I'm woken by a rustling near my bed. I open my eyes, squinting at the brightness of the light.

"Good morning, Doctor," Selar's even tone begins.

"Good morning, Selar." I reply groggily.

"I'm here checking your vitals. Everything looks good so far. I'm pleased with the progress that you're making."

I chortle, "it doesn't feel like progress. I'm still bed bound."

She looks at me. "We'll try and fix that soon. Right now I need you to try and move your arms. The muscles will be stiff, but I've just scanned you and the bone has healed to 89% and I would like for you to regain your mobility as quickly as possible."

I'm excited at the prospect of regaining my movement. "How do you want to start?"

"Just see if you can lift your arms for me."

The movement is sore as I abduct the arm. But, the undertaking is also doable. Selar supports my arms lightly as I move them. "Good," she states plainly. "I'd like you to continue moving the arms. Again, I know that it's painful, but the pain will subside. I'll give you an NSAID to counteract the dull feeling."

"What about my legs?"

She raises her eyebrows. "I am getting there."

She reaches behind to the wall cupboard and pulls out a simple device. It's a long plastic stick with a rubber weight attached to the end. The plastic end is shaped into a point, albeit a dull one. It's called a reflex hammer. She uncovers my feet from the blanket. I look on, eager to see the results as she drags the pointed end in an upward fashion from my heel to the base of my big toe. She's looking for the Babinski sign – an indication of reflexes. What she wants to see is my foot dorsiflex and my toes to fan. I silently say a prayer to whatever power holds the Universe in check and I watch her perform the test. Sadly, my foot plantarflexes and my toes curl inwards. The reflex hasn't returned

"I am sorry," even a Vulcan can read the disappointment which is currently written all over my face. "But it is only your second day. The literature, as you know, indicates that it can take up to two weeks to regain full reflexes and movement."

I know she's right, but I so desperately want to get out of here! Selar senses my disappointment as she continues: "Doctor, make it your goal to regain full function of your arms by the end of today. Rudimentary senses like the urge to urinate will come back soon and once it does we will remove the catheter and we'll discuss sending you to your quarters. Right now, though, I want to keep you here for observation." I nod. Again, she's right. She's doing and saying everything that I would. But still, this knowledge brings me no comfort.

"I'll check back with you later."

I'm glad to have the function in my arms back. Now at least I can feed myself. Not a moment later, I see Jean Luc appear at my door.

"Good morning," he smiles. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did, yes," I blush a little remembering what I was thinking about when I fell asleep.

"And yourself?"

"Oh the usual."

I laugh, "so what 3 hours this time?"

"No – 4 actually." I love that boyish grin he gives me. I love when our banter is easy and playful. I've missed that.

"What have you brought for breakfast?"

"Want to guess?"

"Oh I don't know – it wouldn't be coffee and croissants would it?"

"Beverly, you know me too well."

"Or I've just had one too many breakfasts with you," but that's not the truth. The truth is that I never have enough breakfasts with him. I could eat breakfast with him for the rest of my life. Stop it, Beverly.

I reach up and pull my hair away. His face lights up as he sees the movement in my arms, "yes," I say, "Selar encouraged me to get my arms moving! It's just one more step to getting me out of here!"

"Now, Beverly…" he's still smiling as he sits down and lays breakfast out on the bedside table.

"Oh don't 'now Beverly me', Mister Never-Comes-Into-Sickbay-For-His-Physicals."

"Alright, you've got me!"
Breakfast looks delicious. I'm actually quite hungry this morning so I leave no room for feminine propriety as I dive right in, liberally buttering my croissant. I don't know why, but Jean Luc loves to watch me eat. He stares for a second before cutting his own open, "did you bring the coffee?" I ask with my mouth half full.

"Oh!" his eyes almost bug out of his head as he jumps up off the chair, runs out of the room, and comes back with the thermos and two mugs. I smile, "you can't forget the coffee."

He laughs, "Now you sound like someone we know."

"Kathryn?" Neither of us has ever met anyone who loves coffee as much as Kathryn Janeway. I knew Kathryn back at the Academy. We weren't in the same course, but I knew her through a mutual friend. She was addicted to coffee back then. I'd always find her sitting in the corner of the Night Owl, the Academy's coffee shoppe, cramming the night before an exam with a tall mug of black coffee cradled in her palm. I always felt drawn to Kathryn. She was endearing and fun (and we both have red hair).

Everyone thought that Voyager had been destroyed on their mission into the Badlands to capture the Maquis rebels. A few months ago, though, our own Reg
Barclay made a fantastic discovery: that Voyager hadn't been destroyed after all. I remember how fixated Reg was on that ship and that crew. He'd spend all his extra time trying to disprove the notion that Voyager had been destroyed. His persistence won out in the end and Starfleet was able to establish a data stream with Voyager. Sadly, though, a homecoming for that crew is still years and years away.

Jean Luc nods his head and smiles, fondly thinking about Kathryn. "Have you heard anything about Voyager?" I ask.

"Yes, in fact. I'd been meaning to tell you. But then, all this – well you know."

"Well?" I'm giddy to hear what he knows as I reach for another croissant.

"Well..." When Jean Luc is going to tell me some small piece of gossip he adopts the cutest post that's almost Deanna-esq. He hunches his shoulders and angles his body and the most ridiculous smile spreads across his face. He's such a little boy sometimes. "I heard that Kathryn Janeway married her first officer."

A bit of my croissant goes down the wrong pipe. I start choking and Jean Luc comes around to pat my back. I hold up my hand to tell him I'm ok as I take a swig of my coffee.

"What?!" I croak.

He sits back down across from me, "Yes and it gets better."

"Oh, Jean Luc, come on! Spill!"

"They're expecting."

"A baby!"

He nods his head as he swallows a morsel of breakfast. "Mmmhmmm".

"Oh, Jean Luc! How wonderful!" I'm happy for Kathryn. She deserves to be happy. Over the years she's had a hard time. Her father died along with her young fiancé and now she's stranded 70,000 light years from her home and family.

"Who's her first officer?"

"You're not going to believe this, Beverly: he's the Maquis leader she was sent to capture."

"You're joking. No." I am so flustered. "You've got to be kidding me. What's his name again?"

"Chakotay."

"That name sounds familiar."

He nodded his head, "that's because he went to the academy. One year behind me, in fact. I knew him briefly. He even taught at the Academy as an instructor when he graduated."

I take another bite of my croissant, this one loaded with both butter and jam – I'm really indulging this morning. "I can't believe it! What does he look like?"

He laughs at me. "So nosy, Beverly!"

I swat him playfully on the arm. "Deanna would understand. It's a girl thing."

"Not quite." He looks sheepish.

"Alright, spill." I have known Jean Luc for a long time and this was a first.

"Well..." he begins as he scans our surroundings making sure that his crew isn't going to hear him engage in idle gossip with his CMO. Coast clear. "Well from what I remember from the academy, he was a handsome young man. We didn't exactly know one another, but I of him – we were acquaintances. I knew that he was on the boxing team and he was quite close to Boothby – as Boothby also coached him."

"I didn't know that Boothby coached boxing."

"Oh yes – he's a man of many talents. Anyhow, I would see him in the gardens speaking with Boothby. He and I said hello from time to time. He was tall – only a bit taller than me. Dark skin. He's Native American, I think –"

"Well with a name like Chakotay…"

"Yes, so he was tall, athletic build, dark eyes, dark hair."

"Tall, dark, and handsome?" I jest.

"You could say that," he smiles as he takes a sip of his coffee.

"Well, Beverly, as much as I would love to stay – I have to get to the bridge. Shall I come by for dinner?"

"Mmm," I sound into my coffee cup.

I still cant believe it – not only is Kathryn married to her first officer no less, but the Jean Luc Picard just engaged in idle 'girl' talk with me. Today is certainly a day of firsts – and the day's not over yet!