*********
Morning of the Magicians
Three
*********
Beverly started at the sound of her door chime. She moaned groggily and looked over to the chronometer. She'd overslept. It must be Picard at her door. "Just a minute." She sat up and looked down at the wrinkled uniform she was still wearing. She must have been more tired than she had realized. "Come in, Jean-Luc." She stood and stretched extensively. As far as she could tell she had not moved all night, and was very stiff.
She looked up and saw Picard standing uncertainly in her doorway. Ever the gentleman. It did not matter how frequently he visited her quarters - he never came more than a step over the threshold without an invitation.
He took in her disheveled appearance with concern. "Beverly, are you quite all right?"
She smiled wryly. "I've been better. Please - sit down." She motioned to a chair at the dining table. "Coffee and croissant?" She was already gliding toward the replicator, her bare feet padding elegantly across the carpet.
He sat down and continued to follow her with his eyes. It was not like Beverly to be so thoroughly rumpled. "Thank you, that would be fine."
She returned to the table with two steaming mugs and two fresh croissants. She set them at their respective places and kept walking into the bedroom. She spoke over her shoulder. "Make yourself at home, Jean-Luc, I'll just be a minute."
He'd clearly woken her and felt a tad uncomfortable. He shifted in his chair, crossed his legs, and took a sip of coffee. He turned his attention to the croissant. He was halfway through it when Beverly returned. She was not, as he expected, in a fresh uniform but instead in a long, creamy silk robe. Her eyes were still sleepy from the previous night, and her red hair disheveled. It presented an appealing picture. He cleared his throat and shifted again in the chair.
Beverly could see the affect she'd had on Picard, but in all honesty had not been thinking about it when she'd changed - only that the old uniform had been insanely uncomfortable and that she wasn't scheduled to report for duty that morning. She couldn't help giving him a jab. "Is the croissant too dry, Jean-Luc? I can get you another." She leaned forward to grab his plate, her hand brushing his.
He practically jumped and Crusher had to stifle her laughter. It could be ridiculously easy to push his buttons. She would not if she didn't know how much he enjoyed it. There weren't many on the ship who would even risk trying, but she'd learned some twenty years ago while she and Jack had been pals with Jean-Luc and Walker Keel that Picard's sense of humor was as well developed as any. Suddenly she realized her thoughts had been drifting and that her hand was still over Jean-Luc's. Now the shoe was on the other foot and she blushed slightly as she pulled back.
"My croissant is fine, Doctor. But I have a very strong feeling that you are not." Picard spoke sternly and eyed her over the rim of his coffee cup.
Beverly held her own cup in both hands, thumbs running nervously over the glass. The fact that she'd drifted off over breakfast bothered her. Now that she had time to consider it, the night before bothered her as well. There really was no reason for her to have practically passed out in her clothes. She'd been tired, but her schedule over the past days had been anything but hectic. She gazed silently into Picard's eyes for a moment before she spoke. It would be useless to prevaricate or delay - he'd find out the truth in any case.
"I spoke with Deanna last night, in a professional capacity." She could see concern flash in the Captain's expression before his face again became impassive. "I'm taking a couple days of medical leave. I've been losing track of time lately, and Deanna's concerned about some of the things she's picking up from me." Her tone was casual and she tried to minimize the significance of the situation. Frankly she was a bit embarrassed. She was glad for his naturally taciturn nature - she knew he would not press her for more information than she was comfortable giving.
His body language opened up to her and he offered her his hand in friendship. She took it and squeezed it firmly before sitting back. While she did not want to admit her weakness to him, she found his presence comforting.
"Beverly, please keep me apprised on your condition." His eyes flashed concern. "Is there anything I can do?" His voice was friendly and warm.
She shook her head in the negative. "But thank you." She smiled. "I have an appointment with Counsellor Troi this morning. I've run a medical scan, which showed nothing out of the norm. We're hoping to find the cause elsewhere."
Nodding, he stood and tugged at his uniform. "Well. It's time for one of us to report for duty." He walked forward and placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure it will turn out." He smiled reassuringly, an expression she or anyone on the ship was rarely privileged to see. He was a man of few words, but said nothing without meaning. She placed her own hand over his. As usual, neither was willing to pull away quickly enough to prevent a shift in the tenor of the touch. Crusher and Picard felt their heartbeats speed up, both recognizing that they had again accidentally fallen into one of those particular moments when anything might transpire between them. For what seemed an eternity they simply stared into each other's eyes. The air in Beverly's quarters seemed to pop and crackle. Finally, the door chimed. Both sighed in relief, but their eye contact did not waver.
Beverly rose. "That would be Deanna."
Picard cleared his throat. "Yes. Well."
Crusher smiled and traced his jaw with her hand before stepping away from him and walking toward the door. She pressed the panel and Troi stood before them. Picard nodded to her as he walked past and out.
Deanna smiled. "Captain." She turned her head as he made his way down the corridor and to the lift. She then turned her attention to Beverly, who was clearing the dishes.
"Can I get you anything, Deanna?" Her voice was thick with emotion.
"No, thank you, Will and I met in 10 Forward for breakfast earlier." Troi recognized that she'd interrupted something between the two officers. She was hardly uncomfortable - this certainly wasn't the first time she'd been aware of the Captain's presence in Beverly's quarters long before she stepped off the lift. Her concern for the Doctor increased however, as Troi realized she'd felt nothing from Beverly as she stood outside the cabin. Usually her impressions from both were especially strong when they shared breakfast. She'd received nothing from Crusher but the usual human background noise.
"How are you feeling this morning?" Troi stepped forward and stood in the middle of the room.
"A little out of sorts, but I overslept." Beverly finished her task and walked over to the sofa. She motioned for Deanna to join her.
"How have you been sleeping lately?" Troi inclined her head.
"Right to the point, then." Crusher arched her brow. "Fine. Actually, I've been sleeping exceedingly well." Crusher's tone changed to one of revelation as she pondered the subject further. "I'm usually woken on occasion by vivid dreams from my youth, or by bouts of insomnia. But this month I've had neither."
Troi leaned back and continued her questions. "Can you remember any dreams you've had in the past month?"
Crusher reflected. "No. I don't think I can." The Doctor's brow knit in concentration. She looked over at Troi. "Do you think that's significant?"
Troi looked noncommittal. "It may be, but we can't be sure yet. I'd like you to think more about how you feel after you realized you've lost some period of time."
Crusher sat back and crossed her arms, her look introspective. "It's always disconcerting." She paused. "But aside from that, I feel very calm."
Troi considered further, beginning to form an opinion. "Beverly, I'd like to go to sickbay and have Doctor Selar re-run the neurological scans you did last night." She doubted that Beverly would intentionally forge her own tests, but it was possible that she had unconsciously affected them.
Crusher shrugged. "Let me change and we'll go." She stood and paused briefly before turning and heading into the bedroom.
Troi walked over to the replicator for a cup of tea and settled into the sofa. She heard the shower turn on and off, and Crusher step back into the bedroom. She became concerned a few minutes later however, when she ceased to hear any sounds coming from Beverly's room. She opened her mind slightly, and was horrified at the sense of confusion that greeted her. She jumped up and headed to the bulkhead door. "Beverly?" She received no response. "Beverly?" Again, nothing.
She pressed the panel and the door slid open to reveal Crusher sitting on the bed, blue eyes wide open and unfocused. She rushed to her side and touched her shoulder gently. "Beverly?"
Crusher started and looked up. "It happened again, didn't it?" She seemed forlorn. The same few bars of the mysterious melody floated through her mind. "Deanna, can you hear the music?"
Deanna seemed to focus, concentrating on the emotions she received from Crusher. Her face slacked and she spoke softly. "It's very faint, and I can't really make it out. It's more of an impression of music, but yes, I can hear something." She met Crusher's gaze and smiled reassuringly. "Let's get you in to sickbay."
Crusher pursed her lips and stood, arms crossed. She favored Deanna with a tight smile before heading into the corridor.
*********
Hours later Crusher and Troi stood outside Beverly's quarters. The medical scans had again proved inconclusive, but Troi was beginning to feel more and more strongly that Crusher had been subject to post-hypnotic suggestion. She'd told her as much, but Beverly was having trouble believing it.
"I can't see how that's possible, Deanna, but I can't offer another explanation. What do we do now?" Crusher turned and pressed the panel. The doors to her cabin swished open. She strolled through and flopped on the couch, thoroughly frustrated.
"I think we've done enough for today." Deanna easily read the Doctor's mood. "Tomorrow morning I'd like to try putting you under hypnosis for a short period of time. I do feel that the music you're hearing is somehow related. But I can't say if it's part of the program, or your reaction to it."
Beverly laughed. "Program? You make me sound like Data."
Troi grinned. "It's not exactly the same." She uncrossed her arms and walked over to sit next to the Doctor. "Beverly, I'm worried about leaving you alone tonite. I'd suggest having you stay in sickbay for observation," Crusher shot her a wicked frown, "but I have the feeling it would only add to your stress level."
Beverly laid a hand on Deanna's shoulder. "I've made it this far."
Troi looked skeptical. "All the same, I'd prefer if you had some company. Would you mind if I asked Data to stop in and check on you periodically?"
Crusher looked back, unconvinced. "If the alternative is being confined to my own sickbay, I don't see what choice I have." Her tone was dry.
Troi smiled again and rose. "Try to get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."
Beverly stood and walked slowly to the replicator, where she ordered a cup of earl grey. She walked into the bedroom and changed for the evening. Humming softly to herself, she began trimming her orchids.
*********
She awoke in the morning and greeted Data who was sitting eerily unoccupied on the couch.
"Good morning, Data."
"Good morning Doctor. How did you sleep?" Data rose and inclined his head.
"Very well, thank you." She stretched languidly on her way to grab a cup of tea. She felt genuinely refreshed. She ran a hand through her hair to pull a few loose strands from her face. She stood in front of the android, sipping daintily at her tea, saucer in hand. "How long are you babysitting me?"
Data responded only with a puzzled look and familiar tilt to his head.
Beverly smiled. "How long has Deanna asked you to look after me?"
"Ah. The Counselor asked me to make sure you made it safely to her office this morning."
Beverly smiled smugly. "My own personal leash."
Data stood stiffly, nonplussed. Beverly brushed his shoulder as she walked by. "Thank you, Data."
"Of course, Doctor." He always found Doctor Crusher to be most perplexing.
Crusher re-emerged momentarily. "Well then. I've got an appointment, and it appears I'm going to keep it." She hooked her arm in his and headed toward the door.
*********
Crusher stared absently into space, perched on the edge of Troi's sofa. She sat silently, her hands clasped neatly in her lap. "I don't know." She hummed quietly to herself.
Troi flopped back in her own chair. She'd been working with Crusher for an hour with no results. She'd been able to coax the anxious woman into a hypnotic state, but had gotten little further. The only thing she was certain of was that someone had been there ahead of her. She could learn no more without more invasive methods, and she did not feel comfortable proceeding without consulting the Doctor. Slowly she brought Beverly back to a fully conscious state.
Crusher's eyes focused and met Deanna's. "Well?" Her expression was hopeful, almost desperate.
Troi's face was full of compassion. "These things take time, Beverly."
Crusher exhaled through pursed lips. "You struck out."
Deanna smiled softly. "On the contrary, I've learned two things."
"I'm all ears." The redhead arched her brow and crossed her arms. She was growing increasingly frustrated.
"The first is that I am positive someone has, at some point, altered your consciousness. I'm not sure how, why, or what they did. But something is preventing me from getting through to you." She knit her brow.
Crusher matched her frown. "Hardly encouraging. What other gems have you got for me?"
Troi shook her head. "Whatever song that is, I'll be hearing it for a while too. You were repeating it to yourself continuously. But I can't determine if it's part of the program, or your own defense against it."
Beverly stood and paced anxiously. "Then we're back to square one."
"We're making progress, Beverly. Give yourself some time." Deanna's tone was gentle but firm, and encouraging.
Crusher threw her hands in the air. "We have no idea what's going on here, Deanna. What if I don't have time?" Her eyes blazed intensely and she waited for a response from Troi. She received none. The Betazoid only gazed back compassionately.
*********
"It's your birthday, Jean-Luc. Indulge a little bit - who knows when you'll get the chance again."
He smiled bashfully. "I suppose you're right." He gazed at her willowy form, wistfully thinking of birthdays past and indulgences he had not allowed himself.
She stalked purposefully back into the dimmed living area and her eyes met Picard's instantly.
"We're out of wine. Could you find us something suitable from the reserve?"
Returning to her task, she jumped and started, almost reeling as starlight from the nearby portal filtered in and brightly flashed on the cake knife she held. Suddenly the rest of the melody came rushing into her head. It was loud, almost overwhelming.
She turned toward Picard and clutched the knife tightly at her side, still humming quietly.
Arms still behind her Crusher moved assertively against him, pinning Picard against the wall. Violins, harps and cellos echoed in her mind, repeating the primary chorus of the song ceaselessly. It was beautiful, haunting, tragic and commanding - and it was everywhere. She searched Picard's eyes intently, but could not find what she needed there.
She then felt Picard tense against her and responded instantly. Her first strike was lethal. She knew his body inside and out, every square inch.
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.
*********
Crusher started and looked down at her dinner. The previously steaming bowl of pasta stared back listlessly. She threw down her fork and it clanged on the table. "Damn." She stood and took the cold plate over to the recycler. She no longer felt hungry. Deanna had reluctantly allowed her back to her quarters alone, with the promise she would allow Data to check in on her periodically. He'd come and gone before she sat down to eat. She wondered when he'd be back. She stalked through her quarters. This was driving her mad. She laughed at the irony. Going crazy was driving her nuts.
Her door chirruped. "Thank God. Come in, please."
Will Riker stuck his head through the door. "How's the patient?"
Crusher shot him a nasty glance. "Tell me only the senior staff knows about this."
"My lips are sealed. I thought you could use some company." He walked in slowly.
She smiled genuinely. "Well, you were right." She sat down and eyed him warily. "Last we talked you'd made me a promise."
Will flipped a chair around and sat facing her. He placed his hand over his heart. "And I would not dream of breaking it." His eyes twinkled. "It's all set for tomorrow night."
Crusher's face was smug. "Let's just hope I'm around to enjoy it." She fixed her stare on one of her orchids.
Will rose and pulled down his uniform. "How long have you been cooped up in here?" He glanced around disapprovingly. "Come have dinner with me."
"Do I have permission for this little field trip?" Crusher's tone was wry and her arms crossed.
Riker flashed a grin and a row of white teeth. "If you don't tell, I won't either."
A glimmer of a smile appeared on Crusher's face as she rose from the couch and grabbed a sweater. "Then lead the way."
*********
Crusher and Riker sat at a table in 10 Forward. Will ate with gusto, and Beverly was only slightly more subdued. She had the feeling of waking and not quite shaking the dream from the night before. The tune ran continuously through her mind now, a subtle soundtrack to her life. She was becoming deathly afraid of being alone. Worry lines were etched around her eyes. Riker couldn't help but notice and was doing his level best to entertain her. Crusher had to admit it was hard to stay melancholy when the Enterprise's irrepressible first officer turned the charm all the way up.
She chuckled as he concluded a raucous and bawdy story. Usually it would have people falling out of their seats. Beverly sensed his disappointment. She didn't want to bruise Will's ego. "Commander, thank you." She met his merry blue eyes. "Will, I really appreciate you doing this for me."
"Beverly, whatever it is, I'm sure you and Deanna will figure it out." He took a long drink of ale. "Now." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Tell me about this birthday party."
For the first time that night Riker saw a genuine smile spread across Crusher's face and light up her eyes. "I think he's actually going to be surprised."
"Is that wise?" Riker's brow arched.
Now Beverly leaned in. "I'll let you in on a little secret." She crooked her finger and Riker leaned even closer. "He'll be thrilled. But don't let on you know. He likes to keep up appearances."
Riker laughed and Beverly joined him. It felt good, and she finally felt relaxed. Hypnosis or no, she was looking forward to tomorrow night. She sat back and tossed her napkin on the table.
A waiter floated by and cleared the table. "Anything else, sirs?"
Beverly shook her head and Will waved him on. Crusher noticed Alyssa and Tom Powell in a corner. The young nurse stole a glance her way every so often. She was clearly concerned. Beverly rose. "I'll be right back."
Riker saw her glide over to the table and speak briefly with the woman. She touched her several times on the shoulder, and after exchanging pleasantries with her husband walked back over to the table. Will stood to meet her. "Everything all right?"
"Alyssa wanted to know when she gets her extended vacation." Crusher shook her head as she and Riker walked out of the lounge.
After another wild story and a short turbo lift ride they'd returned to her cabin. She stood outside apprehensively. She dreaded facing the rest of the evening alone.
Riker sensed her unease and placed a hand on her elbow and spoke softly. "It'll work out."
She smiled crookedly. "Thanks Will. For everything."
He tugged his uniform. "It's the least I can do for a friend."
She smiled again and turned toward the door. The panels swished open. She walked in slowly. Riker nodded a final good night and headed back toward the lift.
The doors closed behind her and she surveyed her cabin. She sighed heavily. "Here goes nothing."
*********
Morning of the Magicians
Three
*********
Beverly started at the sound of her door chime. She moaned groggily and looked over to the chronometer. She'd overslept. It must be Picard at her door. "Just a minute." She sat up and looked down at the wrinkled uniform she was still wearing. She must have been more tired than she had realized. "Come in, Jean-Luc." She stood and stretched extensively. As far as she could tell she had not moved all night, and was very stiff.
She looked up and saw Picard standing uncertainly in her doorway. Ever the gentleman. It did not matter how frequently he visited her quarters - he never came more than a step over the threshold without an invitation.
He took in her disheveled appearance with concern. "Beverly, are you quite all right?"
She smiled wryly. "I've been better. Please - sit down." She motioned to a chair at the dining table. "Coffee and croissant?" She was already gliding toward the replicator, her bare feet padding elegantly across the carpet.
He sat down and continued to follow her with his eyes. It was not like Beverly to be so thoroughly rumpled. "Thank you, that would be fine."
She returned to the table with two steaming mugs and two fresh croissants. She set them at their respective places and kept walking into the bedroom. She spoke over her shoulder. "Make yourself at home, Jean-Luc, I'll just be a minute."
He'd clearly woken her and felt a tad uncomfortable. He shifted in his chair, crossed his legs, and took a sip of coffee. He turned his attention to the croissant. He was halfway through it when Beverly returned. She was not, as he expected, in a fresh uniform but instead in a long, creamy silk robe. Her eyes were still sleepy from the previous night, and her red hair disheveled. It presented an appealing picture. He cleared his throat and shifted again in the chair.
Beverly could see the affect she'd had on Picard, but in all honesty had not been thinking about it when she'd changed - only that the old uniform had been insanely uncomfortable and that she wasn't scheduled to report for duty that morning. She couldn't help giving him a jab. "Is the croissant too dry, Jean-Luc? I can get you another." She leaned forward to grab his plate, her hand brushing his.
He practically jumped and Crusher had to stifle her laughter. It could be ridiculously easy to push his buttons. She would not if she didn't know how much he enjoyed it. There weren't many on the ship who would even risk trying, but she'd learned some twenty years ago while she and Jack had been pals with Jean-Luc and Walker Keel that Picard's sense of humor was as well developed as any. Suddenly she realized her thoughts had been drifting and that her hand was still over Jean-Luc's. Now the shoe was on the other foot and she blushed slightly as she pulled back.
"My croissant is fine, Doctor. But I have a very strong feeling that you are not." Picard spoke sternly and eyed her over the rim of his coffee cup.
Beverly held her own cup in both hands, thumbs running nervously over the glass. The fact that she'd drifted off over breakfast bothered her. Now that she had time to consider it, the night before bothered her as well. There really was no reason for her to have practically passed out in her clothes. She'd been tired, but her schedule over the past days had been anything but hectic. She gazed silently into Picard's eyes for a moment before she spoke. It would be useless to prevaricate or delay - he'd find out the truth in any case.
"I spoke with Deanna last night, in a professional capacity." She could see concern flash in the Captain's expression before his face again became impassive. "I'm taking a couple days of medical leave. I've been losing track of time lately, and Deanna's concerned about some of the things she's picking up from me." Her tone was casual and she tried to minimize the significance of the situation. Frankly she was a bit embarrassed. She was glad for his naturally taciturn nature - she knew he would not press her for more information than she was comfortable giving.
His body language opened up to her and he offered her his hand in friendship. She took it and squeezed it firmly before sitting back. While she did not want to admit her weakness to him, she found his presence comforting.
"Beverly, please keep me apprised on your condition." His eyes flashed concern. "Is there anything I can do?" His voice was friendly and warm.
She shook her head in the negative. "But thank you." She smiled. "I have an appointment with Counsellor Troi this morning. I've run a medical scan, which showed nothing out of the norm. We're hoping to find the cause elsewhere."
Nodding, he stood and tugged at his uniform. "Well. It's time for one of us to report for duty." He walked forward and placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure it will turn out." He smiled reassuringly, an expression she or anyone on the ship was rarely privileged to see. He was a man of few words, but said nothing without meaning. She placed her own hand over his. As usual, neither was willing to pull away quickly enough to prevent a shift in the tenor of the touch. Crusher and Picard felt their heartbeats speed up, both recognizing that they had again accidentally fallen into one of those particular moments when anything might transpire between them. For what seemed an eternity they simply stared into each other's eyes. The air in Beverly's quarters seemed to pop and crackle. Finally, the door chimed. Both sighed in relief, but their eye contact did not waver.
Beverly rose. "That would be Deanna."
Picard cleared his throat. "Yes. Well."
Crusher smiled and traced his jaw with her hand before stepping away from him and walking toward the door. She pressed the panel and Troi stood before them. Picard nodded to her as he walked past and out.
Deanna smiled. "Captain." She turned her head as he made his way down the corridor and to the lift. She then turned her attention to Beverly, who was clearing the dishes.
"Can I get you anything, Deanna?" Her voice was thick with emotion.
"No, thank you, Will and I met in 10 Forward for breakfast earlier." Troi recognized that she'd interrupted something between the two officers. She was hardly uncomfortable - this certainly wasn't the first time she'd been aware of the Captain's presence in Beverly's quarters long before she stepped off the lift. Her concern for the Doctor increased however, as Troi realized she'd felt nothing from Beverly as she stood outside the cabin. Usually her impressions from both were especially strong when they shared breakfast. She'd received nothing from Crusher but the usual human background noise.
"How are you feeling this morning?" Troi stepped forward and stood in the middle of the room.
"A little out of sorts, but I overslept." Beverly finished her task and walked over to the sofa. She motioned for Deanna to join her.
"How have you been sleeping lately?" Troi inclined her head.
"Right to the point, then." Crusher arched her brow. "Fine. Actually, I've been sleeping exceedingly well." Crusher's tone changed to one of revelation as she pondered the subject further. "I'm usually woken on occasion by vivid dreams from my youth, or by bouts of insomnia. But this month I've had neither."
Troi leaned back and continued her questions. "Can you remember any dreams you've had in the past month?"
Crusher reflected. "No. I don't think I can." The Doctor's brow knit in concentration. She looked over at Troi. "Do you think that's significant?"
Troi looked noncommittal. "It may be, but we can't be sure yet. I'd like you to think more about how you feel after you realized you've lost some period of time."
Crusher sat back and crossed her arms, her look introspective. "It's always disconcerting." She paused. "But aside from that, I feel very calm."
Troi considered further, beginning to form an opinion. "Beverly, I'd like to go to sickbay and have Doctor Selar re-run the neurological scans you did last night." She doubted that Beverly would intentionally forge her own tests, but it was possible that she had unconsciously affected them.
Crusher shrugged. "Let me change and we'll go." She stood and paused briefly before turning and heading into the bedroom.
Troi walked over to the replicator for a cup of tea and settled into the sofa. She heard the shower turn on and off, and Crusher step back into the bedroom. She became concerned a few minutes later however, when she ceased to hear any sounds coming from Beverly's room. She opened her mind slightly, and was horrified at the sense of confusion that greeted her. She jumped up and headed to the bulkhead door. "Beverly?" She received no response. "Beverly?" Again, nothing.
She pressed the panel and the door slid open to reveal Crusher sitting on the bed, blue eyes wide open and unfocused. She rushed to her side and touched her shoulder gently. "Beverly?"
Crusher started and looked up. "It happened again, didn't it?" She seemed forlorn. The same few bars of the mysterious melody floated through her mind. "Deanna, can you hear the music?"
Deanna seemed to focus, concentrating on the emotions she received from Crusher. Her face slacked and she spoke softly. "It's very faint, and I can't really make it out. It's more of an impression of music, but yes, I can hear something." She met Crusher's gaze and smiled reassuringly. "Let's get you in to sickbay."
Crusher pursed her lips and stood, arms crossed. She favored Deanna with a tight smile before heading into the corridor.
*********
Hours later Crusher and Troi stood outside Beverly's quarters. The medical scans had again proved inconclusive, but Troi was beginning to feel more and more strongly that Crusher had been subject to post-hypnotic suggestion. She'd told her as much, but Beverly was having trouble believing it.
"I can't see how that's possible, Deanna, but I can't offer another explanation. What do we do now?" Crusher turned and pressed the panel. The doors to her cabin swished open. She strolled through and flopped on the couch, thoroughly frustrated.
"I think we've done enough for today." Deanna easily read the Doctor's mood. "Tomorrow morning I'd like to try putting you under hypnosis for a short period of time. I do feel that the music you're hearing is somehow related. But I can't say if it's part of the program, or your reaction to it."
Beverly laughed. "Program? You make me sound like Data."
Troi grinned. "It's not exactly the same." She uncrossed her arms and walked over to sit next to the Doctor. "Beverly, I'm worried about leaving you alone tonite. I'd suggest having you stay in sickbay for observation," Crusher shot her a wicked frown, "but I have the feeling it would only add to your stress level."
Beverly laid a hand on Deanna's shoulder. "I've made it this far."
Troi looked skeptical. "All the same, I'd prefer if you had some company. Would you mind if I asked Data to stop in and check on you periodically?"
Crusher looked back, unconvinced. "If the alternative is being confined to my own sickbay, I don't see what choice I have." Her tone was dry.
Troi smiled again and rose. "Try to get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."
Beverly stood and walked slowly to the replicator, where she ordered a cup of earl grey. She walked into the bedroom and changed for the evening. Humming softly to herself, she began trimming her orchids.
*********
She awoke in the morning and greeted Data who was sitting eerily unoccupied on the couch.
"Good morning, Data."
"Good morning Doctor. How did you sleep?" Data rose and inclined his head.
"Very well, thank you." She stretched languidly on her way to grab a cup of tea. She felt genuinely refreshed. She ran a hand through her hair to pull a few loose strands from her face. She stood in front of the android, sipping daintily at her tea, saucer in hand. "How long are you babysitting me?"
Data responded only with a puzzled look and familiar tilt to his head.
Beverly smiled. "How long has Deanna asked you to look after me?"
"Ah. The Counselor asked me to make sure you made it safely to her office this morning."
Beverly smiled smugly. "My own personal leash."
Data stood stiffly, nonplussed. Beverly brushed his shoulder as she walked by. "Thank you, Data."
"Of course, Doctor." He always found Doctor Crusher to be most perplexing.
Crusher re-emerged momentarily. "Well then. I've got an appointment, and it appears I'm going to keep it." She hooked her arm in his and headed toward the door.
*********
Crusher stared absently into space, perched on the edge of Troi's sofa. She sat silently, her hands clasped neatly in her lap. "I don't know." She hummed quietly to herself.
Troi flopped back in her own chair. She'd been working with Crusher for an hour with no results. She'd been able to coax the anxious woman into a hypnotic state, but had gotten little further. The only thing she was certain of was that someone had been there ahead of her. She could learn no more without more invasive methods, and she did not feel comfortable proceeding without consulting the Doctor. Slowly she brought Beverly back to a fully conscious state.
Crusher's eyes focused and met Deanna's. "Well?" Her expression was hopeful, almost desperate.
Troi's face was full of compassion. "These things take time, Beverly."
Crusher exhaled through pursed lips. "You struck out."
Deanna smiled softly. "On the contrary, I've learned two things."
"I'm all ears." The redhead arched her brow and crossed her arms. She was growing increasingly frustrated.
"The first is that I am positive someone has, at some point, altered your consciousness. I'm not sure how, why, or what they did. But something is preventing me from getting through to you." She knit her brow.
Crusher matched her frown. "Hardly encouraging. What other gems have you got for me?"
Troi shook her head. "Whatever song that is, I'll be hearing it for a while too. You were repeating it to yourself continuously. But I can't determine if it's part of the program, or your own defense against it."
Beverly stood and paced anxiously. "Then we're back to square one."
"We're making progress, Beverly. Give yourself some time." Deanna's tone was gentle but firm, and encouraging.
Crusher threw her hands in the air. "We have no idea what's going on here, Deanna. What if I don't have time?" Her eyes blazed intensely and she waited for a response from Troi. She received none. The Betazoid only gazed back compassionately.
*********
"It's your birthday, Jean-Luc. Indulge a little bit - who knows when you'll get the chance again."
He smiled bashfully. "I suppose you're right." He gazed at her willowy form, wistfully thinking of birthdays past and indulgences he had not allowed himself.
She stalked purposefully back into the dimmed living area and her eyes met Picard's instantly.
"We're out of wine. Could you find us something suitable from the reserve?"
Returning to her task, she jumped and started, almost reeling as starlight from the nearby portal filtered in and brightly flashed on the cake knife she held. Suddenly the rest of the melody came rushing into her head. It was loud, almost overwhelming.
She turned toward Picard and clutched the knife tightly at her side, still humming quietly.
Arms still behind her Crusher moved assertively against him, pinning Picard against the wall. Violins, harps and cellos echoed in her mind, repeating the primary chorus of the song ceaselessly. It was beautiful, haunting, tragic and commanding - and it was everywhere. She searched Picard's eyes intently, but could not find what she needed there.
She then felt Picard tense against her and responded instantly. Her first strike was lethal. She knew his body inside and out, every square inch.
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.
*********
Crusher started and looked down at her dinner. The previously steaming bowl of pasta stared back listlessly. She threw down her fork and it clanged on the table. "Damn." She stood and took the cold plate over to the recycler. She no longer felt hungry. Deanna had reluctantly allowed her back to her quarters alone, with the promise she would allow Data to check in on her periodically. He'd come and gone before she sat down to eat. She wondered when he'd be back. She stalked through her quarters. This was driving her mad. She laughed at the irony. Going crazy was driving her nuts.
Her door chirruped. "Thank God. Come in, please."
Will Riker stuck his head through the door. "How's the patient?"
Crusher shot him a nasty glance. "Tell me only the senior staff knows about this."
"My lips are sealed. I thought you could use some company." He walked in slowly.
She smiled genuinely. "Well, you were right." She sat down and eyed him warily. "Last we talked you'd made me a promise."
Will flipped a chair around and sat facing her. He placed his hand over his heart. "And I would not dream of breaking it." His eyes twinkled. "It's all set for tomorrow night."
Crusher's face was smug. "Let's just hope I'm around to enjoy it." She fixed her stare on one of her orchids.
Will rose and pulled down his uniform. "How long have you been cooped up in here?" He glanced around disapprovingly. "Come have dinner with me."
"Do I have permission for this little field trip?" Crusher's tone was wry and her arms crossed.
Riker flashed a grin and a row of white teeth. "If you don't tell, I won't either."
A glimmer of a smile appeared on Crusher's face as she rose from the couch and grabbed a sweater. "Then lead the way."
*********
Crusher and Riker sat at a table in 10 Forward. Will ate with gusto, and Beverly was only slightly more subdued. She had the feeling of waking and not quite shaking the dream from the night before. The tune ran continuously through her mind now, a subtle soundtrack to her life. She was becoming deathly afraid of being alone. Worry lines were etched around her eyes. Riker couldn't help but notice and was doing his level best to entertain her. Crusher had to admit it was hard to stay melancholy when the Enterprise's irrepressible first officer turned the charm all the way up.
She chuckled as he concluded a raucous and bawdy story. Usually it would have people falling out of their seats. Beverly sensed his disappointment. She didn't want to bruise Will's ego. "Commander, thank you." She met his merry blue eyes. "Will, I really appreciate you doing this for me."
"Beverly, whatever it is, I'm sure you and Deanna will figure it out." He took a long drink of ale. "Now." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Tell me about this birthday party."
For the first time that night Riker saw a genuine smile spread across Crusher's face and light up her eyes. "I think he's actually going to be surprised."
"Is that wise?" Riker's brow arched.
Now Beverly leaned in. "I'll let you in on a little secret." She crooked her finger and Riker leaned even closer. "He'll be thrilled. But don't let on you know. He likes to keep up appearances."
Riker laughed and Beverly joined him. It felt good, and she finally felt relaxed. Hypnosis or no, she was looking forward to tomorrow night. She sat back and tossed her napkin on the table.
A waiter floated by and cleared the table. "Anything else, sirs?"
Beverly shook her head and Will waved him on. Crusher noticed Alyssa and Tom Powell in a corner. The young nurse stole a glance her way every so often. She was clearly concerned. Beverly rose. "I'll be right back."
Riker saw her glide over to the table and speak briefly with the woman. She touched her several times on the shoulder, and after exchanging pleasantries with her husband walked back over to the table. Will stood to meet her. "Everything all right?"
"Alyssa wanted to know when she gets her extended vacation." Crusher shook her head as she and Riker walked out of the lounge.
After another wild story and a short turbo lift ride they'd returned to her cabin. She stood outside apprehensively. She dreaded facing the rest of the evening alone.
Riker sensed her unease and placed a hand on her elbow and spoke softly. "It'll work out."
She smiled crookedly. "Thanks Will. For everything."
He tugged his uniform. "It's the least I can do for a friend."
She smiled again and turned toward the door. The panels swished open. She walked in slowly. Riker nodded a final good night and headed back toward the lift.
The doors closed behind her and she surveyed her cabin. She sighed heavily. "Here goes nothing."
*********