Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek: Voyager or Star Trek: The Next Generation, nor do I own the characters used here. I've taken them out for a little fun but I promise to return them when I'm finished.

Author's Note: I never imagined, when I posted my scraggly little one-shot 'The Promise of Love', that my muse would have such a vivid and intensely immediate reaction to the idea of how Kathryn and Beverly came together. I've read a lot of stories with this pairing and I love them all, so I thought I'd capitulate and add my ideas to the collection. I'll be updating this story in between posting stories for my Birthdays In the Delta Quadrant series. I have no beta, so all mistakes are mine.

Author's Note Two: This is lovingly dedicated to Nova and Claire, who are evil and wonderful and inspire my Kate/Bev muse.

Stardate 57138.83
Starfleet Headquarters

=/\=

It's been a long day and she's still got another three reports to read over before she can even think about heading home. There's a cup of coffee cooling in her hand as she stares at her computer screen, and she takes absent-minded sips from the cold liquid as she reads Captain Jensen's report on the repairs he requires after his latest run-in with a cloaked Romulan ship; relations are still rather frigid with Romulus after the Shinzon affair and Captain Jensen's altercation isn't the first of its kind. She's been getting almost weekly reports that the cloaked ships patrolling the Neutral Zone aren't terribly friendly, but they've always called off the attacks before the Federation ships are seriously damaged. In her mind, the Romulans are still embarrassed over what happened and are trying to reassert themselves as a powerful species. It's damned annoying, if she's honest, to continuously hear of damaged ships and injured crews.

She goes to take another drink of her coffee and realizes that the cup is empty. Groaning softly, she pushes her chair back and stands, twisting her neck this way and that to work out the sore muscles. It's a futile effort though, so she abandons the task and heads to her replicator. This one doesn't hate her as much as the one in her Ready Room did; she's gotten what she asked for except that one horrible time when an unexpected power surge made the machine produce twelve cups of an Andorian tea. Patting the replicator as she leans down to order, she's stumped when the blasted thing stays dark.

"Coffee, black," she tries again, her brow furrowing in confusion. She tries three more times before she throws her hands upwards and huffs, stomping back to her desk. She's almost there when she sees the glow from her computer go dark and that stops her dead in her tracks.

"Computer, are all systems functioning properly in this office?" she asks, the silence annoying her even as a noise from the other side of her office door makes her hand slide to the phaser she keeps taped under her desk; it's a habit from Voyager and she's not relaxed into life on Earth enough to change her ways, even though she's been back for over a year. Thumbing the safety off, she straightens up and raises the phaser slowly as the noise gets closer to the door. She's steadily waiting when the door slides open and she's greeted by a raised eyebrow.

"Are you intending to shoot me, Admiral Janeway?"

"If you're responsible for my replicator's refusal to give me coffee, then I just might be, Doctor Crusher."

She lets the phaser drop at the sound of the laughter, but her expression is still vividly angry as she points to her computer and says, "And I suppose you're responsible for my computer dying too, right?"

Beverly Crusher doesn't even have the decency to look apologetic, and that just fuels Kathryn's anger even more. The tall doctor, who Kathryn's never really spoken to but knows of through mutual acquaintances, steps fully into the office and nods, a smug smile forming as she crosses her arms over her chest.

"As a matter of fact, I am. You're late for your physical, Admiral."

"My physical? You just sent a reminder yesterday! You've cut my access to my replicator and my computer over being one day late to my physical?" Kathryn squawks, her eyes widening as Beverly shakes her head.

"No, I cut off your access to your replicator and your computer for being four hundred and nine days late to your physical. You were supposed to report to my office for your physical over a year ago, Admiral, and I finally spoke to the Doctor about how to get you in to see me."

"Oh I'm sure he had some wonderful ideas, didn't he?" Kathryn rasps, angry and feeling a little more than betrayed by the EMH. 'I'll have to stop in and have a little chat with him,' she thinks, and she's still so upset that she almost misses what the doctor says next.

"I agreed to give his idea a try, though I do have to tell you that I have a plan in place to apologize for all of this. All you have to do is let me do your physical and I'll treat you to dinner and a trip to the theater."

Kathryn's eyebrow lifts and her head tilts as she stares at the doctor, trying to decide if this is a trick. Finally deciding to trust the head of Starfleet Medical, she tosses her hands up and sighs.

"Fine. I'll report tomorrow for my physical," she says, but Beverly shakes her head.

"I meant tonight, Admiral. Now."

She's always considered herself a quick thinker but it takes Kathryn a few seconds to formulate a response.

"Now as in right now? It's almost seven thirty at night," she blusters, her eyebrows climbing higher with each word. Beverly just shakes her head and smiles serenely.

"Our reservations are in an hour, Admiral, and I'd prefer not to have to reschedule. I had to make the calls over a month ago, so let's stop by 'fleet Medical for your physical on our way to your apartment so you can change," she says and Kathryn notices for the first time that the doctor isn't in uniform; she's wearing a stunningly divine black cocktail dress that's doing wonders for her legs.

"Fine. I'd hate for a good meal and a decent show to go to waste," Kathryn huffs, gathering her coat and briefcase as she heads for the door. She's two steps past Beverly when she stops mid-stride and looks over her shoulder in amusement.

"You've been plotting this for a month?"

Beverly's laugh carries down the hall as they make their way toward the lift.