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Morning of the Magicians
Two
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"Doctor Crusher? Doctor Crusher?" Alyssa Powell rested a hand lightly on her boss' shoulder. Beverly jumped.
"I'm sorry Alyssa. Can I help you?" Crusher favored Powell with a dreamy half-smile.
"Are you feeling well, sir?" Alyssa's dark eyes were large with concern. This was not the first time in recent days that she'd found Crusher in this almost trance-like state.
"Yes, yes. Just a little preoccupied." The physician waved her hand in dismissal and gave another unsteady smile.
"I just wanted to let you know, Doctor, that Lieutenant Toledo is in for her pre-natal. I've done the initial exam but I wanted to have you sign off on it." Powell stepped back around the desk, still unsatisfied with Crusher's behavior.
Crusher stood, shaking herself mentally. "Thank you Alyssa. I'll be right in." She took the padd from Powell to review the initial work-up. She smiled until the young Lieutenant left her office. Turning from the door she ran a hand through her hair and let out a heavy sigh. It was becoming hard to deny, even to herself - she was becoming more and more distracted lately. She'd taken to entering what she could only consider very brief fugue states, with no idea upon recovering what had transpired in the prior minutes. So far she had not suffered an episode during anything significant, but she wondered if perhaps it were only a matter of time before she did. She resolved to speak with Deanna at the end of the day. After she'd conducted a discreet and thorough scan of her own.
Humming quietly to herself, she walked resolutely out of her office and into main sickbay.
*********
"Will, the day after tomorrow is the only time I've managed to get everyone together!" Crusher's tone was exasperated and she was on the verge of losing her temper, a fact not lost on a contrite looking Will Riker.
"Beverly I know. But that's the only night I could schedule all the department heads at once for the quarterly personnel review. Can we put it off just another nite?" Will gave her his best puppy dog eyes - it worked on damn near every woman he'd encountered, but it was always touch and go with Crusher.
"Will, Data's got a recital that evening." Crusher's tone and expression were deadly serious. "The Captain's birthday was two days ago. It is rather tricky explaining my absolute lack of any and all plans while maintaining any semblance of surprise. At this point we might as well throw him an un- birthday party."
Will only looked perplexed.
Crusher could not fight the amused smile that spread across her face. "Un- birthday. It's from an old story that Wesley loved as a child." She shook her finger at him, her countenance again serious. "You created this problem Commander, and you're going to fix it."
He came around her chair and put his hands on her shoulders. He leaned down and spoke softly. "I can't do it day after tomorrow, but I'll fix it with Data for the evening after that. I promise."
Crusher swiveled her chair and favored him with a skeptical glance. "I'm leaving this in your hands Will Riker. And if you screw it up, I won't be responsible for the consequences."
"Don't worry Doctor. I've got it all under control." Riker held his right hand up. "I swear."
Crusher stood and placed an arm around his shoulder as she guided him firmly out of her office. "I expect a briefing by 1300 hours tomorrow. Now scoot - I've got work to do."
Will chuckled and waved over his shoulder as he sauntered out of sickbay, headed for an early dinner in 10 Forward.
*********
Crusher sat in her office holding a tricorder and unhappily studying the results. She'd sent the duty nurse off for a late break. Luckily it had been a slow night, and Beverly had been able to steal away to a science lab for more comprehensive testing. Not that it had paid off. There were fluctuations in her brain chemistry, but nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing physiological, which left psychological. Crusher groaned and held her head in her hands. She and Deanna were great friends, but Beverly dreaded seeking Troi out for professional council when she herself was the subject. But she could not risk ignoring the problem further.
"Crusher to Troi." Beverly leaned back in her chair.
"Troi here. Can I help you, Beverly?" Deanna had not expected to hear from Crusher that evening. They were scheduled for lunch the following day.
"I need to speak with you Counsellor. Are you free this evening?" Crusher sounded as though she hoped the Betazoid were not. Troi read her frustration immediately.
"I'm scheduled until 2100 hours, but I'm free after that. How about my quarters?" As always Deanna's voice alone was calm and soothing.
"That's fine. I'll see you then." Crusher cut the transmission and stood. Her shift was over in an hour. It left her just enough time for dinner and a chance to relax before meeting with Troi. She intended to make the most of it. Perhaps she just hadn't been managing her stress well lately.
Humming softly she clicked off her terminal and waved to the doctor coming on duty as she left the office, lab flowing behind her.
*********
Troi crossed her quarters to rest next to Beverly on the couch, two steaming cups of cocoa in hand. "It's clear you've got something on your mind, Beverly. What's up?" Crusher appreciated Deanna's direct approach, even if she wasn't sure herself what was going on.
"Well." She took a sip of the warm beverage - another soothing touch from the counselor. "I suppose it started about two weeks ago."
Troi's dark, warm eyes urged her to continue.
"I've been distracted lately. I've felt restless. But I can't pinpoint the source." Crusher stood now and began to pace, demonstrating her point. "Then, about a week ago, I started losing track of time." Deanna's face was immediately concerned. "I know it sounds bad, but it was only in one or two minute intervals, and never while I was occupied with another task." She began fidgeting with her hands. "Then, yesterday, I was eating dinner in my quarters. One moment I was enjoying a hot bowl of soup, and the next thing I knew I was sitting across the room and the soup was cold." Crusher stood and paced again. "And today Nurse Powell found me in my office. I'd lost more than ten minutes."
Deanna motioned for Crusher to sit again, which she did. But she did not stop wringing her hands. Troi took them in her own and held them firmly. "Beverly, the first thing I need you to do is relax." Troi smiled encouragingly. Crusher felt reassured by her friend's touch and took a deep breath, willing her nerves to settle.
Sensing Beverly's attempt at regaining her resolve, Deanna urged her on. "Can you tell me anything more about how you feel when you enter or awaken from these episodes? Perhaps a thought, a feeling, or an impression?"
Crusher wracked her brain. Not that she hadn't been thinking about it nonstop for the past few days. "All I can say is that I never feel particularly upset afterward. I mean, I'm of course upset that I can't remember what happened. But even though I can't remember what happened, I'm not particularly affected by what happened during the time I can't remember." Crusher shook her head. "Does that make any sense?"
Troi smiled gently. "I think I know what you're getting at." She took a moment to evaluate the emotions coming from the turbulent redhead. They were certainly troubled. Deanna tried to go deeper, and looked up immediately, startled.
"Deanna? What is it?" Crusher had noticed the change in Troi's demeanor.
"It's you, Beverly. You're different." Troi looked at her intently, studying the Doctor's pale blue eyes, her own dark and disturbed. "You're the same on the surface, but when I try to go further, there's nothing."
"Nothing? Deanna, that can't be right." Crusher looked back, her jaw set and eyes certain.
"Beverly, I'm sure. I haven't noticed before because on the surface everything's fine. Quite normal. But under that, it's," Troi struggled with her words, "it's all sort of white."
"I don't know what to say. I don't feel any differently." Crusher unclipped her hair and rearranged it roughly, clipping it back up again. She reached over to the table and offered Deanna the padd she'd been studying earlier in her office. "Everything's within the norm."
Troi took it and looked it over perfunctorily. Neurology was not her specialty. But she knew what she felt, and Beverly was not right. She looked up and met Crusher's wilting gaze. "Beverly, I think we need to take this seriously."
Crusher had harbored a bad feeling about her meeting with Troi since she'd initiated it. Somehow she'd anticipated this outcome. She took a deep, shaky breath. "I agree, Counsellor. Now what's the next step?" Her tone became distant and reserved.
"I'd say we need to have another doctor run these tests again." Deanna looked at Crusher reprovingly. Beverly grinned sheepishly and nodded. "And tomorrow I'd like to begin working with you closely. Whatever's blocking me from your mind is likely the source of the problem."
"It's certainly the most reasonable explanation." Beverly sighed. "I guess I could use a couple of days off."
Deanna smiled and squeezed her hand. "We'll figure it out, Beverly."
Crusher smiled back, but her expression was strained. "And, on an unrelated note, Will Riker paid me a visit today."
Troi laughed. "I got your note about rescheduling the Captain's dinner. I can't believe you let him talk you into it."
"It wasn't easy. Lucky for him I've been feeling off the mark. I didn't have the energy for a real Howard display." Crusher chuckled. "I swear Jean- Luc's next birthday will roll around before I even get this dinner off the ground."
"Even if it is late, the Captain will understand, and he'll be flattered." Deanna took up her hot chocolate and enjoyed a long sip. It was easy to see how much Picard and Crusher cared for each other. He'd fretted almost as much about her last birthday.
"Well, he'd never admit it, but he does enjoy the attention." Beverly winked and Deanna giggled. She stopped however, when the Doctor's expression changed. Troi could almost see the wheels turning inside her head. "Deanna, there's something else."
"What is it Beverly?" Deanna searched her face.
"There's a song that keeps popping into my head. It's very old, from earth. I recognize it, but all I can remember are the first two bars." She paused, visibly searching her mind for more. "I don't know the name of it. I think it might be Bach, maybe Handel but I'm not sure." She smiled ruefully. "Ancient music is not my forte."
Deanna considered the new information. "Beverly, can you remember when you started hearing the song?"
"It's been on and off for the last weeks, but in the past few days I haven't been able to get it out of my head. Do you think it's related?" Crusher looked hopeful.
"I'm not sure. It may be - or, it might just be your own defensive reaction to whatever's happening." She paused and put a caring hand to the physician's shoulder. "Beverly, go home. Get a good night's sleep. We'll consider it all in the morning."
Crusher stood and again smiled thinly, her lips pressed. She squeezed Deanna's hand and left silently. The Counselor frowned at the cloud of dark emotions that surrounded the tall redhead.
*********
Crusher tossed her lab coat on a nearby chair and made a beeline for her bedroom. She was exhausted. She sat on her bed and stripped off her boots. Without even removing the rest of her uniform she reclined onto the bed.......
"It's your birthday, Jean-Luc. Indulge a little bit - who knows when you'll get the chance again." Beverly Crusher gave Jean-Luc Picard a wink and an impish grin as she leaned forward to kiss him chastely on the jaw. Her thick red hair fell toward him as she did so, silken curled locks gently brushing Picard's face.........
She could still hear the wail of Riker's trombone as the unavoidable 'happy birthday' dirge evolved into a festive ragtime number. Crusher had been planning a celebratory dinner for Picard's birthday the past week, but duty had prevented them all from getting together until this evening........
His eyes twinkled in surprise. She smiled easily, beautifully, her features lighting up. "We're out of wine. Could you find us something suitable from the reserve?" She inclined her head toward the bedroom, where she knew he kept his best bottles.........
Still preoccupied with the cake, Beverly did not notice that the tune she was humming did not match the music playing in the Captain's quarters. It was one that had haunted her waking and sleeping for weeks, the first few bars repeating over and over in her head........
She then felt Picard tense against her and responded instantly. Her first strike was lethal........
.......the knife slid at a murderously artful angle between his ribs and through his lung, penetrating and mortally damaging his artificial heart. His expression was pained, shocked, confused.........
She had seen life steal away from a person before, but had always been too distracted by efforts to bring it back to every truly savor and understand the moment. She waited patiently until she saw the very last of the light flicker out of his eyes. She stepped back and watched as he slid down the wall and crumpled on the floor. He did not move..........
*********
Morning of the Magicians
Two
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"Doctor Crusher? Doctor Crusher?" Alyssa Powell rested a hand lightly on her boss' shoulder. Beverly jumped.
"I'm sorry Alyssa. Can I help you?" Crusher favored Powell with a dreamy half-smile.
"Are you feeling well, sir?" Alyssa's dark eyes were large with concern. This was not the first time in recent days that she'd found Crusher in this almost trance-like state.
"Yes, yes. Just a little preoccupied." The physician waved her hand in dismissal and gave another unsteady smile.
"I just wanted to let you know, Doctor, that Lieutenant Toledo is in for her pre-natal. I've done the initial exam but I wanted to have you sign off on it." Powell stepped back around the desk, still unsatisfied with Crusher's behavior.
Crusher stood, shaking herself mentally. "Thank you Alyssa. I'll be right in." She took the padd from Powell to review the initial work-up. She smiled until the young Lieutenant left her office. Turning from the door she ran a hand through her hair and let out a heavy sigh. It was becoming hard to deny, even to herself - she was becoming more and more distracted lately. She'd taken to entering what she could only consider very brief fugue states, with no idea upon recovering what had transpired in the prior minutes. So far she had not suffered an episode during anything significant, but she wondered if perhaps it were only a matter of time before she did. She resolved to speak with Deanna at the end of the day. After she'd conducted a discreet and thorough scan of her own.
Humming quietly to herself, she walked resolutely out of her office and into main sickbay.
*********
"Will, the day after tomorrow is the only time I've managed to get everyone together!" Crusher's tone was exasperated and she was on the verge of losing her temper, a fact not lost on a contrite looking Will Riker.
"Beverly I know. But that's the only night I could schedule all the department heads at once for the quarterly personnel review. Can we put it off just another nite?" Will gave her his best puppy dog eyes - it worked on damn near every woman he'd encountered, but it was always touch and go with Crusher.
"Will, Data's got a recital that evening." Crusher's tone and expression were deadly serious. "The Captain's birthday was two days ago. It is rather tricky explaining my absolute lack of any and all plans while maintaining any semblance of surprise. At this point we might as well throw him an un- birthday party."
Will only looked perplexed.
Crusher could not fight the amused smile that spread across her face. "Un- birthday. It's from an old story that Wesley loved as a child." She shook her finger at him, her countenance again serious. "You created this problem Commander, and you're going to fix it."
He came around her chair and put his hands on her shoulders. He leaned down and spoke softly. "I can't do it day after tomorrow, but I'll fix it with Data for the evening after that. I promise."
Crusher swiveled her chair and favored him with a skeptical glance. "I'm leaving this in your hands Will Riker. And if you screw it up, I won't be responsible for the consequences."
"Don't worry Doctor. I've got it all under control." Riker held his right hand up. "I swear."
Crusher stood and placed an arm around his shoulder as she guided him firmly out of her office. "I expect a briefing by 1300 hours tomorrow. Now scoot - I've got work to do."
Will chuckled and waved over his shoulder as he sauntered out of sickbay, headed for an early dinner in 10 Forward.
*********
Crusher sat in her office holding a tricorder and unhappily studying the results. She'd sent the duty nurse off for a late break. Luckily it had been a slow night, and Beverly had been able to steal away to a science lab for more comprehensive testing. Not that it had paid off. There were fluctuations in her brain chemistry, but nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing physiological, which left psychological. Crusher groaned and held her head in her hands. She and Deanna were great friends, but Beverly dreaded seeking Troi out for professional council when she herself was the subject. But she could not risk ignoring the problem further.
"Crusher to Troi." Beverly leaned back in her chair.
"Troi here. Can I help you, Beverly?" Deanna had not expected to hear from Crusher that evening. They were scheduled for lunch the following day.
"I need to speak with you Counsellor. Are you free this evening?" Crusher sounded as though she hoped the Betazoid were not. Troi read her frustration immediately.
"I'm scheduled until 2100 hours, but I'm free after that. How about my quarters?" As always Deanna's voice alone was calm and soothing.
"That's fine. I'll see you then." Crusher cut the transmission and stood. Her shift was over in an hour. It left her just enough time for dinner and a chance to relax before meeting with Troi. She intended to make the most of it. Perhaps she just hadn't been managing her stress well lately.
Humming softly she clicked off her terminal and waved to the doctor coming on duty as she left the office, lab flowing behind her.
*********
Troi crossed her quarters to rest next to Beverly on the couch, two steaming cups of cocoa in hand. "It's clear you've got something on your mind, Beverly. What's up?" Crusher appreciated Deanna's direct approach, even if she wasn't sure herself what was going on.
"Well." She took a sip of the warm beverage - another soothing touch from the counselor. "I suppose it started about two weeks ago."
Troi's dark, warm eyes urged her to continue.
"I've been distracted lately. I've felt restless. But I can't pinpoint the source." Crusher stood now and began to pace, demonstrating her point. "Then, about a week ago, I started losing track of time." Deanna's face was immediately concerned. "I know it sounds bad, but it was only in one or two minute intervals, and never while I was occupied with another task." She began fidgeting with her hands. "Then, yesterday, I was eating dinner in my quarters. One moment I was enjoying a hot bowl of soup, and the next thing I knew I was sitting across the room and the soup was cold." Crusher stood and paced again. "And today Nurse Powell found me in my office. I'd lost more than ten minutes."
Deanna motioned for Crusher to sit again, which she did. But she did not stop wringing her hands. Troi took them in her own and held them firmly. "Beverly, the first thing I need you to do is relax." Troi smiled encouragingly. Crusher felt reassured by her friend's touch and took a deep breath, willing her nerves to settle.
Sensing Beverly's attempt at regaining her resolve, Deanna urged her on. "Can you tell me anything more about how you feel when you enter or awaken from these episodes? Perhaps a thought, a feeling, or an impression?"
Crusher wracked her brain. Not that she hadn't been thinking about it nonstop for the past few days. "All I can say is that I never feel particularly upset afterward. I mean, I'm of course upset that I can't remember what happened. But even though I can't remember what happened, I'm not particularly affected by what happened during the time I can't remember." Crusher shook her head. "Does that make any sense?"
Troi smiled gently. "I think I know what you're getting at." She took a moment to evaluate the emotions coming from the turbulent redhead. They were certainly troubled. Deanna tried to go deeper, and looked up immediately, startled.
"Deanna? What is it?" Crusher had noticed the change in Troi's demeanor.
"It's you, Beverly. You're different." Troi looked at her intently, studying the Doctor's pale blue eyes, her own dark and disturbed. "You're the same on the surface, but when I try to go further, there's nothing."
"Nothing? Deanna, that can't be right." Crusher looked back, her jaw set and eyes certain.
"Beverly, I'm sure. I haven't noticed before because on the surface everything's fine. Quite normal. But under that, it's," Troi struggled with her words, "it's all sort of white."
"I don't know what to say. I don't feel any differently." Crusher unclipped her hair and rearranged it roughly, clipping it back up again. She reached over to the table and offered Deanna the padd she'd been studying earlier in her office. "Everything's within the norm."
Troi took it and looked it over perfunctorily. Neurology was not her specialty. But she knew what she felt, and Beverly was not right. She looked up and met Crusher's wilting gaze. "Beverly, I think we need to take this seriously."
Crusher had harbored a bad feeling about her meeting with Troi since she'd initiated it. Somehow she'd anticipated this outcome. She took a deep, shaky breath. "I agree, Counsellor. Now what's the next step?" Her tone became distant and reserved.
"I'd say we need to have another doctor run these tests again." Deanna looked at Crusher reprovingly. Beverly grinned sheepishly and nodded. "And tomorrow I'd like to begin working with you closely. Whatever's blocking me from your mind is likely the source of the problem."
"It's certainly the most reasonable explanation." Beverly sighed. "I guess I could use a couple of days off."
Deanna smiled and squeezed her hand. "We'll figure it out, Beverly."
Crusher smiled back, but her expression was strained. "And, on an unrelated note, Will Riker paid me a visit today."
Troi laughed. "I got your note about rescheduling the Captain's dinner. I can't believe you let him talk you into it."
"It wasn't easy. Lucky for him I've been feeling off the mark. I didn't have the energy for a real Howard display." Crusher chuckled. "I swear Jean- Luc's next birthday will roll around before I even get this dinner off the ground."
"Even if it is late, the Captain will understand, and he'll be flattered." Deanna took up her hot chocolate and enjoyed a long sip. It was easy to see how much Picard and Crusher cared for each other. He'd fretted almost as much about her last birthday.
"Well, he'd never admit it, but he does enjoy the attention." Beverly winked and Deanna giggled. She stopped however, when the Doctor's expression changed. Troi could almost see the wheels turning inside her head. "Deanna, there's something else."
"What is it Beverly?" Deanna searched her face.
"There's a song that keeps popping into my head. It's very old, from earth. I recognize it, but all I can remember are the first two bars." She paused, visibly searching her mind for more. "I don't know the name of it. I think it might be Bach, maybe Handel but I'm not sure." She smiled ruefully. "Ancient music is not my forte."
Deanna considered the new information. "Beverly, can you remember when you started hearing the song?"
"It's been on and off for the last weeks, but in the past few days I haven't been able to get it out of my head. Do you think it's related?" Crusher looked hopeful.
"I'm not sure. It may be - or, it might just be your own defensive reaction to whatever's happening." She paused and put a caring hand to the physician's shoulder. "Beverly, go home. Get a good night's sleep. We'll consider it all in the morning."
Crusher stood and again smiled thinly, her lips pressed. She squeezed Deanna's hand and left silently. The Counselor frowned at the cloud of dark emotions that surrounded the tall redhead.
*********
Crusher tossed her lab coat on a nearby chair and made a beeline for her bedroom. She was exhausted. She sat on her bed and stripped off her boots. Without even removing the rest of her uniform she reclined onto the bed.......
"It's your birthday, Jean-Luc. Indulge a little bit - who knows when you'll get the chance again." Beverly Crusher gave Jean-Luc Picard a wink and an impish grin as she leaned forward to kiss him chastely on the jaw. Her thick red hair fell toward him as she did so, silken curled locks gently brushing Picard's face.........
She could still hear the wail of Riker's trombone as the unavoidable 'happy birthday' dirge evolved into a festive ragtime number. Crusher had been planning a celebratory dinner for Picard's birthday the past week, but duty had prevented them all from getting together until this evening........
His eyes twinkled in surprise. She smiled easily, beautifully, her features lighting up. "We're out of wine. Could you find us something suitable from the reserve?" She inclined her head toward the bedroom, where she knew he kept his best bottles.........
Still preoccupied with the cake, Beverly did not notice that the tune she was humming did not match the music playing in the Captain's quarters. It was one that had haunted her waking and sleeping for weeks, the first few bars repeating over and over in her head........
She then felt Picard tense against her and responded instantly. Her first strike was lethal........
.......the knife slid at a murderously artful angle between his ribs and through his lung, penetrating and mortally damaging his artificial heart. His expression was pained, shocked, confused.........
She had seen life steal away from a person before, but had always been too distracted by efforts to bring it back to every truly savor and understand the moment. She waited patiently until she saw the very last of the light flicker out of his eyes. She stepped back and watched as he slid down the wall and crumpled on the floor. He did not move..........
*********