Snow Falling Softly V
Shouts from downstairs welcomed Beverly Crusher to the morning.
"Where the hell is my good foil?" Andrew yelled.
"I don't know," came Allie's equally loud reply, "But I'm going to shove my foil up your ass if you don't stop screaming about it."
A little voice from Beverly's doorway observed, "I think that would only make him scream louder."
The doctor was already laughing as she opened her eyes to see Gracie standing shyly in her doorway. "Good morning," she said. "You're right. It would only make him scream louder. And neither one of them would end up fencing today."
Gracie giggled. By the time they got downstairs, Andrew and Allie had sorted themselves without resorting to weapons being placed in unwanted orifices. Allie was now running around making sure she had all her gear while Andrew shoveled bites of oatmeal into his mouth while working on a blade on the table. Counselor Troi arrived just as the group was scrambling out the door. Beverly indicated for her friend to join them. After a short walk into the town proper, they entered the fencing salle. Inside, they made their way to the competition floor. The floor stretched in front of them, holding ten competition strips, seats for spectators, tables for the bout committee. An armorer had a booth off to the side where equipment was checked and stamped for safety. Andrew and Allie darted out to join the other white clad fencers as they warmed up with jogs and drills. Gracie caught sight of the other younger siblings of the fencers and bounded off to play.
Beverly and Deanna found seats among the bleachers. "So how did last night go?" Deanna asked.
The doctor continued observing the activities on the floor. Tall windows encouraged the weak winter light to fall into the large room; a room that was becoming noisier by the minute as fencers moved from drilling to warm up bouts on the strips, setting off the buzzers with each touch scored. "Fine," she said.
"Did you manage to find your grandmother's journal?"
"Yes."
"Did you read it?"
"No."
"Are you going to give me anything more than one word answers?"
Beverly finally looked over at the counselor. "I will if you change the subject."
Troi raised an eyebrow at Beverly's forthrightness, then asked about the tournament.
That, Beverly could answer. "Today, they're both fencing foil. It's a team format, men's and women's, with the nearby colonies having sent teams. Allie told me they do this tournament every year and Caldos has yet to win. If you have any questions about how the scoring works when they start, I'll be happy to answer."
Troi nodded. The two fell silent as the competition began, looking like chaos to those unused to how fencing competitions tended to be run. Nine of the strips were in use, surrounded by clusters of fencers watching and cheering. "Why aren't they using the tenth strip?" Deanna asked.
"Oh, that's for the finals. It's why it's raised and directly in front of the bleachers." Beverly stopped when she noticed Deanna's attention drawn to the opposite side of the room. The doctor followed her friend's line of sight and found what had gotten her attention--Maturin had walked into the salle, accompanied by Jean-Luc Picard. Beverly cursed under her breath. She had a moment of hope that the two wouldn't notice her, despite the vibrant color of her hair. Then she had to give up that hope when Deanna waved them over. Picard and Maturin waved back in acknowledgment and navigated their way over to the women. When Picard saw Beverly next to the counselor, his face lighted up and he smiled. They met at the bottom of the spectator area.
"Good morning," Maturin said. "I was giving your captain a tour of the village today and I mentioned the tournament. When he told me that he was a fencer himself, I decided he needed to see the event."
Beverly fought her body's urge to start shaking as her brain starting into panic mode. If Jean-Luc stayed, he would almost certainly meet the three children. "I'm sure the captain has seen plenty of fencing tournaments," she said to Maturin.
It was Picard who answered. "It's been years since I've been able to watch a good competition. Maturin has been gracious enough to show me much of the village already."
"There are still outlying areas that are fascinating," Crusher said.
Picard turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "Beverly, it almost sounds like you're trying to get rid of me."
No, no, of course not. That's only exactly what I was trying to do. Out loud, she said, "You know me better than that."
The captain nodded, but didn't seem entirely convinced.
Maturin spoke above the din of the fencers. "I need to take my leave of you, Captain," he said. "My own duty calls me for the rest of this day. I think you will be fine in the company of Felisa Howard's granddaughter. The Howards make fine hosts."
In her head, Beverly cursed, a string of expletives she'd learned long ago in medical school, when her class was first confronted with the smell of real dead bodies.
Deanna turned to her and gave her a sharp, questioning look.
Beverly ignored it and bid the mayor farewell. They went back to their seats, the captain following, practically jovial. "Maturin said the fencing here today would be particularly good. The rivalry between the colony schools is very tense and leads to some highly charged fencing."
As they sat down, Picard took his seat next to the doctor. Beverly felt herself bristle at first, then managed to stem the reaction caused by her fear.
Deanna gave her another look and she ignored it. If the captain noticed the brief reaction, he didn't point it out.
"I know why I'm here," Picard said. "But what brings the two of you to a fencing competition?"
The doctor stared steadfastly in front of her, wishing the bleachers would split down the middle and suck her into a parallel universe, preferably one where she hadn't chosen to hide the presence of her children.
"Oh, you didn't know?" Deanna asked Picard cheerfully. "Two of Beverly's cousins are fencing today for Caldos."
The captain turned to the very still doctor. "Is that so? I didn't even know you had cousins here," he said. "I thought your grandmother was the only family you and Wesley had left."
Beverly supposed that technically, the last time they had spoken about the family left to her, Nana had been all that was left. "I didn't tell you about them?" she asked.
"If you did, I don't recall. And I think I'd remember something like that."
She didn't know what to say. Until this point, she hadn't directly lied to him. Certainly, she had omitted many, many things. And right now, she would have to give him the cover story about the three children, all while scared nearly senseless, and next to an empath who had already given her a couple significant looks. "Their parents died when they were very young," she said. "Nana's been their guardian." She covered her unwillingness to look either of her friends in the eye by searching the floor for Andrew and Allie.
"Yes, I would have remembered that," Picard said. "I'd certainly like to meet them."
He certainly would. Beverly felt another Betazoid look drilling into the back of her neck.
"Beverly, are you feeling o--." Deanna's question was interrupted by a five year old sized auburn haired distraction barreling up the steps of the bleachers.
"Beverly," Gracie said, stopping just short of plowing into the doctor. "Can I learn how to fence, too? I want to stab people like Andrew and Allie get to do." She brushed an errant clump of hair out of her eyes.
"Your grandmother said it's barbaric," Beverly told her.
"Andrew says there's nothing wrong with being a barbarian," replied Gracie.
"Did you know that Beverly fences as well?" Picard asked the child.
The little girl's attention flickered over to the captain and back to Beverly. "Who's he?" she asked. At the same time, Deanna shot Beverly another look.
"He," Beverly said, continuing to ignore her friend, "Is Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Captain, this is Gracie Howard, my youngest cousin."
"Hello," Gracie said, extending her hand.
Picard accepted it and shook it with equal seriousness. "Hello yourself," he said, then grinned.
She grinned right back at him. The scene in front of the doctor dug up both happiness at seeing those matching grins, seeing father and daughter meet for the first time, and knowing that neither had an inkling of their relation.
Gracie hopped up one more step and plunked herself next to the captain, then started in with questions. "How did you know that Beverly fenced?" she asked.
"Because I taught her how," Picard answered.
"I've never seen her fence. She hasn't fenced with Allie or Andrew."
Picard glanced over at Beverly. She saw the momentarily unmasked hurt in his eyes as he said, "She hasn't fenced in a long time." The statement was directed at Beverly, his voice tinged with some of the roughness she remembered. She could kill him--he knew exactly what he was doing.
Gracie, in her innocence, continued along, addressing the doctor. "Why don't you fence anymore?"
"Nana told me it was barbaric," came the quick reply from Crusher. Her quip caused the matching look of annoyance from the captain and Gracie. The doctor had managed to wiggle out of a direct answer for the time being.
Picard looked over at Gracie. "So who are Allie and Andrew?" he asked her.
"My older brother and sister. Well, cousins, actually, but I've lived with them and Nana since I was a baby and they're like my older brother and sister. Or something. They're twins." She searched the room for them to point them out, but it was hard to find them in the sea of fencers dressed in white knickers, jackets, and silver lames. "I can't see them right now," she said.
"That's okay," he replied.
The tournament continued as Gracie kept peppering the starship captain with question after question. For a man who claimed to be uncomfortable around children, he fielded Gracie's questions and unwavering attention with considerable aplomb. Normally, the girl would have run back to play with her friends after a few minutes, but she seemed quite fascinated with Picard. As for Crusher, she continued ignoring Deanna's decidedly pointed line of questioning regarding her current emotional well-being. Becoming exasperated, the counselor asked the captain to watch Gracie and dragged Beverly outside for a few minutes, citing a need to give hear ears a break from the noise.
The doctor felt trapped. She couldn't run and it seemed her friend was bound and determined to figure out what was wrong. Deanna's question confirmed it. "Beverly, please tell me what's going on. The emotions I'm sensing from you are all over the place. You're angry, then you're incredibly sad, and what I don't understand is that most of the time, you're afraid. What are you afraid of?"
Beverly reached out and scooped a handful of snow off the railing of the steps that lead up to the salle's entrance. The midmorning sun had softened it just enough that it clumped together easily. She manipulated it with her hands, grateful for the distracting bite of its cold. "I can't tell you."
The counselor reached out with her hand, gripping the doctor's upper arm with a surprising strength. "It's tearing you apart, I can feel it."
Beverly squeezed the snow in her hand, feeling the carefully crafted ball begin to dent from the pressure of her fingers, the same fingers that had just made it now causing its demise. "I know."
"You've got to--." Deanna was cut off by the door suddenly swinging open and Gracie running through.
"Beverly! Deanna!" she said. "You have to come back inside, they're starting the finals and Caldos is in them." Then as quick as she'd run outside, she ran back in.
Troi frowned. "We'll speak about this later," she said.
Of that, Beverly had no doubt. Deanna went into the building before her. Once she was out of sight, the doctor threw the remains of the snowball onto the walkway below, watching it splatter with a certain satisfaction. It wouldn't be that easy for her to get out of this situation. She was more certain that she couldn't get out of it at all. Jean-Luc showed no signs of wanting to abandon her company, nor did Deanna. Gracie assuredly would object if Beverly picked a fight with Picard and drove him away within the next few minutes. No, she'd have to face it, and deal with whatever happened.
Inside, she found Gracie speaking with Andrew, who had taken off his jacket. "I thought Caldos made it to the finals," Beverly said.
Andrew looked up. "The women's team did. My team got thrashed." His face told her exactly how unpleased he was about his team taking third and not advancing to the final round of the direct elimination table. Gracie patted him on the hand as if to comfort him. In reply, Andrew stuck his mask on her head, making her yelp in outrage.
"It stinks!" she said, ripping it off her head and chucking it at her brother. Andrew easily caught it and put it away in his bag.
"Of course it does. Where do you think all my sweat goes?" he said.
She glared at him, then stomped back up the stairs and sat next to the captain.
Andrew chuckled. "It really is too easy with her," he said, following his little sister's movements. Then he noticed who she sat next to. "Isn't that Captain Picard?" he asked Beverly, who hadn't moved since she'd walked in.
"Yes." Of course Andrew would notice. And soon, he would meet him.
Andrew frowned. "How long as he been here?"
"All day. Maturin brought him and then Jean-Luc decided he wanted to stay and watch the competition."
The boy raised an eyebrow. "You're on a first-name basis with him?"
She sighed inwardly at her mistake. "We've known each other for over twenty years, I'd hope so."
Andrew nodded, then told her he was grabbing a quick shower before he joined them to watch the finals. Beverly made her way back up to their seats, noticing Deanna watching her intently. The doctor chose to sit next to Gracie, putting some space between her and the counselor and the captain.
Gracie smiled at her when she sat down and pulled Beverly closer so she could whisper into her ear, "The captain asked me if the boy you were talking to was competition for him. I told him no, it was our cousin. What did the captain mean?"
The doctor held in a laugh when she saw the tips of Picard's ears turn red, Gracie's inability to whisper striking again. Beverly whispered into Gracie's ear, just as loudly, "Why don't you ask him?"
Picard's eyebrows raced up his forehead as laughter escaped from Deanna. "I was merely confirming whether or not the young man to whom you were speaking was indeed your cousin," the captain said quite formally, as he did when trying to regain lost dignity. He was saved from further explanation when the finals began.
Each team consisted of three members and the event was run in a relay-type format, first team to 45 touches. Each bout was scheduled for 3 minutes or to five touches, whichever came first. Once one team reached 5 touches, the next to opponents would step onto the strip. So, after the first bout, one team with have five and the other some number less than five. The second bout would go to a score of ten touches, with one team only needing five touches and the other having some sort of difference to make up. This made for exciting fencing near the end, as the scores could be incredibly lopsided, such as 40 to 25, and a particularly good fencer could catch the losing team up to the opponent and tighten the match. Beverly explained the scoring system to Deanna.
As the director gave the first command to fence, Andrew came quietly up the stairs and sat next to Beverly. Surprisingly, Gracie stayed in her seat between the doctor and the captain. The little girl worshipped her older brother and almost always bolted to sit next to him whenever possible. Andrew made no indication of wanting introductions and waved a quick, distracted hello as he watched the bout intently. From the corner of her eye, Beverly saw that Jean-Luc and Gracie watched the bout as intently, while Deanna watched the three of them with the same intensity.
The Caldos team held the left side of the strip. Andrew kept a running commentary throughout the match. "Mackenzie isn't watching her distance," he said. "She's going to run herself right onto their tip."
And she did. "Touch right," said the director. Andrew swore, as the opposing team had reached five touches to Caldos's two.
"Where's Allie?" Deanna asked.
"She's anchoring the team, so she'll fence third," he said, attention still on the strip. He swore again. "Why's Cait fencing? She's the fourth, what happened to Mairi?"
"Twisted her ankle," Gracie supplied.
Andrew flashed a glance over at her. "How did you know?" He held up his hand. "Nevermind, I don't dare ask." The boy shook his head. "Cait's way out of her league, she's got to be nervous as hell. I hope Allie's able to keep her calm."
Below, the two fencers danced along the strip, both defensive and not making any committed attacks. "Second intention," both Andrew and Picard said at the same time.
As if she'd heard them, the Caldos fencer executed the exact move. Touch left. Once Cait had gotten that first touch, she seemed to find confidence and managed to get Caldos up to 9 touches. Allie stepped onto the strip. Andrew didn't make as many comments about his sister's fencing until Picard said, "I think she's forgetting her distance."
Andrew shook his head. "No, she's messing with tempo. She's setting up for a backbeat and then she'll fleche right from that. Works almost every time. Once she gets into the right distance, it's damn hard to stop." Allie then did just that. Andrew gave a shout of approval.
"I'd just like you all to know that I have practically no idea what you're talking about," Deanna said. "The most I understand is when the director says 'touch left' or 'touch right'."
"That's okay," Gracie said. "That's the important part anyway."
The match continued. Andrew and the captain now traded comments as it progressed, arguing over points of strategy and finesse. By the end, both of them were on their feet when the match went to 44-44. Allie and her opponent saluted each other for the la belle bout. As they fenced, Andrew said, "Bet you she does her move again. She might not, though, the other clubs have basically trademarked it to the both of us. But if Allie can draw her into the right distance, I don't think she'd be able to stop it."
"I agree. Even knowing that the attack is coming, if the distance is right, it would be too fast to stop," Picard said.
"Now!" Andrew shouted as Allie scored the touch with her trademark attack. The Caldos team swarmed onto the strip to celebrate.
Gracie stood up. "Captain, I have to introduce you to your competition."
Beverly snorted with laughter as Picard's face turned a slight red.
"And who might that be?" the captain asked.
Gracie rolled her eyes. "Captain Picard, this is my brother Andrew. Andrew, this is Captain Picard. Since you two have been talking for the entire match, I thought you should know each other's names."
Andrew shook the captain's hand then looked at his younger sister. "Competition?" he asked.
She shrugged. "Beverly said to ask the captain."
Andrew looked expectantly at Picard, his eyes as mischievous as Gracie's. "Sir, what are your intentions towards my cousin?" he asked.
Gracie clapped a hand to her mouth. "Oh!" she said.
Beverly looked down at her. "What?"
The little girl motioned for her to bend down. The doctor knew whatever Gracie would say, most likely it would be embarrassing. "I think he likes you," she whispered.
This time it was Deanna who snorted with laughter.
Beverly cursed under her breath. Suddenly, it seemed like a good idea to go outside for some air. "You can talk to him about it," she told Gracie. "I'm going to go outside for a moment." She looked at Andrew. "Meet me outside?"
He nodded. "I'll go tell Allie." He held his hand out towards Gracie. "C'mon, kid."
Gracie took Picard's hand. "Now I have to introduce you to my sister," she said, leading him down the stairs. Beverly gratefully left them behind and exited the room, taking a short walk around the building. The snow crunched softly under her feet, now hardening again as the sun had been hidden by moisture-laden clouds. The silence wrapped around her, as comforting as an old blanket.
"You're running away from something," Deanna said from behind her, ripping away the blanket.
"Yes," Beverly couldn't deny it. She kept walking, wishing Deanna wouldn't follow.
The counselor caught up to her, fell into step beside her. "You don't want to talk about it?"
"I do, actually," the doctor replied. "But I can't." She stopped walking and leaned against the building.
Troi's brow furrowed. "The captain's very concerned about you."
"I know." Beverly dug her toe into the snow under her feet.
"I think he's also very taken by Gracie," she said.
The pang of fear shot through the doctor before she could control it.
"There," Deanna said. "That fear again."
Beverly closed her eyes. She heard Deanna's footsteps, coming closer, stopping just in front of her.
"Beverly, who are they?" Deanna asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.
The doctor kept her eyes closed. The longer she kept them closed, the longer she could avoid looking her friend in the eye, the longer she could keep everything from coming apart. She bit her lip.
"They're yours aren't--." The counselor let the question go unfinished as they both heard the voices of the children and the captain coming around the corner.
"What's this boy's name?" Andrew was asking.
"I'm not telling you," Allie replied.
The group came around the bend. Gracie shot forward and hugged the doctor around the legs. "Allie likes a boy," she said.
"Does she?" Beverly asked, opening her eyes. Deanna had stepped aside to let Gracie near her the doctor.
"I do not," Allie said, defensiveness creeping into her voice. "He likes me. I don't know if I like him."
"I don't know if I like him," said Andrew, frowning. "I haven't heard good things about him." He shifted the long fencing bag on his shoulder. "We should go home and get lunch."
"Do you feel like you need to protect your sister?" Deanna asked.
The simple question caused both Andrew and Allie to burst into laughter. "Allie has beaten up more boys than I have," Andrew said, then got serious. "I just tend to want the best for the people in my life, is all. And I don't think I like this guy."
Allie rolled her eyes. "Before I know it, you're going to turn into some overbearing Neanderthal," she said.
"I prefer the term 'barbarian'," Andrew replied.
"Well, barbarian," Allie said. "Maybe you need to brush up on your skills so that next time, both Caldos teams can take first."
Andrew glared at her. "Fine. Maybe I will pay this boy a visit."
Allie glared back. "You wouldn't dare."
"Is that a challenge?" he asked.
Beverly smiled at the lighthearted exchange, one fraught with the familiarity of arguments constantly underway. The banter continued as the group made their way towards the cottage. Gracie had taken the captain's hand and was chattering away. Deanna sidled up next to Beverly, the two of them bringing up the rear of the group.
"I don't want to talk about it," Beverly said before Deanna could say a word. Above them, the clouds began to release their hold on winter, and tiny flakes of snow floated lazily around them.
"It's snowing!" Gracie shouted, bringing a soft chuckle from Picard.
"Andrew and Gracie," Deanna said, so softly that no one but Beverly would be able to hear, "Have the captain's eyes."