I really honestly did not think that it was humanly possible to be this bored. When I was younger, there was always something to do. On Caldos, Nana was always sending me out into the forest to collect plant life. Or, I helped her in the clinic, learning about natural healing methods and making due without the comforts of modern medical devices. At the Academy, it was non-stop. I did the command/medicine track. I was up at 4am for physical training and back in my dorm at 6pm to do work and get as much sleep as I could. When I think about it, my life has been on the go. I got married right out of the Academy and then not 1 year later I had Wesley. Jack died 6 years after we were married, when Wesley was only 5. I still regret that time now that I look back on it. I had always known that there was a possibility that Jack could die; that's the risk you take with joining Starfleet. But, when he actually died, I was taken by a complete surprise. In true Beverly form, I evaded all the normal steps of grieving. I had a son to support and I had to be strong for him. Yes, I broke down in my bed at night, or sometimes in the shower. But to deal with my grief I buried myself in my work and my son.

But do you want to know something? I don't think I've really ever admitted this my self before. I think that the worst part of Jack's whole death was when Jean Luc pulled away from me. It's not as if he and I were overly close after the wedding, but he and I still talked. He still came over to our home to see Jack and Wesley and we would chat. Sometimes, if he and Jack weren't on a mission together, he would call ahead to the house if he couldn't reach him in order to see what time he'd get home that evening and if it was alright if he dropped by for a little. And you know what I did? I would always tell him a time earlier than when Jack would indeed get home. Just sometimes, I wanted him all to myself. I told myself it wasn't cheating – he was just a friend. But I knew down in my heart of hearts that most of those nights, if Jack hadn't walked in on time, I might have kissed him.

See, this is why I hate being stuck in this hospital bed: not only am I frustrated that I can't move and that I still have a catheter inserted in my urethra, but now I have all this extra time where all I can do is think about the one man who I have never and will never be able to have – despite anything Deanna might've said to me earlier.

That's it! I push the alert button on the side of my bed and not a moment later Alyssa walks in, "Alyssa, could you please give me something to do? Other than that fact that I can't move my legs, I am a perfectly able to look over reports. Would you mind?"

Alyssa smiles and jokes, "why Doctor I thought this would almost be like a vacation for you!"

"Not quite. The natives are getting restless."

"Well if you're sure you're up to it, we do have a good amount piling up because of what happened on the planet. I'll go and get you a stack and you can work away to your heart's content. Also, what do you want for lunch?"

"I'm not hungry, Alyssa. Just the reports."

"Oh no. The only way that you're getting the reports is if you eat lunch."

"What am I four?" I roll my eyes.

"No, just stubborn." That's the truth.

"A turkey sandwich – and my reports."

Alyssa broadens her grin, "aye aye ma'am".

Not five minutes later, Alyssa returns with a turkey sandwich, a glass of water, and a big fat stack of padds. Inwardly I sigh, no more thoughts of my almost infidelity or my unrealistic relationship with my boss.

There leaves a lot to be desired with replicated food – this sandwich especially. The technology has made a lot of advances over the past 100 years, but still there is nothing better than real, cooked food. We have a galley on the Enterprise, but no one ever uses it because we have the convenience of replicators. Still though, when I get home the first thing I like to do is stop by the grocery on my way back to my apartment. I love looking at the selection of fruits and vegetables, spices, milks, yoghurts and handpicking exactly what I want in order to cook a meal. It's always been very satisfying, even if I'm still no good at it.

Goodness, these reports are no better than my own boredom! Well, at least it's something to do until dinner. Dinner with Jean Luc – you know I'm actually nervous this time? Well, I've been nervous other times as well. Three years ago, his body was taken over by an alien consciousness. I should have known that something was awry when he came down to Sickbay for a physical all on his own. But, there I was – just so damn infatuated with the man that I was just glad to see him come into Sickbay and comply with me. Then that night he asked me to dinner. I must have spent two hours getting ready. I painstakingly chose the right earrings, the right dress, and the right shoes. Dinner had been ridiculously romantic – harbinger number two that something was wrong. Jean Luc would never have been so forward with his emotions towards me. And then he asked me to dance. Whatever alien this was had done a good job of getting to know Jean Luc's crew members – he knows that I can resist dancing. I am a dancer, after all. But then, it was so anticlimactic! After all the wining, the fine dining, the dancing – I was ready for a little action. Truth be told, I got my hopes up. I remember the way that my heart rate sped over the legal limit, my respirations increased, and I started sweating. I was so aroused he could have taken me up against the wall. And then you know what happened? He said goodnight and practically shoved me out of his quarters. That night still doesn't make sense. But, in hindsight I'm grateful that we didn't make love. If we had and it hadn't really been Jean Luc there would have been so much awkwardness and so many questions. No, no as much as I wanted him to make love to me, I am exceedingly glad that nothing happened. Well, not nothing… He did kiss me. That was nice – nice enough to be fodder for my fantasies.

"Can I come in?"

My head snaps up, was I dozing off? There he is. There's that smile. He's brought dinner. He's even not wearing his uniform. He really is a handsome man! Tonight he's wearing black slacks and a black sweater. Black is his colour. I think I told him that once. I can't remember. Unlike his uniform pants, which he drowns in (which we all drown in), these are fitted. They're not tight by any means, but they give a nice hint of what's underneath – and that in itself if quite impressive. The sweater is collared, with a ¼ zipper coming down from the top. It's not zipped completely, giving a wonderful view of his strong clavicles.

I think I'm staring, "Hello Jean Luc." Is that my voice? It sounds so breathy. Snap out of it, Bev. "What's for dinner?"

He holds up a bag with containers of food in it. He has a smile on his face as he arranges two plates on the table along with cutlery and napkins. I smile as I watch him. His movements are very purposeful – even when setting a table. I wonder where else they might be just as skilled, "so are you going to tell me or am I going to have to wait?"

"So, impatient, Beverly. You'll find out in 1 minute." He smiles. He likes to tease me. It's our subtle way of flirting without really crossing the line.

I fiddle with the plate as he pulls out dinner. It smells amazing, like cilantro and basil. "Will's grandmother's lasagna," he says proudly as he serves me a generous portion. He knows that when it comes to me with food, he should never be abstemious. He also knows what a sucker I am for Italian.

"Jean Luc this is amazing," I say, as I take a bite. Tonight I'm hungry and I'm forgoing the propriety of waiting for him to sit down as well.

He looks amused, "I'm glad you like it." He settles back into the chair, curled up with his plate. He watches me for a few moments and then he similarly digs in. "Mmmm!" he exclaims with his mouth still full of food. I give him that knowing glance as I take another bite, "this is excellent," he manages. "I'll have to thank Will for the recipe."

"So," I swallow the bolus, "how was your day?"

He nods his head, "good, good. No complaints. The warp plasma manifold had to be recalibrated and that took a little time."

I take a sip of water, "did you get it fixed?"

"mmhmm" his mouth is still full of food. He swallows hastily, "we've finished negotiations on the planet, but we'll stay in orbit until we've been assured that the fighting has truly ceased."

"And how were the negotiations."

"Better than I expected. Apparently the fighting that broke out when we were there was not sanctioned. The leaders of the two sides truly did want to come to a compromise. Did you know that there were over one million casualties in that conflict?"

"Jean Luc that's horrible. But I can imagine; with what we saw I thought it might have been as much, or more."

"Yes," he adds somberly. "Well," he looks up trying to created a cheerier atmosphere, "how about yourself – how has your day been?"

My day? Should I even bring up the conversation with Deanna? Is this the right place to have this conversation out?

I'm beginning to feel a small tingling in my toes and a slight dull ache in my bladder. Tomorrow morning, when Selar checks my reflexes again, I'm expecting a positive Babinski. But even if there isn't (please let there be a positive Babinski!), there's still no harm in having this conversation, right? I mean, it's not ideal. I'm laying in a biobed and I haven't had a proper shower in 6 days… but we might never be alone like this again and he's been so different lately… ach what the hell?