I'll never own this show.
A/N- Thankies to everyone who reviewed. U R all so nice! =)
Special thanks to Simon and Sara for the note on my spelling. ^___^
I wasn't sure about it but I like the way it looks with an i'!
haha! :-)


Hope

You give us hope Lucas.


Commander Ford turned to face the captain's chair.
I beg your pardon sir? A look of puzzlement appeared on Bridger's face, to be quickly wiped away.
I thought I heard you say something. Ford shook his head.
No sir.
Bridger smiled.
Must be getting senile in my old age. Ford smiled in response and turned away again. Bridger allowed himself to slump slightly in his chair, his mind wondering away from his duties.
At almost the same time each day for about a week, he had been hearing a voice say,
You give us hope Lucas.
It was dim, like an echo and never occurred more than once a day. Each time he heard the voice, he had a flash of Lucas standing with a group of what looked like aliens. Once the voice faded, the image faded to, always leaving him confused. More than once, he had also been left with the feeling that there was more to see and hear.
Frustration began to curl around him but he pushed it away before it could take hold. If there really was something more than fatigue behind it, he was willing to wait to find the cause. Dragging his mind back to the bridge, he was surprised to see Dr. Westphalen starring at him, an impatient look on her face.
I'm sorry Dr. I was miles away.
That much was obvious. I was trying to find out if you were planning on taking your physical any time soon. As the CMO of the vessel I can order you to med- bay.
Bridger winced at the red- heads tone and missed the glint of amusement that flashed in her eye's.
I'm free tomorrow Captain. I expect to see you in med- bay at 11:30.
Bridger sighed as Westphalen turned on her heel and walked off the bridge.
He caught Ford's look of wry amusement and shook his head in mock desperation. Then he thought about what Westphalen had said. CMO. Chief Medical Officer. His thoughts turned back to the voice he had been hearing, If there was any- one he should or could tell, it was Westphalen. He settled back into his chair, and started to think about how he should phrase the explanation of his problem.

OK. Only the 2nd chapter. No need for flames just yet. Of course if you have nothing to better to do than try to set fire to me go ahead, but be warned, flames will be constituted as meaning you have no social life and will immediately be extinguished by my Dad's garden hose. Of course comments or ideas are always welcome as it constructive criticism (note the CONSTRUCTIVE) as that's the only was I'm ever going to improve =)