Picard was sitting in the observation lounge, the rest of the senior staff having filed out not long before. Will had been called down to one of the shuttle bays and had missed the meeting detailing their upcoming mission.
"Welcome back, Captain!" He offered Picard a friendly grin.
"Welcome back yourself, Commander. I trust that your shore leave was restful?" Will looked at him confused.
"I heard you and the Doctor made it down to the surface last night." Will wondered how Picard had come by his information. He didn't believe it had come from Beverly.
"I wouldn't go so far as to call it "restful." Chasing off Beverly's admirers…. Let's just say that I'll be the one to pick the activity next time." Seeing Picard's quizzical look he elaborated. "She wanted to go dancing."
"Right…. Well, I'm sure that the Doctor enjoyed herself at any rate. Let's reconvene in the ready room in 15 minutes to discuss how best to approach this situation on Laslo II. There are some points that I wouldn't mind your input on."
"Yes, Sir." Will shot him a warm smile before he headed back out onto the bridge.
He'd not often had occasion to be jealous of Beverly since Jack's death. He couldn't imagine why he was feeling envious now, but he'd finally recognized what was bothering him as he'd lain awake long after Nella had fallen asleep last night.
There was certainly no reason for him to feel jealous of Will and Beverly, he reiterated to himself. They simply did not have that sort of relationship. Besides, he told himself as he gathered up his PADDs and headed out of the observation lounge, his heart was engaged elsewhere. He was in love with Nella, and they were making their relationship work despite their separation.
He desperately tried to force away the niggling doubt that had been eating at him since the last breakfast he'd shared with Beverly before leaving the ship, the morning he'd announced his shore leave. He'd been wilfully ignoring that she'd not shared his morning meal with him again before he'd beamed down to Tarsis.
No, choosing to continue his relationship with Nella had not been a mistake, he reiterated, trying to root out the uncertainty that had persisted in plaguing him for over a week... He was back on board now, and he and Beverly would revert to the status quo. There was absolutely no reason for him to be jealous, and certainly not of Will Riker.
The briefing and strategy discussion pertaining to their upcoming mission to Laslo II took less time than either man had anticipated. Having worked so long together it wasn't all that surprising that they were in agreement on most of the major points regarding the diplomatic talks and the security concerns.
Indicating that he would immediately review the plans for the mediation summit with Worf, Riker heaved himself off the chair and made for the door. He paused, however, just before triggering the sensors to exit Picard's ready room. The older man looked up from his console.
"Is there anything else, Commander?"
"You should drop by 10-Forward tonight, Sir. We've got a new talent joining us on piano." Riker winced, knowing immediately that he'd managed to say the wrong thing. He hadn't meant to remind the man of his absent partner. He scrambled to recover.
"We've been practising some new material as well."
"We'll see, Commander. I've a lot of time to put in on the maintenance logs from the repairs after our run in with that Terelian vessel last week."
"You should make the time, Sir. The crew miss seeing you out and about. It's good for morale." It would do you some good as well, he barely restrained himself from adding as he departed.
—-
"William Riker, absolutely not. We've already had this discussion and you know where I stand."
Once his discussion with Worf had been concluded and he'd agreed to incorporate some of the Klingon's security suggestions into the mission plans, Will made his way to Sickbay for a different yet more challenging round of negotiations.
"But Beverly, just this once if you could..."
"And if you keep asking, you'll be looking for another pianist as well. I agreed to help you out until Lieutenant Beralis returns from leave. That's it."
"I don't get it. You're a performer, Beverly…"
"Not anymore, and you'd be rethinking performing too if it had been used as a way to undermine your professional reputation and standing."
"Beverly, that was a long time ago. No one would dare EVER do anything like that to you now!" She shot him a disbelieving look.
"Probably because we'd never find the body," he muttered.
Seeing her eyebrows rise he realised he'd actually managed to compliment and insult her in a single breath. Damn it! Beverly's caustic wit and loose tongue was rubbing off on him…
How no one on board knew that Beverly could play the piano was a mystery to him. Then again only a handful of senior staff members knew she could dance and there was actual documented proof for fairly prestigious awards in her records….
He'd been even more shocked by her voice. Low, sultry and sexy, it was just the right pitch for a jazz vocalist. More than that though, her tone was intuitively conversational and flexible like she'd been born to it. If only he could convince her of that as well.
In the days and weeks that had followed Will's return from the mission to Tilonus IV he'd spent a lot of time in Deanna's office as she helped him come to terms with the psychological torture he'd endured on that planet. He'd also, however, spent many evenings in Beverly's living room as he sought to escape and decompress.
Sometimes they'd talk but often they'd watch old movies, usually of Will's choosing. It was while viewing one of his favourite Louis Armstrong films, "A Song is Born" that he inadvertently learned yet another of Beverly's secrets.
He hadn't even known that she'd ever heard of the film but was pleasantly surprised to see her mouthing along with some of the dialogue as they sat side by side on her couch.
When Virginia Mayo had started in on Daddy O he'd thought the holo-projector had somehow created an echo. His jaw had literally dropped when he glanced over at Beverly to find her singing along, perfectly in tune, her inflection and enunciation spot on.
Her voice was a deeply emotive blend of earthy and breathy and he'd held his breath not daring to interrupt. When the scene had finally ended, he paused the recording, bringing her only partially back to awareness.
"Beverly?"
"Mmmm?" Her response was vague, and he was loath to say anything that would remove that dreamy, flushed look from her face, but couldn't resist.
"I didn't know that you could sing." A wary look had stolen across her features chasing away the rapturous glow just as predicted.
"I don't."
"You sure as hell do. So… dancing, singing…. acting!" His voice raised on the last word, added on as a shocked afterthought that somehow came out sounding like an accusation. He was astonished at just how varied Beverly's talents were in the arts as in the sciences.
"Will…. No, I don't."
"The dancing is an open secret…"
"What?!" He nodded at her sympathetically.
"The Dancing Doctor…" Her mouth dropped open and her eyes grew round. No one knew about that nickname! No one except…
"I'll kill Data…" she murmured.
"It wasn't Data…"
She frowned and then realisation dawned on her face.
"Wesley!"
Knowing that plausible denial was no longer an option she opted instead for damage control. Performing was one of those things that she felt didn't quite fit with Dr. Crusher's image. Openly directing a play was as free a reign as she was willing to allow the more creative side of her personality.
"Will, many dancers often receive acting and vocal training. It doesn't mean we're proficient at them as well." He mulled it over and decided that it did make sense.
"But you are, " he shrugged. "So, when can we expect jazz baby Bev to make her début?"
"Absolutely not! And I expect you to keep this to yourself…." His eyes had gleamed with mischief.
"I mean it, Will!" she'd shouted.
She obviously hadn't had a change of heart…. Yet. He refused to give up, although right now, when she had some tool that looked suspiciously like a laser scalpel in her hand was probably not the time to press her on it
"We'll find someone else!" He tossed in her general direction while high tailing it out of sickbay before she could tell him to find someone else to play piano tomorrow night too.
—-
Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Beverly made her way through the group of musicians offering mutual praise. With each member of the little ensemble, she exchanged hugs and brushed her lips against proffered cheeks.
She at one point spent almost three minutes laughing with a lieutenant who had played the saxophone that evening. His name escaped the Captain for the moment, but he thought that the man was in security.
Picard noticed that the Lieutenant touched Beverly's arm several times and at one point clasped her hand and held it until she smilingly pulled away and turned to wish another member of Riker's little jazz band a good night.
Later when he'd returned to his quarters, he could admit that it wasn't the nameless overly familiar lieutenant that was bothering him. After having excused herself from the group Beverly had moved towards Riker who was looking consideringly at the equipment that needed to be packed up.
She'd laid her hand on his arm and Picard could see but not hear the soft words between them. Beverly had squeezed his bicep and leaned up towards him as Riker had leaned down slightly. Their lips had then met in a soft gentle kiss.
It was obviously platonic, but he admitted to himself afterwards that it had bothered him all the same. He had no right to be bothered, he reminded himself sternly. He shouldn't be following her movements around the room at all.
The fact that he'd been so very aware of every move she made over the course of the evening, every person she stopped to converse with… He couldn't do that, he reminded himself. He hadn't ever done again it since her return from her year at headquarters.
Embarrassed and somewhat confused by his own actions, he turned towards the exit only to find his path blocked by 10-Forward's barkeep. For just a moment he considered turning around and escaping via the doors on the opposite end of the lounge, then thought better of it. He was, however, sorely tempted. Guinan had a look in her eye that he found unsettling.
"It seems the Doctor has hidden talents."
Jean-Luc nodded. Hidden from him as well. Beverly had of course known about his flute, his increased interest in music after their encounter with the probe, but he'd not shared that with her openly.
When she'd first noticed it in his quarters, he'd told her simply that it had been found inside the probe and closed it away in the case. As he'd intended, she'd never mentioned it again.
Beverly was very adept at reading him. She'd have known that he'd not wanted her to press him, that he'd not felt comfortable sharing whatever it was with her. Obviously, she'd followed his lead in this, choosing not to share her talents with him. For a moment he wondered what would have been had he chosen otherwise.
He looked back at Guinan to find her regarding him thoughtfully. She seemed to be awaiting some sort of response.
"So it would seem."
"It's nice to see her getting out, enjoying herself again." Picard sighed. It was like trying to have a rational conversation with the Cheshire Cat.
"Beverly has always been involved in a variety of shipboard activities, Guinan."
"Not recently she hasn't, not for months." He turned to look at her then, not quite certain what to say.
"I…. She hasn't?"
"You'd think that would be something you would know about, Captain. Being her closest friend, I mean." She looked away from him then and towards the equipment that Riker was directing his small group to dismantle. "But maybe someone else has that covered now."
It took several seconds for her point to really sink in. When it did, Picard turned his head quickly towards her, but she was already several metres away, her back to him as she made her way to the occupied tables on the other side of the lounge.
He watched Will for a long moment before making a decision. Grabbing two flutes off the tray of a passing server he made his way towards his First Officer.
"Well done, Commander," he offered as Riker accepted the proffered flute. "I'm glad that you convinced me to attend this evening."
"I'm pleased that you decided to come, Sir."
"An interesting group you've assembled here."
"Yes, Sir. We're short our usual pianist for the next couple of weeks. Thankfully Beverly agreed to fill in. It took some convincing though."
He took a sip of his drink before, as casually as possible, seizing the opening that Riker had provided.
"I didn't realise that Dr. Crusher could play the piano…"
"Nobody did," Will laughed. "The lady can sing too…. Or maybe you've already…"
"No, no I haven't."
"Well, I'm still trying to convince her to provide the vocals at our next little soirée." He hesitated as he finally got a good look at his Captain's face. "Maybe you could try to get her on board, Sir."
"I doubt even I have that much pull with the Doctor, Commander." Will was casting awkwardly around for some other topic when he heard the Captain mutter, "At least, not anymore."
His eyes darted quickly to the older man just in time to see him toss back the rest of his champagne then wander off in the direction of the door.
"Your performance last night was excellent. I didn't know that you could play." She stilled, her coffee cup paused halfway to her mouth.
This was… unexpected. She'd imagined that he wouldn't dare to ever mention it, especially so soon. Then, one day it would be worked into conversation naturally, organically… and they'd both pretend that he'd always known…. It was simply how they did things…
She had purposefully avoided him last night, knowing that he would be hurt that she had not shared this part of her life with him, as if he hadn't always done the very same.
She'd expected he would appropriately interpret her evasion last night to indicate her disinclination to discuss it. They had always respected each other's boundaries. It was how they'd managed to salvage their friendship after the night of Jack's funeral. She was sure that she'd simply have to wait him out. Or so she'd thought.
She blinked at him unsteadily now, but he held her gaze, refusing to take up his part. Instead of bashful hesitation, she was faced with calm determination. She didn't know what he was playing at, but she didn't like it. His normal tendency was to withdraw, not become emboldened.
She reached for something cutting and, unsurprising given the state of affairs between them, found it easily.
"Your tastes are more sophisticated than my talents, Jean-Luc." She shrugged as if her answer brought the matter to a close.
"Are we still planning on stopping at Starbase 12 for supplies? There are some last-minute requests that Sickbay might want to add to the list. I know that you were looking to send along the requisition forms so they could prepare in advance."
Jean-Luc looked visibly startled at her abrupt change of topic. He opened his mouth then seemed to think better of it. Good. She was no longer willing to play this game with him.
Will was right. They were friends and she didn't owe him any of what she deemed "private." It wasn't as if he'd been forthcoming with her about his flute. If anything, he'd skirted the issue the one time she'd brought it up, his reluctance to talk about it with her obvious. And so, she'd respected that limitation.
That he'd shared that part of himself with Nella Daren so easily had hurt... No. He didn't get to start changing the rules now that he knew that she was playing by them too…