*********
Morning of the Magicians
Four
*********
She woke again the sound of her cabin door chirruping. "Who is it?"
"Beverly, it's Deanna." Troi's voice held a touch of concern. Crusher was sick of hearing it from everyone she spoke to. Even Data had gotten in on the act.
"Come on in Deanna. I'll be right out." She heard the doors open and the petite woman enter. She shook herself mentally and tried to focus. She was still caught up in her dream, whatever it had been. Crusher was starting to feel very angry at whoever had done this to her.
She pulled on her robe and strolled into the living room. "What new torture do you have for me today?"
Deanna rolled her eyes. Beverly could be a handful. "I'd like to do some more intensive therapy with you today."
"I don't know if I like the sound of that." Crusher regarded Troi skeptically.
The counselor adopted a stern expression, but her warm brown eyes were reassuring. "I've done some research. I have to say your case is perplexing."
"Ah. Every woman strives to be a mystery." Crusher crossed her legs and leaned back, a self-satisfied grin on her face. She was doing everything she could to distract Deanna. She was terrified.
Deanna sensed the Doctor's fear, and couldn't blame her. She was apprehensive herself. "Beverly, I understand your hesitancy. I wouldn't recommend this if we hadn't exhausted other options."
Crusher regarded her friend. She'd often had to break the news to patients that a procedure had failed, and that a more radical approach was necessary. It was never easy, but it was far worse being on the receiving end. Knowing that Troi would be there to help her through it was small consolation.
"Beverly, the therapy is quite involved, and I'm unsure how long I'll need to have you in a suggestible state. I need to know if you're really ready." Troi searched Crusher's shining blue eyes, sensing much doubt.
Crusher shook her head. "I want to be. I want to find out what's going on, and I want to be rid of it. This sounds ridiculous, but I don't want to miss tonite." She grinned sheepishly.
Deanna smiled. "Let me do some more research. I'd like to speak with my mother about this as well." Crusher's expression was shocked. Troi smiled knowingly. "Believe it or not, I often consult her."
"Well then, please send my best." A tension filled the air, and Beverly stood. "Something for breakfast?"
Deanna heaved a sigh. "Absolutely. I want to hear all about what you've got planned for tonite."
Crusher smiled in anticipation. "Only after I hear about the cake you're bringing."
Troi grabbed Crusher's hand and leaned in. "It's positively sinful. Chocolate, of course. Rich, light - it's amazing. You'll love it."
"Well, it's all set. You've got the cake, Will's providing the entertainment, Geordi and Data on decorations." She laughed. "I'm a little apprehensive about that last one."
"I don't blame you." Troi picked over a croissant while Beverly worked on a Danish. Deanna listened to her hum quietly as she ate. It was eerie. "Computer, record audio for Doctor Crusher's cabin."
Crusher looked at her querulously.
"You've been humming to yourself for the last five minutes." Troi looked at her pointedly. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this." She stood. "I'm going to get to work on it."
"You're leaving me to my own devices?" Beverly glanced at her incredulously as she rose to clear the coffee table.
"Beverly, an important part of your treatment is for you to be relaxed. I need you to be open to what you're feeling. And you can't do that if all you're feeling is anxiety." The trim brunette stood at the door, her hands clasped at her waist. She reminded Crusher of a teacher she'd had when she was ten. "But expect visitors."
The women exchanged smiles and Deanna departed. Beverly stood and stared around at her empty quarters. Singing quietly, she began to pick up scattered minutia that had accumulated from inattention. She tried to clear her mind and concentrate on the evening. She'd been looking forward to it for so long - practically since last year, when she'd reluctantly departed Jean-Luc's cabin just after 23.00 hours. She had not had the determination then to ask to stay. But for the past months she'd found her strength growing. It seemed odd to wait for an occasion to initiate something, but somehow appropriate. Her heart sped as she thought about it.
*********
Back in her office, Deanna downloaded the audio information from Beverly's quarters. She isolated a time frame and stopped the playback.
"Computer, identify the song on playback." Troi sat at her desk, arms crossed, waiting for a response. The computer chirped and blipped for a few moments. It responded in monotone. "Ave Maria, by Franz Schubert, an Earth composer, circa 1800."
Troi wondered where Crusher would have heard the song, and what the importance to her current situation might be. Without knowing the significance to Beverly, it was impossible to know the relevance to her condition. She entered everything she had into her console and sent it off to her mother. Hoping to receive a response by the morning she clicked the monitor shut. "Computer, time?"
"The current time is 13.00 hours."
Deanna had an appointment in less than half an hour. She strolled over to her shelves and grabbed a padd to study the case before the crewmember arrived. She hoped that Beverly would be able to enjoy her evening. She knew that both she and Picard were looking forward to it. The thought elicited a small grin.
*********
Beverly arrived at Picard's quarters at 18.00 hours. He would be off duty in an hour, and she had already instructed him not to arrive early. She'd planned for the meal and wine to be delivered, and Data and Geordi were to meet her in half an hour to put everything together. She punched in her medical override code and entered.
She took a moment to look around, enjoying a rare opportunity to gaze unabashedly at Picard's quarters. She smiled at his knickknacks, all neatly arranged. Books, artifacts, models. A smile teased her lips. She walked past the shelves, trailing her fingers along them.
She sat in his desk chair, which had softened to his form over the years. It felt familiar, and she reclined and settled into it.
.....It's your birthday, Jean-Luc. Indulge a little bit - who knows when you'll get the chance again.........
....... 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.........
........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......
.....Arms still behind her Crusher moved assertively against him, pinning Picard against the wall.....
.... She then felt Picard tense against her and responded instantly. Her first strike was lethal.....
*********
Beverly swiveled in the chair, the door to Picard's quarters sounding.
"Come in." They parted to reveal Data and Geordi. The android stepped forward.
"Are you all right Doctor?" He was quite comical - Geordi had placed a conical birthday hat on his head, a strap secured under his pale chin. Crusher laughed out loud. "I'm fine, Data." In truth she was upset - it had happened again. She had no clue what had transpired between the time she'd arrived at Picard's and when Data and Geordi had arrived. It was a loss of at least 20 minutes. She shook her head and stood, taking a bag from Geordi and peering inside. A wide grin broke out on her face - Jean-Luc would be horrified.
"It's perfect, Geordi." She turned as a few crewmembers arrived with the food. It smelled divine. Picard would arrive shortly, and she hurried to get everything in place before he did. He was infuriatingly punctual.
Moments later Troi and Riker arrived. The air was filled with joy, and already they were creating quite a din. Beverly looked around. These people truly were her family. She felt a deep sense of satisfaction. She turned to finish the place settings, and her heart soared as she heard the deep, resonant sound of Jean-Luc's voice as he arrived.
She turned, her hands nervously hovering at her stomach. She was immediately calmed as she met his eyes, and he gave her a look that at once thanked her and thrilled her. His eyes sparkled in sarcastic amusement as he looked around. "You've really outdone yourself, Doctor."
"It's not everyday our Captain celebrates a birthday." She arched her brow and smiled as the senior staff looked on, all of them smiling in turn. Even Data was trying his best, and doing quite well.
Jean-Luc sensed a growing tension, and promptly moved to forestall it. "Well. Let's eat." Picard sat first, at the head of the table. Beverly waited for the rest of the guests to be seated, and poured wine for each. She finally sat at Picard's right, and waited while Jean-Luc filled her own glass.
As everyone's plates and glasses were filled, Picard stood. "I can think of no better way to celebrate the beginning of another year than with all of you - my friends, my family." There was a heartily agreeable chorus. The room filled with chatter as they began to eat.
*********
"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. His breath caught in his chest and his mechanical heart leapt as she pulled back and stood to clear plates from the coffee table. Picard reclined with the second piece of cake he'd been deliberating over with so much agony.
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. He thought that perhaps tonite might be the last he dwelled on those regrets. He had watched Beverly closely, carefully all evening. Their eyes met constantly and she had never been more than a step away from him. She was like his shadow; ever present but never invasive or unwelcome. And one would find himself incapable of explaining if it were ever absent. He remembered with a slight thrill how she'd touched him frequently - familiar, lingering grazes that seemed to invite more.
Beverly reflected on the subtle messages she'd been sending all evening, hoping Picard had picked up on them. Only moments earlier the remainder of the Enterprise senior staff had departed, merry and full of well wishes. The feel of joy still hung in the air of the cabin, as did several loony party favors selected and arranged by Data and Geordi. 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. She was glad to have this time with Jean-Luc, and in fact had a very specific agenda for the rest of the night. Beverly almost giggled nervously in anticipation. She felt like a schoolgirl with a major crush - one that was in fact returned and about to become something real.
*********
In her quarters, Deanna Troi was preparing for bed. She sat at her mirror, brushing her hair and contemplating Beverly Crusher. Dinner this evening had been outstanding, and everyone departed with an intrinsic sense of happiness. Still, the Counselor could not get the tempestuous Doctor out of her head. What's more, the song Beverly had been hearing was now in her head as well, and she could swear it was getting louder.
As soon as the computer had identified the tune, Troi had listened to it through, and was saved Beverly's misery of hearing the same bars repeat endlessly. At the very least it was a beautiful song - the situation could be worse. Not willing to ruin Crusher's evening, Deanna had not approached her with the news that she had discovered the origin of the musical piece. They would discuss it in the morning.
Troi finished with her hair and braided it slowly and carefully before she lay down. She attempted to clear her head of the jetsam and flotsam of the day. She was able to turn down the volume, but unable to completely block out the song.
*********
Beverly finished with the dishes, but before moving back to the sofa she paused to press a button on the desk. An ancient Terran melody from the classical period filled the air and the lights came down almost imperceptibly.
She stalked purposefully back into the dimmed living area and her eyes met Picard's instantly. From what she saw in them it was clear he had not missed her point. She began to sit but noticed she still had not cleared the cake plates. Half of her wanted to ignore it, but the other half of her perfectionist personality insisted that the ambience be absolutely right. Clanging silver and cake crumbs were not part of the plan.
She began gathering them up and Picard stood to assist her. She waved him off. "It's OK Jean-Luc. I have another task in mind for you." 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.
Having already guessed at her intentions, Picard was now certain Beverly had something quite special planned for the rest of the evening. He spoke infrequently and with reverence of the vintages he kept hidden away, and knew she would never flippantly request he bring out a bottle. He happily stole away to the bedroom, his thoughts racing. He quickly catalogued what he had on hand, racking his mind for the most appropriate and symbolic choice.
Crusher's smile stayed firmly in place, only widening slightly. His demeanor was always joyous when dealing with wine - its selection, consideration, or consumption. She knew he was thrilled with his task. The fact that he might be more excited about the wine than about what she had in mind afterward only endeared him to her more. She hummed quietly with the music as she finished clearing the table. She stowed the plates away and turned her attention to the cake. Troi had been in charge of it, and was quite proud of the masterpiece she'd created. It was, of course, chocolate. Sinfully dark and decadent, she had managed to find a recipe that was at once rich and light. The texture was incredibly layered - the body firm and the frosting whipped and creamy. The overall result was absolutely intense and left you aching for more. Beverly looked forward to her own second slice, hopefully to be enjoyed in the approaching early morning hours and not alone.
*********
Troi turned over in her bed. She had been in a shallow sleep for the last minutes, unable to reach a deeper level of rest. Disturbing images had been flashing through her mind, and the sound of the Ave Maria was getting louder. There was a knife, and a pulsating flashing, and glasses of wine. Deanna could see that whatever the scene was, it was occurring on the Enterprise, but she could not see whose quarters.
She sighed heavily and turned again. Giving up, she focused on what she was feeling. A sense of horror filled her, and she concentrated harder. Whatever was going on, it was not good. Troi could not shake her anxiety. She leaned over and tapped the panel on the side of her bed.
"Will, I'm sorry to disturb you. Can you come to my quarters? Please hurry."
*********
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 was rarely conscious of its presence, but did find herself either singing or humming it under her breath on several occasions. Slow, lilting, and rich, the version she heard was a string arrangement. It always gave her a sense of déjà vu and she knew that it was a very old, very ceremonial piece from Earth - from its sound she guessed perhaps around the 17th or 18th century.
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. Realization swept over her as she recognized the piece, Schubert's 'Ave Maria,' and where she had heard it. She gasped and grasped the knife tighter in her fist.
Picard emerged from the other room and began speaking. Crusher could not distinguish his words, only registered the deep sound that rumbled from his chest. Her vision became sharp and pixilated. From a great distance she heard the clang as Picard set down the wine. Each sound came through to her, but was muffled by the music that was now reverberating through her mind. The composition swelled, and more instruments joined the arrangement. As the piece moved to a crescendo a cello began to play what she recognized as the central melody. It was all she could do not to begin crying. She turned toward Picard and clutched the knife tightly at her side, still humming quietly.
She saw that he was speaking to her, but she could hear nothing of what he said. As she walked forward she feigned a stretch, moving her arms behind her waist and masking the weapon in her right hand. Picard offered her a glass of wine, proudly showing her the bottle. It was of course from the Picard winery, some twenty years old - clearly one of his finest. She smiled approvingly, seductively, and continued to advance. Perplexed, Picard set the glass down and moved against the bulkhead adjoining his bedroom.
*********
Riker sat at Troi's side. It did not take empathy to feel her anxiety. She was getting flashes of violent scenes and emotions, but she could not pinpoint anything. He moved to one knee, poised in front of the distressed counselor. He took her hands.
"Deanna. Relax. Try to block out everything but what you're getting."
Her eyes were wide and desperate. "It's just an impression Will. Whoever it is, they're confused too."
Will frowned. "You said you were hearing the same song Doctor Crusher has been hearing. Do you think it could be her?"
Troi shrugged. "I don't know. But I'd like to speak with her."
Riker raised his eyebrow. "We were the last to leave the Captain's quarters. And those two looked like they weren't intending on going anywhere anytime soon." His mouth curved in a mischievous grin.
Deanna slapped him on the shoulder. "This isn't the time for that, Will Riker."
Will looked contrite and tapped his badge. "Riker to Crusher." He waited a moment, and paged her again. Still no response. "Computer, location of Doctor Beverly Crusher?"
"Doctor Crusher is in Jean-Luc Picard's quarters."
"That answers that question." Riker seemed discouraged.
Deanna was growing ever more certain, however. "Will, I don't like this. We need to go there. Now."
He searched her eyes. They were insistent. "OK. Come on." He turned and stalked out, Troi on his heels.
*********
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.
Jean-Luc melted under Beverly's piercing stare. Her sapphire eyes were profoundly intense, dilated and fixed. They were filled with passion, but somehow unfocused. He could not ignore her physical presence, but instinctually began to resist her. He began to feel claustrophobic. She was humming eerily to herself. She had responded to nothing he'd said since returning from the bedroom. He spoke her name. "Beverly." She still stared at him, but did not respond. His tone became authoritative. It was one that he reserved for the bridge and signaled they were no longer off duty. "Beverly." Again, it was as if he had not spoken.
For her part, Crusher's ears registered nothing. A clear, crystalline voice was now singing, perhaps the most pure and beautiful she'd ever heard. It was all that she was aware of and the world outside her began closing in. Picard was now the only thing she could see, and all she could hear was the song, a great orchestra crashing in her mind. She pictured an ancient church with great towering marble walls and devastatingly beautiful stained glass windows. She could see the various colors of light filtering in, muted as though she were underwater.
Picard's body began to stiffen against Beverly's in an attempt to struggle. At that moment, the door to his cabin chimed. Crusher panicked, and she struck at Picard wildly, the knife glancing off the side of his torso. He cried out in pain, and she in frustration.
"Beverly, what are you doing? What the hell is going on?" Though bleeding profusely, he managed to grab hold of her wrists. She was fighting him doggedly, her blue eyes blazing wildly. The knife grazed him again. "Doctor Crusher. Stop. That's an order." It was an absurd thing to say, but Picard's world had begun running a million miles an hour, and he did not have time to think of anything more authoritative. His door was chiming insistently.
"For God's sake, enter!" Picard shouted about the racket he and Beverly were creating. The door slid open to reveal Will Riker and Deanna Troi, and they ran in, panicked. Riker immediately moved to assist the ailing Captain, who was loosing strength. There was blood everywhere, on the Doctor and Captain. Will could not tell who was injured.
Deanna tapped her badge furiously. "Troi to sickbay, medical emergency in Captain's Picard's quarters." There was little more she could do until Will subdued Crusher, who was still resisting him. He had called to her several times, but she did not respond. She looked confused, lost, and angry - almost psychotic. Troi had completely blocked out the intense flow of emotions coming from her. Picard had slumped to the floor. Finally, Riker was able to get the knife away from Crusher, but not before he sustained minor cuts to his hands and arms. He held her tightly from behind, hugging her arms against him. Though uncertain of the situation, he did not want to hurt her.
Beverly began screaming. "No. No. No. No." The volume in her head was deafening. Everything was white - she could not see or hear anyone around her. She was weakening, but continued to fight against Riker.
Finally, a team from sickbay arrived. They took in the scene and were immediately confused. Troi pointed to the Picard. "The captain needs immediate attention." Two crewmembers in blue rushed by, and Troi turned to the third. "Doctor Crusher needs to be sedated immediately."
The young woman looked doubtful, but Crusher was clearly out of control. She loaded a hypo and pressed it to her neck. She immediately slackened against Riker, who swept her up in his arms and turned to make his way out and toward sickbay. He gave a stern and unhappy look to Troi as he rushed out. Deanna stood with her arms crossed as the two medics attended to Picard.
Sensing her question, one looked up at her. "We're stabilizing him. We need to get him into surgery." The woman who hade sedated Beverly tapped her badge. "Stewart to Selar. You're needed in sickbay immediately." Her tone was one of shock and confusion.
After a moment the Vulcan answered coolly. "Understood. I am on my way."
The team carefully loaded Picard onto a biobed and hurried off, Troi following closely behind. What in the hell was going on? What had happened here?
*********
Morning of the Magicians
Four
*********
She woke again the sound of her cabin door chirruping. "Who is it?"
"Beverly, it's Deanna." Troi's voice held a touch of concern. Crusher was sick of hearing it from everyone she spoke to. Even Data had gotten in on the act.
"Come on in Deanna. I'll be right out." She heard the doors open and the petite woman enter. She shook herself mentally and tried to focus. She was still caught up in her dream, whatever it had been. Crusher was starting to feel very angry at whoever had done this to her.
She pulled on her robe and strolled into the living room. "What new torture do you have for me today?"
Deanna rolled her eyes. Beverly could be a handful. "I'd like to do some more intensive therapy with you today."
"I don't know if I like the sound of that." Crusher regarded Troi skeptically.
The counselor adopted a stern expression, but her warm brown eyes were reassuring. "I've done some research. I have to say your case is perplexing."
"Ah. Every woman strives to be a mystery." Crusher crossed her legs and leaned back, a self-satisfied grin on her face. She was doing everything she could to distract Deanna. She was terrified.
Deanna sensed the Doctor's fear, and couldn't blame her. She was apprehensive herself. "Beverly, I understand your hesitancy. I wouldn't recommend this if we hadn't exhausted other options."
Crusher regarded her friend. She'd often had to break the news to patients that a procedure had failed, and that a more radical approach was necessary. It was never easy, but it was far worse being on the receiving end. Knowing that Troi would be there to help her through it was small consolation.
"Beverly, the therapy is quite involved, and I'm unsure how long I'll need to have you in a suggestible state. I need to know if you're really ready." Troi searched Crusher's shining blue eyes, sensing much doubt.
Crusher shook her head. "I want to be. I want to find out what's going on, and I want to be rid of it. This sounds ridiculous, but I don't want to miss tonite." She grinned sheepishly.
Deanna smiled. "Let me do some more research. I'd like to speak with my mother about this as well." Crusher's expression was shocked. Troi smiled knowingly. "Believe it or not, I often consult her."
"Well then, please send my best." A tension filled the air, and Beverly stood. "Something for breakfast?"
Deanna heaved a sigh. "Absolutely. I want to hear all about what you've got planned for tonite."
Crusher smiled in anticipation. "Only after I hear about the cake you're bringing."
Troi grabbed Crusher's hand and leaned in. "It's positively sinful. Chocolate, of course. Rich, light - it's amazing. You'll love it."
"Well, it's all set. You've got the cake, Will's providing the entertainment, Geordi and Data on decorations." She laughed. "I'm a little apprehensive about that last one."
"I don't blame you." Troi picked over a croissant while Beverly worked on a Danish. Deanna listened to her hum quietly as she ate. It was eerie. "Computer, record audio for Doctor Crusher's cabin."
Crusher looked at her querulously.
"You've been humming to yourself for the last five minutes." Troi looked at her pointedly. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this." She stood. "I'm going to get to work on it."
"You're leaving me to my own devices?" Beverly glanced at her incredulously as she rose to clear the coffee table.
"Beverly, an important part of your treatment is for you to be relaxed. I need you to be open to what you're feeling. And you can't do that if all you're feeling is anxiety." The trim brunette stood at the door, her hands clasped at her waist. She reminded Crusher of a teacher she'd had when she was ten. "But expect visitors."
The women exchanged smiles and Deanna departed. Beverly stood and stared around at her empty quarters. Singing quietly, she began to pick up scattered minutia that had accumulated from inattention. She tried to clear her mind and concentrate on the evening. She'd been looking forward to it for so long - practically since last year, when she'd reluctantly departed Jean-Luc's cabin just after 23.00 hours. She had not had the determination then to ask to stay. But for the past months she'd found her strength growing. It seemed odd to wait for an occasion to initiate something, but somehow appropriate. Her heart sped as she thought about it.
*********
Back in her office, Deanna downloaded the audio information from Beverly's quarters. She isolated a time frame and stopped the playback.
"Computer, identify the song on playback." Troi sat at her desk, arms crossed, waiting for a response. The computer chirped and blipped for a few moments. It responded in monotone. "Ave Maria, by Franz Schubert, an Earth composer, circa 1800."
Troi wondered where Crusher would have heard the song, and what the importance to her current situation might be. Without knowing the significance to Beverly, it was impossible to know the relevance to her condition. She entered everything she had into her console and sent it off to her mother. Hoping to receive a response by the morning she clicked the monitor shut. "Computer, time?"
"The current time is 13.00 hours."
Deanna had an appointment in less than half an hour. She strolled over to her shelves and grabbed a padd to study the case before the crewmember arrived. She hoped that Beverly would be able to enjoy her evening. She knew that both she and Picard were looking forward to it. The thought elicited a small grin.
*********
Beverly arrived at Picard's quarters at 18.00 hours. He would be off duty in an hour, and she had already instructed him not to arrive early. She'd planned for the meal and wine to be delivered, and Data and Geordi were to meet her in half an hour to put everything together. She punched in her medical override code and entered.
She took a moment to look around, enjoying a rare opportunity to gaze unabashedly at Picard's quarters. She smiled at his knickknacks, all neatly arranged. Books, artifacts, models. A smile teased her lips. She walked past the shelves, trailing her fingers along them.
She sat in his desk chair, which had softened to his form over the years. It felt familiar, and she reclined and settled into it.
.....It's your birthday, Jean-Luc. Indulge a little bit - who knows when you'll get the chance again.........
....... 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.........
........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......
.....Arms still behind her Crusher moved assertively against him, pinning Picard against the wall.....
.... She then felt Picard tense against her and responded instantly. Her first strike was lethal.....
*********
Beverly swiveled in the chair, the door to Picard's quarters sounding.
"Come in." They parted to reveal Data and Geordi. The android stepped forward.
"Are you all right Doctor?" He was quite comical - Geordi had placed a conical birthday hat on his head, a strap secured under his pale chin. Crusher laughed out loud. "I'm fine, Data." In truth she was upset - it had happened again. She had no clue what had transpired between the time she'd arrived at Picard's and when Data and Geordi had arrived. It was a loss of at least 20 minutes. She shook her head and stood, taking a bag from Geordi and peering inside. A wide grin broke out on her face - Jean-Luc would be horrified.
"It's perfect, Geordi." She turned as a few crewmembers arrived with the food. It smelled divine. Picard would arrive shortly, and she hurried to get everything in place before he did. He was infuriatingly punctual.
Moments later Troi and Riker arrived. The air was filled with joy, and already they were creating quite a din. Beverly looked around. These people truly were her family. She felt a deep sense of satisfaction. She turned to finish the place settings, and her heart soared as she heard the deep, resonant sound of Jean-Luc's voice as he arrived.
She turned, her hands nervously hovering at her stomach. She was immediately calmed as she met his eyes, and he gave her a look that at once thanked her and thrilled her. His eyes sparkled in sarcastic amusement as he looked around. "You've really outdone yourself, Doctor."
"It's not everyday our Captain celebrates a birthday." She arched her brow and smiled as the senior staff looked on, all of them smiling in turn. Even Data was trying his best, and doing quite well.
Jean-Luc sensed a growing tension, and promptly moved to forestall it. "Well. Let's eat." Picard sat first, at the head of the table. Beverly waited for the rest of the guests to be seated, and poured wine for each. She finally sat at Picard's right, and waited while Jean-Luc filled her own glass.
As everyone's plates and glasses were filled, Picard stood. "I can think of no better way to celebrate the beginning of another year than with all of you - my friends, my family." There was a heartily agreeable chorus. The room filled with chatter as they began to eat.
*********
"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. His breath caught in his chest and his mechanical heart leapt as she pulled back and stood to clear plates from the coffee table. Picard reclined with the second piece of cake he'd been deliberating over with so much agony.
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. He thought that perhaps tonite might be the last he dwelled on those regrets. He had watched Beverly closely, carefully all evening. Their eyes met constantly and she had never been more than a step away from him. She was like his shadow; ever present but never invasive or unwelcome. And one would find himself incapable of explaining if it were ever absent. He remembered with a slight thrill how she'd touched him frequently - familiar, lingering grazes that seemed to invite more.
Beverly reflected on the subtle messages she'd been sending all evening, hoping Picard had picked up on them. Only moments earlier the remainder of the Enterprise senior staff had departed, merry and full of well wishes. The feel of joy still hung in the air of the cabin, as did several loony party favors selected and arranged by Data and Geordi. 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. She was glad to have this time with Jean-Luc, and in fact had a very specific agenda for the rest of the night. Beverly almost giggled nervously in anticipation. She felt like a schoolgirl with a major crush - one that was in fact returned and about to become something real.
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In her quarters, Deanna Troi was preparing for bed. She sat at her mirror, brushing her hair and contemplating Beverly Crusher. Dinner this evening had been outstanding, and everyone departed with an intrinsic sense of happiness. Still, the Counselor could not get the tempestuous Doctor out of her head. What's more, the song Beverly had been hearing was now in her head as well, and she could swear it was getting louder.
As soon as the computer had identified the tune, Troi had listened to it through, and was saved Beverly's misery of hearing the same bars repeat endlessly. At the very least it was a beautiful song - the situation could be worse. Not willing to ruin Crusher's evening, Deanna had not approached her with the news that she had discovered the origin of the musical piece. They would discuss it in the morning.
Troi finished with her hair and braided it slowly and carefully before she lay down. She attempted to clear her head of the jetsam and flotsam of the day. She was able to turn down the volume, but unable to completely block out the song.
*********
Beverly finished with the dishes, but before moving back to the sofa she paused to press a button on the desk. An ancient Terran melody from the classical period filled the air and the lights came down almost imperceptibly.
She stalked purposefully back into the dimmed living area and her eyes met Picard's instantly. From what she saw in them it was clear he had not missed her point. She began to sit but noticed she still had not cleared the cake plates. Half of her wanted to ignore it, but the other half of her perfectionist personality insisted that the ambience be absolutely right. Clanging silver and cake crumbs were not part of the plan.
She began gathering them up and Picard stood to assist her. She waved him off. "It's OK Jean-Luc. I have another task in mind for you." 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.
Having already guessed at her intentions, Picard was now certain Beverly had something quite special planned for the rest of the evening. He spoke infrequently and with reverence of the vintages he kept hidden away, and knew she would never flippantly request he bring out a bottle. He happily stole away to the bedroom, his thoughts racing. He quickly catalogued what he had on hand, racking his mind for the most appropriate and symbolic choice.
Crusher's smile stayed firmly in place, only widening slightly. His demeanor was always joyous when dealing with wine - its selection, consideration, or consumption. She knew he was thrilled with his task. The fact that he might be more excited about the wine than about what she had in mind afterward only endeared him to her more. She hummed quietly with the music as she finished clearing the table. She stowed the plates away and turned her attention to the cake. Troi had been in charge of it, and was quite proud of the masterpiece she'd created. It was, of course, chocolate. Sinfully dark and decadent, she had managed to find a recipe that was at once rich and light. The texture was incredibly layered - the body firm and the frosting whipped and creamy. The overall result was absolutely intense and left you aching for more. Beverly looked forward to her own second slice, hopefully to be enjoyed in the approaching early morning hours and not alone.
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Troi turned over in her bed. She had been in a shallow sleep for the last minutes, unable to reach a deeper level of rest. Disturbing images had been flashing through her mind, and the sound of the Ave Maria was getting louder. There was a knife, and a pulsating flashing, and glasses of wine. Deanna could see that whatever the scene was, it was occurring on the Enterprise, but she could not see whose quarters.
She sighed heavily and turned again. Giving up, she focused on what she was feeling. A sense of horror filled her, and she concentrated harder. Whatever was going on, it was not good. Troi could not shake her anxiety. She leaned over and tapped the panel on the side of her bed.
"Will, I'm sorry to disturb you. Can you come to my quarters? Please hurry."
*********
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 was rarely conscious of its presence, but did find herself either singing or humming it under her breath on several occasions. Slow, lilting, and rich, the version she heard was a string arrangement. It always gave her a sense of déjà vu and she knew that it was a very old, very ceremonial piece from Earth - from its sound she guessed perhaps around the 17th or 18th century.
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. Realization swept over her as she recognized the piece, Schubert's 'Ave Maria,' and where she had heard it. She gasped and grasped the knife tighter in her fist.
Picard emerged from the other room and began speaking. Crusher could not distinguish his words, only registered the deep sound that rumbled from his chest. Her vision became sharp and pixilated. From a great distance she heard the clang as Picard set down the wine. Each sound came through to her, but was muffled by the music that was now reverberating through her mind. The composition swelled, and more instruments joined the arrangement. As the piece moved to a crescendo a cello began to play what she recognized as the central melody. It was all she could do not to begin crying. She turned toward Picard and clutched the knife tightly at her side, still humming quietly.
She saw that he was speaking to her, but she could hear nothing of what he said. As she walked forward she feigned a stretch, moving her arms behind her waist and masking the weapon in her right hand. Picard offered her a glass of wine, proudly showing her the bottle. It was of course from the Picard winery, some twenty years old - clearly one of his finest. She smiled approvingly, seductively, and continued to advance. Perplexed, Picard set the glass down and moved against the bulkhead adjoining his bedroom.
*********
Riker sat at Troi's side. It did not take empathy to feel her anxiety. She was getting flashes of violent scenes and emotions, but she could not pinpoint anything. He moved to one knee, poised in front of the distressed counselor. He took her hands.
"Deanna. Relax. Try to block out everything but what you're getting."
Her eyes were wide and desperate. "It's just an impression Will. Whoever it is, they're confused too."
Will frowned. "You said you were hearing the same song Doctor Crusher has been hearing. Do you think it could be her?"
Troi shrugged. "I don't know. But I'd like to speak with her."
Riker raised his eyebrow. "We were the last to leave the Captain's quarters. And those two looked like they weren't intending on going anywhere anytime soon." His mouth curved in a mischievous grin.
Deanna slapped him on the shoulder. "This isn't the time for that, Will Riker."
Will looked contrite and tapped his badge. "Riker to Crusher." He waited a moment, and paged her again. Still no response. "Computer, location of Doctor Beverly Crusher?"
"Doctor Crusher is in Jean-Luc Picard's quarters."
"That answers that question." Riker seemed discouraged.
Deanna was growing ever more certain, however. "Will, I don't like this. We need to go there. Now."
He searched her eyes. They were insistent. "OK. Come on." He turned and stalked out, Troi on his heels.
*********
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.
Jean-Luc melted under Beverly's piercing stare. Her sapphire eyes were profoundly intense, dilated and fixed. They were filled with passion, but somehow unfocused. He could not ignore her physical presence, but instinctually began to resist her. He began to feel claustrophobic. She was humming eerily to herself. She had responded to nothing he'd said since returning from the bedroom. He spoke her name. "Beverly." She still stared at him, but did not respond. His tone became authoritative. It was one that he reserved for the bridge and signaled they were no longer off duty. "Beverly." Again, it was as if he had not spoken.
For her part, Crusher's ears registered nothing. A clear, crystalline voice was now singing, perhaps the most pure and beautiful she'd ever heard. It was all that she was aware of and the world outside her began closing in. Picard was now the only thing she could see, and all she could hear was the song, a great orchestra crashing in her mind. She pictured an ancient church with great towering marble walls and devastatingly beautiful stained glass windows. She could see the various colors of light filtering in, muted as though she were underwater.
Picard's body began to stiffen against Beverly's in an attempt to struggle. At that moment, the door to his cabin chimed. Crusher panicked, and she struck at Picard wildly, the knife glancing off the side of his torso. He cried out in pain, and she in frustration.
"Beverly, what are you doing? What the hell is going on?" Though bleeding profusely, he managed to grab hold of her wrists. She was fighting him doggedly, her blue eyes blazing wildly. The knife grazed him again. "Doctor Crusher. Stop. That's an order." It was an absurd thing to say, but Picard's world had begun running a million miles an hour, and he did not have time to think of anything more authoritative. His door was chiming insistently.
"For God's sake, enter!" Picard shouted about the racket he and Beverly were creating. The door slid open to reveal Will Riker and Deanna Troi, and they ran in, panicked. Riker immediately moved to assist the ailing Captain, who was loosing strength. There was blood everywhere, on the Doctor and Captain. Will could not tell who was injured.
Deanna tapped her badge furiously. "Troi to sickbay, medical emergency in Captain's Picard's quarters." There was little more she could do until Will subdued Crusher, who was still resisting him. He had called to her several times, but she did not respond. She looked confused, lost, and angry - almost psychotic. Troi had completely blocked out the intense flow of emotions coming from her. Picard had slumped to the floor. Finally, Riker was able to get the knife away from Crusher, but not before he sustained minor cuts to his hands and arms. He held her tightly from behind, hugging her arms against him. Though uncertain of the situation, he did not want to hurt her.
Beverly began screaming. "No. No. No. No." The volume in her head was deafening. Everything was white - she could not see or hear anyone around her. She was weakening, but continued to fight against Riker.
Finally, a team from sickbay arrived. They took in the scene and were immediately confused. Troi pointed to the Picard. "The captain needs immediate attention." Two crewmembers in blue rushed by, and Troi turned to the third. "Doctor Crusher needs to be sedated immediately."
The young woman looked doubtful, but Crusher was clearly out of control. She loaded a hypo and pressed it to her neck. She immediately slackened against Riker, who swept her up in his arms and turned to make his way out and toward sickbay. He gave a stern and unhappy look to Troi as he rushed out. Deanna stood with her arms crossed as the two medics attended to Picard.
Sensing her question, one looked up at her. "We're stabilizing him. We need to get him into surgery." The woman who hade sedated Beverly tapped her badge. "Stewart to Selar. You're needed in sickbay immediately." Her tone was one of shock and confusion.
After a moment the Vulcan answered coolly. "Understood. I am on my way."
The team carefully loaded Picard onto a biobed and hurried off, Troi following closely behind. What in the hell was going on? What had happened here?
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