THREE'S COMPANY
Beverly Crusher took a sip of her wine as she studied the man across the table speaking so animatedly about his day. In spite of the strangeness of the situation, she thought that Odan was proving to be a good influence on Jean-Luc. He was relaxed, laughing and smiling, even rolling his eyes during his recounting of the tests that the Trill physicians and Starfleet Medical had conducted. All of the senior staff, especially her, had been subjected to extensive interviews with both Starfleet personnel and Trill representatives. Picard-Odan had been put through rigorous medical testing as well as investigative and psychological interviews. Throughout the process, she had been spending quite a bit of her off-duty time with him. It was hard to imagine Jean-Luc Picard enjoying a leisurely picnic on the holodeck and yet Picard-Odan had even dozed off while lying beside her on the blanket. He was still Picard; Odan had simply relaxed him, bringing out that wild, impetuous side of him that he worked so hard to repress. She had all of the best qualities of her history with Jean-Luc combined with the love she shared with Odan all wrapped up in one man. If it were possible to artificially design the perfect relationship, she wasn't sure this could be improved on in any way.
One major change in Picard-Odan was discovered when they'd tried to go horseback riding one afternoon. Odan had never experienced that before and it was an activity that Jean-Luc found relaxing. Unfortunately, the rocking motion now made him physically ill. He'd been disappointed but with typical Jean-Luc stoicism had simply tugged on his uniform jacket and suggested a leisurely stroll. Odan had also decided that the taste of Earl Grey tea was simply vile. Jean-Luc had vetoed Balso tonic which was Odan's personal favorite. They were taste-testing other beverages to find one that they both liked. She knew it was hard on Jean-Luc, that he was struggling to redefine himself. He didn't say as much in words; it was in the quiet times and the way his hand sought hers, especially when something he'd always found comfort in no longer seemed the same.
"The Trill Symbiosis Commission are none too pleased with this situation," Picard-Odan was saying. "They're terrified of anyone finding out that humans have the potential to be more compatible hosts than our own humanoid population. Of course since they consented to the procedure without consulting me, they have no one to blame but themselves. All of the connections between symbiont and host are strong and stable, everything in perfect balance. Their conclusion is that it was an anomaly, that the two of us were able to merge more easily due to my experience with the Borg. It reduced the mental resistance that would cause the release of neurotransmitters associated with autonomic rejection syndrome, which is what they expected to happen. At least they've finally finished poking and prodding me like some sort of lab experiment so tonight I feel like celebrating."
"Not to put a damper on your festive spirit," Crusher began, "but this does mean you can't avoid getting your physicals anymore. We'll need to monitor your body chemistry closely."
He refilled both of their wine glasses and then stood, extending his hand to her. "Feel free to examine my body any time your heart desires, my precious Doctor Beverly."
She felt herself flush. The taunting grin on his face along with that low, sexy tone of voice left no doubt that his invitation carried an erotic insinuation. They hadn't been physically intimate since the night that Jean-Luc and Odan had permanently merged into one. It wasn't that she didn't want him and the reaction of his body during even the most innocuous of touches left no doubt about what he wanted. It was awkward enough when she was physically intimate with Odan through Jean-Luc's body, but now she would be physically intimate with Jean-Luc just as much as Odan. As before, he was waiting for her to take the first step and she just needed more time to get comfortable with this new man. She accepted his proffered hand and allowed him to lead her over to the sofa.
"You broke your promise," Picard-Odan noted.
"What promise?"
He nuzzled and kissed the inside of her wrist tenderly. "No second thoughts, remember?"
Crusher sighed. The down side to the combination of Jean-Luc and Odan was that the two together could read her like a book. "I was asked a question during Starfleet's investigation that I can't get out of my head."
He sat his wine glass down on the coffee table and turned back to face her. "You can ask me anything, Doctor Beverly."
"Od-Jean-Have you decided on a name yet?"
"The Trill experts have been encouraging me to start thinking of myself as a single entity as much as possible. According to their tradition, my name would be Jean-Luc Odan; however, that would make me Captain Odan assuming that Starfleet decides to return command of the Enterprise to me. In my sessions with Counselor Troi, it's become clear that I identify most strongly as Captain Picard. I can't just ignore an entire part of my new identity, but the solution that feels the least objectionable thus far is Odan Picard. I would still be Captain Picard and given the more limited number of people who referred to me as Jean-Luc, it would be the easiest transition."
"That makes sense," she said. "All right then, Odan, they asked me if I thought you-the symbiont you could have or might have intentionally allowed this situation to come about because of me."
"What was your answer?"
His response was carefully neutral, she never knew from one minute to the next if Jean-Luc or Odan was going to come out of his mouth. Fortunately she trusted both of them and slowly she could see the lines between them blurring. It was starting to not matter which one they sounded more like. "I told them that I didn't see any indication in your behavior of an internal struggle between Jean-Luc and Odan. Jean-Luc wouldn't let this happen willingly and he would have been aware of your intent. In the short time I've known the Odan symbiont, I can't imagine you doing something like that. I even recalled you telling me that Jean-Luc would be back to normal in another eighteen hours when your new host arrived."
He reached out to brush a stray wisp of hair away from her face. "Then why does that question still haunt you?"
"Would the premature merging have happened if you and I hadn't . . . ?"
Pulling her to him, he wrapped his arms around her. He gently stroked her hair. "I wish I could say yes if only to erase the hurt in those beautiful blue eyes. The truth is that I don't know."
Nestled snugly against his chest, her hand rested on his stomach where she'd implanted the symbiont. "Did HQ give you any idea of when to expect their decision on your command status?"
He shifted, crossing his legs. "Of course not. They have given me permission to undertake a diplomatic mission on my own."
Crusher smiled against his chest. She had felt his body respond to her just before he'd changed position. All it would take would be to move her hand down a short distance for them to take this relationship back to a physical level. Instead she moved her hand up further on his torso, snuggling deeper into his embrace. "Oh?"
"There are a couple of planets where I've negotiated disputes," he said. "One is not really important, I just try to check in on them from time to time. The other planet is more critical. They're reaching a milestone in the time frame that both sides agreed to in the resolution and I really need to check on their progress. Starfleet approved my request to take my yacht to make those visits. If memory serves, you have some leave time that you could use."
He was asking her to go away with him, to leave the relative safety net of the Enterprise and be alone with him. She thought about it for barely five seconds, reaching up to coax his mouth down to hers for a kiss. "Do you think acting Captain Riker will approve my request for leave?"
...
Crusher stowed their bags in the aft sleeping areas. After a lengthy internal debate, she put his bag in his compartment and hers in the guest sleeping compartment. Taking the captain's yacht meant a bit more space than a Type II shuttle which did take some pressure off. She felt silly for her nervousness, after all she was a widow with a grown son and a doctor. Odan had already seen her naked and Jean-Luc had known her for most of her adult life-she had seen him naked as a patient over the course of her service on the Enterprise. She had already had sex with Odan in Jean-Luc's body so her reaction felt somewhat ridiculous. She was hardly some innocent, young ingénue and yet there were butterflies performing aerial maneuvers in her stomach nonetheless. In many ways this was a new relationship in its early stages, the getting to know you part, even though they all three knew each other so intimately already. She entered the forward compartment just in time to see the Starbase and the Enterprise fading into the distance. "Where exactly are we going?"
"Our first stop is Sefalla Prime," Picard answered, "actually their largest moon. They colonized it about a century ago. The colonists established two base camps early on with the goal of merging the two camps into one large colony as they built up the infrastructure. Unfortunately, the two camps became separate colonies due to a long-standing feud that neither side can remember the origin of. Hostilities began increasing in recent years, leading to bloodshed. I was asked to negotiate a settlement and try to help the colonies complete the original plan of unifying. Unification is a long-range goal with several incremental goals to be attained along the way."
Sitting down in the navigator's seat beside the pilot's station, she watched him laying in coordinates as he spoke. She had seen him in civilian clothes more in the past couple of weeks than in the decades that she'd known him put together. She hadn't realized how flattering the uniforms were until then with their snug fit showing the sleek lines of his body, not that she'd made a habit of ogling Jean-Luc. It was just that the shirt he was wearing hung a bit more loosely across his torso, hiding the fit, virile body beneath. The pants were a bit more snug although not as flattering as his uniform trousers. Realizing that she was staring, she spun around to examine the navigational sensors as if they were displaying essential information. "How are you going to explain your appearance?"
"They don't know about my symbiotic nature, very few people outside of Trill society do. It's simply a part of who we are but it can be difficult for others to understand," he acknowledged. "This . . . my situation is forcing the Trill Symbiosis Commission to brief the Federation on all of our sentient population. At least that will allow for engineers to reprogram transporters to accommodate symbionts during transport; that will certainly make life much easier for joined Trill."
"A little late for some," Crusher remarked sadly. If they'd been able to transport Odan's previous host after the attack on his shuttle, she might have gotten to him in time to save him. Those precious minutes that they lost before Riker managed to dock back on the Enterprise had cost so much. She had wondered over the past couple weeks what might have happened if she'd been able to save him. Would he have stayed onboard the Enterprise as her husband or would she have left the Enterprise to be with him? How would she have dealt with finding out about the symbiont under different circumstances?
Picard extended his hand to her, tacitly inviting her to come to him. Settling her into his lap, he stroked his fingers across her cheek with tender understanding. "I've lived so many lifetimes that I sometimes forget how painful loss can be for humanoids. I'm sorry. It's touching to know that he mattered to you so deeply but I regret the pain you feel."
She nuzzled the palm of his hand. It was surreal to be comforted by Odan for the loss of the man she knew as Odan. The funny thing was that this was the second time Jean-Luc was consoling her after the loss of a man she loved. He always seemed to be there in the darkest hours of her life. His hand urged her mouth to his for a soft kiss. She deepened the kiss, parting her lips in invitation. His fringe of sparse, gray hair tickled beneath her palm as her hand slid around his head to hold him tightly against her lips. She could feel the response of his body beneath her hip and her own body flared in answer. When she found herself seriously considering the logistics of this behavior continuing in the pilot's chair, she broke the kiss and returned to the safety of the navigator's seat.
"I'm sorry, Doctor Beverly," Picard said. "I know you need more time and I didn't ask you to come with me for that reason; I assure you. I just . . . I'm lost. I don't know if I'm going to be Captain Picard any longer and without my Starfleet career, I don't know who I am or what I'll do. I needed to get away; I needed this trip but I really didn't want to be alone with my thoughts. I asked you to accompany me because I needed your companionship and that's all I'm asking for. Holding you like that just felt so right, I allowed things to get out of control-"
"It takes two to tango," she interrupted his apology.
He shot her a wink and a grin. "Or three as the case may be."
...
The rest of their trip was spent in idle conversation including a hilarious experiment in performing a chemical analysis of Earl Grey tea and Balso tonic in an attempt to produce a beverage that combined the primary elements of each. Crusher wasn't sure she would have tasted it, but Picard had given it a try and promptly spit it out. Fortunately they both still enjoyed the taste of wine and Romulan ale-he'd brought a bottle of his precious stash along and they'd polished it off over dinner one evening. When they arrived, he'd introduced himself simply as a friend of Odan coming to check on their progress. Out of their Starfleet uniforms, they were merely concerned individuals stopping by as a favor to a friend since they were in the area. They landed the shuttle in the border region between the two colonies so that neither one had the 'honor' of hosting the guests. It was a much different approach to the situation than they would have taken if the Enterprise had come to check on them. Picard was different, well Captain Picard was using a different approach, it was probably the non-confrontational approach that made Odan such a skilled negotiator. Even having the inhabitants of the moons over Peliar Zel trade places to walk the proverbial mile in each other's shoes was a bit unconventional and yet had proven quite effective in achieving peace in the past. Where Jean-Luc commanded, Odan encouraged.
She took one last look in the mirror before heading to the galley to join him for breakfast. He was humming as he flipped one last pancake onto the stack he had already made. Gone were the days of a croissant and tea with sedate conversation. He still enjoyed a nice, leisurely breakfast to start the day, just more than a croissant with jam. She accepted the cup of steaming tea he handed her, sniffing at it. "What are we trying this morning?"
"Fanalian tea," he informed her, setting their plates on the table. He grabbed the utensils and syrup.
She picked up his cup of tea and followed him to the table. "Have you considered leaving the tea family and trying this beverage called coffee?"
"Bite your tongue," he chided good-naturedly. "There is something dignified about sitting down with a cup of tea that is simply timeless. There is a tea out there somewhere that my new taste buds will enjoy, I just need to find it. This one is certainly a contender, although there was also an entry in the replicator menu for a Fanalian toddy that I want to try as well."
It was good tea she had to admit. Taking another sip, it was easy to imagine herself having a cup of it every morning for years to come. It was rapidly getting easier to imagine spending those years with Odan Picard. "What's on the agenda today?"
Picard dabbed at his mouth with a napkin before he answered. "I'm taking a tour of the project that they're completing in this phase of the treaty. It's a joint mining operation, I didn't think that you'd want to be wandering around underground and looking at machinery so I arranged tours of their medical facilities if you're interested."
"I'd like that," she said. "Is there anything in particular you'd like me to assess?"
"I'd be interested in how equitable their facilities are," he suggested; "the quality of their equipment, the quantity of supplies, that sort of thing. This isn't an official Starfleet evaluation, just an informal visit to check on their progress. My primary concern is the vein of mineralogical resources that both colonies tapped into. That's what escalated their historic rivalry to bloodshed."
The mere mention of violence made her stomach turn. Losing Odan, the previous host anyway, had brought back the memories of losing Jack. Two men whom she had loved dearly and deeply had been taken from her through violence. She didn't think she could endure a third such loss. "Please be careful."
"I wouldn't have brought you with me if the hostilities were on-going," he assured her. "At least not without the Enterprise. I cannot imagine putting you in harm's way."
"If you get command of the Enterprise back, you may have to."
He sighed heavily. "I know, such is the burden of command. You are an incredible woman and I know that you don't need me to take care of you, but that doesn't deter me from wanting to."
'Or me from wanting you to,' she thought to herself. She had been alone for so long that she'd forgotten what it felt like to be taken care of. Obviously she didn't need it, she was capable of taking care of herself; it just felt wonderful to not have to. A cry of greeting from outside the yacht saved her from having to say anything. Their hosts had arrived.
...
Hitting send, Crusher stretched and checked the chronometer. She was curled up on the sofa in the main compartment of the yacht. Picard had called earlier to let her know that he would be busy with a project and would be late returning. While she waited, she had checked her messages, finding a communique from Troi ostensibly to forward a letter from Wesley at the Academy. The casual tone of the message belied its probing nature. Crusher had replied to thank Deanna for Wesley's letter and used the opportunity to fill her in on their location and the purpose of their visit. Everything was fine, she'd said. They would rendezvous with the Enterprise in a couple of weeks. In actuality everything was more than fine. She found herself waking up each morning eagerly anticipating the day. Hearing the hatch open, she laid the PADD aside and looked up, expecting to see Odan. Instead she saw a young man covered in grime and gasping for breath. Panic seized her. "What's happened? Where's O-Picard?"
"He sent me," the young man said breathlessly. "There's been an accident at the mine."
She rushed to the controls of the yacht, lifting off without bothering with the pre-flight. Under the young man's navigation, she maneuvered the yacht as close as she could to the mine entrance. The region was rocky, the mountains not allowing for anything bigger than an anti-grav loader within a kilometer of the entrance. Rapidly grabbing several emergency med-kits, she loaded the young man down with blankets and anything else she saw that might be useful. Unsure what she'd be dealing with, she was trying to cover any contingency. The medical facilities in the two colonies were adequate but hardly the state of the art facility she had in her Sickbay. Any seriously injured patients were taken to Sefalla Prime, assuming they survived long enough to make it there by shuttle. For Odan to send for her so urgently, the situation had to be beyond the colonists skills and resources. She'd experienced medical emergencies under worse circumstances in the past so she was confident that she could manage. Carrying as many med-kits as humanly possible, she followed the young man through the winding trail to the mine entrance. Inside, the first thing that she heard was Picard's commanding voice stridently giving orders, taking charge of the situation. It was a truly beautiful sound to her ears as she waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness enough to see. He had already spotted her and was making his way over to her by the time she saw him. She barely resisted the urge to throw herself into his arms.
"Doctor, a platform overlooking one of the shafts gave way," he told her. "Others were injured when they rushed to help. We've got the area stabilized for now. There are a couple dozen injured, some severely. Medical aid is on their way from the colonies, but you were closer."
"Can you get me more light?" Her relief at his being safe vanished as she began mentally assessing the medical emergency in front of her.
He gestured to several of the workers setting up large floodlights. "I've had the injured moved to this area. Water is on the way from the base camp. What else do you need?"
"Triage the injured with this," she shoved a medical tricorder at him. "The young man you sent for me has blankets, get some people to start covering the wounded. We need to keep them warm to prevent shock. I need to concentrate on stabilizing the most critically injured here so they can be moved to the hospitals and on to Sefalla Prime if necessary."
"Those two over there are in the worst shape as far as I've determined," he pointed to two men lying side-by-side.
One of the men had massive internal bleeding. The other man's legs had been crushed by falling debris. She checked the tourniquet cutting off the flow of blood from the femoral arteries. Satisfied that he wouldn't bleed to death in the next five minutes, she focused on the man who just might. This was hardly the place or conditions under which she would want to perform emergency surgery. Having seen the surgical capabilities of the nearest hospital, she knew his best chance was to be stabilized enough for the shuttle trip to the planet below. They could handle any infection later, right now she had to repair the primary damage to his internal organs.
"What about Helim?"
The question asked in a rough, accusatory tone from behind startled her. Without pausing in her work, she nodded toward the man with the crushed legs. "Are you talking about him?"
"Yes, why are you fixing Pravon first? They're both-"
"Helim is not going to die at the moment," Crusher assured him. "The tourniquets have stopped the bleeding for now."
"His legs . . . "
She finished the temporary repairs and closed the incision that she'd made, doing what she could to sterilize the area. Giving Pravon a hypospray of antibiotic, she scanned Helim's legs. This was one of the worst parts to being a doctor when all people wanted was a miracle worker. Triage in the field meant making tough decisions in order to save as many lives as possible. "There are a lot of injured and even if I had the time to devote to the repairs, I don't have the tools I need for vascular surgery. There's not much I can do; he's probably going to lose the legs."
"NO!"
Before she could even react to the vehement outburst, Picard was there. He restrained the man, holding him firmly but speaking softly to calm him. She took the opportunity to inject Helim with a sedative, he was semi-conscious but she didn't want him feeling any unnecessary pain. The fact was, whether she performed the amputation here or they waited until he was at a medical facility, the result would be the same. The yacht's replicator didn't have the schematics for micro-vascular surgical equipment and they didn't have anything nearly that advanced in either of the hospitals she'd seen that day. By the time they got him to Sefalla Prime, lack of blood flow would have caused the tissue to become necrotic.
"The other injuries are mostly broken bones and head injuries," Picard told her. "One man has a broken rib that's punctured his lung, but his breathing is stable. Is there anything you can do for Helim?"
She started to explain the situation and had an idea. "Earlier in the western colony I saw some artisans working on these incredibly intricate miniature mosaics. The tools they were using might just work for a vascular repair. How long would it take to get me a set?"
Picard thought. "I can get to the yacht, fly to the western colony and back. If I transport the tools directly to you, I won't need to waste time landing and getting back here on foot. Maybe an hour?"
Crusher scanned Helim and several of the men helping the wounded. "If I release the tourniquet, he'll start bleeding but it'll keep the tissue from necrotizing. I need you, him, him and him to give Helim blood to replace what he loses while we wait and while I perform the surgery. You four have compatible blood types to Helim here."
"They're westerners," the man fighting for Helim's legs argued.
"So are the tools needed to fix his legs," Picard reminded him softly.
The other men approached. "Does Pravon need blood?" one asked.
"Not at the moment," she said. "He's stable for now. We're wasting time, do I release the tourniquet or not?"
The westerners exchanged glances. The one who had asked about Pravon took off his shirt and sat down. "Release the tourniquet."
Picard nodded approvingly before rushing toward the mine entrance to get the tools.
...
Time seemed to stand still even though she knew that hours were passing. In the hour that passed waiting for the tools she needed to perform the surgery, she had taken a few minutes to treat the punctured lung and dispense painkiller to some of the more severe fracture injuries among the other wounded. With the help of the miners, she had also managed to create a crude operating room with a semi-sterile surgical field. She considered transporting him aboard the yacht, but micro-vascular repair on a moving shuttle, even with inertial dampeners on maximum, was a last resort. The other problem would be a blood supply. Here she had a long line of suitable donors all waiting for their turn to provide blood for Helim. Preparing and repairing as much of Helim's wounds as she could in advance, she wanted to be able to get right to the more intricate repairs as soon as the necessary tools arrived. It would also minimize blood loss for the young man; saving his legs wouldn't mean anything if he died in the effort.
By the time the tools materialized, the medical teams from the colonies were arriving. A doctor and nurse began assisting her, quickly sterilizing the tools and keeping the blood flowing steadily from one volunteer after another into Helim. The doctor began handing her the tools as she requested them, hesitantly asking questions as he watched her work. All around her they were moving patients onto stretchers to carry them out to vehicles that would transport them to the hospitals. She ignored the chaos, focusing on her patient and keeping up a running monologue on every step she was taking in order to educate the doctor about her technique. This surgery was basic and crude by her normal standards but more advanced than their current ability so teaching the willing student whom she had helping her meant others might benefit in the future. The tools she was using came from the colony so the only thing that she was really contributing to their medical capabilities was knowledge.
It was quiet when she finally applied the dermal regenerator to his skin. The only people left were those last few blood donors, the medical team assisting her and Picard. Everyone else had long since left. Watching the team prepare to move Helim, she took a long drink from the glass Odan handed her. He murmured for her to rest while he returned to the yacht and beamed her aboard. Some fresh air might be nice, but the kilometer walk seemed more like ten so she appreciated his suggestion. She nodded wearily at the enthusiastic accolades offered by the medical people about her surgery. The young man wasn't out of the woods yet. Recovery would take months but barring complications or infection, she was fairly confident that his legs would be fine. No one had died today; as good as it felt to save Helim's legs, the fact that no one had died was what made today the best kind of day any doctor could hope for.
Exhaustion hit her with the force of a tidal wave the second that she materialized inside the yacht. Picard was there and she was finally able to hold him, mindless of the layer of blood and grime covering them both. Those initial moments when she thought he'd been hurt and the relief that she'd had to put aside to take care of the injured were flooding back. Now, with everything over, all she wanted to do was have herself a good cry. All of her doubts, all of the fears that she was allowing to come between Odan and her felt like such a waste of time. After the events of the past weeks, it was ridiculous to not embrace every precious moment that she had.
"Well," Picard said drily. "If I don't get my command back, at least I know I can do disaster management or mining."
Closing her eyes, she rubbed her cheek against his. He was giving her a chance to pull back; trying to keep this moment from going too far given the emotionally draining surgery she'd just completed. She was filthy, covered in blood and beyond tired, maybe now wasn't the right time for a grand declaration of love. "Do you know what happened to the platform?"
His arm tightened around her shoulder briefly. "It wasn't deliberate. They've been having trouble with rock faces destabilizing around the platforms and equipment. The irony is that we were up on that platform looking at a modification I suggested based on a variation of Archimedes screw that might make the operation safe and more efficient. I only wish I'd known that particular feat of engineering when I was here before. It's funny, I never considered archaeology anything more than a hobby and certainly never thought it would solve a current problem. Once they get that built, it should eliminate these types of incidents."
Her head flew up when his words slowly registered beneath the fog blanketing her brain. She began fumbling for her medical tricorder. "You were-"
"Not seriously injured." He caught her hands, holding them in his and speaking in a soothing tone. "A few bruises when I leaped clear of the platform as it fell. None of my previous hosts have had the reflexes or agility that Captain Picard possesses. It's really quite exhilarating."
Pulling her hands away from his grasp, she cradled his head. Her eyes searched his, not caring any longer who was who in there. "I love you, Odan Picard. I need you, please."
He nuzzled the inside of first one wrist and then the other. "I have loved you and needed you since we met, my darling Doctor Beverly. As much as I would love to carry you to my bed and show you, we both need to clean up and sleep. I would rather not run the risk of you falling asleep during my display of adoration."
Laughing, crying and kissing him all at the same time, she allowed him to strip her clothes off and carry her into the sonic shower. They stood there, holding each other as the vibrations removed every trace of the past hours. Not bothering with clothes, they fell into his bed, their arms and legs intertwined and just slept. Three souls, two bodies and one heart.