A/N: many thanks to FarmerLiz for early input and advice regarding this chapter
"After so long, you still insist on words when none will suffice?"
Picard spoke to Leo where she stood just inside the closed door to the ready room. Her office and position would soon belong to another, her future lay elsewhere, yet even now she required his reassurance as if none of it were her own doing. After the decision was made, after orders were processed and arrangements made, after her domain was no longer her own, she'd come not to say goodbye but hoping to be talked out of it, an engineered debate that would let her convince herself she'd made the right decision. It was absurd, and absurdly predictable.
"Oh hell, I'm sorry Captain, but I'm a product of that quaint age where words meant something. Forgive me if our history of silent implication isn't quite enough to convince me that the past five years meant more to you than adjustment."
What an evil display of pure bitchery she thought to herself as she admitted, deep inside, that he was right. Nothing would sound right or fitting, and for god's sake he'd already said and done more in the recent past than he could normally expect of himself, or she of him. But that relentless inner need must be fed... tell me you'll miss me, tell me it mattered, tell me I'm not the only one who'll experience the phantom pain. Knowing wasn't enough, believing wasn't enough. She wanted to hear the words, however much they cost him.
Picard took in her anger and paused for a moment to choose his words. He knew in his heart of hearts that she'd always require more knowledge than belief, more words than implication. She wanted to be capable of the latter on its own, he knew, but he also knew she'd never be so. He rose and went from behind the desk to where their own limits were all that separated them.
"I find it difficult to believe you don't know this already." His expression was both exasperated and amused. "Very well, then. I'll tell you in so many words that I'd be grateful to serve, to the last day of my command, in command of this ship, with this crew, with you," he indicated the office, still "hers" until the other arrived, "my constant and trusted support." Though he saw the challenge in his (former) AE's expression fade, he continued, "You aren't the only one who's been required to undertake leaps of faith. I undertook most reluctantly, as we both know, one of the largest leaps of faith of my career as you were preparing to transfer to this ship. How could I have known what great advantage," his expression now softened with a fond smile with which Leo wasn't exactly unfamiliar, "what unexpected delight I'd find waiting for me?"
As had often happened in the past Leo was humbled by her own abject stupidity. "I guess I stand corrected…" she muttered, "as usual."
They stood for the next moment regarding one another, remembering first impressions and acknowledging lasting corrections to them.
Done. She took a breath, and stood at attention.
"Request permission to report to Shuttle Bay One for departure to the Daystrom Institute."
Barely a flicker in his eyes; it was all she'd ever needed, really. "Granted."
She extended her hand then, expecting his firm grip in reply. It was their way, after all.
He surprised her when he took her hand and instead of shaking it bowed to meet it, brushing his lips against her fingers like a French diplomat and holding on then for a brief second longer before releasing her.
Releasing her.
"Captain, I…" She couldn't say his name, she was too close to the edge as it was. As she still reached for unnecessary words she knew he'd said it right already, no words would suffice.
So she fell back on the old ones. "You know where to find me if you need me."
A smile, a nod toward the viewport and the stars beyond. "As time and distance permit."
"There's no place that far."
The smile warmed. "Agreed. Dismissed, Lieutenant."
"Yes sir."
She turned smartly on her heel and strode briskly out the door. She flinched when it hissed shut behind her and pressed a hand to her eyes as she gulped a ragged breath.
"Ready?" It was Riker, who had the conn.
Leo looked at him uncertainly; he'd always known her better than she was willing to admit. "No. Yes. " She glanced over her shoulder. "As long as the door swings both ways."
Riker grinned as he rose from the Big Chair and went to where Leo stood. The turbolift door whisked aside when he extended his hand.
"This is the 24th century. Doors disappear at your command."
"Sorry, I keep forgetting. Data will be happy to remind me, though."
The bridge personnel, nobody she knew personally, thank god, stuck to their business. She knew the rest of the command staff would be in the shuttle bay to see her and Data off. God, could she hold it together for that?
Will noticed her hesitation and smiled sympathetically. He turned his back to block the view of the bridge crew and kissed her cheek discreetly before stepping back.
"Dismissed, Lieutenant," he ordered in full voice, then saluted smartly, old-Earth style, and added with a very Riker-style wink, "Knock 'em dead, Leo."
"With malice aforethought, Commander."
After the turbolift sped off Riker ordered, "Commander Tassaverde, take the conn."
"Aye, sir."
He rang at the ready room door.
"Come."
Will found the captain gazing out the viewport as he sometimes did when weighing his thoughts. Other people lost themselves in the endless expanse of the stars; the captain used them as a focal point.
"Ship's A.E. Lieutenant B'rok will report at 0800 tomorrow for initial meeting and orientation."
"B'rok?" The captain didn't turn from the viewport. "That's Vulcan, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Well thank god for that, anyway," Picard muttered, then offered aloud, "an ordered mind, that will be a refreshing change."
Riker suppressed a smile. Adjustment to change had never been the captain's strong suit, and this time it would be especially trying. "He graduated top of his Academy class."
The captain turned from the viewport and inquired in exasperation, "Don't tell me… only just graduated? At this late date they are unable to transfer an experienced officer? Is my ship to be the perpetual proving ground for Starfleet Academy's Administrative Program, and I its permanent mentor?"
The smile was no longer suppressed. "You can hardly blame them, Captain. After all, you did so well with the last one."
The Eyebrow rose abruptly, then fell.
Years together rendered Riker's "Permission to speak freely" silently requested and granted.
"There's no shame in a little separation anxiety. We're all feeling it." Riker was glad to see the captain's sardonic expression replace the thoughtful one.
"Thank you, Counselor Riker." Picard returned to his desk, then shook his head with an acerbic smile. "Will, would you think me mad if I said I'm feeling rather like a mother bird who's just kicked the fledgling out of the nest?"
"Not at all. My guess is they'll both be flying at warp speed in no time at all."
Caught out, Picard covered, "Anything else, Commander?"
The suppressed smile, patented for the captain's company, returned. "No, sir."
"Dismissed."
Picard went into the small office, just to be absolutely certain that it was ready for its next occupant, and was surprised to find a shapeless lump of something on the desk.
"What the hell…" He picked it up; it shifted squishily in his hands. Full of a fine, light substance, he considered what it might be as he held it this way and that, letting whatever was inside flow between his fingers, it seemed to gather warmth from his hands… soft fabric…
He snapped his mind back from its wander, and stared at his hands. "She must have forgotten it, whatever it is, I'll have it sent on."
As he slipped it into a storage unit beneath his desk he unconsciously squeezed it once or twice more. "Perhaps I'll get to that later." Then he hailed Deanna.
"Picard to Counselor Troi."
"Troi here, Captain."
"Please bring the Starfleet evaluations for Lieutenant B'rok to my ready room at your earliest convenience. I'd like to review them together."
"Yes sir. Anything else?"
"Factor in some extra time for other issues, if you would."
"Of course, Captain. Troi out."
Separation anxiety, Will called it. A nice neat name for such a complicated tangle of things. Picard smiled ruefully and accessed the personnel file of Lieutenant Leora Eileen O'Reilly, third of fifteen in the inaugural graduating class in Starship Administration, Administrative Executive Officer (transferred) USS Enterprise. Married, to Lieutenant Commander Data Soong, Second Officer (transferred) USS Enterprise. Distinguished Duty Commendation (thanks largely to Edward Jellico's aggressive recommendation) for performance during the Cardassian border dispute incident , A-2 crew review evaluation three years in a row. "2" because of a tendency, identified by Ship's Counselor Deanna Troi, to respond with anger to situations in conflict with her personal beliefs. While assigned to the Enterprise, developed particular skills in interspecies communication and diplomacy.
Picard mentally filled in some blanks unsuitable for the file… spectacularly foul-mouthed under duress, adept at affect management, displays an impressive aptitude for framing insubordination as compliance, harbors a dark talent for finding the back door and outside strategy for non-regulation situations. Curiously unskilled at poker but with a gambler's taste for risk and bourbon. All in all a valuable ally when the handbook has gone to hell. And quite possibly the most legendary friendship that he'd ever be unable to accept on its own terms.
Contemplating the hesitant, unsmiling face that stared back from the Academy file photo he admitted to himself… bloody hell, I am going to miss her.
"If you happen to discover a way to 'make it simple', Leora Eileen, I do hope you'll share the secret with me."
He switched off the viewscreen and got back to work.
