Author's Note: Thanks for reading and thanks for the reviews! I'll be posting another Picard story soon. It's called Frighted Peace.
"I can do it myself!"
"Fine." Crusher let go of the shoe and got up off her knees. "But you don't have to wear them if you don't want to. We're not going anywhere."
Picard's hand reached down and picked up the shoe. "I can put them on myself," he said again.
He'd woken up in almost the same mental state he'd gone to sleep in, only now, he insisted on doing everything without her help. He'd managed to put on his clothes, and his socks, but the shoes were proving a little difficult. He sat on the floor next to his bed, struggling with them.
"I'm going to make something for breakfast," Crusher said, walking out the bedroom door. "Do you want anything?"
"No... Yes... I don't know," he sighed, abandoning the shoes and getting up off the floor. He followed her into the next room.
She was standing next to the food dispenser. "Two croissants and two glasses of orange juice," she instructed.
The items appeared and she picked them up and carried them over to the table. Picard joined her.
He stared down at the table top. "Beverly... I'm sorry. I..." He looked up. "I'm being awful, aren't I?"
She smiled and touched his cheek. "No. You're not being awful. You're just... frustrated. Deanna and I think you'll probably feel this way for at least a few more days. But the good thing is that we also think you may not experience any more episodes of true regression. Whatever happens, you'll probably be aware of what's going on."
He sighed and sank down into a chair by the table. "I'm not sure which I prefer the most."
Crusher squeezed his shoulder. "Well, I know which one I prefer. I like having you back."
He rolled his eyes. "Even when I'm...frustrated?"
"Even then," she whispered, kissing him on the forehead.
~vVv~
"Jean-Luc, you'll feel better if you take a hot bath."
"I don't want to."
"Do you want me to get Will in here and have him physically put you in the bathtub?"
'You wouldn't dare."
"Watch me." She turned toward the other room. "Will? Could I see you a minute?"
The tall first officer appeared in the doorway. He'd been overhearing the argument for the past five minutes and wasn't sure he wanted to get involved. He stared at Crusher, standing on one side of the bed, and then at Picard, standing on the other.
"Will, I'm having some difficulty talking Jean-Luc into a bath. Would you please-"
"Never mind," Picard interrupted, turning toward the bathroom. "I'll go take one myself."
The bathroom door closed behind him.
Riker sighed. "Beverly...don't get me involved."
"Sorry, Will, but you're already involved. He's just going through a mixture of the terrible twos and adolescence. Deanna thinks he'll hit full maturity in a few days."
"I hope so. I never know what mood I'm going to find him in when I come here. He's either angry or frustrated..."
"Don't you remember puberty, Will?" Crusher said with a laugh.
"No, I've worked really hard to forget it."
"Beverly!" The shout came from behind the closed bathroom door.
Crusher shrugged. "Duty calls." She left Riker standing in the doorway, went over to the bathroom and went inside.
Picard was sitting on the edge of the tub, naked except for a towel folded strategically over his lap. He looked up at her. "I don't have any soap," he complained.
Crusher opened a cabinet under the sink and pulled out a bottle of liquid soap. "While I'm here, why don't you let me scrub your back. It'll be relaxing. Relieve some of that tension that's knotting your shoulders."
Reluctantly, Picard nodded, and removing the towel, he carefully lowered himself into the water filled tub. Crusher sat on the edge where he'd been sitting. She opened the soap, lathered her hands, and then began to massage his shoulders and back.
He leaned into her hands and sighed.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" she asked.
"Um-um," he murmured.
"I won't tell you I told you so, but just remember to listen to me the next time I tell you you need a hot bath." She squeezed the back of his neck gently. And he smiled.
"I will listen to you always, Beverly."
"Good. Just as long as we know who's the boss around here."
He chuckled, and relaxed in the soapy water. "I have always known. I just forget every now and then."
~vVv~
She made suggestions, and he followed them. In fact, he did everything she told him to do for the next several days. And she began to worry. After all, she'd been expecting his attitude to get a little bit worse, before it got better.
"Why are you being so...agreeable?" Crusher stared at him as she placed a plate of meatloaf and broccoli in front of him. She knew that broccoli wasn't one of his favorite foods, yet he'd just agreed to eat it.
"You know best, Beverly." He smiled, picking up his fork and spearing a piece of the green vegetable.
She grinned, despite her concerns. "Granted," she agreed. She studied him carefully. "You're up to something. What is it?"
Picard sighed and looked up at her. "Beverly...I'm just ready to be well. Ready to be...me again. Deanna keeps telling me I have nothing to fear but myself. And she's right."
Crusher blinked. "Yes. She is right. I'm glad to hear you say that. I'll tell her you have complete trust in her. But what does that have to do with broccoli?"
"I have complete trust in you as well," he explained. "And if you think it best that I add broccoli to my diet, then I agree. And, if I do what you think best, perhaps I'll...recover just a little bit faster."
Crusher sighed. "You're almost there already, Jean-Luc. Broccoli won't make a difference."
He frowned slightly. "It won't?"
She shook her head.
He grinned. "In that case, I don't want any."
"But it is good for you."
He laughed. "You are hard to please, do you know that?"
She ran a hand along his cheek. "No. I'm not. Because I am very pleased with you."
"Even if I don't eat...the green stuff."
"Even if you don't eat it."
And he didn't.
~vVv~
He paced back and forth in front of his desk, and Crusher looked at him wearily. His pacing was making her tired.
"Jean-Luc, sit down before you wear yourself out."
He shook his head. "I'm just nervous, Beverly."
"I know. But you'll be all right."
He stopped and leaned against the side of the desk. "I feel like it's the first day of school."
She smiled. "In a way, it is. But you won't be the only student there," she laughed, elaborating on his metaphor. "That nice Will Riker is going with you."
Picard frowned. "Well, I wish he'd get here. We're going to be late."
"Yes, but you're the equivalent of the principal, so I think you're safe."
He exhaled a heavy breath, the line of his mouth creasing nervously. "Beverly...what if..."
She got up from her chair and went over to him; she took hold of his hands. "What if what?"
He shrugged. "What if...I forget?"
She shook her head. "You won't. You haven't had a regressive episode in over two weeks. And besides. Will is going to be with you the entire time. All three hours of it."
"This is very limited duty," he complained.
Her eyes widened in mock disbelief. "There's no pleasing you, is there? First, you don't want to go to school, and then you're upset because I won't let you stay all day."
Picard laughed softly at her expression, and then his own expression sobered. "I'm not upset." He squeezed her hands in his.
The door chime sounded, and a moment later, Riker entered. "Are you ready to go, Captain?"
Picard drew in a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "I'm ready, Number One." He smiled at Crusher as he let go of her hands. "Will you have milk and cookies waiting for me when I get back?"
"Oh, most definitely. After all, I'm sending you off to school without a lunch box."
She watched as Riker and Picard stepped into the corridor.
"That milk and cookies deal," she heard Riker say, "can I get in on that?"
~vVv~
Riker reported that their morning spent on the bridge had gone well. The crew had welcomed Picard, and the transfer of command had proceeded smoothly. He was back, and that's all there was to it.
Crusher was relieved. They all were. Even Starfleet accepted his medical reports with very little inquiry, as if they knew he'd gone through enough already. And if Beverly Crusher certified him fit for duty, then he was.
Picard reached out and picked up a cookie from the plate situated in the middle of the table. 'You know. Beverly, I was just kidding about milk and cookies."
"I know." Crusher eyed the first officer at the end of the table. "But I didn't want to disappoint Will."
"And he would have been disappointed," Troi agreed, picking up a cookie for herself.
They all laughed. Even Riker. And it felt amazingly good to laugh.
Picard leaned back in his chair, and looked at the people gathered around him. He was a very lucky man.
"I...I feel like I need to say something," he began.
Riker lifted an eyebrow, a cookie poised at his lips. "Is this going to be a speech, sir?"
Picard shook his head. "No, Will, something much simpler." He took a deep breath. "Thank you."
Crusher reached out and took hold of his hand. She answered for all of them. "You're welcome."
Picard smiled, and the four lights in his mind's eye winked out of existence.
~The End~