Jean-Luc met her in the shuttle bay, waiting for her as she disembarked.
"You disobeyed a direct order, Commander," he said peremptorily, addressing her by her rank rather than her title. Standing stern and forbidding, he was every inch her commanding officer.
Beverly drew herself up before him. "Two orders, sir," an impish rogue of devilry within her prompted her to reply, although she said it without any trace of humor so he would understand she was fully aware of the seriousness of what she'd done.
His frown deepened. "Two orders," he echoed. Then the glittering hazel eyes softened fractionally. "More importantly, I nearly lost a valued member of my crew."
Had she imagined it, or had his voice just then sounded a little deeper, a little rougher, than it had before? "I'm sorry, Captain," she replied formally. She knew there was no going back from what she had done. His orders had been very clear, and she had disobeyed them. Repeatedly. She had let him down, and for that he needed to know that she was truly sorry.
"So am I, Doctor. You placed yourself in great danger and put me in a very difficult position." The words were those of a superior officer, but the pained look on his face was that of a friend.
"I understand, sir. My resignation will be on your desk within the hour." That would at least spare him from having to bring her up on charges of insubordination on top of everything else. She drew in a deep breath, gazing around her. She was going to miss the Enterprise, there was no question of that. She'd miss her friends among the command staff, her colleagues in sickbay, the adventures, the medical challenges – and the man standing before her most of all.
The one great benefit of having focused on the mystery of Dr. Reyga's death for the past few days was that she hadn't had any time to dwell on the gaping hole that Jean-Luc's absence was going to leave in her life. Or on everything that he had come to mean to her. Yes, it was good she hadn't had time to dwell on that at all.
But she didn't regret what she'd done. She had uncovered a murderer and righted a terrible wrong, and now at least could once again look Jean-Luc in the eye. She could leave the ship with her head held high. It had been worth it for that.
And at least she was already packed.
Much to her surprise the captain shook his head. "There will be no charges pending against your record, Doctor, and no talk of resignation. But understand –" he held up a warning finger, "if I thought you had done this for personal gain, or to prove a point, you would not be remaining on this ship."
Beverly stared at him. Remaining… "Then –" her voice trailed off uncertainly. Could she really stay?
"Go get cleaned up, Beverly. I'll send a report to Starfleet Medical and see to it that you're reinstated as soon as possible." He nodded his dismissal and started towards the turbolift.
Beverly stared after his retreating back. Despite everything that had happened – you disobeyed a direct order – he was still willing to let her stay. Relief and gratitude flooded her heart. But then her conscience prodded her. "Jean-Luc!"
He arrested his steps at her call, waiting as she hurried to catch up with him.
As she drew near she took a deep breath. With Guinan's help she'd reaffirmed something vital about herself today – that she wouldn't shrink from searching out the truth, wherever it led and whatever the personal consequences might be. "I appreciate your faith in me, Captain," she told him formally, sincerely. "But you need to know that I can't promise something like this won't happen again."
He held her gaze for a long moment and then gave a sharp nod. "Understood."
Beverly was incredulous. "You say that and yet you're still willing to have me back?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
His gaze softened. "Because some people are irreplaceable."
Beverly frowned. "Are you saying that personally, or are you saying that professionally?" she asked. She wasn't trying to commit career suicide, really, but Jean-Luc was her dear friend as well as her CO, and she needed to be absolutely sure he was making this decision for the right reasons.
"Both."
Oh. She hadn't expected that answer to her question. And now that she had it she wasn't sure what to say. To deflect the deepening intensity of the moment she took refuge in humor – an easy reach, as now that she knew she was staying she felt more lighthearted than she had in days. "Is that an admission you're fallible, Captain?" she gently teased.
But he refused to rise to the bait. "We're all fallible, Doctor. No one can predict every possible outcome or prepare for every eventuality. But as the captain of this ship, I trust in the team that I've assembled."
"Always?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.
He nodded solemnly. "Always."
#
