**************
1000 Ships
Five
"And I don't know how you show such gentle disregard, for the ugly in me that I see, for so long I took so hard."
**************
It cut her to the quick to see his bleary expression when he looked up. She hadn't wanted to have anything to do with this, but Marie's gentle persistence and her genuine love for Picard had eventually won over her better instincts. Seeing the task that lay before her in this drunken, belligerent man, she regretted her decision. At the same time she knew he deserved better than the hell he was living.
Clumsily he stood and bowed. "Doctor Crusher. Always time for you. Please, sit down." He gestured grandly to the seat opposite his. His eyes were dark and hard.
"Thank you Jean-Luc." She divested herself of the lightweight pink sweater she'd been wearing and sat, her eyes intent on him.
"Can I get you something to drink?" He did not wait for her response before waving to the bartender, who made his way over to the small, wobbly wooden table.
Beverly looked over at Jean-Luc and back to the young man who stood waiting. "We'll have two very large glasses of water, please." She shot a reproachful glance back over at Picard.
"I haven't seen you anywhere at Starfleet, Jean-Luc. Is this where you've been hiding?" Her eyes fired, daring him to answer her. Fighting with him wasn't going to be much of a challenge in his current state, but she wasn't about to let him off the hook.
"Oh I keep busy, here and there, you know. I can imagine you haven't been around campus much either, what with your husband and research to keep you busy." For a moment Picard's eyes cleared, as did his diction. Perhaps there was more vigor in him than Crusher had anticipated. Now that they did not flirt, they had reverted to the thing they did next best – fight.
Though she wanted to, she did not rise to his bait. Their parting had mostly been her doing – but she had plenty to feel angry about. This however, was not the time. Picard was in a tail-spin, and she would not sit by and watch this good man go to waste.
"This isn't like you, Jean-Luc." She traced the rim of her glass with a slender finger as she regarded him.
It was not, never had been, in Picard to play dumb. He only gazed back at her, his eyes unfocused. "Perhaps. But I took stock and found what had been like me wanting." He took another long drink. As he did his eyes openly followed a young woman across the far side of the bar.
"So you chose to find a new life inside a bottle and a skirt?" Beverly threw it down. Her own eyes blazed as the color rose in Picard's face. She jumped involuntarily as the glass he was holding shattered. He did not need to speak – his response was clear.
They stared at each other for what seemed an eternity before she stood. Their eye contact did not break as she slowly and calmly put her sweater back on. Each dared the other to look away, and neither would be the first to back down. He'd stood when she had, his bloody hand still clenched in a fist - but it was not at all threatening. Beverly could never feel threatened by Jean-Luc.
She crossed her arms and regarded him skeptically before tapping her comm. badge. "Crusher to Starfleet Medical. Two to beam directly to my office."
Reflexes slowed by the genuine alcohol and his rage, he had not seen her move coming. Even as he opened his mouth to object she shot out her hand and grabbed his arm. They both disappeared in a cloud of blue.
**************
As they winked into the office, she again bested him, quickly removing his own comm. badge before he could make any attempt at escape. "You're not going anywhere until we patch up that hand and load you up with a detox compound." Her tone was lofty, doctorly, and the decision not open for discussion. He eyed her warily. Why could she not leave him alone?
She had turned her back to him and was sorting through a drawer for the right equipment.
Finally recovered, Picard made a futile attempt to regain what was left of his dignity. "May I reminder you Doctor, that I am an Admiral. Our friendship has permitted me to allow you this much latitude – but my patience is wearing thin." He was indeed very angry with her. Could she not simply leave him to suffer in peace? It was bad enough having to deal with her absence, but her presence was far worse.
"Just for that, Jean-Luc, I am going to give you the detox before I remove the glass." She stepped forward and injected a hypo at the base of his neck. His mind cleared momentarily, but not before she had stepped back. Her sudden proximity had startled him, and for a moment he was too caught up in it to remember his anger.
As the haze of his drunk wore off, however, it all came rushing back. Without the numbing effect of the alcohol, his hand also began to throb. It was all a bit much, and far too embarrassing. Again able to think, he questioned Beverly as she assembled a tray to treat his injuries.
"How did you know where to find me?" His tone was accusatory, and the air between them popped with tension and unease.
"I have my sources." She was not about to tell him Marie had been spying on him – or worried about him. A man with Jean-Luc's ego could only take so much at one time. "Now sit down and be still." She spoke to him in the same tone she reserved for Wesley. She perched elegantly on her lab stool and he sat reluctantly on a nearby biobed. She took his hand gently and turned it palm up, moving a magnifying shield over it. She cradled in gently in her own hand, and Picard could not help but thrill at the touch. He had tried to substitute others, but there was none that matched hers.
Still angry at each other, neither spoke as she worked. The pain was intense, and though he took pains to show no discomfort, he had begun to sweat.
"Apologize and I'll increase the amount of local anesthetic." Her voice was even, and she did not look up from her work.
His tone was terse and exasperated as he replied. He was hardly in the mood for games. "I'm sure I don't know what you expect me to apologize for, Doctor."
"For trying to pull rank on me a minute ago." Still she did not look up at him. He winced as she removed a particularly deep-seated shard.
"By all means, I apologize. Just give me the damn drugs." He pulled his hand back swiftly and she finally looked up, startled.
Her eyes were steely and her jaw set. She spoke slowly and emphasized each word. "Apology accepted. Now put your hand back under the shield." She moved fluidly to take his wrist, but as she did so he resisted. They remained frozen for a moment, again challenging each other.
He'd had enough. Picard fired the first shot this time, and the last. "I think I prefer to see someone else to finish the procedure." Beverly recoiled at this, and let his hand drop. Her own stayed frozen for a moment in midair before she slowly brought it back down and neatly replaced the instrument she'd been holding.
For as long as she could remember Picard had always come to her for medical attention. He always loathed it, but he had always come to her. He hated doctors, but she knew that seeing her had taken some of the edge off it for him. She'd come to consider herself more than his CMO – she'd considered herself his personal physician. Foolish or not, she'd taken pride in that – Jean-Luc was hers, and every Doctor in the fleet knew it. Now he'd thrown that back in her face. Anything else she could overlook. But not this.
"I see." She set her jaw more firmly and willed the tears beginning to form in her eyes to recede. She had hurt him, and he was now simply returning the favor. This is how it would be.
No other words were exchanged between them as he grabbed his comm. off of the counter and stalked out of the office. Beverly sat motionless on her stool for almost 10 minutes before finally standing, gathering her things, and quietly walking out the door. The tears had spilled over her willpower, but inside she was calm. As much as it had hurt, she had gotten through to him. Though uneven, the score was settled. She knew the old Picard would return, and a small part of her was happy that she'd been able to reach him.
**************
1000 Ships
Five
"And I don't know how you show such gentle disregard, for the ugly in me that I see, for so long I took so hard."
**************
It cut her to the quick to see his bleary expression when he looked up. She hadn't wanted to have anything to do with this, but Marie's gentle persistence and her genuine love for Picard had eventually won over her better instincts. Seeing the task that lay before her in this drunken, belligerent man, she regretted her decision. At the same time she knew he deserved better than the hell he was living.
Clumsily he stood and bowed. "Doctor Crusher. Always time for you. Please, sit down." He gestured grandly to the seat opposite his. His eyes were dark and hard.
"Thank you Jean-Luc." She divested herself of the lightweight pink sweater she'd been wearing and sat, her eyes intent on him.
"Can I get you something to drink?" He did not wait for her response before waving to the bartender, who made his way over to the small, wobbly wooden table.
Beverly looked over at Jean-Luc and back to the young man who stood waiting. "We'll have two very large glasses of water, please." She shot a reproachful glance back over at Picard.
"I haven't seen you anywhere at Starfleet, Jean-Luc. Is this where you've been hiding?" Her eyes fired, daring him to answer her. Fighting with him wasn't going to be much of a challenge in his current state, but she wasn't about to let him off the hook.
"Oh I keep busy, here and there, you know. I can imagine you haven't been around campus much either, what with your husband and research to keep you busy." For a moment Picard's eyes cleared, as did his diction. Perhaps there was more vigor in him than Crusher had anticipated. Now that they did not flirt, they had reverted to the thing they did next best – fight.
Though she wanted to, she did not rise to his bait. Their parting had mostly been her doing – but she had plenty to feel angry about. This however, was not the time. Picard was in a tail-spin, and she would not sit by and watch this good man go to waste.
"This isn't like you, Jean-Luc." She traced the rim of her glass with a slender finger as she regarded him.
It was not, never had been, in Picard to play dumb. He only gazed back at her, his eyes unfocused. "Perhaps. But I took stock and found what had been like me wanting." He took another long drink. As he did his eyes openly followed a young woman across the far side of the bar.
"So you chose to find a new life inside a bottle and a skirt?" Beverly threw it down. Her own eyes blazed as the color rose in Picard's face. She jumped involuntarily as the glass he was holding shattered. He did not need to speak – his response was clear.
They stared at each other for what seemed an eternity before she stood. Their eye contact did not break as she slowly and calmly put her sweater back on. Each dared the other to look away, and neither would be the first to back down. He'd stood when she had, his bloody hand still clenched in a fist - but it was not at all threatening. Beverly could never feel threatened by Jean-Luc.
She crossed her arms and regarded him skeptically before tapping her comm. badge. "Crusher to Starfleet Medical. Two to beam directly to my office."
Reflexes slowed by the genuine alcohol and his rage, he had not seen her move coming. Even as he opened his mouth to object she shot out her hand and grabbed his arm. They both disappeared in a cloud of blue.
**************
As they winked into the office, she again bested him, quickly removing his own comm. badge before he could make any attempt at escape. "You're not going anywhere until we patch up that hand and load you up with a detox compound." Her tone was lofty, doctorly, and the decision not open for discussion. He eyed her warily. Why could she not leave him alone?
She had turned her back to him and was sorting through a drawer for the right equipment.
Finally recovered, Picard made a futile attempt to regain what was left of his dignity. "May I reminder you Doctor, that I am an Admiral. Our friendship has permitted me to allow you this much latitude – but my patience is wearing thin." He was indeed very angry with her. Could she not simply leave him to suffer in peace? It was bad enough having to deal with her absence, but her presence was far worse.
"Just for that, Jean-Luc, I am going to give you the detox before I remove the glass." She stepped forward and injected a hypo at the base of his neck. His mind cleared momentarily, but not before she had stepped back. Her sudden proximity had startled him, and for a moment he was too caught up in it to remember his anger.
As the haze of his drunk wore off, however, it all came rushing back. Without the numbing effect of the alcohol, his hand also began to throb. It was all a bit much, and far too embarrassing. Again able to think, he questioned Beverly as she assembled a tray to treat his injuries.
"How did you know where to find me?" His tone was accusatory, and the air between them popped with tension and unease.
"I have my sources." She was not about to tell him Marie had been spying on him – or worried about him. A man with Jean-Luc's ego could only take so much at one time. "Now sit down and be still." She spoke to him in the same tone she reserved for Wesley. She perched elegantly on her lab stool and he sat reluctantly on a nearby biobed. She took his hand gently and turned it palm up, moving a magnifying shield over it. She cradled in gently in her own hand, and Picard could not help but thrill at the touch. He had tried to substitute others, but there was none that matched hers.
Still angry at each other, neither spoke as she worked. The pain was intense, and though he took pains to show no discomfort, he had begun to sweat.
"Apologize and I'll increase the amount of local anesthetic." Her voice was even, and she did not look up from her work.
His tone was terse and exasperated as he replied. He was hardly in the mood for games. "I'm sure I don't know what you expect me to apologize for, Doctor."
"For trying to pull rank on me a minute ago." Still she did not look up at him. He winced as she removed a particularly deep-seated shard.
"By all means, I apologize. Just give me the damn drugs." He pulled his hand back swiftly and she finally looked up, startled.
Her eyes were steely and her jaw set. She spoke slowly and emphasized each word. "Apology accepted. Now put your hand back under the shield." She moved fluidly to take his wrist, but as she did so he resisted. They remained frozen for a moment, again challenging each other.
He'd had enough. Picard fired the first shot this time, and the last. "I think I prefer to see someone else to finish the procedure." Beverly recoiled at this, and let his hand drop. Her own stayed frozen for a moment in midair before she slowly brought it back down and neatly replaced the instrument she'd been holding.
For as long as she could remember Picard had always come to her for medical attention. He always loathed it, but he had always come to her. He hated doctors, but she knew that seeing her had taken some of the edge off it for him. She'd come to consider herself more than his CMO – she'd considered herself his personal physician. Foolish or not, she'd taken pride in that – Jean-Luc was hers, and every Doctor in the fleet knew it. Now he'd thrown that back in her face. Anything else she could overlook. But not this.
"I see." She set her jaw more firmly and willed the tears beginning to form in her eyes to recede. She had hurt him, and he was now simply returning the favor. This is how it would be.
No other words were exchanged between them as he grabbed his comm. off of the counter and stalked out of the office. Beverly sat motionless on her stool for almost 10 minutes before finally standing, gathering her things, and quietly walking out the door. The tears had spilled over her willpower, but inside she was calm. As much as it had hurt, she had gotten through to him. Though uneven, the score was settled. She knew the old Picard would return, and a small part of her was happy that she'd been able to reach him.
**************
