AN: Here's another little piece to this one. I'm super committed to this one, now. LOL
This is a little birthday gift for a reader (who may not wish to be named, but knows who they are). Happy Birthday, and here's a little extra Picard/Crusher to read! LOL
I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!
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"If you'll allow me a PADD, I can help you get everything ready for the shift," Beverly offered. "I'm tethered, not incapacitated." She laughed quietly at her own joke and held up her hand for emphasis. It would not have been her first choice for how to spend a portion of her day, but the moment that she handed herself over to Dr. Cindy Moran as a patient, she became just that. Beverly was the young doctor's superior when it came to other medical decisions, but Dr. Moran now held the ability to make decisions about Beverly's readiness for duty, at least in so far as her medical care went.
Beverly knew she was dehydrated. She'd also suspected that a steady diet of mostly bread, in various forms, and tea probably hadn't delivered adequate nutrition to her body since the nausea had started in earnest a couple of months before. Still, she'd run the gamut of every anti-nausea medication she could think of, and the best she'd gotten was mild relief from her symptoms. She'd decided that "some" nutrition was better than nothing, taken the vitamins that she could stomach through hypospray, even though she knew they weren't being fully absorbed, and she'd soldiered on.
She'd figured she'd be fine, and the baby would be fine, and eventually the morning sickness would ebb for a final time and not return. When that happened, she'd do her best to drink sufficient amounts of fluids and to eat a healthy diet to make up for what she'd missed giving the baby before. Dr. Moran, it seemed, had some other thoughts about her situation, and Beverly was currently tethered to a drip that was delivering her intravenous fluids and nutrients.
She was, admittedly, already feeling better than she had been, so she wasn't too inclined to argue against Dr. Moran's chosen treatment.
"There's nothing for you to do, Doctor," Dr. Moran offered. "I've got everything set up and, now, I'm just doing a little research."
Dr. Moran was young, but she was enthusiastic. She was also personable, and she had a wonderful bedside manner. Beverly imagined that she would go far in her career, and this was a great place for her to get her start. There was often nothing more than the quiet routine of caring for Starfleet personnel and their families, which allowed for a lot of time to pursue personal research, interests, and opportunities for advancement, but there was also the opportunity to occasionally learn a great deal in a hands-on environment. Sometimes, there were crises that needed to be attended to, new germs and such to study picked up on newly-encountered worlds, and the chance to study alien physiology up-close and personally.
Dr. Moran, it seemed, was just as excited about her very first opportunity to watch a pregnancy from start to finish, as she might have been to study a before-unknown life form.
She had treated Beverly gently, she'd examined her thoroughly, and she hadn't asked her anything that wasn't her business. She had asked, only in the vein of trying to make Beverly comfortable, if there would be anyone joining them—someone to hold her hand or to share in the experience with her—and when Beverly had informed her that she would be doing this alone, she'd dropped that particular thread of conversation entirely. She had scolded Beverly about some of her medical decisions, but that was to be expected. The old adage about doctors making the worst patients wasn't born out of nowhere, after all, and Beverly knew that she'd been somewhat neglecting her health.
Sickbay was quiet at this time of the day. Beverly should have taken over her shift by now. She had relieved the previous shift and called in Dr. Moran to examine her. She'd contacted the young nurse that would have been working with her, and she'd let him know that there was an irregularity in the shift change today. He would be contacted when he was needed. Nobody had come in or out so far, and they weren't likely to come in for a while unless there was an unexpected accident or emergency, and Dr. Moran remained in temporary control of sickbay—refusing to turn it over to Beverly until she'd sat dutifully in the comfortable chair designated to her and absorbed the slow drip of nutrients and fluids that had been prescribed to her.
Beverly was about to offer to help with Dr. Moran's research when the door to sickbay slid open and she found herself jumping at the unexpected sound. Her stomach discomfort had ebbed, but it came back with a bit of a vengeance when she saw that it was Jean-Luc who walked in. As he entered sickbay, and as Dr. Moran's view drifted over to him and she recognized who it was, the young doctor straightened up from her half-leaning position on the edge of a table, and she took a stance of attention. Beverly stood and followed suit.
"At ease," Jean-Luc said without much formality. He appeared distracted and, honestly, maybe even a little frantic. There was clearly something on his mind, and he was at least a little stirred up. Beverly felt like she could practically sense that something was throwing him off-kilter. He wasn't composed in the normal way that he usually was—especially not when everything on Enterprise was, at least to the naked eye, calm and under control. Jean-Luc came straight to Beverly, and she sat back down in her chair. Even if she'd wanted to flee, she'd have to disconnect herself from her medical tether—and she was honestly feeling a bit better with the nutrient-rich fluid flowing into her body, so she wasn't too anxious to abandon it before she got the full effect. "You are not well?"
Beverly flicked her eyes toward Dr. Moran. She found the young woman watching without apology and without effort to conceal her interest. Some people had far fewer dealings with the captain and, as such, they still saw him as something almost like a celebrity. There was a bit of awe from simply being in his immediate presence, sometimes.
"I am following the advice of my doctor," Beverly said. "Thank you, Captain, for coming to check on me, but it's entirely unnecessary."
She thought he narrowed his eyes at her, but it was a quick movement before he changed his expression and turned to Dr. Moran with interest.
"I waited for your report," he said. "The fact that it has been tardy in arriving led me to believe that there has been some concern with my Chief Medical Officer. I would like to hear what you've found."
Dr. Moran, though technically "at ease," tensed a little in the presence of Jean-Luc. His tone was stern, much more so than it needed to be, and Beverly imagined that might be adding to Dr. Moran's anxiety. As captain, and therefore the person responsible for the lives of everyone on the ship and, to some degree, every decision that was made on the ship, he was entitled to know her medical information in so far as he could justify that it could impact his decision-making process—and that was always easily justifiable. Beverly simply nodded her head at Dr. Moran when she caught the young woman looking at her for guidance or, more than likely, reassurance.
"Dr. Crusher is in the first trimester of pregnancy with an entirely-human baby," Dr. Moran said, reading from her PADD and, likely, from the report she was composing. "The baby appears to be developing normally, and Dr. Crusher's pregnancy appears to be advancing normally. However, Dr. Crusher is suffering from severe and persistent morning sickness that has proven to be resistant to all previously attempted treatment. Dr. Crusher, herself, is currently suffering from dehydration and a mild case of malnutrition."
"And you are currently resolving this issue?" Jean-Luc asked.
Dr. Moran nodded.
"The Nutralide drip will deliver enough nutrients and fluids to Dr. Crusher to temporarily relieve some of her malnutrition and dehydration problems," Dr. Moran said. "In the meantime, I am researching some drugs that she hasn't tried previously, which may help with the persistent nausea, even though they are not typically prescribed for morning sickness."
"Drugs which will be safe for her to take in her condition," Jean-Luc said, leading Dr. Moran more than asking a sincere question.
"Of course," she said. "Every decision will be made with the safety and well-being of both of my patients in mind."
"Excellent, Doctor," Jean-Luc said.
"Captain," Beverly said, her face burning warm. She wondered what Dr. Moran was thinking, but she didn't dare try to read anything beyond the anxiety that the young woman wore on her face—she was unaccustomed to being so readily addressed by the captain, "I appreciate you coming to check on me, but I assure you that I'm no more in need of your attention than any other crew member."
"You're the only one of my crew members currently under active medical supervision," Jean-Luc said, a half-smirk on his face. "As you can see, Doctor." He gestured vaguely around him to indicate the currently empty sickbay. Beverly thought of pointing out that she'd rarely—if ever—seen him visiting people in sickbay, not without some very particular interest in their condition, but she decided against that. "In addition, your current condition and course of treatment requires that adjustments be made to the duty rosters and shift schedules. I needed to clarify that, and make sure of the changes that need to be made prior to ordering that they be made in any particular way."
"I'll be able to take over soon," Beverly said. "And I'll work part of Dr. Moran's shift to make up for the time that she's currently spending covering mine."
"You'll do no such thing, Doctor Crusher," Jean-Luc said quickly. Beverly felt somewhat taken aback.
"You're not dismissing me from my duties," she said. She realized, as soon as she said it, that what she'd meant to sound only incredulous came out as also a bit challenging.
"I came to tell you that, prior to reporting to duty," Jean-Luc said, "I will expect you to report to Counselor Troi. I've already informed her of the impending appointment, and I've informed her that I will require her clearance before granting you the permission to take over sickbay."
Beverly felt enough heat rise up in her face that she was certain it must be visible. She glared at Jean-Luc, and he raised his eyebrows in response to her. He looked almost amused, and that only made her face grow warmer.
"With all due respect, Captain," Beverly started, purposefully holding her tone as even as she possibly could, "I am pregnant. I do not require counseling."
"You will agree, of course, that health is holistic in nature, Doctor," Jean-Luc said. "As such, we all know that one's physical health is intimately tied to the inner-workings of their psyche. A pregnancy is, arguably, something that could disrupt the health and well-being of someone…could it not?"
Jean-Luc directed his question to Dr. Moran. She agreed, looking only a bit owl-eyed. Jean-Luc smiled at her, quickly, to show his approval of her readiness to agree with his assessment of things.
"Therefore, just as I'm requiring medical clearance for you to be declared fit for duties in your current condition, Doctor, I will expect clearance from Counselor Troi prior to allowing you to take over your duties once more." He raised his eyebrows at her like he sensed the challenge that was bubbling up in her. "The health of my Chief Medical Officer ultimately has the potential to affect the health of every other person on my ship, Dr. Crusher. I expect every aspect of that health to be cared for in such a way as to ensure that everyone aboard my ship can rest assured that their top physician is in the best condition, in every way, to provide them with the best possible care that Starfleet has to offer."
Beverly bit the inside of her mouth.
"Dr. Moran shouldn't be scheduled for two consecutive shifts, Captain," Beverly said, "and she's currently covering my shift."
"Of course, she shouldn't," Jean-Luc said pleasantly. He was smiling. He was pleased with himself. He was pleased with this whole situation. "Dr. Moran—do you mind covering the rest of this shift in exchange for the shift you were slotted to work? I will have the schedules rearranged for the rest of the day, and I'll be sure that you're on your normal rotation tomorrow."
"That will be fine, Captain," Dr. Moran assured him.
"Very well," he said.
"May I go now?" Beverly asked. "I can easily take this with me and work Dr. Moran's shift for her when everything meets your approval, Captain."
She knew he wouldn't appreciate her tone, but she wasn't exactly appreciative of everything he'd said and ordered—orders she had to follow. He smiled and quickly swallowed it back.
"If Dr. Moran clears you to complete your treatment elsewhere, then I certainly have no objection. I'm no doctor. However, Dr. Crusher—you are relieved of duty for the day. Following full clearance, you may resume your duties tomorrow. You needn't feel rushed in your session with Counselor Troi. I asked her to make herself open and available for whatever time you may need. If you find there's anything you'd like to discuss, please feel free to contact me. I am always happy to make myself available to the concerns of my Chief Medical Officer."
Beverly stood up to collect what she would need to finish the treatment in Deanna Troi's office.
"Aye, Captain," she offered, tossing the agreement over her shoulder and trying her best not to let him see the anger and frustration that she knew had to be written all over her face. She took her time, making sure to give Jean-Luc enough time that he would have no excuse not to leave sickbay before her—and to give him enough time and distance that he wouldn't offer to walk with her to Deanna's office. She wasn't ready, in this moment, to walk with him, but she also wasn't sure that she was prepared to refuse.