DP Tool Club 15/CD_ASCQ_15_070894.iso/vrac/outing.zip/OUTING.TXT

Text File | 1994-06-04 | 55KB | 888 lines

   sandra guzdek + username: [e-mail] + til 28 Aug 1992
           "I got into the classroom but my knowledge was gone
     I guess I should have studied 'stead of watchin' _Wrath of Khan_."
                  --- barenaked ladies, "Grade 9"

The Outing                                Copyright 1992 by Sandra Guzdek
_______________________________________________________________________________

        Captain Jean-Luc Picard sat at the desk in his ready-room,
head bowed. He was a tired captain; he'd been awake for over twenty hours
as a result of a tenuous situation that had brewed in orbit over Starbase
103 located on the edge of the Romulan Neutral Zone. Luckily, the wrinkles
were smoothed out and the Enterprise had come away unscathed by the
proverbial skin of its teeth. He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and
forefinger, cursing at the terrific migraine that had settled behind his
eyes. _Ah, what a little diplomatic skill can prevent_, he thought, and as
his head pulsed in pain,_--and cause..._
        He'd called Dr. Crusher moments ago to come to the bridge to get
rid of this albatross; it felt like an eternity. In the meantime, his only
consolation was some soft Mozart piped in via the computer and a steaming
cup of relaxing chamomile tea.
        Picard had given bridge control to Lt-Cmndr. Data, whose inability
to become fatigued relieved both the captain and his second-in-command, William
Riker. Will had beat a hasty retreat to the steaming sauna, followed
presumably by some well-deserved sleep. _But_, the captain mused, _one can
never be too sure with Will..._   Picard, while exhausted, was at the same
time wound up by the events that had just taken place. Impossibly,
they would not leave his mind. Subconsciously massaging his temples, his
weary eyes began to droop.
        The door chime brought him back to attention. He jumped to his
feet, tugged down his jersey and silenced the music. "Come in."
        The door noiselessly slid aside to reveal the ship's doctor, Beverly
Crusher, a copper-haired sight for sore eyes. She stepped in with a smile.
She, too, had the look of long hours etched into her face: she had beamed
down to the planet-bound starbase personally with a medical team to attend
to some injuries caused by a minor tremor. In any other instance
it would have been nothing, but in the confusion and with the appearance of
the Romulans, everything was rushed to double time. "I apologize for my
delay, captain, but there was an emergency in SickBay...Ensign O'Rourke
went into labor prematurely. We were able to stop the contractions.
Thankfully the baby's all right." He took a seat, and she wasted no time
pulling out the medical scanner, encircling his head with it.
"Increased muscle tension and restricted blood flow. Had it for very long?"
she queried as she folded shut the medical instrument.
        "Give Ensign O'Rourke my regards," he replied, although children
had never been one of his most likeable subjects. "I've had the headache
since parting with the Romulan Warbird."
        She acknowledged with a "hmm", and pulled out an injector. "This
will clear it up." Instantly the pain subsided and he was on his feet
again.
        "Once again, a miracle. The pain is indeed gone," he commented, as
the muscles released their hold. She smiled -- it was his roundabout way of
thanking her. "Why don't you go and get some sleep, doctor? You've been going
longer than I have. You'll burn out." He sipped the herbal tea. "Captain's
orders."
        "You could use a little of the same," replied the chief medical
officer, packing up her medical bag. "_Doctor's_ orders."
        "Touche'," he called to her as she headed for the door."Good night,
Beverly."
        Dr. Crusher turned at the door.  "Good night, Jean-Luc."
        The door swished shut behind her. The sound of silence---how
euphoric to hear absolutely nothing. He walked over to the window, tea in
hand, and looked out to the receding starfield. A thousand times he could
do this and it would always fascinate him. It brought him back to his
time on earth, the glorious feel of soft grass underfoot, the fragrance of
sweet night air, sleeping on his back by a bristling fire...
        It was then the idea was conceived. He sat and gave detailed
programming to the ship's computer, made a log entry, and left explicit
instructions with Data for the lot of them not to be disturbed,
excepting cases of dire emergency, for the next twelve or so hours.
        He was going to relax, and being in transit, he was going to do it
right.

+++

        Beverly Crusher was all set to draw a fantastic bubble bath when
the alert sounded on her communicator. She sighed, and acknowledged. It was
the captain, requesting her presence in Holodeck 3. She was hesitant, but
agreed. When he then told her to leave her communicator behind, she was
certain she should have refused. He added, much to her dismay, "Dress
warmly."

+++

        Lying back on a couch after a half hour of heaven in the sauna and
the steam room, Commander William Riker closed his eyes and waited for
Counselor Troi. They had made plans for a drink after this strenuous day.
He really just wanted to get some shut-eye, but figured the counselor's
company would be comforting and would de-frazzle his jumpy nerves.
        The door chime sounded, and it was Counselor Troi. "What kept you?"
he asked; when he looked at her, he was even more curious.
        She was dressed in denim pants, a flannel shirt, a wool-lined
jacket and a pair of hiking boots. Her curly black hair was drawn into a
plait, and her communicator was oddly missing.
        "The captain hasn't contacted you yet?" she asked, as he realized
he had left his own communicator on his desk top. She smiled as she felt a
wave of embarrassment from him. "We're to meet him in Holodeck 3. How about
I meet you down there?"
        "What is this all about? What has he got in mind?" Riker returned,
pacing the floor of his quarters. "I'm so tired -- I hope it's not some
battle simulation of what we just went through."
        Deanna shook her head. "Not dressed like this. Besides, I don't
sense any tension or desire for rigour from him; the opposite, I sense a
great anticipation from him, almost excitement, yet he's completely at
peace."
        "He didn't say?" persisted Will.
        "No, Will, he didn't. Just 'dress warmly', as he said. We'll have
our drinks some other time." She exited with a final goodbye and a smile.
        Riker sighed. "I don't need this," he muttered as he got himself
together for whatever Captain Picard had cooked up.

+++

        At the door of Holodeck 3, Beverly Crusher, dressed in the
replicator's best facsimile of a down jacket, stood unsurely. She wondered
was the captain inside already, and paced before the door a couple of times
before deciding to enter.
        The doors parted and all she could see was slivers of moonlight
peeking through massive, ancient tree trunks. She squinted, her
eyes not completely adjusted, and saw the flickering of a fire in the
distance. An almost eerie luminescence blanketed the ground and, as she
stepped out onto the edge of a clearing, the clouds above in outline. At
her feet was lush grass; above shone the moon of planet Earth accompanied
by the the celestial stars that had at one time marked the limit of
mankind. From a distance she heard Picard's voice beckoning her. She could
see him by the campfire, waving at her.
        She neared the camp he'd arranged; the captain sat on a log. He was
dressed in denim and flannel as well, and had a book opened on his lap,
which he closed upon her arrival. A lantern glowed near his side. He
gestured to a log beside him, and she sat.
        Beverly laughed gingerly. "Jean-Luc, where is this place?" A cool,
fresh breeze rolled past her cheek and rustled her hair. "Wherever it is, it
feels like heaven."
        "I took the best parts from all of my favourite places on planet
Earth. I was feeling kind of homesick. I also had a great desire to sleep
under the stars tonight, while the stars weren't moving at warp speed."
Tongues of light from the glowing fire illuminated the senior officer
strangely.
        "And you asked me to join you?" Beverly marvelled. "This is a
wonderful place....I'm flattered."
        The captain set the book beside him. "I've asked Will, Geordi, and
Deanna as well. You're the first to arrive."
        She smiled, glad that Deanna wasn't around yet to read her feeling of
foolishness. "Oh, of course. Like a camp-out," she said finally.
        However, it was evident that Picard could read her equally well.
"If it's any consolation," he said, "it was your visit that prompted this
whole idea. For a night, let's just forget where we *really* are, and *who*
we are."
        Suddenly they could see Deanna nearing the fire; aside, Deanna
wondered exactly why her appearance had halted such an uneasiness here.
"Captain, this is beautiful. I think this is just what we all need." She
took a seat beside Beverly, and turned her dark eyes to the sky. The light
of the moon was casting fantastic shadows within the clouds. "It is so....
serene here."
        "After what we've all just been through, I think anything
resembling shore leave is well deserved," said the approaching Commander
Riker, who took a log beside Deanna's. Deanna smiled in agreement.
        "I've got coffee on, if anyone's interested," said the captain,
indicating a percolating metal pot that hung over the fire.
        "Mmmm, fresh brewed coffee, a real rarity," quipped Beverly.
        Riker looked confused. "Where's Geordi?"
        Picard replied. "Declined. Said he still had work to do in
Engineering. I tried to convince him it could wait, that someone else could
do it, short of *commanding* him to join us, but he felt obligated to
get that warp core returned to tip-top shape as soon as possible. I have
to admit, I admire him for that." The coffee was ready, and he took the pot
from the fire. "He said also that with his VISOR, he probably wouldn't be
able to fully appreciate it anyhow."
        Deanna sighed. "Surely he could sense the peace here...to sleep
here would be the sleep of angels." Picard shrugged an I-don't-know, and
passed around the coffee, which was gratefully accepted.
        Everyone concurred on the extremely fantastic taste of the
coffee, but after that the voices died away, and there was silence. If they
didn't know each other so well, it would have been awkward.
        It was Riker's unabashed yawn that set everyone in motion away from
the fire. There were five sleeping units -- a sleeping bag, pillows, and a
thick blanket -- which fanned around the campfire like spokes on a wheel.
Riker and Picard took the ends; Beverly took the one closest to the captain
and the counselor, closest to the commander. Picard told the computer to
remove the fifth one, leaving a gape in the center.
        Beverly unzipped her bag to crawl in. It was extraordinarily warm.
In his own bag, the captain stopped to fluff the pillows before lying back.
Deanna and Will also took to their respective bags. Good-nights were said,
and all was calm save the wind swaying the grass.

+++

        With the trees in motion around her and the cool wind on her skin,
Beverly was lying on her back, her eyes open to the stars above, the same stars
she'd seen all too many times. Now, here in this place, they were somehow
different, somehow given a new context. Around her, the fire crackled and
sent up a tail of smoke. The smell of the burning wood was refreshing. The
grass seemed to whisper as the wind played with it. Vaguely she could hear
murmurs between Will and Deanna. Her own thoughts rolled within her head
without restraint as they had wanted to do for so long.
        It seemed hours were spent in this silent contemplation when she
heard the voice of the captain ask quietly from a couple of meters away,
"Beverly, are you still awake?" The night was so still this question startled
her. Deanna and Will had been long asleep.
        Beverly turned her head to the side to see that the captain was on
his back as well, staring up into infinity, his aquiline features in
profile from the moonlight. "Yes, I'm still awake."
        Another burst of air raced over the clearing. He closed his eyes to
absorb it; she shivered as goose-bumps rose, and pulled the blanket
tighter around her neck.
        "Is it too cold in here?" he queried. "I can change---"
        Beverly interrupted him with, "No, it feels great. It's the best
cure for homesickness."
        "That it is," he stated.
        She continued in a nostalgic tone, "Good place....to sort out some
thoughts." The doctor turned her head to the sky once again. As she did,
Picard looked towards her. Her auburn hair was splayed on the pillow around her
and highlighted oddly by the moonlight.
        "A penny for *yours*, doctor."
        After a moment she turned her head; this time their eyes made
contact. He had the suggestion of a smile on his lips.
        "I was just sort of...putting my life into perspective, reminiscing
about Jack, missing Wesley, thinking about my time on the Enterprise with
all of you. Those sort of things." She turned to lay on her side. "What
about yours?"
        He half shrugged. "I was pretty much doing the same. Evaluating my
life, my career. Remembering some of our missions, some of my rights and
wrongs. What I would change if I could." He also was on his side.
        Her mouth curled in a grin. "That sounds intriguing. Care to share
any of those remembrances?"
        He grinned as well. "Do you remember," he began, "when we were
overcome by that virulent intoxicant? If it hadn't been quite so life-
threatening, it would have been...funny."
        "*Funny?*" she wondered. "Terrifying is more like it. It was
perfectly awful to have this ship completely paralyzed, and there was
nothing I could do."
        "But you came through in the end, which I had faith you'd do. I was
just thinking, though, how laughable my behaviour must have been. And you...
you certainly had your moments as well."
        She remembered suddenly his babbling and cracked a smile. _One of
the times you've actually lost the hold on your control,_ she thought
to herself with twist of humour. "Yes, I suppose when you think
about it in that light....you were quite out of character. Nothing,
however, beats the report I heard, of you singing bar songs with the crew
in Ten-Forward."
        His brow knitted. "I did no such thing, Beverly. When the ship was
affected with that virus, I was on the bridge the whole time."
        "It wasn't then, it was at a later stardate. You were full of
surprises for some strange reason. The bar songs was just one example."
Picard seemed confused at her words, then he appeared as if the light had
dawned.
        "*I* know what you're thinking of. No one's ever explained to you
what happened during that time, have they?"
        "I guess not. Will you please?"
        "I was taken against my will for a....study by an alien race, and
replaced by an exact duplicate here on the Enterprise." She seemed to turn
this notion over in her head. "Or, as the case may be, not-so-exact."
        Picard thought about the report Will had given him regarding his
double's actions, and wondered if there was something that had been left
out. "Why do you ask? Did I....did *he*...do something to you, that you
didn't report on?"
        "Well, I *did* think you were acting strangely....it isn't
important, though." She seemed like she was holding something back.
        "Important enough to ask about. Please, tell me."
        "I'd really rather not, sir, if you don't mind."
        Picard let out an impatient breath. "None of that 'sir' formality,
Beverly," he said lightheartedly, "or I'll have to order you to file an
official report on it. Now, if it involves who you thought at the time was
me, I think I have a right to know what was done."
        She sighed, giving in. "You invited me to your quarters for an, um,
intimate dinner." Hoping that would satisfy his curiosity, she stopped. She
felt like she was telling him about another man, and it made her feel
somewhat uncomfortable. Again, it seemed to him that she was not divulging
everything and he wanted to know more:
        "And...?"
        "We ate an extraordinary dinner, had some wine, talked....that's
all, really."
        He noticed her unwillingness and decided to egg her on anyway,
against his better judgement. "Come on Beverly, we're friends.
What did 'we' talk about?"
        "Frankly?" she began, sounding a little wounded, "You came right
out and told me that you regretted your decision concerning our
relationship *as* friends, and suggested that you were interested in more.
I told you that I thought the distance we kept ourselves at was right,
not only right, but correct. I also told you that that was what I was
comfortable with." She stopped to think. "You questioned if my reason was
because you were, and are, my commanding officer." After she spoke, the
silence seemed intrusive.
        Picard turned back to the sky. "Now I see why this bothered you."
He continued, after a pause, "Indeed, very interesting. Anything else I
should be aware of?"
        Keeping it from him was useless. He obviously knew when or if she
was lying or not telling him something. What was the point after all?
"We danced," she continued, ready to brave any reaction from him, "and
you kissed me."
        Any reaction, that was, except amusement.
        Picard was incredulous. "*Danced?* *Kissed* you?" He pushed himself
up on his elbow to look over at her. He had a Cheshire grin from ear to
ear. _A grin I'd love to slap right off that face_, she thought hotly.
        "And then you showed me the door," she concluded, thoroughly
agitated, adding a deliberate, "*sir.*"
        Her annoyance at him caused him to burst into outright laughter.
"Oh, *Beverly*. Enough of the 'sir' already. We're not on the bridge. Right
now I'm not even the captain. We're just having a friendly conversation."
        "If *this* is friendly....In any case, I don't appreciate being
laughed at," she retorted, also propped up on one elbow now.
        "I'm not laughing *at* you, dear Beverly. It's amusing how this is
making you." He chuckled again, and then became serious. "You're forgetting
that it was not me, and that for me it didn't really happen--"
        Threatening to rise above the low whisper they had been talking in,
she broke in with, "It did happen for me, captain, and I won't soon forget it.
Let me pose *this* to you: this alien impostor didn't single me out in
particular without a reason. There must have been some thread of thought
for this being to pick up. Therefore, if there's something on your mind about
me, about our relationship, tell me, instead of just...laughing!" She had a
good mind to get up and leave; too tired to move, she instead turned and faced
away from him.
        "Good night," she said curtly.
        Beverly closed her eyes, hating the fact that she had just lost her
temper with her captain; more importantly, with her good friend. At the
very least, she'd gotten the thought off of her chest. From early on in service
together she'd sensed some attraction between herself and her superior
officer-- the viral intoxicant had brought that to light. Picard tended to be
repressive with his emotions, however, so she could never really be sure. That
he outranked her was in fact intimidating as well. _It's probably for the best
that we stay where we are. At least it's less confusing that way_, she thought
at last with a resigned sigh.

+++

        Some time later, as Beverly drifted in and out of sleep, she heard a
voice close to her: "Sometimes....I am satisfied with my decision to keep our
relationship professional. Sometimes....well, sometimes I *do* regret it." She
lifted her head and turned groggily to see the captain, sitting crosslegged on
the grass between their sleeping units, his elbows on his knees, his face
upturned towards the stars. "For instance, Vash...." No more was needed to be
said about that; Beverly knew that he had shared intimate time with this
pretty, young, spirited archaeologist on a vacation to Rhysa. "Had I *not*
stuck consistently to that decision I don't think we'd speak to each other.
You've been there for me, both as doctor and more importantly as a friend,
more times than I can remember." Through his mind flashed the Sarek
mind-meld, his return from the Borg ship... At that moment he turned to look
down at her. "It would be...devastating to lose your friendship."
        Beverly smiled tiredly, her fingers curling over the edge of the
blanket near her chin. "We're in agreement there. Sometimes it just
frustrates me not knowing what you're thinking. Even though you take on the role
of Jean-Luc the captain too often for *my* liking, I like to think you can
talk to me about anything as Jean-Luc the man. I hope you know that."
The air struck up again, sweeping across the grass softly.  "And I know
that I can turn to you, like when Jack died..." She suddenly felt a
terrible sadness wash over her, and closed her eyes. From his
elevated position he smoothed the hair near her brow. "...and like now."
        He smiled tenderly, although the doctor was fast falling asleep and
could not appreciate it. "Sleep well, Beverly."

+++

        Deanna came out of sleep with a strange sensation that was almost
frightening. It was coming from the captain, and it was such a feeling of
turbulence like none she had known from him. She pushed herself up out of
her bag to see him sitting near the sleeping Beverly. She concentrated very
hard to get a feeling of what he was so troubled about -- it was about the
doctor, undoubtedly. He was likely torn between his emotions and his duty,
as he had often revealed to her as counselor. Deanna lay back down on her
pillow and closed her mind to it, for it was undoubtedly a private storm.
        When Deanna woke next, feeling refreshed and untroubled, she saw
Will by the fire, and decided to join him. Almost inaudibly she asked him,
"Did you sleep well?"
        "Like a baby. Haven't slept so well for as long as I can remember.
Just wanted to cherish this time before duty, peace and quiet." He gestured
for her to sit beside him, which she cheerfully did. He pointed to the captain
and the doctor, and asked, "So what do you think went on over there?" The
captain was asleep next to Beverly, his head nestled close to her own.
        What she sensed now was a reversal of her earlier empathic efforts:
both of them were very untroubled. "I wonder that myself. During the night
I awoke feeling a great sense of pain from the captain. Now his mind is
free of that pain. I can only imagine they have discussed what the problem
was."
        Riker grinned. "Maybe they didn't *discuss* a thing."
        Deanna looked at him scornfully. "That's not like our captain."
        "This is not like any other night," Riker reminded her.

+++

        Twelve hours after arriving in the holodeck, and a full night's
sleep later, Beverly Crusher woke to see the same stars over her head and
to hear the voice of Deanna nearby, quiet and happy. She and Will had been
talking, most recently about their captain and their doctor unbeknownst
to Beverly or Jean-Luc. Deanna and Will were sitting by the fire -- Deanna's
long hair, down from its braid, haloed orange around her face. Will was
smiling, basking in the warmth of the fire and of present company.
        Beverly was comfortable and well-rested. She was scheduled for duty
in about an hour, as were the rest of them, but as for right now she had no
desire whatsoever to move for she knew not when she would feel so relaxed
again. _Jean-Luc was right, I did need this._
        It was then she realized that Jean-Luc had fallen asleep very close
to her, under a corner of her blanket, half on the grass. His head was on
the edge of her pillow; his other hand was outstretched and rested on her
own arm. Her first thought was wondering what Will and Deanna made of it.
Obviously she and the captain had been very content in sleep --- Deanna could
certainly perceive that.
        More importantly than that: Beverly was immensely amused. She was
reminded of Wesley's sleepless nights as a child of three when she would
cradle him in her own bed until he fell asleep. To imagine the captain
reduced to this... she very nearly snickered at the idea.
        She turned over and reached to shake his shoulder. "Jean-Luc," she
whispered, "wake up."
        He was plunged deep into a dream, and mumbled, "Darling..."
        Will and Deanna had certainly heard that, for smiles bloomed on
both of their faces. Beverly shook him again, repeating, "Jean-Luc, wake
up."
        Sleepily he replied, "Dear...please....not on duty yet...."
        _So much for the minute-man..._, thought she.
        Now the counselor and the commander whispered to one another,
apparently in the belief that much more had actually happened on that side
of the fire. Beverly said to them, "This *isn't* what you think."
        Riker, eyes ever-twinkling, replied, "Of course not, doctor."
Obvious sarcasm brimmed in his voice. Deanna covered her mouth with her
fingertips to stifle a giggle.
        The two of them stood, and Deanna stretched her arms over her head.
"What a delightful night. However...I must report for duty...."
        "As do I," added Will.
        "...so you, doctor, can be left to awaken our slumbering captain,
any way you see fit. See you on the bridge," Deanna finished with a touch
of playfulness. Riker called for the arch, and the two of them left the
holodeck.
        When the computer's time hit 700 hours, the program began to change,
a sort of built-in failsafe: the fire went down to embers, and the
sky began to warm with the first rays of the sun.
        As predictable as clockwork, Picard began to rouse awake from the
ruddy haze of daybreak. For a moment he was utterly disoriented, and
muttered, "Where the devil...?" as he sat up on one elbow, blinking the
sleep from his eyes. Upon seeing his close proximity to the lovely doctor,
he quickly sat up stick straight and tugged down the bottom of his jacket
in habit, snapping back into his role as captain. "Good morning, Doctor
Crusher."
        "Jean-Luc. Sunrise here is breathtaking," she responded, her hair and
skin aglow with the warm rays of the Earth sun.
        He was evidently between a rock and a hard place, and replied, as
if he felt compelled to do so, "It certainly is."
        She took in a long breath of fresh morning air, and sighed.
        Changing the subject he said, true to form, "Duty's approaching.
We should get back to quarters and change." He stood and called out,
"Computer, end pro---"
        Before he could finish she countered his call: "Computer, belay
that order. Jean-Luc, you're doing it again, being the captain and not
being the man. At the very least, sit down here with me and let the sun
finish rising."


                         The Outing


               Copyright 1992 by Sandra Guzdek
                             (2)

     Captain Jean-Luc Picard sat at the desk in his ready-room, head bowed.
He was a tired captain; he'd been awake for over twenty hours as a result of a
tenuous situation that had brewed in orbit over Starbase 103 located on the
edge of the Romulan Neutral Zone. Luckily, the wrinkles were smoothed out
and the Enterprise had come away unscathed by the proverbial skin of its
teeth. He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, cursing at the terrific
migraine that had settled behind his eyes. Ah, what a little diplomatic skill ca
n
prevent, he thought, and as his head pulsed in pain, and cause...
     He'd called Dr. Crusher moments ago to come to the bridge to get rid
of this albatross; it felt like an eternity. In the meantime, his only consolati
on
was some soft Mozart piped in via the computer and a steaming cup of
relaxing chamomile tea.
     Picard had given bridge control to Lieutenant Commander Data, whose
inability to become fatigued relieved both the captain and his
second-in-command, William Riker. Will had beat a hasty retreat to the
steaming sauna, followed presumably by some well-deserved sleep. But, the
captain mused, one can never be too sure with Will...  Picard, while exhausted,
was at the same time wound up by the events that had just taken place.
Impossibly, they would not leave his mind. Subconsciously massaging his
temples, his weary eyes began to droop.
     The door chime brought him back to attention. He jumped to his feet,
tugged down his jersey and silenced the music. "Come in."
     The door noiselessly slid aside to reveal the ship's doctor, Beverly
Crusher, a copper-haired sight for sore eyes. She stepped in with a smile. She,
too, had the look of long hours etched into her face: she had beamed down to
the planet-bound starbase personally with a medical team to attend to some
injuries caused by a minor tremor. In any other instance it would have been
nothing, but in the confusion and with the appearance of the Romulans,
everything was rushed to double time. "I apologize for my delay, captain, but
there was an emergency in sick bay... Ensign O'Rourke went into labor
prematurely. We were able to stop the contractions. Thankfully the baby's all
right."  He took a seat, and she wasted no time pulling out the medical
scanner, encircling his head with it. "Increased muscle tension and restricted
blood flow. Had it for very long?"  she queried as she folded shut the medical
instrument.
     "Give Ensign O'Rourke my regards,"  he replied, although children had
never been one of his most likeable subjects. "I've had the headache since
parting with the Romulan Warbird."
     She acknowledged with a "hmm", and pulled out an injector. "This will
clear it up."  Instantly the pain subsided and he was on his feet again.
     "Once again, a miracle. The pain is indeed gone,"  he commented, as the
muscles released their hold. She smiled; it was his roundabout way of
thanking her. "Why don't you go and get some sleep, doctor? You've been
going longer than I have. You'll burn out."  He sipped the herbal tea.
"Captain's orders."
     "You could use a little of the same,"  replied the chief medical officer,
packing up her medical bag. "Doctor's orders."
     "Touch^B,"  he called to her as she headed for the door. "Good night,
Beverly."
     Dr. Crusher turned at the door.  "Good night, Jean-Luc."
     The door swished shut behind her. The sound of silence; how euphoric
to hear absolutely nothing. He walked over to the window, tea in hand, and
looked out to the receding starfield. A thousand times he could do this and it
would always fascinate him. It brought him back to his time on earth, the
glorious feel of soft grass underfoot, the fragrance of sweet night air, sleepin
g
on his back by a bristling fire...
     It was then the idea was conceived. He sat and gave detailed
programming to the ship's computer, made a log entry, and left explicit
instructions with Data for the lot of them not to be disturbed, excepting cases
of dire emergency, for the next twelve or so hours.
     He was going to relax, and being in transit, he was going to do it right.

+++

     Beverly Crusher was all set to draw a fantastic bubble bath when the
alert sounded on her communicator. She sighed, and acknowledged. It was the
captain, requesting her presence in Holodeck 3. She was hesitant, but agreed.
When he then told her to leave her communicator behind, she was certain she
should have refused. He added, much to her dismay, "Dress warmly."

+++

     Lying back on a couch after a half hour of heaven in the sauna and the
steam room, Commander William Riker closed his eyes and waited for
Counselor Troi. They had made plans for a drink after this strenuous day. He
really just wanted to get some shut-eye, but figured the counselor's company
would be comforting and would de-frazzle his jumpy nerves.
     The door chime sounded, and it was Counselor Troi. "What kept you?"
he asked; when he looked at her, he was even more curious.
     She was dressed in denim pants, a flannel shirt, a wool-lined jacket and
a pair of hiking boots. Her curly black hair was drawn into a plait, and her
communicator was oddly missing.
     "The captain hasn't contacted you yet?"  she asked, as he realized he
had left his own communicator on his desk top. She smiled as she felt a wave
of embarrassment from him. "We're to meet him in Holodeck 3. How about I
meet you down there?"
     "What is this all about? What has he got in mind?"  Riker returned,
pacing the floor of his quarters. "I'm so tired -- I hope it's not some battle
simulation of what we just went through."
     Deanna shook her head. "Not dressed like this. Besides, I don't sense
any tension or desire for rigour from him; the opposite, I sense a great
anticipation from him, almost excitement, yet he's completely at peace."
     "He didn't say?"  persisted Will.
     "No, Will, he didn't. Just `dress warmly,' as he said. We'll have our
drinks some other time."  She exited with a final goodbye and a smile.
     Riker sighed. "I don't need this,"  he muttered as he got himself together
for whatever Captain Picard had cooked up.

+++

     At the door of Holodeck 3, Beverly Crusher, dressed in the replicator's
best facsimile of a down jacket, stood unsurely. She wondered was the captain
inside already, and paced before the door a couple of times before deciding to
enter.
     The doors parted and all she could see was slivers of moonlight peeking
through massive, ancient tree trunks. She squinted, her eyes not completely
adjusted, and saw the flickering of a fire in the distance. An almost eerie
luminescence blanketed the ground and, as she stepped out onto the edge of a
clearing, the clouds above in outline. At her feet was lush grass; above shone
the moon of planet Earth accompanied by the the celestial stars that had at one
time marked the limit of mankind. From a distance she heard Picard's voice
beckoning her. She could see him by the campfire, waving at her.
     She neared the camp he'd arranged; the captain sat on a log. He was
dressed in denim and flannel as well, and had a book opened on his lap,
which he closed upon her arrival. A lantern glowed near his side. He gestured
to a log beside him, and she sat.
     Beverly laughed gingerly. "Jean-Luc, where is this place?"  A cool, fresh
breeze rolled past her cheek and rustled her hair. "Wherever it is, it feels lik
e
heaven."
     "I took the best parts from all of my favourite places on planet Earth. I
was feeling kind of homesick. I also had a great desire to sleep under the stars
tonight, while the stars weren't moving at warp speed."  Tongues of light from
the glowing fire illuminated the senior officer strangely.
     "And you asked me to join you?"  Beverly marvelled. "This is a
wonderful place... I'm flattered."
     The captain set the book beside him. "I've asked Will, Geordi, and
Deanna as well. You're the first to arrive."
     She smiled, glad that Deanna wasn't around yet to read her feeling of
foolishness. "Oh, of course. Like a camp-out,"  she said finally.
     However, it was evident that Picard could read her equally well. "If it's
any consolation,"  he said, "it was your visit that prompted this whole idea.
For a night, let's just forget where we really are, and who we are."
     Suddenly they could see Deanna nearing the fire; aside, Deanna
wondered exactly why her appearance had halted such an uneasiness here.
"Captain, this is beautiful. I think this is just what we all need."  She took a
seat beside Beverly, and turned her dark eyes to the sky. The light of the moon
was casting fantastic shadows within the clouds. "It is so... serene here."
     "After what we've all just been through, I think anything resembling
shore leave is well deserved,"  said the approaching Commander Riker, who
took a log beside Deanna's. Deanna smiled in agreement.
     "I've got coffee on, if anyone's interested,"  said the captain, indicating
 a
percolating metal pot that hung over the fire.
     "Mmmm, fresh brewed coffee, a real rarity,"  quipped Beverly.
     Riker looked confused. "Where's Geordi?"
     Picard replied. "Declined. Said he still had work to do in Engineering. I
tried to convince him it could wait, that someone else could do it, short of
commanding him to join us, but he felt obligated to get that warp core returned
to tip-top shape as soon as possible. I have to admit, I admire him for that."
The coffee was ready, and he took the pot from the fire. "He said also that
with his VISOR, he probably wouldn't be able to fully appreciate it anyhow."
     Deanna sighed. "Surely he could sense the peace here... to sleep
here would be the sleep of angels."  Picard shrugged an I-don't-know, and
passed around the coffee, which was gratefully accepted.
     Everyone concurred on the extremely fantastic taste of the coffee, but
after that the voices died away, and there was silence. If they didn't know each
other so well, it would have been awkward.
     It was Riker's unabashed yawn that set everyone in motion away from
the fire. There were five sleeping units -- a sleeping bag, pillows, and a thick
blanket -- which fanned around the campfire like spokes on a wheel. Riker and
Picard took the ends; Beverly took the one closest to the captain, and the
counselor, closest to the commander. Picard told the computer to remove the
fifth one, leaving a gape in the center.
     Beverly unzipped her bag to crawl in. It was extraordinarily warm. In
his own bag, the captain stopped to fluff the pillows before lying back. Deanna
and Will also took to their respective bags. Good-nights were said, and all was
calm save the wind swaying the grass.

+++

     With the trees in motion around her and the cool wind on her skin,
Beverly was lying on her back, her eyes open to the stars above, the same stars
she'd seen all too many times. Now, here in this place, they were somehow
different, somehow given a new context. Around her, the fire crackled and
sent up a tail of smoke. The smell of the burning wood was refreshing. The
grass seemed to whisper as the wind played with it. Vaguely she could hear
murmurs between Will and Deanna. Her own thoughts rolled within her head
without restraint as they had wanted to do for so long.
     It seemed hours were spent in this silent contemplation when she heard
the voice of the captain ask quietly from a couple of meters away, "Beverly, are
you still awake?"  The night was so still this question startled her. Deanna and
Will had been long asleep.
     Beverly turned her head to the side to see that the captain was on his
back as well, staring up into infinity, his aquiline features in profile from th
e
moonlight. "Yes, I'm still awake."
     Another burst of air raced over the clearing. He closed his eyes to
absorb it; she shivered as goose-bumps rose, and pulled the blanket tighter
around her neck.
     "Is it too cold in here?"  he queried. "I can change-- "
     Beverly interrupted him with, "No, it feels great. It's the best cure for
homesickness."
     "That it is,"  he stated.
     She continued in a nostalgic tone, "Good place... to sort out some
thoughts."  The doctor turned her head to the sky once again. As she did,
Picard looked towards her. Her auburn hair was splayed on the pillow around
her and highlighted oddly by the moonlight.
     "A penny for yours, doctor."
     After a moment she turned her head; this time their eyes made contact.
He had the suggestion of a smile on his lips.
     "I was just sort of... putting my life into perspective, reminiscing about
Jack, missing Wesley, thinking about my time on the Enterprise with all of
you. Those sort of things."  She turned to lay on her side. "What about yours?"
     He half shrugged. "I was pretty much doing the same. Evaluating my
life, my career. Remembering some of our missions, some of my rights and
wrongs. What I would change if I could."  He also was on his side.
     Her mouth curled in a grin. "That sounds intriguing. Care to share any
of those remembrances?"
     He grinned as well. "Do you remember,"  he began, "when we were
overcome by that virulent intoxicant? If it hadn't been quite so life-threatenin
g,
it would have been... funny."
     "Funny?"  she wondered. "Terrifying is more like it. It was perfectly
awful to have this ship completely paralyzed, and there was nothing I could
do."
     "But you came through in the end, which I had faith you'd do. I was
just thinking, though, how laughable my behaviour must have been. And
you... you certainly had your moments as well."
     She remembered suddenly his babbling and cracked a smile. One of the
times you've actually lost the hold on your control, she thought to herself with
 an
ironic smirk. "Yes, I suppose when you think about it in that light... you were
quite out of character. Nothing, however, beats the report I heard, of you
singing bar songs with the crew in Ten-Forward."
     His brow knitted. "I did no such thing, Beverly. When the ship was
affected with that virus, I did not once enter Ten-Forward."
     "It wasn't then, it was at a later stardate. You were full of surprises for
some strange reason. The bar songs was just one example."  Picard seemed
confused at her words, then he appeared as if the light had dawned.
     "I know what you're thinking of. No one's ever explained to you what
happened during that time, have they?"
     "I guess not. Will you please?"
     "I was taken against my will for a... study, by an alien race, and replaced
by an exact duplicate here on the Enterprise."  She seemed to turn this notion
over in her head. "Or, as the case may be, not-so-exact."
     Picard thought about the report Will had given him regarding his
double's actions, and wondered if there was something that had been left out.
"Why do you ask? Did I... did he... do something to you, that you didn't report
on?"
     "Well, I did think you were acting strangely... it isn't important, though.
"
She seemed like she was holding something back.
     "Important enough to ask about. Please, tell me."
     "I'd really rather not, Sir, if you don't mind."
     Picard let out an impatient breath. "None of that `Sir' formality,
Beverly,"  he said lightheartedly, "or I'll have to order you to file an officia
l
report on it. Now, if it involves who you thought at the time was me, I think I
have a right to know what was done."
     She sighed, giving in. "You invited me to your quarters for an, um,
intimate dinner."  Hoping that would satisfy his curiosity, she stopped. She fel
t
like she was telling him about another man, and it made her feel somewhat
uncomfortable. Again, it seemed to him that she was not divulging everything
and he wanted to know more:
     "And...?"
     "We ate an extraordinary dinner, had some wine, talked... that's all,
really."
     He noticed her unwillingness and decided to egg her on anyway,
against his better judgment. "Come on Beverly, we're friends. What did `we'
talk about?"
     "Frankly?"  she began, sounding a little wounded, "You came right out
and told me that you regretted your decision concerning our relationship as
friends, and suggested that you were interested in more. I told you that I
thought the distance we kept ourselves at was right, not only right, but correct
.
I also told you that that was what I was comfortable with."  She stopped to
think. "You questioned if my reason was because you were, and are, my
commanding officer."  After she spoke, the silence seemed intrusive.
     Picard turned back to the sky. "Now I see why this bothered you."  He
continued, after a pause, "Indeed, very interesting. Anything else I should be
aware of?"
     Keeping it from him was useless. He obviously knew when or if she
was lying or not telling him something. What was the point after all? "We
danced,"  she continued, ready to brave any reaction from him, "and you
kissed me."
     Any reaction, that was, except amusement.
     Picard was incredulous. "Danced? Kissed you?"  He pushed himself up
on his elbow to look over at her. He had a Cheshire grin from ear to ear. A
grin I'd love to slap right off that face, she thought hotly.
     "And then you showed me the door,"  she concluded, thoroughly
agitated, adding a deliberate, "Sir."
     Her annoyance at him caused him to burst into outright laughter. "Oh,
Beverly. Enough of the `Sir' already. We're not on the bridge. Right now I'm
not even the captain. We're just having a friendly conversation."
     "If this is friendly... In any case, I don't appreciate being laughed at,"
she retorted, also propped up on one elbow now.
     "I'm not laughing at you, dear Beverly. It's amusing how this is making
you."  He chuckled again, and then became serious. "You're forgetting that it
was not me, and that for me it didn't really happen-- "  Threatening to rise
above the low whisper they had been talking in, she broke in with, "It did
happen for me, captain, and I won't soon forget it. Let me pose this to you:
this alien impostor didn't single me out in particular without a reason. There
must have been some thread of thought for this being to pick up. Therefore, if
there's something on your mind about me, about our relationship, tell me,
instead of just... laughing!"  She had a good mind to get up and leave; too tire
d
to move, she instead turned and faced away from him.
     "Good night,"  she said curtly.
     Beverly closed her eyes, hating the fact that she had just lost her temper
with her captain; more importantly, with her good friend. At the very least,
she'd gotten the thought off of her chest. From early on in service together
she'd sensed some attraction between herself and her superior officer -- the
viral intoxicant had brought that to light. Picard tended to be repressive with
his emotions, however, so she could never really be sure. That he outranked
her was in fact intimidating as well. It's probably for the best that we stay wh
ere
we are. At least it's less confusing that way, she thought at last with a resign
ed
sigh.

+++

     Some time later, as Beverly drifted in and out of sleep, she heard a
voice close to her: "Sometimes... I am satisfied with my decision to keep our
relationship professional. Sometimes... well, sometimes I do regret it."  She
lifted her head and turned groggily to see the captain, sitting crosslegged on
the grass between their sleeping units, his elbows on his knees, his face
upturned towards the stars. "For instance, Vash... "  No more was needed to be
said about that; Beverly knew that he had shared intimate time with this
pretty, young, spirited archaeologist on a vacation to Risa. "Had I not stuck
consistently to that decision I don't think we'd speak to each other. You've
been there for me, both as doctor and more importantly as a friend, more
times than I can remember."  Through his mind flashed the Sarek mind-meld,
his return from the Borg ship...
     At that moment he turned to look down at her. "It would be...  wholly
devastating to lose your friendship."
     Beverly smiled tiredly, her fingers curling over the edge of the blanket
near her chin. "We're in agreement there. Sometimes it just frustrates me not
knowing what you're thinking. Even though you take on the role of Jean-Luc
the captain too often for my liking, I like to think you can talk to me about
anything as Jean-Luc the man. I hope you know that."  The air struck up
again, sweeping across the grass softly.  "And I know that I can turn to you,
like when Jack died... "  She suddenly felt a terrible sadness wash over her,
and closed her eyes. From his elevated position he smoothed the hair near her
brow. "...and like now."
     He smiled tenderly, although the doctor was fast falling asleep and
could not appreciate it.  "Sleep well, Beverly."

+++

     Deanna came out of sleep with a strange sensation that was almost
frightening. It was coming from the captain, and it was such a feeling of
turbulence like none she had known from him. She pushed herself up out of
her bag to see him sitting near the sleeping Beverly. She concentrated very
hard to get a feeling of what he was so troubled about -- it was about the
doctor, undoubtedly. He was likely torn between his emotions and his duty, as
he had often revealed to her as counselor. Deanna lay back down on her
pillow and closed her mind to it, for it was undoubtedly a private storm.
     When Deanna woke next, feeling refreshed and untroubled, she saw
Will by the fire, and decided to join him. Almost inaudibly she asked him,
"Did you sleep well?"
     "Like a baby. Haven't slept so well for as long as I can remember. Just
wanted to cherish this time before duty, peace and quiet."  He gestured for her
to sit beside him, which she cheerfully did. He pointed to the captain and the
doctor, and asked, "So what do you think went on over there?"  The captain
was asleep next to Beverly, his head nestled close to her own.
     What she sensed now was a reversal of her earlier empathic efforts:
both of them were very untroubled. "I wonder that myself. During the night I
awoke feeling a great sense of pain from the captain. Now his mind is free of
that pain. I can only imagine they have discussed what the problem was."
     Riker grinned. "Maybe they didn't discuss a thing."
     Deanna looked at him scornfully. "That's not like our captain."
     "This is not like any other night,"  Riker reminded her.

+++

     Twelve hours after arriving in the holodeck, and a full night's sleep
later, Beverly Crusher woke to see the same stars over her head and to hear
the voice of Deanna nearby, quiet and happy. She and Will had been talking,
most recently about their captain and their doctor unbeknownst to Beverly or
Jean-Luc. Deanna and Will were sitting by the fire -- Deanna's long hair, down
from its braid, haloed orange with the fire's light, and around her face. Will
was smiling, basking in the warmth of the fire and of present company.
     Beverly was comfortable and well-rested. She was scheduled for duty in
about an hour, as were the rest of them, but as for right now she had no desire
whatsoever to move for she knew not when she would feel so relaxed again.
Jean-Luc was right, I did need this.
     It was then she realized that Jean-Luc had fallen asleep very close to
her, under a corner of her blanket, half on the grass. His head was on the edge
of her pillow; his other hand was outstretched and rested on her own arm. Her
first thought was wondering what Will and Deanna made of it. Obviously she
and the captain had been very content in sleep; Deanna could certainly
perceive that.
     More importantly than that: Beverly was immensely amused. She was
reminded of Wesley's sleepless nights as a child of three when she would
cradle him in her own bed until he fell asleep. To imagine the captain reduced
to this... she very nearly snickered at the idea.
     She turned over and reached to shake his shoulder. "Jean-Luc,"  she
whispered, "wake up."
     He was plunged deep into a dream, and mumbled, "Darling... "
     Will and Deanna had certainly heard that, for smiles bloomed on both
of their faces. Beverly shook him again, repeating, "Jean-Luc, wake up."
     Sleepily he replied, "Dear... please... not on duty yet... "
     So much for the minute-man... thought she.
     Now the counselor and the commander whispered to one another,
apparently in the belief that much more had actually happened on that side of
the fire. Beverly said to them, "This isn't what you think."
     Riker, eyes ever-twinkling, replied, "Of course not, doctor." Obvious
sarcasm brimmed in his voice. Deanna covered her mouth with her fingertips
to stifle a giggle.
     The two of them stood, and Deanna stretched her arms over her head.
"What a delightful night. However... I must report for duty..."
     "As do I,"  added Will.
     "...so you, doctor, can be left to awaken our slumbering captain, any
way you see fit. See you on the bridge,"  Deanna finished with a touch of
playfulness. Riker called for the arch, and the two of them left the holodeck.
     When the computer's time hit 700 hours, the program began to change,
a sort of built-in failsafe: the fire went down to embers, and the sky began to
warm with the first rays of the sun.
     As predictable as clockwork, Picard began to rouse awake from the
ruddy haze of daybreak. For a moment he was utterly disoriented, and
muttered, "Where the devil... ?"  as he sat up on one elbow, blinking the sleep
from his eyes. Upon seeing his close proximity to the lovely doctor, he quickly
sat up stick straight and tugged down the bottom of his jacket in habit,
snapping back into his role as captain. "Good morning, Doctor Crusher."
     "Jean-Luc. Sunrise here is breathtaking,"  she responded, her hair and
skin aglow with the warm rays of the Earth sun, and her smile rivalling it.
     He was evidently between a rock and a hard place, and replied, as if he
felt compelled to do so, "It certainly is."
     She took in a long breath of fresh morning air, and sighed.
     Changing the subject he said, true to form, "Duty's approaching. We
should get back to quarters and change."  He stood and called out, "Computer,
end pro-- "
     Before he could finish she countered his call:  "Computer, belay that
order. Jean-Luc, you're doing it again, being the captain and not being the
man. At the very least, sit down here with me and let the sun finish rising."


               Copyright 1993 by Sandra Guzdek
Standard disclaimers about Paramount, and threats of death for
                     plagiarism, apply.