Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

old habits slowly die

CHAPTER I

"Thank you for sharing the honor and accompanying me." Troi smiled and touched her friends' shoulder warmly. "I was surprised when the Captain told me yesterday that his comrade and roommate from Academy days would be visiting our ship and assisting us on our next mission. I'm curious to see if he has any saucy stories or hidden secrets to share. Can you imagine the times, Beverly?”

With a disarming grin, the petite Counselor nodded her head in the direction of the transporter room they were heading for. She'd spontaneously decided to ask her best friend for some company during lunch some time earlier. The doctor hadn't refused to take a short break, perhaps only because she was as curious as Troi. Maybe even more so. "After all, he knew our captain when he was young and wild and... still had some hair left." Beverly shot a sideways glance at the much smaller woman standing directly next to her and came to a full stop after passing the last doors.

Her elegant features were full of hidden nasty remarks that fought to come to the surface. Chewing down a particular spicy one, Beverly tilted her head, suppressing the sweet delight of having her thoughts to herself again. "Stop adding insult to my injury, Dee. You know very well that I knew him then, too. Or, to be precise, not so many years later." An energetic laugh es-caped both women at the same time and made the transporter chief, who was waiting behind his station, shift uncomfortably on his feet.

"One ready to beam aboard, Doctor, Counselor." He said, his fingertips running expertly over the consoles. Still smiling, Crusher nodded in agreement. "There you go, Mr. O'Brian." Relieved to be doing something constructive while they continued to gossip, he initiated the side-to-side transport.

The usual blue shimmer soon disappeared, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered man with rusty hair, bright blue eyes, and pale freckled skin, wearing a red uniform with the rank of Commander. His round face immediately turned up at the sight of his female welcome party, his body straightening at the same time.

"Commander Zweller, welcome aboard the Enterprise." The Betazoid let go of Beverly's arm and turned to him. "I'm Counselor Deanna Troi..." she said friendly, stepping forward, a big satisfied smile on her Greek-like features.

"Well, Counselor, thank you for the warm welcome. It's just Cortin, or as my friends call me, Corey. It's nice of Johnny to send the loveliest ladies in Starfleet just to pick up an old man."

He grinned as he took the significant younger woman's offered hand affectionately. "I see there are some privileges that come with commanding the famous flag ship."

Deanna felt sympathy invade her mind, a mixture of surprise, joy, and a distinct sense of unease. She had found nothing out of the ordinary so far, and was almost surprised to find a friend of her Captain's being so unexpectedly warm and forward. Reaching for his bag, he stepped down from the transporter pad, Deanna at his side.

Eventually, his anxious eyes found Crusher, suddenly unusually reserved and still pinned to her spot. He caught and held her strange gaze, inhaling uncomfortably as an obvious surprise washed over his handsome face when stepping closer. Something in her impressive aura im-mediately unsettled him. Pulling himself together, he forced a thin smile and shook off his vague feelings.

"And the famous Commander is also the Chief Medical Officer, Doctor Beverly Crusher, I presume." Fortunately, he had done his homework and gathered all the information he could about the crew and the ship. At least the official ones. He swallowed the intimate things he had pushed aside in his mind, realizing now that he was nowhere near as well prepared as he had thought.

"That old bastard I've called a friend for so many years has a way of understatement that is incomprehensible to me. I really need to have a serious talk with him. About... a lot of things."

He gently took her slender hand, his striking blue eyes traveling automatically over her captivating curves. "I don't think his descriptions ever did you justice, Doctor." He couldn't help him-self, biting his tongue inwardly at his own cheeky boldness.

Crusher took a few seconds to swallow her instinctively rising temper, ready for the specific acerbic remark that would really have an effect on him. She'd learned the hard way not to comment on her thoughts the moment they popped into her head. Quickly covering her irritation and sharp mouth with a simple, sympathetic smile, she squeezed his warm, strong hand.

Picard had told her about his friends allures and how often they'd gotten them into trouble. About their nightly dom-jot games in the best and worst bars in San Francisco and, of course, about the night he'd lost his biological heart to the Nausicaan aggressor.

Cortin Zweller had been in that fight with him, and he had been the one to call for medical assistance immediately afterward. He had saved his life, which had been violently penetrated by a Nausicaan blade. Because of him Jean-Luc had an opportunity to get his shattered organ replaced with an artificial one at least.

His stories about it, when told, were brief and only to help her manage the medical treatment when necessary. The interpersonal aspect was lost in the process, while she still hoped to learn more about his younger, bolder self. After the last incident with his heart and his near death, they had sat together over dinner and talked about the what-ifs and lost opportunities. Until that evening, she hadn't even known that Picard and Cmdr Zweller were still in contact.

Looking into his open and curious eyes, Crusher was somewhat perplexed that he had found the time, the opportunity and especially the need to talk about her at all, while she had no idea about Zweller. She'd thought she knew Jean-Luc better than that, after all this time.

"Welcome aboard, Commander. Since our Captain is busy preparing for the negotiations, you'll have to deal with me until he can get to you." Observing Jean-Luc's friend more closely, Beverly finally wondered what he had told this stranger. Even things about their odd, so-called 'friend-ship'?

Something told her they had talked about more than she would have appreciated.

Suddenly, the ship's intercom came to life, abruptly interrupting her thoughts.

"Lt. Branson to Counselor Troi."

Deanna groaned in frustration, sensing the slowly building tension between the two redheads as they ogled each other.

She tapped her communicator absentmindedly and sighed. "Troi here!" She grimaced slightly as the realization dawned on her. "Gosh, I'm sorry. I guess I forgot we were supposed to meet, hold on, I'm almost there!" With a last, regretful look at her friend and her new companion and definitely more sorry about her own fate in missing the following events, the smaller woman hurried out of the door in a matter of seconds. Crusher quickly caught her breath, regained her composure and offered Zweller a reassuring but thin smile.

"Apparently our welcome party is over. So... shall we move on? I can show you to your quarters, if I may. Surely Sickbay can spare me a few more minutes." "It would be my pleasure," he bowed slightly, hooking one arm underneath and slinging his bag over his other shoulder. "To be brought by Johnny's greatest asset."

=/\=

"Computer, raise lights." As she nimbly opened the doors to his assigned quarters and stepped inside, the tall man followed close behind. Carelessly dropping his simple bag just behind the door, he walked over, ignored the room and immediately headed for the replicator. Entering a few commands manually, he turned his back on her. "You have a drink with me?"

Staring at him from behind and running a hand through her hair, Beverly was at a loss for words. She couldn't deny the growing anxiety of being alone in a room with him. He hadn't done anything to raise her suspicions or earn her distrust. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that he was up to something she certainly wouldn't like. The silence stretched as he continued to manipulate the replicator. "Come on, Doctor. It's just a drink and nothing binding. Be bold and throw caution to the wind." Zweller grumbled worriedly. Apparently he had finished his work and looked at the device with satisfaction. "I'm really looking forward to finally see the real face and hear the true story of this intriguing woman I heard so much of."

Still watching his back, she fought her unmistakable instincts to simply run off. Superficial politeness had never been one of her best qualities. And why the hell was he so eager? Why on her? Sure, Jean-Luc had told him a lot about his crew and his ship. But his open curiosity was only directed at her. She felt it, even if he tried to cover it up with some kind of creepy flirtation. But in the end, they had nothing in common, even though they had the same friend. This man, even though he was twenty years older than her, turned around and blatantly looked at her like a precious trophy. Her growling stomach turned up and down. Was she imagining things and he was just trying to get in touch with his friends friend? Beverly instinctively decided on a definite 'no'.

"Yes, ahhh... thank you, but I should be getting back to my shift and my patients," she stated flatly, hoping he would get the hint and just drop the subject. But he didn't.

"Two glasses of champagne. 10 degrees." Zweller ordered unimpressed, following his train of thought. Taking both, he turned and stepped closer, his eyes glued to hers again. Beverly in-haled sharply, slowly becoming annoyed with his direct, almost insulting manner.

"I'm very glad we could meet alone." Winking at her, he paused and tilted his head. "Before that old grump would have prohibited all my well-laid plans. And I am deadly serious. We should have a real talk, my dear Doctor. It took a lot of preparation to get this... thing together." He took one of the elegant flutes into his hand, closed his long, slender fingers around it, and then suddenly his lips twisted into a broad, conspiratorial smile.

She knew immediately that Jean-Luc's cherished privacy would soon be invaded. Now she was really in need of some real alcohol, which he had obviously managed to produce after his manipulation of the replicator. She raised the glass to her lips as she glared at him over the rim, her eyes flashing with anger. Beverly drowned the offered liquid in one big gulp. "All right, then please, spit it out."

His spirits soared already as he grinned triumphantly and watched her kill the fine beverage in a matter of seconds. That could get interesting.

=/\=

"Cmdr Zweller boarded one hour ago, Captain." Riker lifted his eyes from the small screen in front of him and looked at his superior, who was just emerging from his ready room after hours of working through the mission facts and Starfleet issues. Still disappointed that he had sent Deanna alone to greet the mysterious man and friend of his Captain, he felt compelled to follow up.

"I'm anxious to meet your roommate, I believe there are many youthful follies to tell."

Picard dropped silently and leaned back in the captain's seat, unsuccessfully suppressing a deep, displeased grunt. "Just what I needed, Number One."

Rubbing his beard thoughtfully, Riker stifled a laugh as he watched the elder proceed evenly without even looking at him.

"You know Will, someone to spill the beans."

The thought of getting to know a new side of the man he had worked with for years, truly amazed him. But he still had to be careful not to cross the invisible line. His captain was a private man, always had been. But that was part of the attraction. It was not for nothing that some of the betting pots grew incredibly large over time. The thought alone brought a huge and typical grin to his face, showing his perfect teeth. "Ahhhh, but I would like that."

He was far too eager for his liking. Clearing his throat, Picard shifted uncomfortably and finally rose from his seat with defeat in his eyes. "Number One, you have the bridge. Since you're con-templating this nonsense, I'll try to do something more reasonable." Seeing his captain's eyes sparkle with a hidden mischief he'd rarely seen before, the Commander was sure that some very interesting days and perhaps some new profitable bets would follow.

=/\=

Pressing the chime, Jean-Luc Picard waited patiently but anxiously for the doors to open. He hadn't seen his friend in person for over ten years. He had only spoken to him by subspace message now and then, maybe once a year. Over the past year, their contact had increased, though he couldn't really remember why. By chance, he had called at night, when the ship finally slept and the silence came. When even the doctor had left his quarters after dinner and he couldn't stand the emptiness that stretched deep inside him.

“Corey…”

The Commanders face grew wide with joy.

“Gosh, Johnny…”

His once fiery copper hair had taken on a few gray strands, and his piercing baby blue eyes, though they still held the youth and energy of days gone by, were rounded by well-deserved wrinkles. Picard couldn't help but feel thrown back to his Academy days. Their different ranks alone belied the familiar old atmosphere. Yesterday washed over him like a giant wave, full of memories. Not only good ones, in retrospect. He unceremoniously hugged his friend, who was still standing in the doorway. Picard involuntarily glanced over his friend's shoulder and froze, his heart suddenly pounding in agony.

He watched just as Beverly placed an empty glass on the coffee table, her back to them and her shoulders trembling with emotion. Various thoughts instantly choked him. What did Zweller tell her? What did she tell him? And why, for God's sake, was she even here? He'd sent Deanna on purpose and nobody else.

When she finally turned, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glistened with moisture. Picard felt his stomach rumble with tension just at the uncomfortable sight of her.

Things hadn't been going well between them the last few days. She had withdrawn, ignoring his attempts to salvage their friendship after the awful events on KesPrytt and the evening af-ter. The more he tried to fix his failure in suggesting to explore their feelings further, the more she tried to avoid him. He was about to give up. Even if it meant being alone for the rest of his life. Picard simply couldn't bear the thought of forcing Beverly into something she didn't want. Even the outstanding fact that she had confessed her love for him in a weak moment and only because he was able to hear her thoughts obviously didn't change her prejudices against him and her fear of getting closer. Maybe she didn't trust her feelings as much as he did.

Clearing her throat, she gave him this unique forlorn look and absently brushed a few strawberry strands from her face.

He swallowed each rash comment and grimaced slightly at seeing her so distressed, feeling his gut rumble simultaneously.

"I see... you two have already met," the Captain hummed hesitantly, unable to hide his slowly growing annoyance at seeing her for the first time in a week. In Commander Cortin Zweller's quarters. He should’ve sent Data or Worf or Geordi... or…

Zweller smiled unperturbed, thanking himself for the fortunate circumstances in which they now found themselves by sheer coincidence, and took a step further into the room, letting the doors close behind him. "Your lovely doctor and your admittedly also pretty little Counselor were so kind to pick me up in the transporter room while you were digging through dusty files." He raised his now half-empty glass and grinned triumphantly at his friend. "I am still amazed you have managed to hide this stunning lady so well all these years."

Picard became numb as he stared at her blushing, enticing face and quivering lips. But there was no stopping the Commander.

"It's a shame I have to spend my precious time with the grumpy workaholic you have apparently become, when there is such a wonderful opportunity to spend it with a magnificent lady like this."

And even though he knew that Corey was blatantly teasing him as he always loved to do, it still tore cruelly at his aching, lonely heart. He had no way of knowing how much salt he was pouring into the gaping wound at that very moment.

Crusher's grim expression didn't help his growing sense of betrayal. Maybe there was something going on here, but he didn't care to know. Beverly had caused him enough pain. Seeking comfort from his friend just days after rebuffing him so thoroughly was devastating.

Finding her courage, Beverly began to move again. "I'll leave you two to wallow in your good old memories." Her voice was low and she visibly forced a smile she didn't feel. And just as sudden and without meaning to, she found herself caught between the two men by bravely making her way to the door, unable to bear the situation any longer. When she stopped, Zweller gently touched her arm, right in front of the Captain. "See you at seven?" His eyes sparkled with open, uninhibited interest.

Picard felt his hands clench into fists at his sides and his chest tighten even more, her beautiful scent and proximity intoxicating his senses. He stared at her glorious hair and imagined running his trembling hands through her silken strands, pulling her close while he squeezed his eyes shut, his blood rudely rushing downward. Abruptly becoming aware of it, Picard held his breath in panic.

"I will be there," he heard her accept Corey's offer barely audibly.

Only when the doors closed behind her, Picard exhaled. When he felt his anger rising uncontrollably to the surface along with a sudden heat displayed on his face, he took a double take to control his voice. Refusing to give his friend any satisfaction, he addressed the ominous elephant in the room. "You've been on my ship for, say, half an hour, and the first thing you do is chase after Dr. Crusher? Are you kidding me? Aren't there enough willing women on your own ship?" Turning to hide his flaming ire, he stomped over to the sofa.

Zweller choked up, forcing himself to hide the laughter that inevitably bubbled up inside at his friend's unbridled reaction. He hadn't thought to upset him so quickly. Daring a low, cautious chuckle, he followed Picard right behind. "Nice to see you as well, Johnny."

Probably this game was too easy. Both were too obviously... deeply, madly, hopelessly, even to a blind man, head over heels in love. He knew Picard was. For a long time. Perhaps even longer than he had dared to admit to himself. But now that he finally saw the object of his friend's desire acting and breathing, he quickly realized that this absurd stubbornness was just as evenly distributed. With a sigh of contentment, he took the next eagerly planned step.

"You're not going to tell me you have any objections, are you? To this... us? After all, it was you who told me there was still nothing going on between the two of you, beyond the famous coffee and croissants Picard maneuver, I mean," he scoffed with devotedly displayed satisfaction, dropping into the empty chair opposite the Captain and stretching out his legs. Even though the redhead had known him for so long, he didn't realize how quickly he could pull the right malicious strings on his friend's carefully wrapped soul.

"I mean, I'm not suddenly interrupting something you haven't told me before, am I? Surely it is possible that something has changed since our last communication three weeks ago. As I recall, every attempt has been thwarted by your stupid pride in being truly honest for... oh, let's see... about twenty years or so?" He was just beginning his well-prepared and studied lecture. And as he observed Picard's even more petrified mask, Zweller bathed in the knowledge that he was working on the Captain's most vulnerable spot. "I suppose you had enough time to think about the what-ifs and decide to act on them. Correct me if I'm wrong, but if nothing has changed... forgive my bluntness... clear the precious space for me. I'm not willing to miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” His eyebrows raised into a provocative grin, waiting for the witty and usual sarcastic response he was accustomed to and hoping for.

Picard felt the massive weight on his shoulders push him down, barely able to control his boiling blood. He had been blind. And a damned coward. For years. Decades. The fact that some-thing had actually changed in that ridiculous tiny amount of time was even worse. He simply wished that this damned mission and the following evening had never happened. Knowing what he knew now made it even more unbearable. Waking up every bloody morning with this new certainty of her unexpected but severe feelings for him, when at the same time her fear was stronger than them, left him speechless beyond compare. Their friendship had suddenly gone from awkward to maddening. Years of dancing around each other, sometimes colliding for a second, thinking it could finally happen, only to drift apart just as quickly, had made them already more than sensitive to every hidden glance or the slightest physical contact. But now Picard could not bring himself to look into her eyes without flinching in pain.

In a way, his so-called friend was definitely right. He was a damn coward when it came to Beverly Crusher. But then… who the hell did Zweller think he was, storming onto his ship and claiming any interest in her benefits right after meeting her for the first time. Even worse, knowing Zweller as he did, this man seemed to express unabashed primarily interest in her… body as well. But unfortunately, Picard’s ego quickly won the upper hand in his inner dispute. He chose to be resolute. "She's not my property, Corey. And in fact, it's none of her captain’s goddamn business where she’s laying her head on."

Zweller could not believe the level of stupidity his friend had achieved. Against all odds, against all his long-hidden feelings, yes, against all the obvious circumstances, Picard still re-fused to accept that he could be futilely wrong in doing nothing instead of finally taking the risk to act for his own sake. And for Beverly's as well. He stifled a frustrated sigh. It was obvious that the doctor had been absolutely right to be afraid of getting involved with someone so overly controlled. A man who claimed to be head over heels in love, but who was simply incapable of even trying to fight for her when necessary. Just because he snapped his fingers, she wouldn't just jump into his arms after all this time. Not in a million years would either of them swallow their pride if they continued like this. Zweller couldn't believe his friend was being so pathetic and selfish. Beverly had just told him that he hadn't even tried to follow her the night after KesPrytt. Or at least questioned her true motives. He could have helped her to overcome her innermost fears just by showing some courage. Why did the ever strong-minded, all so heroic man Picard take this weakling route and back out from a single woman? Why did he think taking the simplest road was an option when his artificial heart depended so much on it?

After the previous, rather sluggish conversation with the attractive doctor, Corey was still perplexed that they had even declared their long-buried feelings for each other not so long ago. Even if it had been under the influence of the Prytt device, by force and only mentally. But could it become more honest and more authentic than that? When it was not carefully put into nicely phrased words but sent blunt and directly with all the accompanying frank emotions? His decision to intervene in the longstanding, sickening scene had come only a few days before this mission. Maybe they would be a big step ahead by now if this named evening hadn't end-ed the way it obviously did. What exactly was holding them back? Surely it couldn't be some effect of hurt pride only. Perhaps it was time to redouble the efforts and rip his friend’s well secured walls down.

"I must admit, I am truly amazed, Johnny. She really is an extraordinary woman... with all the right attributes." Gesturing with both hands and drawing well rounded shapes in the air, Corey continued with a grin. "I just never thought you would pass up such a truly stunning lady. That would never have happened in the past, if I remember correctly."

Leaning forward slowly, Zweller examined his mute friend, provocation clearly written on his freckled face. "You said it yourself, didn't you? Over and over until my ears started bleeding."

Finally, Picard's mouth opened and closed, then reopened. A bitter taste had formed on his tongue, keeping his anger at bay. "It's not that simple, and you know it, Corey." He spat. "I'm not the man of those days anymore. A long time has passed since we were young, childish and full of hormones."

The redhead's eyebrows raised in surprise and he chuckled slightly amused. "Ahhh I see, it’s the age which made you completely blind, my friend."

Raising his hand to stop the Commander from continuing his ridiculous interview, Picard shook his head, trying to remain at least reasonable. "We have a long history, Corey. You already know that. I value our friendship and would never risk losing it because of a few rash decisions made out of pure carnal desire." He knew it wasn't that simple and rash was an absurd wording describing his well-hidden longings. He had dreamed about changing things for such a long time. Just like he had desired her to be more than a friend since the day they had first met.

She had to know what he was like inside, after finally admitting her own feelings at the fire site.

Instead she'd told him to let go as soon as the devices had been removed. They should be afraid. Of what? He'd been scared to death of these unwanted emotions and nauseating vulnerability ever since she'd entered his life. All he knew now was, that she had walked out on him that night without looking back. Her cruelty to his feelings was beyond horrible. Smothering his obvious pain, he closed his eyes.

His counterpart nodded in agreement, displaying the image of being pleased but inwardly ap-palled by his smug response. Zweller had made his choice. "Fortunately, all your foolish bur-dens don't apply to me at all. My mind and body are fully capable of acting only on hormones, desire, and instinct. I'm just a lucky guy, if you ask me." Sipping his glass of champagne, he studied his friend, letting the threat sink in. It was truly obvious that there was much more to it than the polite reluctance his friend was hiding behind. The ever so calm Captain. A pain in the ass. It definitely was time to drag him out of his protective shell.

Thirty years ago, they had shared many naughty events and experiences. The girls had never complained. Except when they had met each other by chance. Sadly, this lighter side of his comrade and his once healthy appetite for risk and fun had disappeared into the infinity of space, replaced by his overactive sense of duty and sickening sense of guilt.

But Zweller had only just begun his reference. "Her curves look very... very inviting, her endless legs alone, my God... you can't tell me you've never indulged in some hot fantasies. Just imagining this infinite temptations will wrap around my hips..."

Picard shot up abruptly. "Stop it right now! Do not push this too far, Cortin," he snapped through clenched teeth, his ears turning red with embarrassment and his well-controlled temper slowly slipping. Straightening his uniform tunic, his stern face loaded with disgust, he moved forward, his heart pounding in his ears. "Actually, I was going to invite an old friend of mine for a wonderful late dinner tonight, but apparently you're already busy arguing with your raging hormones." Clutching his last nerve like a straw, he massaged his temples, a headache slowly forming between them, throbbing along with his anxious heartbeat. "I'm soon needed back on the bridge. I'll expect you in the observation lounge in two hours for the prep meeting."

Watching Zweller continue to dwell on his obvious desires, he finally let out a ragged breath, defeat creeping up his spine. The insolence with which his friend presumed to challenge him left him struggling for intelligent, polite words. "Call me if you need anything, Corey." Picard’s hoarse voice almost betrayed him, revealing the anguish that ran through his veins.

Looking up, his friend pulled a pensive but amused face. "If I didn't know you better, I'd think you were really pissed off, Johnny. I didn't steal your damn doll, did I?" He got out of his seat as well and came closer quickly. He hadn't expected him to be so slow on the uptake. Maybe this wasn't going to be as easy as he had intended at first. Could it really be so hard to comprehend and decide to just... act? "Stop fooling around, Jean-Luc. It is a shame to deprive her of some well-deserved amusement because of your old-fashioned attitudes. Unless you are willing to get something going with her, please..." Zweller groaned haughtily. "Give me the freedom to do so. And let me tell you one thing, I'm very interested." Corey moved even closer, fixing Jean-Luc with a serious, hard look, trying to further challenge his annoyance. His opponent's chest tightened even more, leaving him barely room to breathe.

Forcing his growing anger down by sheer will, Jean-Luc seemed to register his friend's insult, the cold words. He was right, in a way. In a sick and mad, especially painful way. And he didn't have to like it one bit. Zweller wasn't responsible for his inability to act and be truly honest when it came to his CMO and best friend. Besides, she'd made herself very clear. Beverly definitely didn't want to explore their non-existent relationship any further. No matter why.

His throat was dry with grief and anger when he finally spoke again. "I am truly sorry, my dear friend. You're absolutely, undeniably right." He knew he didn't sound nearly as unperturbed as he intended, but he went on anyway. "Dr. Crusher's sex life is definitely none of her Captain's business." His voice was sharp, dripping with sarcasm and rasping with distress. "Please feel free to indulge in any morbid adventure you wish." With that, he turned and left Zweller's quarters without looking back.

He could still feel his blood pulsing through his body like a gathering thunderstorm. He stomped down the corridor of Deck Nine to the lift that took him up to the Bridge. Crewmembers passed by, his brain raged and his feet moved on their own. He only wished he'd never accepted Zweller's assistance on this upcoming mission. It was hard enough fighting his own demons and shattered dreams.

But he would respect her wishes and work on restoring their friendship. He had to. And if that meant accepting her fear, then he wouldn't dare risk anything by pushing too hard. The deep respect he felt for Beverly didn't allow any bold attempts to simply change her mind. Zweller knew nothing. She would swallow him up and spit him out; to approach her uninvited would be his coffin. She wasn't one of those "girls" Corey usually sought out for company. Beverly was definitely out of his league. Growling to himself, he stepped into the turbolift, the doors closing behind him. "Bridge," he barked roughly, his eyes fixed on the carpeted floor. But it was downright maddening. Why now, when everything felt complicated enough, did this guy from the past have to show off? This damned charming, easy-going flatterer with his un-nerving attitude towards all female audiences. Zweller was well practiced in dealing with situations and people. Too well practiced. There were a few rumors and secrets about Cortin Zweller that he couldn't quite put his finger on. A few years ago he had heard something about him being a member of Section 31. Maybe he should talk to Marta, she'd been close to both of them since the Academy. He hadn't heard from her since. But after reliving the events surrounding the complete loss of his human heart to Q, he had no desire to reestablish any contact with her as well. Shrugging off the uncomfortable restlessness that accompanied his anger, he stepped onto his bridge.

=/\=

Slowly, the observation lounge filled with his officers. LaForge, Worf and Data joined him in a group, Riker and Deanna followed close behind. That left two empty seats directly in front of him, one to the left, one to the right. He gave them five more minutes as he stood in front of the large table, slowly getting more and more annoyed inside. It wasn't that he had to wait, he often did when sickbay was busy. It was about who was late with whom, and that they were late together. Deanna shot him a questioning look, sensing his growing tension and now real reluctance. She couldn't tell if he was feeling this because of the upcoming mission or because of something else.

The Enterprise had been sent to Mercur IV to deliver medical equipment and establish some diplomatic boundaries; they would arrive soon and meet with the Council in the morning. After decades of civil war, the peace was fragile and help was needed to improve the devastated situation. Perhaps headquarters had sent Zweller to discover some discrepancies between the government and the public. They were obviously hiding something.

When the doors parted again, they strode in, chatting animatedly. And his heart petrified the second time this day.

"Doctor Crusher, Commander Zweller, I'm glad you both could make it," he spat out, giving both of his friends a stern look. Not nearly as sharp as he would have liked. Observing them exchange a surprised look made his stomach churn again with disgust. The air sizzled with charged energy, filling the room and spreading a stressed atmosphere palpable to all present. Immediately, he felt Troi's scrutinizing eyes on him again. Now she knew why.

The intensity of the feelings that emanated from his mind nearly took her breath away. Gasping slightly, the Counselor closed her dark eyes and raised her inner walls against the barely concealed thunderclap that rattled her emphatic brain.

Clearing his throat, the Captain stood straight.

"Well, let's start with the briefing. Lt Cmdr Data, since you have developed all the schedules and logistics, you have the floor."

Sinking into his seat, he noticed Beverly staring at him. Just for a second, her fiery blue eyes bored into him, challenging him. His heart missed a beat. Or was it just his imagination? Her gaze faded at the same moment, softening back to normal. Looking down at his folded hands, he decided that avoiding everything was the safest way to stay calm down and deal with this new 'situation'. His skin tingled with emotion, the thrill sending shivers down his limbs. All con-centration gone, he helplessly fixed the polished surface of the table.

Relieved when the briefing finally ended, he rubbed his chin. Admittedly, he hadn't been able to contribute much.

"Thank you all for your opinions and efforts. I appreciate it. Dismissed." Stiffly rising from his seat, he felt Beverly's intense eyes on him again. ‘Damn that woman’, cursed his mind automatically, echoing in his heart and paralyzing his movements.

"May I have a word with you, Captain?" he heard Troi say.

Torn out of his reverie, he glared at Beverly with growing intensity and suddenly saw Deanna also approach to his right.

"Not now, Counselor," he warned, waving her away. First, he would have a word with his CMO. Right here.

The smaller woman's dark eyes followed his pained gaze to Beverly, who had been helped to her feet by Zweller, offering a supporting hand. The Commander was blatantly flirting with his best friend right in front of their eyes. Finally he touched her arm and lead her all the way out. She didn't look back.

Deanna could tell there was little left of his notorious Captain's self-control.

"Sir." Troi insisted soothingly.

"What!" he barked disgruntled.

Leaning closer, she lowered her voice. "Sir, you better talk to her later to set things right. Otherwise, you may regret saying something now out of pure anger.” Picard avoided her pleading eyes with an aching chest. He didn't know if it was just his damned wounded pride or the fact that she didn't even blink at the thought of moving into something with his next close friend while she’d claimed to be in love with him. Just the thought of the possibility made him sick.

"Stay out of my business, Counselor. That's all. Our conversation is hereby over," he concluded, leaving no room for more arguments.

"Captain," Deanna pressed again, gently touching his shoulder. She searched his eyes, watching the emotions clouding his mind dangerously.

"Do not advise me. I am fully capable of handling this... impertinence."

Chapter Text

Chapter II

Standing outside her quarters at 9 p.m., convinced that Beverly should be back by now, he was dressed in that special simple olive shirt and black, slim-fitting pants he knew she appreciated so much and tried hard to concentrate on the words he had planned to say. Shifting from one foot to the other, Picard was sure there was no "right way" without beating around the bush to tell her to watch out for Zweller and his mere carnal intentions. Not without getting exposed and embarrass himself. After all, he certainly didn't want to set off her famous temper as well. But at least his previous anger had almost died down, along with his rage. Maybe he was just seeing things, and his current particularly sensitive heart was just overreacting. After all, they had survived enough affairs in the past years, knowing that the other one would still be there when they ended - again. With all the pain that it entailed.

Beverly would never shut him out like that, as a friend. Not after everything they'd been through. Corey must have misinterpreted her kindness, perhaps feeling flattered already by the sparse attention from this beautiful, strong-willed woman.

However, he had clearly chosen the wrong hunting grounds to look for fresh meat.

In addition, Corey knew exactly how he, his friend, felt about his CMO. He'd told him more than once, to be honest. Maybe too many times. He was one of his oldest and dearest friends. One he could always talk to... or so he'd thought.

Beverly was his anchor. The one, he became aware, he wasn't ready to give up yet or at all. Maybe it wasn't meant to be more as long as she kept being afraid, but frankly, she was and always would be a main part of his life. Probably the only main part besides his career.

Enjoying breakfast with her, exploring the most unusual dishes or simply relishing their beloved croissants, discussing upcoming missions or even listening with growing fascination to her re-count the latest gossip that spread through Sickbay or the entire ship every day had been his steady rhythm, his undeniable hold and the most wonderful thing he looked forward to when he woke up each morning. Marvelling at her sharp mind and mouth while she was busy talking or erasing her food had always been a highlight to start the day with. He knew that now more than ever, after sitting alone at that damn table for a week.

But there were also some things he had never been able to discuss with Beverly. Things and thoughts that were directly related to her. She would be more than embarrassed to know where his mind wandered sometimes when she wasn't paying attention. But he was. Always hiding it behind a gentle facade, a tiny smile or a decent cough, trying to regain his composure and suppress the rising heat that made his cheeks flush.

Corey was the only one he'd ever dared to admit some of this foolish behavior to. Their sub-space communications had been brief until he'd met him on this station a few years ago, when he was still Captain of the Stargazer. In a fit of recklessness and impaired by a glass or two of Aldebaran whiskey, he had revealed his emotional turmoil to his equally drunken friend.

These calls became more frequent. This culminated in weekly calls in the last few months, with Picard sharing some interesting but lengthy musings at night, unable to sleep or even relax be-cause of her again. It had simply been easier to talk to someone who wasn't involved and who was far enough away. And it had been damned coward. Just now he became aware that a real talk with the good counselor might have been certainly more difficult, but it would've improved their situation a lot more than nightly tirades and one-sided confessions.

But Corey would never ignore his best friend's feelings so blatantly. Wouldn't he? He pressed the chime with trembling fingers again and stared at her still closed door. He had been standing here far too long.

"Computer, location of Dr. Beverly Crusher." Kicking himself for not asking sooner, he dropped his eyes to the floor.

"Doctor Crusher is in Ten Forward." 'What the...' Pushing forward he marched to the turbolift, his path a new mission.

The bar of the Enterprise was busy. Unusually crowded for this time of day. Hardly anyone noticed the Captain as he entered, since he was out of uniform like most of the other guests. Slowly scanning the crowd, Picard couldn't spot her right away. He pushed his way through the people, headed for the bar and greeted some of the known officers passing by. Taking a seat, he tried to calm down, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly uncomfortable in public with all these things going on in his head. He jumped slightly when a glass of Saurian brandy was dropped right in front of him.

"Thought you might need some." Looking up, he met the mysterious dark eyes of Guinan leaning over the bar. A tender, compassionate smile crossed her lips.

"Looking for someone special, Jean-Luc?" her warm voice wrapped around him like an old, beloved blanket. The sparkle in her eyes told him she already knew. With a slight grimace, Picard took his brandy and gulped it down, his eyes never leaving the El-Aurian bartender.

Her enormous purple hat bowed as she nodded toward the window tables and shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe it's time for a change of tactics, Captain."

Turning, the crowd parted in slow motion, revealing the person he had come for. And more. Stunned, he watched as Beverly leaned forward, dressed in that beautiful blue oversized sweater he loved so much, her hand on Corey's, her flushed face almost touching his as he whispered something in her ear. Laughing out loud, she threw her head back, her illustrious hair swaying across her bare, creamy shoulder. Her eyes glistened with tears. Corey patted her hand, taking obvious pleasure in her appearance. As she tucked a golden strand behind her ear, Beverly caught herself, still giggling. Picard hadn't seen her laugh like that in years.

Gosh, she was stunning. Or rather painfully gorgeous. He swallowed hard, feeling the tightness return to his lungs and grip his throat. Cold sweat glistened on his forehead as his fingertips silently dug deep into his thighs to force the tremors down.

"Oh, you're offended, Jean Luc?" Guinan said absently to his back, now intently wiping the already blank surface of the bar.

This can't happen, not again, went through his clouded mind.

When he turned around, Guinan could see his red face, hot and fiery.

"Bring me another one of those." He ordered through clenched teeth, his eyes watering a little, unquestioningly.

The El-Aurian let out a breath of rising frustration and shook her head. "I didn't know you would give up fighting so easily. You are praised for your resilience and stubbornness. Not to mention diplomacy." Placing a new glass in front of him, Guinan looked at him. "Although this is a private matter, I suggest you prepare to defend your claims."

His eyebrows rose and he met her bewildered gaze. "Pardon me, but what if it's not appreciated?" He laughed at himself. It wasn’t for the first time he felt utterly foolish when Beverly was involved.

"Excuse me, Captain, but how can you know... when you haven't even tried seriously yet?"

This must be a damn joke. It couldn't be that easy. He had, for once. He had overcome his fears and told her his feelings, if not in all dimensions, but he had tried. Somehow. And yet Beverly ran through his hands again and he watched it happen. He hadn't even dealt with Jack. Not to mention Ambassador Odan or that bloody ghostlike creature Ronin. He swallowed the second brandy and stood, seeing Guinan struggle with some sort of hesitation.

“Captain?”

Growling inwardly, he could not believe his bad luck today. Commander William T. Riker swiftly strode up to him and patted his shoulder – his energy level visibly glowing.

"Nice to see you around here. Have a drink with me, sir?" He leaned his massive form casually against the bar and gave Picard his famous toothy grin. The Captain forced a weak smile and quickly shook his head. "I was just leaving, Will. But... thank you. Good night." His temper steered him out of the room almost on autopilot. When the doors closed behind him, he was finally able to breathe again, almost afraid his lungs would burn.

***

"He just left." Narrowing her eyes, Beverly shifted in her seat. "You should've warned me be-fore he came in," she scolded further.

Corey leaned back in his chair and watched her intently. "Do you regret our little... charade, already?"

Beverly rested her head on her hand and absentmindedly drew little circles with the straw in the greenish glass of her martini, pushing the single olive around in circles. “I told you… I don’t want him to get hurt just because of… me.” She whispered.

Her counterpart nodded, a small laugh escaping his mouth. "I can clearly see why he is so crazy about you. The more I get to know you, the more I have to be careful not to fall for you, too." He continued chuckling softly, inwardly wondering if she was, maybe, open to that other potential scenario.

"You know..." she groaned aloud, giving him no room for second thoughts. "...if he wasn't so damned stubborn and smug, I..."

He raised his hand, cutting off her musings. "You're a lot alike, as I remember." Without giving him an inch, she wrinkled her nose. "I am not. Ever. Just note that."

Zweller nodded with a polite smile, mentally rolling his eyes at her expense.

=/\=

Lying wide awake that night, Beverly stared at the ceiling of her bedroom, wondering if she'd made the right decision in teaming up with the Zweller guy. So far, their situation had only got-ten worse. She couldn't help but wonder why Jean-Luc didn't act on his damned feelings for the hundredth time. While being this strong-willed, proud and handsome man she had loved for so long, therefor she couldn't interpret his sheer inactivity when she obviously sought warmth and love elsewhere. Again. Would he never be able to show her openly and honestly how he really felt? How long would he continue to hide behind his ever so unnerving facade of indifference? Over the years, she had caught glimpses of his true nature, his loving and tender heart, his fine mind and spirit. But it was too rare and disappeared too quickly under the guise of his sense of duty and other one thousand excuses.

"Damn that man." Beverly cursed and turned to lie on her side, pressing a large pillow to her face as hot tears threatened to well up. There must be some place left for me somewhere deep inside you.

She knew the feelings existed and they had to be strong, but that was exactly what made it all the more painful. The sudden panic that gripped her entire being when she heard him offer himself to her after returning from the Prytt. And every nerve end begging her to let him in. The fear was overwhelming, robbing her of every clear thought, clouding her mind and shutting him out. If only he'd pushed a little harder... But now it seemed, she wasn't worth the extended effort.

Her walls had almost crumbled, the rapidly growing cracks spreading with such force that all he had to do was take the final step, no matter what stupid excuse her fear chose. But he didn't. He politely stepped back and respected her lousy wishes. To hell with that. To hell with Jean-Luc and his perfect attitude and his bloody decency. Clutching the pillow closer to her strained face, her unstoppable tears began to soak the soft fabric. Perhaps she had wished for things to come true that were never meant to be. It simply took more than hidden love to overcome the hurdles and walls they'd built for themselves. To throw this sacred, perhaps overrated friendship overboard. It wasn't worth a penny as long as they both continued to live in this toxic bond.

Her beloved stars flew by above her head, and soon she was lulled into a restless, tearful sleep.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER III

"Doctor," Picard gave her a brief, unemotional nod, avoiding her worn-out, tired eyes, before stepping onto the transporter pad alone.

She had never felt more uncomfortable being in the same room with him. Zweller, also wearing his white, form-fitting gala uniform, just like the Captain and herself, followed him silently. She swallowed a lump in her dry throat and finally joined them, staring intently at the floor.

The two guards flanking the three of them on the platform were already waiting.

"Energize."

***

Mercur IV proved to be hot, humid and almost unbreathable. Fighting the urge to cough, Picard tried to pretend that he was at ease and enjoying the wonderful evening. But reality was, the Minister next to him was only prolonging and increasing his suffering. With beads of sweat forming on his forehead, he tried to follow the stories the man was providing. Desperately, he fiddled with his collar, which was still far too tight. Even though many of these huge doors were wide open, the air around him was thick. The mass of people moving through the hall created an echo-like sound, bouncing from wall to wall. He grabbed a purple drink from a bypassing waiter and tried to stay focused. A few feet away, some very inviting heavy plush sofas were calling out for him to come over and lie down.

"It's a curiosity, isn't it..." the older man said suddenly, his eyes growing distant. "I have never seen real human red hair before. Especially not two at the same time. It's quite rare, even among your people, isn't it?"

Picard followed his gaze, fully aware that he was referring to his comrades. Noticing that his annoyance was instantly returning, he swallowed hard. "Yes, I guess so. Genetically, red hair originated in a Terran region called Ireland. There are many interesting legends and superstitions about this nowadays rare phenomenon." Silencing a further indecent remark, Picard thought for a moment before continuing. "But for professional, factual information, you should ask my... ehhhh... our doctor over there." His scrutinizing gaze fell on the couple dancing beautifully in the middle of the hall, among others, merely enjoying the evening. Gosh, why wasn't he able to do that? Enjoy the time. Savor the atmosphere. Relish in the moment. Appreciate her company. Maybe he would. If that damn cretîn wouldn't hold her the way he always wanted to. Just not in public, maybe.

Suddenly he felt the watchful eyes of the older minister on him.

"Are you all right, Captain? Perhaps you would like to try your luck at dancing as well? I think your colleagues over there are enjoying themselves. There's no need for you to waste your precious time here with me and these ancient stories. Please feel free to go and have fun. I know you guys up there don't have too many parties while you're sailing around in dark and infinite space.”

Picard was almost sorry that he had judged the Minister of Economics named Faulkner too prematurely. Grimacing slightly, he nodded, guilt evident in his eyes. "You're right, I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'm a little distracted today."

His counterpart smiled broadly for the first time that evening, showing his large white teeth, his big head bobbing curiously. "I'm sure it has nothing to do with your pretty doctor, right?"

He put his broad, six-fingered hands in his pockets and whistled cheerfully, enjoying Picard's obvious anxiety. "Yes, I can tell. Because she's observing you too."

Picard was surprised, yet unsurprised. He swallowed down every rash comment and turned. He definitely was amazed the Mercurian had seen something he didn't even recognize, despite being paralyzed while following her elegant movements. There was more to him than met the eye.

The slightly smaller but rather chubbier man grabbed Picard's arm and laughed heartily at his weird behavior. "Don't take anything for granted, Captain. That is my advice and that's all I'm saying.” Faulkner patted his shoulder, turned, and left him standing alone in the midst of the crowds.

It wasn't that evident, was it? He pinched the bridge of his nose and averted his eyes, hiding his wavering emotions under the façade of authority and professionalism. He placed his empty drink on a small table nearby and went through one of the massive but artfully carved wooden doors, giving way to the huge, impressive gardens on the outside of the palace. He crossed the white marbled floor of the gigantic patio, surrounded by old-fashioned oil lamps that flickered marvelously, and descended the stairs directly to the massive pools embedded between mighty palm-like trees and romantic pergolas. The two moons stood high above the clear night air, which wasn’t any cooler but not as sticky as inside the hall. The music swayed softly with him, following his burdened path. Taking a deep breath, Picard closed his eyes and took in the atmosphere. Fragrances similar to licorice and cumin penetrated his nose, transporting him back to ancient Arabic sites of long extinct civilizations on Earth.

And suddenly it all came back to him, in all its agony. He did love her. For God's sake. Really, completely, with all his being. There was no other way to describe it. He inhaled again and felt panic rise in his chest, almost choking him. Take nothing for granted. In all these years, he'd never felt so helpless in the face of his own feelings. Oh, sure, he had. Traveling back in time, he remembered all the times he had watched Beverly with Jack. The jealousy that gripped him at every intimate moment they shared when he was around. Every look, every damn touch, every bloody kiss tore at his infatuated heart.

Then the experience of Beverly becoming pregnant and Jack's son growing in her womb. The absolute irresistible pride of his friend shining brighter than any star he had ever seen. And the realization that he would never have that. Have her. Even the deep, unending grief over her husband's death made him jealous beyond belief. He didn't trust himself anymore. The fact that she had joined him on the Enterprise a few years later, when he thought everything had finally been settled for good, only to suddenly realize, thanks to this nasty intoxication, that his love hadn't disappeared at all. If anything, it had grown into a vast and endless black hole that brutally sucked him in. He exhaled softly into the balmy summer night air, shifting his weight with a long, heartily sigh. His eyes lingered on the twinkling lights below the surface of the azure water, transforming the pools into glimmering blue rectangles. Startled by her voice, his head shot up, ripping him from his thoughts. Watching her form from the distance, emerging from the doors of the veranda, he immediately slowed his breathing again. Her beautiful laughter filled the air as he watched her whirl around and finally stop with her back to the marble railing. His pulse sped up. She was absolutely breathtaking, even from this distance. Her illustrious hair fell softly around her shoulders, almost glowing in the silvery moonlight and the flickering oil lamps beside her captivating silhouette. Obviously, she was talking to someone while she loosened the uncomfortable collar of her uniform. Instinctively, he took a step back into the shadows, silently observing the scene. His pulse was racing in his ears by now. Then he saw him. Holding two glasses of clear liquid, he walked slowly towards her form, a enormous grin on his freckled, handsome face.

They were still talking, but Picard was too far away to make out a single word. Hearing her giggle made him nauseous. Corey stepped closer, placed the champagne flutes beside her on the railing, and turned, their faces only inches apart. Picard gasped and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them carefully, wishing they had simply disappeared or been swallowed by the floor, he found that Corey had encircled her waist, his other hand tenderly touching her face. His artificial heart missed a beat. Fighting the urge to run, he frantically grabbed the wooden lounger beside him, his knuckles already turning white. How could she even dare. With all these well-kept, but prominent feelings he had found in her mind thanks to the Prytt devices.

The pain he felt, transformed into rage in seconds and was soon held back only by sheer will. Picard was terrified.

"Oh woman, you're killing me. My feet hurt like hell..." His face was priceless.

Torn between pity and sympathy for the man who had caved in to dance with her all night, Beverly smiled back gratefully. "Don't complain. It's not my fault you're stuck in a chair all day. You better try some more physical exercises."

As he stepped closer, his face turned into a subtle grin. Setting the glasses down beside her, he studied her features intently. "Depends on the workout..." he hummed, his lips already twitching. The more he got to know her, the more he understood Johnny's crush on her. She was in-deed stunning. Looking into her sapphire, glittering orbs, he thought about losing himself in them. Bravely wrapping his arms around her, he touched the railing on either side. Corey’s grin suddenly faded and he grew serious. "You really are amazing, Dr. Beverly Crusher."

As they closed the remaining distance, their noses almost touched, but at the same time he felt her stiffen visibly. Panic rising, Beverly squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm sorry, but I don't know if I can do this..."

His body simply refused to back down while his heart pounded mercilessly in his chest. His plan wasn't working out the way he wished it would. Everything he'd thought of was now complicated by her nature. He had not factored in the possibility of naively falling for her. Closing the gap, he began gently caressing her warm, tender cheek.

Unintentionally, he glanced over her shoulder and saw a tiny movement in the shadows, just below the pools. Boy, this is going to be a mess. Fighting the urge to run, he searched for his dwindling courage, intoxicated by her scent and the awesome closeness, and whispered in her ear. "We're being watched."

Beverly took a sharp breath. Zweller saw that she was shivering and then her beautiful eyes watered. Despite realizing that he was supposed to be a gentleman and give her the comfort she needed, his body shook with the profound desire to take her right here on the patio. Zweller smiled awkwardly, pondering a reasonable decision. Gently brushing his trembling thumb across her soft, inviting lips, he finally requested attention while his gaze extensively framed her elegant features. Sensing his intentions, Beverly, almost on autopilot, slowly and almost imperceptibly nodded, telling him to go on, for God's sake. She knew there was no way out. Maybe she just told herself that there wasn't. And maybe staying to the plan was the only way to get him out of this damned, self-imposed captain's shell. Cortin Zweller definitely wasn't the man she needed, not now, not tomorrow, not ever. But his idea to provoke his friend's jealousy had sounded convincing at first. They were playing with fire, had been from the beginning. His pale blue eyes bored deeply into hers, and she knew that they lacked all the intense power that Jean-Luc's warm gray eyes had over her. This so-called master plan of his was absurd. She would not only lose her friendship, but also his love. Picard wasn't a man who could be backed into a corner and forced to open up.

When Corey's lips finally conquered hers, it took all of her self-control not to draw away to throw up. He was gentle, after all. Not intrusive, but determined. He cradled her hips and gently pulled her into his embrace. When she closed her eyes again, she couldn't even imagine being somewhere else or with someone else, just like she failed miserably to stop herself from hyperventilating inside.

Beverly placed her hands flat on his chest, gathered her thoughts and nerves, and finally was controlled enough to allow it to happen. Sensing her resistance ebbing and her lips responding to his, Corey pressed her body gently against the railing.

Something not far away crashed to the floor with a loud bang. Almost simultaneously, an object splashed into the pool. Ripped from her thoughts, Beverly shoved Corey roughly away, almost knocking him backwards, and muttered a very ordinary and blunt "oh fuck".

He recovered quickly, caught completely off guard. "Gosh Beverly, will you please calm down." Quickly closing the gap between them, he took her hand and searched her face. "That's what this is all about. And it... works perfectly?" Trying not only to soothe her, he cradled her face again, searching the depths of her eyes for some understanding.

What he didn't tell her was, that it hurt to be rejected over his friend, not for the first time in his life. He had imagined it would be easier to come down here and seduce her, as he had planned to do since he had met her in person for the first time. Perhaps he hadn't considered exactly that, when he had made his way to the Enterprise a few days ago. His plan had been complete, helping his friend to finally achieve his aim and at the same time helping himself to rise in rank. Now he was facing his friend's long-hidden love, and his heart was racing like a schoolboy experiencing his first serious crush. "'Trust me, I've known him longer than you dare to admit. We've been friends before you were even born."

With a roll of her eyes, she had to stifle a weird laugh. "Don't exaggerate for once, Corey. A lot of time has gone by since then. He has changed in so many ways since you two were friends at the Academy. Sometimes I fear that I am the only one who really knows how he feels. But then I'm sure I'm the only one who doesn't as well.” Sighing deeply in frustration, Beverly shook her head and forced a smile. "I'm sorry. This has been a wonderful evening, and I should thank you for it."

Before he had a chance to reply, her communicator chirped. “Enterprise to Dr. Crusher, Dr. Selar here.”

"Crusher here, go ahead Doctor." Turning away a little to get some privacy, Beverly grabbed her glass of champagne and glanced discreetly toward the gardens and pools where she couldn't detect any more movement.

"Dr. Crusher, we have now completed the preparations. We should be able to send all medical supplies you instructed by 0800 tomorrow morning. We have received the coordinates of where to send them from Governor Kruškov's office. Would you please keep an eye on the distribution while they're being delivered.”

"Acknowledged. Send the information to my assigned quarters in Block D. I'll be there in a few minutes. Crusher out." Turning, she flashed him an apologetic smile. "Well, you heard her. I will retire to my quarters now. See you tomorrow at the medical site?"

Zweller shoved his hands into his pockets, the grin returning to his rugged features. "So, I'll just keep an eye on you and support your work. After all, that's what I was sent here for, right?"

"Yes, thank you." She echoed and kissed him softly but briefly. Mimicking his grin and shrugging her shoulders, she left and headed straight for her assigned quarters.

=/\=

The water shower was a revelation. After hours in that sticky, humid air, it felt great to get out of uniform and cool down with simple, but refreshing, cold water. Her still damp hair cascading over her bare shoulders, a towel wrapped around her moist body, Beverly tapped barefoot through her guest room. It was plainly furnished and relatively small, a French-size bed being the main actor in the purist ensemble, a comfortable leather wing chair in the corner, a large mirror on the opposite side. Huge, massive floor-to-ceiling windows gave access to the large balcony, framed by the same palm trees that outlined the pools. The bathroom was in a small alcove at the end of the carpeted room.

"Computer, display the information the government sent through. Complete with Dr. Selar's records." She said, talking to her PADD that was lying on the bed while she tried to dry her hair with a second towel upside down. "Information assembled and displayed, Doctor."

She looked up, her eyes scrolling through the facts, and just as suddenly her heart stopped. Damn it.

"Open channel to Room 4, Block D." She swiftly instructed the local intercom.

Holding her breath in awe, Beverly listened to the silence as his raspy reply finally came through.

"I thought you would call soon. Isn't it possible that you're already feeling lonely?" Apparently, he was standing on his own balcony, the sounds in the background belonging to the party still going on in the palace not far away.

"Corey, we should talk - it's urgent. Maybe you want to come over instantly. There are some disturbing things to discuss." Bemused, she thought about it, looking down at herself. "Make it ten minutes, I want to change first." When she heard him laugh, she pulled a face. "Don't imagine things, it's strictly professional."

Zweller was still struggling with his voice. "Sure. See you in ten." And quickly chose to close the in his opinion decidedly ambiguous transmission.

~~~

Tearing her eyes away from the display of her PADD, still mentally sorting through the facts presented, she frowned. This wasn't a rescue mission for suffering people, this was blackmailing Starfleet and its ethics. Maybe Corey could shed some light on this, after all he was sent to investigate and support the mission. But somehow she couldn't shake the thought that he al-ready knew what this was all about.

Suddenly Beverly was startled out of her musings when there was a muffled knock on the door.

Never in life this had been ten minutes she growled, watching the door intently. Ignoring the fact of wearing nothing more than a white somewhat fluffy bathing towel, only covering the main parts of her anatomy she hurried towards the entrance of her room. The second knock was already stronger, even more impatient.

Rolling her eyes she grabbed the coppery door-handle, opening up. “Boy, I told you I want to change first.” Beverly sighed and froze in place - the blink of an eye later, she realized just who was standing right in front of her inadequately dressed appearance. "Jean-Luc?"

Head bowed, he struggled for air and even more… for courage. Staring at her bare feet and perfectly painted red toenails, his gaze slowly moved up, framing her never-ending, perfectly shaped dancer's legs. Maybe he'd forgotten that it was anything but appropriate to stare at your best friend the way he was doing now. Especially for a Captain who was ogling his CMO. But there was nothing he could do about it.

The awkward pause which followed was broken by Beverly clearing her throat, trying to shake him out of his silent reverie and honestly surprised to see him blush so deeply that even his ears turned bright red. "Can I... help you with something?" She asked inhibited.

A distinct wave of anticipation had gripped her heart, so she squeezed the door handle harder to release the rapidly building friction. She definitely hadn't expected him to show up at all, especially not looking as he did now. Frustrated, shaken and stunningly handsome at the same time. Picard was still in uniform, everything neat and tidy, but his face was deadly serious and fixed on something above the floor. The muscles of his jaw were working hard, while his body language told her he was deeply stressed.

So just like her, ran alarmingly loud through her dizzy mind. Opting for a quick, but light conversation, Beverly continued, trying to hide her own insecurities. "I'm sorry I left without saying good night earlier, Captain. Perhaps I was carried away by the wonderful evening and the great opportunity to dance all night." That brought him out of his reverie. Barely audible, but impressively frightening, he lifted his head and growled. "Oh, I bet you were."

She could see the hurt and anger clearly flash in his eyes like an approaching tornado. Anyone else would have retreated immediately, except for Beverly Crusher. Her temper was challenged in a way she hadn't thought possible. "Excuse me?" The doctor opened the door a little more, tilting her head provocatively. "You said?" Two could play a game, she pondered, her God-given ire rapidly shifting from excitement to terrifying annoyance, her fire flaring along. How could he dare to question her actions when all he ever did was being political correct, unnervingly polite and watching her respectfully from afar.

Clenching his hands into fists, Picard swallowed the overwhelming numbness, her attitude brought, down and took a bold, maybe slightly reckless step forward. "I suppose…” he hissed “…you've been too busy entertaining our good Commander, haven't you?" His voice dropped another ten degrees. Reflexively, his hand shot up and reached for the still tightening collar that seemed to be completely strangling him, absentmindedly jerking at the stubborn fabric to ease his labored breathing, not even realizing that it wasn't the collar that was forcing him to hyperventilate.

His hectic movement set her mind and tongue in motion, and despite the already humming air conditioner, new heat coursed through her entire body, forming small beads of sweat on her forehead. This wasn't the way they had expected him to act. His eyes told her in every facet that he was really, really pissed off. He would probably never forgive her for this stupid charade. Touching the door frame to catch herself, she blinked, deciding that a blunt attack would be her best defense. "'Jeeez, Jean-Luc. Who do you think you are?" With a shaky hand she brushed a damp tress from her face, fighting against her rebellious heart and lowered her voice with the same intensity she felt - accompanied by a deep, sudden sadness. She was struck by the strange realization that not only he was incapable of offensively acting on the things he had claimed to want to push further, but he also refused to allow or grant her anything else at all. Massive hurt clenched at her core this could be the only truth, this could be the cause they had never made it past their fears and hurdles.

Beverly gathered her strength as bare anger once again took over. Obviously, he wasn’t compelled to speak, so she did for him. "Apparently, except your so-called friend, there's no one who's seriously interested in me. And taking a risk on a whim is not the same, Jean-Luc. I may point out, I already did ask you for a dance and… other things. Always hoping that you'll finally understand… or take action."

She felt herself blush as she suddenly remembered not only the weird, intoxicated episode in his office a few years ago. "...far too often in our life I have been judged, criticized, simply over-looked or been bluntly rejected. I'm human as well, Jean …” Crusher exhaled angrily. “It's… bloody fine if you're just not so thoroughly attracted to me as I am to you, but…." She felt a persistent tear gather in the corner of her eye and quickly blinked it away, loathing the overwhelming pain that shrouded her like a shadow. "Just do me the favor, stop sulking about your stupid, hurt pride and safe yourself the effort taking consideration of our friendship or of my humble self… once and for all, leave me alone if you want to snoop around in things that are absolutely none of your business, captain. I'm really tired of..." His eyes, the whole time transfixed on her rapidly working, terribly distracting mouth and tongue, raged up. Along with his hand, brutally tearing his damn collar open to free his fury. And without further ado, Picard leapt forward. Forcing the door fully open, he stormed into the room, grabbed her shoulders roughly, and pushed her startled form against the wooden bath-room door with a dull thud. "What on earth makes you think that I'm not attracted, goddamn it?" He spat through gritted teeth, closing the gap between their faces, fury surging through him like a thunderbolt, electrifying his veins and limbs, whipping his wrath forward. "Dare..." Beverly warned breathlessly, her throat tightening as her eyes returned his fire with the same intensity.

He had long since crossed the invisible line of reason, obeying his overwhelming longing and unbearable boiling heat, shutting out his long nurtured scruples for the first time since he’d first met her so many years ago. The fury and powerlessness that had accompanied him for so long made its way inexorably. It was choking him and pushing him further forward with a crude violence that made his mind spin. And it weren’t his cheeks only that burned with raging desire when he observed the single waterdrop make its way down her brow, take the route down the elegant line of her nose and finally stopped at the gentle curve of her lip. The insane rate of his heartbeat spread to an unbearable level.

He watched in awe as Beverly's eyes suddenly turned from shock to insatiable hunger and ruthlessly clouded with a dark desire he thought impossible. She began to chew on this intriguing lip, her intense, mind-numbing gaze flickering over and settling on his own trembling mouth.

Something inside him broke with a shattering roar, solid walls crumbling in nanoseconds, liberating the monster that had been locked inside his soul for so long. Rigorously blocking out his rational mind, he braced his palms flat against the door to cage her obstinate head and any possible objections. Newly foaming courage seized his limbs and thrust his fevered body roughly against hers, eager to capture his ultimate desire. And then Picard kissed her - as hard as his valor would lead him. With an intensity that ignited his deepest fear and his long hidden carnal hunger in a final, desperate attempt to absorb her entire being in his fierce approach. Caught completely off guard, Beverly felt his brisk hands move just as suddenly to her waist, pinning her back even harder against the door. Her stubborn resistance, if she ever had any, faded along with her outrage. This... definitely... wasn't the man she'd known for twenty years and more, and yet... no, precisely because of that, she was completely lost in the strange, frenzied moment that engulfed her heart, her body and millions of fibers like a gathering storm.

Losing herself in his magnificent scent, Beverly closed her eyes, her pulse pounding high in her ears and her knees almost buckling. With a contented moan, accompanied by a guttural growl, her trembling fingertips traced his prominent jawline and opened her mouth to his exploring, rude tongue as all the pent-up tension drained from her body like a summer rain.

Picard, still engulfed in instinctive attack mode, grabbed her hipbone roughly, pulling her even closer to his trembling body and trapping her between the door and himself. As his clouded mind surrendered to the realization that no proximity to her would ever be enough, seeming to suffocate under the pressure of his sheer hunger for Beverly, he first sucked and then bit violently down on her lower lip. And despite his trancelike state he felt her shake vehemently un-der his ministrations. Without further ado he hurriedly shoved the disturbing fabric out of his way and searched for the exquisite flesh of her buttocks, just to wrap his fevered fingers around them. The desire for her was overpowering and tearing at his heartbeat, roaring through his boiling veins with a force unforeseen. Rubbing his growing need helplessly, feverishly against her throbbing hot core, he felt like he was fainting, blackness and stars dancing alternately before his eyes. Unexpectedly, a gurgling sigh escaped Beverly's swollen lips. She hurriedly placed both hands on his chest, trying to push him away as she struggled to catch her breath, gasping desperately for air.

The abrupt change in circumstances caused him to feel a profound sense of disorientation, sheer panic instantly rushing through his chest as blank reality hit. It crawled like tiny icy stabs into his heart, tearing him down to the sudden realization of what he had just done, and certainly wouldn't have stopped if she hadn't pushed him away. A nasty cold sweat accompanied his comprehension and soon ran down his neck and spine. "Oh my God, I..." he croaked in terror, not daring to move - pure shock rushing terrifyingly through his freezing blood. He felt his body tremble with fear as his shaking thumb moved clumsily across her injured lip, trying to remove the slow but sickening trickle of blood. He had finally messed it up. The horror in his soul grew as Picard began to understand that their friendship was finally, irrevocably over. And he alone had caused it by his disrespectful, ever-present, instinctive hunger for her.

He swallowed the strangling terror like a bad habit. How could he lose all the control he had built up over the years? Inhaling her wonderful scent, a fine blend of vanilla and roses, he swallowed harder this time, his throat becoming painfully dry. He watched, mesmerized, as her chest rose and fell with heavy breathing, and lastly dared to look up, drowning in shock and her still cloudy blue orbs of unwavering and honest desire.

"Will you please stop apologizing..." Beverly touched his panic-stricken face with a sudden but invasive smile, quickly closed the small gap between them again, to plant the most beautiful, devoted, and tender kiss he could ever have imagined on his trembling lips. Just then, not only time stood still, but so did his raging mind and his scorching body.

Hoping for his full attention, Beverly searched his gaze and carefully wrapped both arms around his neck, pressing her pelvis invitingly against his pulsing hardness. His eyebrows shot up in amazement, still not believing his fate, but instinctively reaching under her long, slender right leg and pulling it up around his hip.

"Bed." She commanded surprisingly composed, a dirty smirk tugging at her supple lips. The horror and shock completely forgotten, Picard lifted her up in one smooth motion and swiftly did as he was told. This time he certainly wouldn't wait for her to change her mind.

***

"You called, fair lady, here I am. Your knight in shining armor." With a bottle of wine and two glasses in hand, Cortin Zweller stepped into the room, wondering why she'd chosen to leave the doors open. Sometimes in life there is just that one moment when you want to be swallowed by the ground. With his mouth and shirt equally open, he froze.

"You're kidding, aren't you?" he cursed, surprised by his own flourishing but definitely unwanted emotions, staring at the plush French bed in the dim light, his lifelong friend hovering over the woman he had just dared to admit he was falling for, his face buried deep in the hollow of her neck, his hands spread wide over the sweeping curves of her delicious, uncovered breasts.

Picard threw his head back and sat back up on his heels, snarling in annoyance. "Bon sang, vraiment?" Damn. Really?

Fighting the urge to strike and hide, the captain roughly pulled Beverly into a sitting position and hurriedly wrapped the now completely tattered towel around her exposed body again. Zweller didn't move, but continued to gawk at the two highly decorated, legendary Starfleet officers who had obviously been caught making out and were now trapped in this peculiar position right in front of him.

"Woaaah... I really arrived at an unfortunate time, didn't I?" His face slowly turned into a slightly creepy frown. Acting quickly, Beverly gathered her wits and elegantly pulled herself out from under the stunned Captain. Trying to hide her own embarrassment and lack of clothing, she hurriedly got up from the bed and strolled in Zweller's direction, absentmindedly tugging at her towel.

All she could do at the moment was make light of the awkward situation and leap forward. "You..." she pointed a finger at his chest, then turned to Picard, "and you." She gave them both a look that brooked no argument, trying to play it cool. "...stay here. I'll be right back, we all need to talk." Leaving them like schoolboys, Beverly disappeared into the bathroom as quickly as she could, leaving a soft "Behave, kids." behind.

Immeasurably out of breath, Picard sat fully back to gain time, his legs dangling inelegantly over the edge of the bed, his hand slowly sliding over his pate to calm his pumping blood. He'd never been so painfully hard, ever. Not even at night, when he just fantasized about... The un-mistakable throbbing numbed his brain. Shaking his head in desperation, he caught Zweller's questioning, lecherous gaze. Hectically, Picard grabbed a large pillow and placed it demonstratively on his lap while his head turned bright red.

"Enjoying yourself?" the Commander whispered with a twisted grin, still baffled by Beverly's commanding tone and the ridiculous behavior and obvious condition of his male friend. Curiosity got the better of him when he saw Picard squirming uncomfortably but unable to escape either. "For God's sake, relax, old man, it's not the first time I've caught you making out with a girl."

Picard's eyes widened in disbelief and he stared at his colleague in horror. "Making out with a girl?" He asked, his voice rising immediately. "Is that still your attitude? Isn't that the reason your wife left you more times than you can remember, because of your particular ambition to get your hands on every damn skirt available?"

"Ouch... that really hurt." Cortin snarled sourly while his eyes spit fire. "Especially from a man who can't conquer the one woman he's been madly in love with for over twenty years because he isn’t capable of going and tell her."

"You know damn well it's not..."

Stopping Picard with a raised hand, Zweller shook his head. "Come on, I'm tired of your rants. It didn't matter to you as long as your Holy Grail didn't attract the attention of anyone else." Ex-haling loudly, Cortin stepped deeper into the room, placed the empty glasses on the small table nearby and poured some wine into both. After handing one to an astonished Picard, he scanned the Captain with questioning eyes.

"For years you have dumped your fate on me, Johnny. Now here I am, showing the slightest interest and you just what... suddenly decide to simply jump at her bones?" He turned and shoved a hand into the pockets of his loose linen pants. A dry laugh escaping his lips, the realization slowly dawned that he was more personally offended than he dared admit. “Really, my dear Captain. I thought you’d be better than that.”

This speech also affected his counterpart. Taking a sip of the much too warm liquid, Picard swallowed each comment and lowered his head in defeat, praying that his state of arousal would disappear as soon as possible. Zweller was right, he had bothered him more than necessary with his emotional conflicts over the years. Sometimes, even late at night, when he couldn't sleep, he would toss and turn for hours, and even indulging in desperate workouts didn't help. The only thing he couldn't talk to Beverly about was Beverly herself. He'd thought that as a friend, as one of his oldest friends to be exact, Corey wouldn't mind hearing the story of his unfulfilled love over and over again. He cleared his throat and held the glass in his fingers, sup-pressing his anger at his betrayal and shame.

"There's something I have been meaning to tell you, as a matter of fact, both of you." Beverly suddenly broke the awkward silence that lingered painfully in the damp room. Emerging from the alcove, now dressed in a mossy oversized sweater that left her left shoulder bare and simple black leggings, she strolled over as if nothing had happened. She grabbed her PADD by gently pulling it out from under Picard’s butt. She granted him an apologetic, ever so tiny but still flushed smile. With both men staring at her in amazement, she dropped onto the bed next to Jean-Luc and opened the files she'd received an hour ago. Beverly had decided in advance to simply ignore the situation and get on with things more important than jealousy and rivalry. Avoiding their stunned looks, she began to fill them in, successfully hiding her still trembling hands. "My understanding is that the Mercurians suffer from a genetic disease caused by the acidic resources they mine. Apparently, Starfleet is pressuring them to provide and supply these resources in exchange for joining the Federation and ensuring the protection of their planet. I can't believe they're providing medical supplies instead of shutting down the mines, which will surely kill a lot more of them in the long run." Apparently, she was back to being as professional as possible.

"Doctor..." The other redhead muttered, taken aback.

"You already knew that, didn't you?" She growled and looked sharply at Zweller who shrugged simultaneously. "It's not as bad as it sounds, Bev. That's what we're here for."

Picard reached over and took the PADD from her hands, silently studying the facts. Several minutes of silence passed before he finally groaned, understanding the point at issue. "Rare elements? I thought the use of cerium was banned in the early 22nd century because of the rampant cases of cancer." Deeply concerned, he finally looked up, shifting his gaze between Zweller and his, probably now more than ever, beautiful friend and CMO. "Cerium is solemnly extracted in a long process with alkalis and acids, if I remember correctly. Is there still any use for these substances?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose and took the PADD back from him, nodding slowly. "There is. It's the cheapest way to make semiconductors for isolinear chips, Jean-Luc. I've seen them mining thulium too, I'd rather not think about the damage they've already done. The effects on humans are rather benign compared to the effects on Mercurian anatomy.

Picard touched her hand cautiously. "You say Starfleet is exploiting them? Right here, in front of us?"

Zweller chuckled slightly and stepped forward. "Now, now, Jean-Luc. Don't overreact. This is business. The Prime Directive forbids us to interfere with their original traditions. We just..." he tilted his head thoughtfully, "...use them." Peering uncomfortably at their still joined hands, he couldn't shake the feeling that his intention to force his friend into his final destiny hadn't included his own pride being so ridiculously hurt. Besides the fact that he had obviously underestimated the good doctor, he had allowed himself to be blinded by her appearance. To think that she could be easily distracted by emotional conflicts was, he knew now, completely stupid. Gulping down the rest of his wine, Picard shot up from the bed, finally able to move with dignity again. Justifying an ethical crime with an order or a law created to protect was definitely a subject he would have discussed with Beverly. But this time they were on the same side, he really hoped she knew that. "What exactly is your role in this, Corey?" Picard inquired, regaining his composure.

Setting his glass down next to the bottle, the Commander sighed. "Like I said, I'm here to help Dr. Crusher and the medical support on the planet. So anything goes..." he gazed up at his friend and smiled awkwardly, "Smooth as planned."

"I'm almost afraid he's right, in a way. After all..." Beverly flipped through her files and nodded, "...that's what they've been doing for centuries. Maybe Starfleet is just their private nail..."

"on the coffin?" Picard added, frowning in sorrow.

Running a hand through her slowly drying hair, Beverly cleared her throat. Maybe this was just the wrong time and place. After all the battles they'd fought, to realize now that everything they were capable of wasn't enough to help because of their own laws and principles. And the huge blind spot some facts created when Starfleet needed something. Sighing with some kind of frustration, Beverly finally shook her head. "Don't get me wrong, but we should call it a night. I should be ready and something like awake tomorrow morning when the Governor's most ambitious scientists and doctors arrive after breakfast. I'll try to dig deeper into this, may-be there's something we can do." She rose from her bed and took Picard's arm gently.

Looking longingly into her eyes, he bowed, his gaze fixed on her still split lip. He would like to help taking care of that. "You're right, he should to leave now." Gradually, she raised an elegant eyebrow at him, politely hiding a sneer. "And you too, you're both going somewhere else." Then she turned and pulled the captain toward the doors.

Corey couldn't help but grin broadly. "Gotcha." He said spitefully and followed Picard through the doors. If it had been possible, he would have carved his dumb face in stone. As the doors closed behind them, he turned and gave his friend an unrestrained laugh, unceremoniously holding his belly until he could take no more. "Come now, grumpy man. I've brought you some good old Aldebaran whiskey as well, a special brand no one should drink alone. So please do me the honor of accompanying me to my room."

Picard still stared at the closed door, unable to comprehend the situation he found himself in. Beverly hadn't just thrown him out after they had almost... Had she? When... She couldn't just... Could she? Hell, obviously she could.

He wouldn't sleep a wink all night. Again. But this time, and for the first time in his life, with real, powerful images rushing through his mind and body. God, how she tasted and smelled. Closing his eyes, he sighed deeply in frustration and finally growled.

When he felt Corey clumsily touch his shoulder, he became aware of him. Picard was still annoyed about his actions, and not only in relation to Starfleet matters. He had just robbed him of the wonderful first night with the love of his life. "God, just shut up, Cortin Zweller." With a grimace on his face, he let out a long, shuddering breath.

Understandingly, his counterpart nodded, but soon a silly, completely inappropriate grin crossed his blank features again. "Come on Johnny, the thing is over anyway. Now please just follow me..."

=/\=

"Alyssa, would it be possible for you to bring me the new samples?" Staring intently at the huge wall of displays, Beverly ran a hand through her hair. They had been working on the problem for five days now, practically without interruption except for a few hours of sleep and a little food. She knew she could get lost in time when investigating a medical mystery, but this time it was harder than ever. The Mercurians had tried for centuries to control these diseases by wearing protective clothing and masks and using some very questionable chemical substances to withstand the devastating effects - and they had failed miserably because they had never even considered eliminating the cause. Beverly could only speculate as to why they hadn't simply stopped mining the ore for their own sake. She wasn't the one to judge their actions, especially since Earth had gone through similar procedures hundreds of years ago. Knowing that some-thing is harmful doesn't usually lead to a quick stop and restrictions, as long as it's profitable. Grabbing her cup of chamomile tea, she leaned back in her chair and closed her already burning eyes for a minute. A headache formed between her temples, throbbing slowly in rhythmic pulses.

"Your samples, Doctor." Alyssa stood smiling next to her, watching her from above. Touching her hand gently, Beverly smiled back. "Thank you. I'd be lost without you."

"You're welcome." Integrating the samples into the scanner on the tabletop, Alyssa crossed her arms over her chest, waiting as much as Beverly for the results. "The Captain is busy going over the treaties with the Mercurians, I suppose?" She asked, looking at her superior, noticing the visible dark circles under her otherwise sparkling blue eyes.

"As well as Cmdr Riker and Counsellor Troi, who beamed down yesterday to speed things up. After all..." Beverly exhaled and shook her head. "To be honest, I don't know if it's right to support the treaties between Starfleet and Mercur IV while this is going on..." She pointed at the displays and rubbed her eyes wearily. "If Starfleet continues to demand rare elements from this planet, they'll never stop this deadly mining. And it's as simple as that, they should stop it immediately, if you ask me. Not just hope to find some miraculous cure for the effects and all problems will be solved. That is... absolutely irresponsible."

"Ah, Mother Teresa is still complaining." Suddenly Cmdr. Cortin Zweller entered the room, staring paralyzed at the displays, dressed in his red uniform, a steaming coffee in his right hand.

Startled, Beverly turned and raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "Just stating the facts, Commander.", she shot back.

"Crying to the moon is not your style, Beverly. Accept the rules, and rest assured, we didn't make them. You and I aren't here to change them. We will do our jobs, beside… other things we might enjoy. It’s… simple."

Alyssa grimaced slightly and decided to silently withdraw from the conversation she knew her boss would torpedo from every damn angle and with every right to do so. Beverly rose from her chair and set her cup down on the table.

"Right Commander, this unique attitude always achieved a lot in the history of mankind, acting without thinking and bluntly carrying out orders, no matter how crazy or unethical they are." Her voice was cold and dripping with painful sarcasm, her icy gaze boring right through him. Subconsciously, she still couldn't fathom what was going through his mind. Since their initial pact to try to get Jean-Luc to open up, Zweller had shown a completely different attitude upon discovering her nightly... very successful breakthrough. Beverly hadn't forgiven him for interrupting just that when she finally got a glimpse of the man she had hoped to discover beneath all that pride and reserved demeanor. Zweller had behaved like a bull in a china store on full purpose.

Added to that private matter, how could he be so narrow-minded? "Did it ever occur to you that millions of people died for freedom and equality, for the right to be an individual, to be healthy and to live in a peaceful environment?" Her temper had just begun to flare.

Stepping closer, he tilted his head, a dirty grin on his face. "Despite your somewhat hysterical manner, and despite the fact that you've wasted your other impressive talents on the wrong man, you're really exciting, and may I say... you're still a sight for my sore eyes, lady."

Humming to himself, he shook his head. Though he was surprised at his own boldness in challenging her disturbingly charming ire this way, he couldn't hide his desire to gain more. "I'm truly sorry we haven't met before. Your blazing fire is a welcome challenge to my natural and ever-present restraint. That and your other saucy habits and charms..." he stepped closer, his chest already pounding excitedly, "...really and I mean really turn me on."

Torn between strangling his stupid throat or pouring the hot coffee over areas that would hurt much longer, Beverly kept her sharp tongue in check. "I can't believe he calls you a friend." She hissed threateningly. "Nothing is sacred to you. Nothing but your own fate. Get out of this lab and stay out unless I call you, which won't happen anytime soon."

Feigning a look of hurt, he placed his hand flat on his heart. He would never in his life admit what her rejection had really done to him. "Forgive me, I'm only here to help. But like our wonderful captain already said, you're not as easy to handle, apparently in more ways than one." She could have just slapped his dumb grin off his face, but the rising irritation at Jean-Luc's so-called but at least only retold words was far worse. “He said… what?”

Zweller hadn't had a chance to add any more fuel to her already raging fire when an alarm went off and a light began flashing somewhere on the giant display showing a Mercurian cell membrane.

Startled, Beverly rushed back to her station as Alyssa reentered the room.

"Found something?" she offered, silently wishing the intruder would disappear as soon as they discovered the possibility of a solution.

Blinking, Crusher let her fingers rapidly dance over the new results, her face turning frantic. "Alyssa, come here. There is a section of a membrane that is recalibrating to these ore acids." She couldn't hide the excitement coursing through her veins, the recent anger instantly dissolving and receding deeper into the genetic pattern of the cells. "There, just look!" she exclaimed, "This is it; this is the vault!" They both didn't notice Zweller retreating from the room.

Beverly tapped her communicator, a smile on her lips. "Crusher to Picard. Can you spare me a moment?"

Chapter Text

CHAPTER IV

“I’m afraid she found something important.” Zweller said, scratching his increasingly stubbly jaw, while pulling a sore face. Trying to avoid direct eye contact to the woman on his opposite he began wiping imaginary dust in front of the screen on his temporary desk in his guest quarters. He could hear the other one snarl in disgust. “You told me everything is under your control, Corey. If Mercur gets some sort of a vaccine, Starfleet isn’t able to go on providing supplies in exchange anymore. The Mercurians could sell their ores to anybody who’s interested. That should never happen, I thought you did understand my point.”

Gazing up, directly into the piercing mushy green eyes of the Vice-Admiral, Zweller nodded. “I am. The idea of getting Picard into this story by distracting the good doctor and meanwhile torpedoing her work was well planned. Knowing him for this long period of time I was sure he would do anything regarding the circumstances, and she never cared for the Prime Directive…”

“Oh, you just shut up. This damn woman is never to be underestimated. Regardless if she cares about it or not. Her late position as Head of Starfleet Medical and being CMO of our flagship over years should be proof enough, shouldn’t it? This woman is more professional than you’ll ever be.” Her face told more than she dared to admit.

“The silly idea of bringing Picard into the game wasn’t that brilliant, Commander. This will only worsen our situation on this damn hot and dirty lost planet. If they’re both on it and maybe even fraternizing, you should prepare for bringing the big guns. I will order you again and for the last time to set things straight. Palliative treatments only. Acknowledged?” Clearing his suddenly dry throat Zweller nodded eagerly, deciding to withhold what had long since happened.

“Ma’am.” Closing the transmission the screen went black again. What would the Admiral say, if she learned about the very private fraternization going on, actually even blossoming right now due to the events and his actions down here. Torn back and forth between his duty, his beliefs and his emotional turmoil, he stared at the large windows, silently watching the sun going down.

=/\=

"Understood. This is good news, I suppose?" He laid his hands flat on the marbled rails of the patio and waited for Beverly to move on. As the bright sun slowly dipped below the horizon, he closed his eyes and took in the magnificent Mercurian sunset. There was silence on the other end of the communication until he heard her admirable sigh.

"Tell me," he offered gently and without pressure, sensing her uneasiness even though he was far away on the other side of the capital.

"Jean-Luc, contrary to usual, where I would fight with you to the end just to help the weaker ones, I don't know if we should do that here and now. They definitely need a vaccine, and frankly, we're on our way to produce one, but I'm not sure it's the medical support they need most. You know damn well how I feel about some of the things going on here..."

A sudden smile replaced his frown and Picard stifled a warm chuckle. "Beverly?" He asked cautiously.

"Jean-Luc?" Came her immediate but uneasy reply, waiting for his usual rejection.

He closed his eyes in silent prayer as the sun slipped behind the horizon and felt a new, different heat return to his face. "Have I told you lately that I adore you?"

An awkward silence followed, in which his heart almost stopped. Chewing hard on his lip, his body tensed. Why on earth did I say that? Blinking in shock, he dropped his head. He knew why. Because that was exactly what he was feeling and suddenly he thought he could tell her, made easier by the fact that he was not forced to withstand her distracting closeness. Perhaps he had ruined the budding seedling of their possible relationship by being so bold. Her obvious hesitation seemed to confirm his worst suspicions. You silly old fool, he cursed inwardly.

"No, actually you never said that before." Came the gentle reply some infinite moments later.

His breathing relaxed slightly when he heard her voice again. He could almost see her smile.

"Jean-Luc? Can you tell me again, in person I mean?" Fighting the impossible urge to run across town, he squeezed his eyes shut, his lips curling upward. "As many times as you want, I've waited long enough to be able to do this."

He noticed her giggle at his surprising revelation. "Good to know." She declared, grinning to herself. "But for now, we should focus on the subject at hand, my dear."

Blushing again at her calling him that, he kept a straight face, inefficiently covering his flustered state. Picard couldn't help feeling like a teenager in love, suddenly faced with reciprocated pas-sion. "I will rejoin the negotiations in five minutes, we just took a break. Will has returned to the ship, while Deanna is still here with me, helping between the parties. It turns out that a part of the government is interested in opening negotiations with the Romulans while we're still here. It will certainly change our course anyway.” He stated to distract his rising desire to blow it all to hell and drag this woman in his proverbial cave.

“Deanna?” Beverly followed up.

“Just went fetching some snacks for us.” Picard hummed, slightly amused about his own lack of concentration.

"Sounds fascinating." Beverly retorted, a laugh accompanying her remark. "Will you keep me posted? I need to get back to my research, but in the meantime I may be able to run a preliminary test on the serum I've created for the vaccine."

A few muffled sounds later, a third voice joined the conversation.

"It's time, the Council is assembling again. Hello, Beverly." Deanna Troi was obviously still chewing on something and could hardly speak. "Sorry Bev, hope to see you later." She mum-bled between the last remnants of the Mercurian version of a chocolate sundae, her eyes lingering longer than usual on her visibly cheerful Captain, her eyebrows already raised suspiciously.

"There's clearly more to talk about." She finally concluded with budding curiosity.

Picard quickly reached for his communicator. "Doctor, good luck. And... thank you." He desperately ended the transmission without waiting for Beverly's confirmation, so as not to raise any more assumptions. The good Counselor would find out soon enough.

Looking back at the small woman beside him, her smile glued to his face in anticipation, he felt his heart jump. This was neither the place nor the time for an intimate conversation with his ship's counselor. It was likely that she had come to the same conclusion as well, as she made her way back into the palace without another word.

Fighting on the same ethical side with his Chief Medical Officer this time felt reassuring. Arguing with her about the Prime Directive in the past, whenever the situation arose, was a remind-er that they were also different in many ways. He was usually able to understand her arguments very well, especially knowing her historical background, growing up between catastrophes and deaths. And being an excellent doctor and scientist simply had different priorities than being a starship captain responsible for diplomacy and following the rules. They had al-ways respected each other's point of view, even if Beverly didn't always do what he told her to. The memory of her stealing a shuttle and flying it into a damn sun just to prove her point was still fresh in his mind. She was, after all, incorrigible - in an infuriating, but endearing way.

"Sir?" Deanna threw him a skeptical look, her dark eyes questioning as she looked back at him. Startled, he cleared his throat and nodded softly. “I’m coming.”

Finally, he caught up with her and noticed that her eyes were still following him closely. Sens-ing her probing his mind, Picard raised his inner walls again, not yet ready to discuss any of his current thoughts with her. In fact, he would have preferred not to talk about it at all, not even in the future - but he also knew that it couldn't be avoided. Troi would probe him as long as she found out, everything. That was her nature. And thank God, she was not like her mother. A tiny smile crept across his face, just thinking about the day Lwaxana Troi would find out about him and Beverly. Picard tried to think straight, to put all ulterior motives aside. Still somewhat amused by the future scene, he pulled open the large wooden door, letting Deanna take the lead, but following close behind.

When he entered, the great hall was almost empty, except for the handful of members of the Mercurian Council. Picard breathed in the dry but thick air and scanned the crowd. They stood in the middle of the crowd, still discussing details. Only the Governor had retreated to a corner near the large entrance on the opposite side of the hall. It almost seemed as if he was hiding. Closing the distance a little more, Picard realized why. Exchanging meaningful glances with Troi, they stopped moving and observed the scene discreetly.

Right next to the Governor stood Zweller, his head bent toward the older man, his voice conspiratorially lowered, and both looked up when they realized who had entered the hall. Picard felt the older man seize him hesitantly up, his eyes glittering with something like impending betrayal.

Troi stepped closer to him immediately. "He is very anxious, almost terrified. I wonder what Commander Zweller told him, Captain." Picard touched her arm and nodded. "I'm afraid we're about to find out, Counselor."

Right on time, the group of men headed for the conference room, the Governor and Zweller following right behind. With a simple nod, they both finally joined the formal procession.

***

The next several hours were filled with heated arguments, with three members of the Council delivering passionate speeches about the possibility of negotiating some trade agreements with the Romulans as well. Six opposed, pinning their hopes on Starfleet's medical support and dreaming of a day when mining would no longer be dangerous. Picard felt his temples throbbing intensely, his thumbs already massaging them while he still looked attentive. The truth was, they didn't seem to be able to move an inch forward, spinning in circles over and over again. Five members didn't want to join a treaty at all and just tried to carry on as before.

Governor Kruškov stood up, slowly losing his patience. "Captain Picard, can you promise that we will receive medical care no matter what our decision will be?" His pleading eyes bored into him, demanding an honest answer.

That hit home. They'd never discussed the possibility of supporting the colony even though they'd sold their goods to another party. Starfleet would not expect this offer. There was no benefit in such a contract, only a hard commitment, knowing that the Romulans would take advantage of it. Exhaling sharply, Picard also stood up. "Governor, I beg your pardon, as I have said many times, Starfleet offers medical assistance, no more, no less. We're here to support you in any way we can. If you choose to turn your back on our efforts, you're free to do as you wish." His mouth went dry, knowing full well that it must have sounded very harsh and in some way insulting, even to himself.

Starfleet obviously needed the ore. It would be painful to lose the opportunity to treat the rare elements. Beverly was right. If everything went wrong, they would solve the Mercurian problem without really helping the people. Just by giving them the vaccine, only others would benefit and the Mercurians would continue mining as if nothing had happened. Picard felt his confidence slip away. Kruškov nodded, a sour smile forming on his lips. "Why do I get the feeling that you're not being completely honest with the Council? Surely you're not hiding something like conspiring with the medical team you brought with you, just in case we decide to accept the Romulan offer?"

Picard's eyes popped open in wonder. Where did this come from? Troi threw him a puzzled look and shrugged her slender shoulders. "Con... spi... ring with my... medical..." Picard muttered questioningly, his gaze glued to the Governor while all eyes were on him. He felt himself involuntarily blushing.

He watched as Zweller lowered his head, avoiding his gaze. The realization dawned on him slowly and painfully. Gathering his strength, Picard crossed his arms over his chest. "Governor Kruškov, with all due respect, our medical team is highly professional and you have Starfleet's finest at your service. They'll do everything in their power to develop the proper vaccines to help your people."

Kruškov grabbed a data pad in front of him and began rattling his fingernails over it. "I bet they are. Especially your Chief Medical Officer is quite... capable."

Malicious laughter spread around the table, raising the small hairs on the back of his neck in discomfiture. The older man didn't move, his serious gaze studying the human Captain closely.

"Sirs, perhaps we should call it a day and finish for today." Troi quickly intervened, sensing Pi-card's growing anger at being humiliated in front of the Council, and worse - at the attack on Beverly's professional ethics. She still wondered what, if anything, had happened between them and why she hadn't recognized it.

Kruškov slammed the PADD down on the table, his face hard. "Obviously, the captain's noble impartiality is limited when it comes to the intentions of his highly praised doctor. Perhaps we should request a new negotiator who is not compromised." His voice was cool, but he still gave the impression that he didn't like what he was saying.

Picard swallowed hard, fighting his anger. Yes, perhaps he was compromised by his feelings for the doctor, but he trusted her ethics and mind in every way. More than his own. She was a rock in his surf, the base of his faith, and he would never doubt any of her intentions. If anything, he might sometimes doubt her way of getting things done. Her deepest fire burned for the help-less, the sick, and the disadvantaged. Raising his head, his jaw working hard, he pulled his uniform tunic straight. "Governor, if you doubt my Chief Medical Officer or me, you doubt the very foundation of Starfleet. You won't find anyone with more integrity and passion than Dr. Crush-er and her team."

The bald man sitting just to the left of Governor, Faulkner, whom he'd met on their first night here, leaned back in his chair and muttered an amused "Maybe even a little too much passion, Captain.”

Kruškov flashed him a warning look and shook his head in despair. "We don't want to get carried away, do we? If Picard stands behind his medical team, we'll trust him until proven other-wise. We will take a break and reconvene tomorrow. The conference is adjourned, I wish you a pleasant evening."

Picard tried to collect his thoughts as the men slowly filed out of the room.

Deanna Troi remained at his side, watching him intently. "Sir, please relax. Maybe they're just trying to find your Achilles' heel, to lure you out of your security and reserve. They are using your apparent friendship with Beverly for their own purpose, to question you as a person and as the legendary and untouchable, flawless Starfleet Captain."

With a slight grimace, Picard turned. "That's a small comfort, Counselor. They should be concentrating on their own, definitely more pressing issues, not our private..." he groaned "matters".

Troi nodded and responded only with a gentle smile, touching his shoulder and directing him toward the exit. "Sometimes it's easier to deal with others than to solve your own problems. Maybe this even sounds familiar to you."

He raised an eyebrow at her and saw her eyes sparkle with mischief. "Counselor..." Picard began, but Troi shook her head and hummed. "I am happy for you both, Captain. And it's about time if I may say so."

So she knew. His disproportionate anger over his relationship with the Doctor had betrayed him. Sighing humbly, he followed her through the huge, massive doors and back into the hall where Riker was already waiting. A broad smile on his bearded face, he leaned casually against a huge, ridiculously pink plush sofa, his stature imposing in the middle of the room.

"There you are." He grinned as he watched them both emerge. "Since all is going well on the bridge, and you're done for the day, I thought I'd take you to dinner in the ancient town center, if you'd like? Someone told me there's wonderful handmade food there."

Picard quickly raised his hand to stop his commander, his heart leaping out of his chest. "I can't..."

Riker pushed himself off the chair and came closer. "Do not worry, Captain. Dr. Crusher will join us in about an hour when she's finished collecting her last probes. I'll send her the coordinates as soon as we're settled in."

Did he already know as well?

Picard groaned, this time much longer than before. Tugging at the top of his uniform, he strode forward and, without turning back, asked grumpily. "Aren’t you coming?"

Riker flashed Deanna a huge, disarming smile and muttered, "See, I told you so.”

=/\=

The dark and worn atmosphere they entered was accompanied by dry air and flickering candles. The low ceiling, the walls, the rustic floors, all carved from ancient wood grown in the vast forests of Mercur IV, were decorated with heavy handmade tapestries and paintings. The guest niches were small, with only even smaller tables and plush benches around them. In the center of the dimly lit room throned a massive bar, built of river stones and even older wood.

"Ahhh, just what I had in mind." Riker grinned and strolled through the room first, lowering his head to avoid hitting a beam. Troi and Picard followed close behind, admiring the special interior without saying a word. As they sat down, a young blonde Mercurian waitress approached their table, a smile plastered on her handsome face. "Welcome to Judd's, may I take your order?" Almost immediately, Riker received a poorly concealed elbow check from Troi, who was sitting right next to him, for staring at the blonde a little too long.

"Yeah, right. The drinks." He stated nonchalantly, trying to play it cool and flashing the Counselor an innocent look.

Rolling his eyes inwardly, Picard leaned back on the obviously very comfortable soft back of the overstuffed bench that seemed to be all too popular on this planet while his Number One placed the orders for everyone. Just a few minutes ago he'd sent Beverly the coordinates of this bar and she'd promised to be there as soon as possible. He couldn't wait to see her again after they had parted more than five nights ago in the middle of going where they had never been before - only to be interrupted by Zweller.

Picard felt Troi's scrutinizing eyes on him again. He grabbed the glass of dark red wine that was now in front of him, raised it and nodded to his comrades to take the next course of blunt dis-traction. "Cheers, to us." He almost barked, then quickly drowned half of it down his thirsty throat under the puzzled eyes of the others. "To us." Troi repeated, clinking glasses with Riker and exchanging another meaningful look.

"This... is... amazing!" Crusher hummed, striding across the crowded room towards their table. "Totally awesome." She gyrated, absorbing the atmosphere and smiling broadly. Picard cleared his throat, feeling the immediate resurgence of anxiety as he suppressed the imminent urge to scoop her up in his arms and kiss her until they both ran out of breath. Blushing slightly, he stood - and watched her step closer. "Beverly."

Riker and Deanna viewed them intently, keeping a discreet distance. Obviously, the good doc-tor had changed into casual clothes before coming down here, now wearing a very fitting dark satin blouse and a knee-length mossy green skirt. Her hair was beautifully tied up, a few strands hanging loose around her shoulders. He could feel his heart skip a beat as she leaned in, her fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw. "'Hi there," she whispered, kissing his cheek softly and watching him blush even more. With his mouth hanging still open and frozen in surprise, Crusher turned and waved at Riker and Troi. "Thanks for the invitation, a nice place to end a long day."

It wouldn't have taken much for the two younger ones to burst out laughing at the completely lost look on their captain's face and the wonderful laissez-faire attitude of their CMO. They contented themselves with a broad, satisfied grin and welcomed the doctor.

"Have a seat, Doc." Riker requested as he sipped his drink, pointing to the space next to the Captain, who was still standing and staring at them in disbelief. He gave the waitress a subtle wink and turned his attention back to his friends at the table. “So, how is it going?”

Picard had finally dropped down by her side, resting his arm tentatively on the backrest behind her. Not too close, but not too far away either, just to be safe and not offensive.

"Today we were able to reproduce a simple antidote to block the attacking substances." Beverly explained as she leaned forward, completely uninfected by Jean-Luc’s well-considered actions. "It will come with a charge of bacteriophages to support the self-healing of the base cells. It's a completely new approach to the problem, and it's very compromising... so far."

Troi, sipping her hot chocolate, furrowed her brow.

"Bacterio... what?"

The waitress returned, silently placing an elegant tumbler in front of the doctor and eyeing her intently. "Your drink, ma'am." Grinning, she left the table, leaving the group behind.

"Bacteriophages, like nanites, only in the traditional, sort of natural way. It's like a virus, but a good one. They attack malfunctioning cells and destroy them. They also go with a cancer therapy and immune disorders. These phages can reorganize the system and have a completely different effect on the body than antibiotics." Sipping carefully from her pale drink, Beverly gave them time to let the information sink in.

Riker also leaned forward.

"You mean you're planning to infect the Mercurians with a virus?"

Letting the cool liquid linger on the tip of her tongue, she tried to pinpoint the particular flavor. A hint of juniper and pine needles, a touch of orange and perhaps some local herbs. Looking at the puzzled commander, she smiled contentedly. "A Mercurian version of a gin and tonic?" She closed the mystery.

Riker nodded in agreement and began scratching his beard.

"I'm not sure I like the concept of infecting them with anything."

Slowly sitting back, she let her glass drop to the table and turned to Picard, who was still watching her intently from aside. They exchanged vague glances while Beverly licked her lower lip, concentrating on how to put this into simple words.

"These... phages." She explained, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "They die right after they finished their job. There's no risk of infecting a body."

Finally clearing his throat, Picard reached for his wine, gulping down the rest to distract himself from staring any longer, fearing that his rational senses were inevitably slipping away.

"You say it's safe?" He managed, avoiding her eyes and hearing her sigh. Suddenly startled by her tentative touch claiming his thigh under the table, he felt the small hairs on the back of his neck stand up in attention.

"Of course it is. I would never risk..."

"An outbreak of anything." Troi added.

Beverly shook her head. "That would never happen. The phages only attack defective cells. After that, they simply lack nutrients. There's no risk, as I said."

"Hear! Hear!" Riker blew air through his teeth, a grin slowly forming on his bearded face. "So, you're done here?"

"That depends on the results tomorrow, but yes, if everything goes well, that's it. I just finished the last series of tests."

"I would really appreciate that. Especially if you could return to the ship as soon as possible. Worf is driving me crazy as long as you're here on the planet without any further security. As I told the Captain on our way here, I would recommend that he return to the ship as well. It's bad enough that Nurse Ogawa is staying with you in the palace. We don't know what will happen when the cure is ready.”

The waitress reappeared, this time placing enormous plates of roasted birds and vegetables in front of the four of them.

At the massive portions, Beverly gasped with excitement - as she marveled at the food, the tension of the day finally dissolved and her stomach grumbled in confirmation.

A distinct chuckle escaped Picard's throat as he observed her well known behavior and appetite return. Discreetly lowering his voice, he said: "I've already told Will I'll stay here as long as you do." Then he added, swallowing an offhand remark, "Even if I have to take care of your safety myself.“

Surprised and distracted for a moment from her intriguing task, Beverly glanced up at him and raised a changeling brow. She could see his lips quiver in anticipation, waiting for the usual sharp reply or dry remark he was accustomed to. This time, however, he was disappointed. "I would really like that." She replied kindly instead, her eyes glittering with subtle delight.

Riker, who had just stuffed a huge piece of the fat bird into his mouth, nearly choked on it. Coughing helplessly from his inability to hide his laughter, he almost suffocated. With little pity, Troi turned and slapped him on the back, perhaps a little too hard.

Too hungry to be offended, Crusher proceeded to eliminate her own food challenge, accompanied by Picard's fascinated, scrutinizing gaze and a less obvious palm on the small of her back. He simply couldn't keep his hands off her, now that he was eventually allowed to, appropriate or not.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER V

"I am afraid that some ministers are trying to find a cure against us. It seemed very obvious that there is something going on that they don't want to tell. I'm really upset that after all, they're even attacking you. They are completely unaware of the consequences..."

Closing his eyes, Picard groaned and let the air slowly fill his lungs again. Hearing her snicker, he decided to open one eye again.

“Beverly.” He breathed sternly.

“Yes Captain.” She mimicked, seriously, a distant gleam in her eyes.

He sighed contentedly, remembering where he was and who he was with, as he felt her fingertips run playfully down his naked torso. Smoothly he started shifting his neat position from lying flat on his back in Beverly's bed by turning on his side. He grabbed her wrist and gently stopped her doings. Searching her gaze intently in the dimly lit room, a smile washed over his face just as he found her smiling back at him.

"Are you happy?" Picard hummed, quietly releasing her wrist and tracing small circles along her forearm, savoring the thrilling satisfaction of her close physical presence.

Her hair disheveled and her eyes blurred with still burning desire, she nudged closer and kissed his lips softly. Touching his jawline and gently caressing his brow, Beverly sighed. “I am. More than you can imagine.”

But he could, feeling so content and relaxed after just beginning to explore more than a life-time of buried emotions and desires. Something deep inside his soul still hadn't fully under-stood what had happened to lead to this wonderful, breath-taking result. He knew when. But why she hadn't simply run off like he'd expected her to after his sudden outburst of raging jealousy and ire, trapping her with his fury and forcing her to comply. It was still a mystery to him that she had simply met his flaming vigor with her own, at least equally demanding power over him. Actually, she should have run for her life and never come back. And he would still have obliged.

But in spite of everything, here she was, nestled in his arms after hours of intense lovemaking, extensively catching up for years of denial.

"Beverly, I'm eternally sorry it took me so long to realize... to accept..."

She soothed him with a soft kiss, caressing his jaw again. "Don't." Beverly hushed, nuzzling her nose against his. "You and I, we've both been fools for far too long."

He nodded against her forehead, his thumb brushing gently across her lips, memorizing every minute since they jumped off the famous bridge, sending goosebumps all over his skin. "You never cease to amaze me, Cherie." Capturing her lips, he paused to savor her tantalizing taste. There were still hints of thyme and rosemary on her tongue, captivating his senses. He could get lost just by kissing her. And if he did, he would die happily in that moment, enveloped in her wonderful presence.

"And again you talk too much, Jean-Luc." Beverly breathed, a moan escaping her throat, causing a new wave of desire to rush through her veins, raging downward. Slowly, she wrapped one long, slender leg around his hips and pulled him closer, teasing him further with a subtle thrust to his sensitive groin.

A low, drawn-out growl escaped his lips as he finally chuckled, not believing his luck. "Not satisfied yet, Cherie?" He pushed back against her, pulling her slender waist closer as he kissed her collarbone, leaving a wet trail while moving towards her bare shoulder. Vanilla and cinnamon, he thought, this time with more patience to recognize the scents, but his brain was already tripping over his racing heart.

To give him better access, she leaned back, her hands wandering over his head, fondling the tips of his ears. Following her movement, he thrust forward, sliding on top of her, his mouth searching her heated, sensitive skin as he straddled her hips. He'd never felt so wanted, so satisfied, so full of love in his life. Her insatiable hunger drove him on, finally able to do all the things he'd long imagined and longed for. Reality was nothing compared to his fantasies, just the simplicity of her intimate touch could almost send him over the edge, and obviously it did. Searching her blue orbs full of desire, watching them quiver with anticipation, he felt himself shiver under her intense gaze, a jolt of pleasure rippling through his body.

Thinking that friendship would ever be enough had been absolutely insane, costing them so many years of what could have been.

Kissing her lips with gentle force, melting into her delicious mouth, he felt himself fall, deeper than he ever thought possible. Drawn into her soul, her pulsing core enveloping his wanting need with a ferocity that took his breath away. "My God, how I love you." He pressed through his teeth, his whole body already vibrating with intense emotion. Sliding easily into her pulsing, welcoming depths, both moaned in unison, overwhelmed by perfect completeness. Cupping his face, Beverly lifted her head and brushed her lips against his again, a sharp, delighted gasp escaping her mouth as they began to softly move in unison.

But a sudden frantic, loud knock on the door made them both freeze.

"For God's sake!" Picard cursed, his voice ragged with arousal and frustration, holding himself still and dropping his head into Beverly's delicious neck.

"Maybe they'll go away?" She purred after a few seconds of catching her breath, slowly licking her lower lip as she ran her fingertips gently down his spine. She felt him sigh in annoyance, his heart pounding wildly against her trembling chest, trying in vain to cool his overheated blood. Silently praying for the world to just disappear, Beverly kissed his ear, gently nuzzling the inviting spot underneath. Growling, Picard sank deeper into her, his skin tingling from head to toe.

But the knocking grew louder, echoing mercilessly through the room. "Next time, I will kill anyone who interrupts me." Picard hissed, far beyond his patience.

That made her laugh out loud. Chuckling, she pushed him up.

"Go and check who is risking his life by stopping you from pleasuring me."

Sitting back up, he rubbed his face in defeat and stated dryly with a raised eyebrow, "This is gradually becoming a trauma for me, you know."

By now there was a steady drumbeat at the door. Exhaling deeply, he grabbed his boxers, slipped them on and stood. "My pants?" Picard hummed to himself, taking one last look at Beverly's beautiful bare form, accompanied by an adorable smile. Deciding to let the matter drop, he pulled the blanket over her and headed quickly for the door.

"Lieutenant Ogawa?"

Alyssa stood and stared at her Captain, bare except for his underpants. Despite the fact that she had seen him like this more than once in sickbay during a medical, she felt herself blushing and began chewing uncomfortably on her lip. It had never been this personal. "I'm sorry, I..." She looked down at his well-defined upper body, trying not to look any lower, and cleared her throat. She caught a glimpse of movement in the room behind him and involuntarily followed it. She recognized her superior and friend rushing into the bathroom, clad only in the bed covers. Her heartbeat quickened to a new level, torn between embarrassment, immense happiness for the two of them, shame for invading their privacy, and deep anger as to why she had to.

Alyssa knew this was the worst timing ever. But it was no use. "Sir, I checked the science lab a few minutes ago because Doctor Crusher ordered me to retrieve the samples as soon as possible. I'm afraid someone broke the seal, damaged the doors, entered and destroyed our work."

"Merde." He barked, offended and finally really pissed.

"I'm on my way." They both heard Beverly's muffled call through the bathroom door, already busy getting dressed. She threw a shirt and some pants at Picard as she emerged, her cheeks flushed. "Give us two minutes, Alyssa." Her eyes searched the dark ones of her chief nurse and friend, apologizing and at the same time silently thanking her for her professional handling of the somewhat unusual and private situation.

The small Asian woman just smiled and nodded politely as Beverly closed the door to give them some privacy. Slipping into his pants and pulling on the plain white shirt, Picard shook his head. "I really don't like this. It gets worse every day."

Leaning forward, Beverly captured his lips again. "We'll get through this. You'll see." Touching his nose, she sighed. "And in case I forgot to mention it... I love you." She traced his jawline with her fingertips, a tiny, lovely spark in her eyes, and felt him finally relax under her touch.

"I know." He whispered confidently, his grey orbs shining back brightly.

"Oh." Beverly raised a haughty eyebrow at him and reached for the doorknob. "Then at least we've got that sorted." Opening the door and nodding to Alyssa who waited patiently for them, they stepped into the hallway.

It was an odd feeling to be so damned happy while at the same time facing this challenging mission. Unable to hide his emotions completely, Picard growled and finally followed the two women to the labs.

Chapter Text

Crusher, Ogawa and Picard arrived at about the same time as the security team the Captain had called while running to the labs.

Worf looked even grimmer than usual, his face dark with anger. "Sir, the lab is secured, no one is getting out and no one is getting in. However, it is very likely that the person or persons who caused this are long gone."

Nodding to his superiors, he opened the door and stepped forward, phaser at hand. Without warning, Crusher pushed past him and raced toward the test area. "Doctor!" the massive Klingon barked, deeply alarmed, and following right behind.

The room looked devastated, the containers strewn across the floor, broken PADDs lying everywhere. Beverly looked at the huge screen on the wall, touched the surface carefully and brought the system to life.

Picard stopped behind her, holding his breath. Alyssa rushed through the small entrance to the cooling units and disappeared behind the doors.

"Okay, let's see how much damage has been done." Beverly declared surprisingly cool, entering commands into the console.

Worf followed her nurse, decking and protecting her way while the Captain secured and watched the Doctor’s. Gently touching her shoulder, he couldn't tear his eyes from the screen when a big, fat message popped up. "Formatting complete. Have a nice day." Crusher, Ogawa and Picard arrived at about the same time as the security team the Captain had called while running to the labs.

"Mon dieu." Picard hissed through clenched teeth and ran a hand over his head. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to control his emotions, and slowly realized that Crusher wasn't moving at all. Blinking in surprise, he touched her shoulder again and she finally turned around. The tiny smile that graced her features stopped his heart from racing. "What?" he murmured. "Did I… miss something?"

Carefully, she leaned forward a bit and lowered her voice. "All the files have been deleted, Jean-Luc."

He nodded, confirming the obvious, but still not understanding why she was smiling at this moment.

"We should investigate who is sabotaging us here before we move on. It could all be for nothing if we don't find out."

"Beverly, your work, the results, everything is gone, I don't know how it could get any worse?"

The spark in her eyes told him he had indeed missed something. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it tenderly, silently demanding an explanation.

"I was absolutely aware that this could happen at any time, Jean-Luc. I would be crazy to keep all the information and results only on the planet side. Every damn bit and byte we collected was uploaded and saved to our ship's computer. Doctor Selar supervised the process as long as it took. Don't worry about losing the research results.” Softly stroking the back of his hand with her thumb, she smiled again, watching him intently as realization slowly set in.

"You've got to be kidding." He exclaimed, a massive rock falling from his heart. "Please never scare me like that again."

Chuckling sympathetically, Crusher nodded. "I'll try my best."

"Freeze, don't move!" Suddenly, the sharp voice of a male Mercurian cut through the air. Waving a massive weapon in front of him, he approached, panic written all over his face. "I've got them, sir!" He barked excitedly, pointing the gun at their heads as it audibly loaded.

Stiff, Crusher and Picard looked up, gazed at their attacker, and groaned in unison.

Four more Mercurians stormed in with weapons of similar appearance. When a sixth man strolled in, it was none other than the Governor himself.

He watched the pair with undivided attention, staring intently at their joined hands and finally at the mess in the room and came to a halt.

"Still denying the obvious, Captain?" he growled, his jaw working hard. "After not only lying to me, you now want to undermine and steal what is ours?"

Clearing his throat and carefully letting go of Beverly's hand, Picard tucked his shirt down, suddenly feeling downright silly for not at least being in uniform.
"Governor, as you can see, someone has broken into the laboratory. Doctor Crusher and I have just arrived..."

"Of course you have." The elder replied, not waiting for the captain to finish his explanation. "I can clearly see that your wonderful doctor has successfully destroyed any hope we had, any attempt to cure our people, any possibility of giving us freedom and perhaps even joining the Federation. Perhaps I should just take you both into custody, since you obviously continue to support her malicious actions."

Puffing heavily, he stepped closer and glared at the doctor, who towered over him by almost eight inches. "But since I'm still convinced that the negotiations should continue, and I'm really trying hard to show my good will, Captain..." he glared at the younger man, "the traitor alone will be arrested and put on trial. But be aware, if I find out..."

Swallowing a remark, Crusher exchanged glances with Picard without budging. With a subtle shake of her head, she told him to hold back what he knew and to be patient.

Picard felt his heart crumble at the thought of her being arrested after all she had done for them. He raised his hand to soothe his opponent and slowly lowered his head, showing some humility. "Governor Kruškov, perhaps you should look out for this particular traitor among your own ranks. There's someone who undermines your and our competence and attacks every attempt to come to a reasonable conclusion. Can't you see that?"

Kruškov's anger flared. With a single nod to his security, they stepped forward, two of them roughly grabbing Crusher's arm and shoving her toward the exit.
"Beverly!" Picard gasped.

"Doctor Crusher!" A second call echoed from the doors leading to the cooling units, where Worf appeared at the same time, a phaser aimed at the group of Mercurians, more than ready to defend his friend.

Kruškov didn't even blink, squaring his shoulders to demonstrate his will. "Stop your silly Klingon or I'll put him on a chain!" He barked, his eyes blazing with fire.
Crusher turned, struggling against the firm grip that dug deep into her arms, searching Picard's horrified gaze. "Call Selar, talk to her. I'll be fine, don't do anything stupid, please."

Raising his eyebrows in surprise, he nodded in agony, while the angry Klingon did not even think about lowering his weapon.

"Doctor?" He asked again, growling. Chewing her lip, she threw him a shaky smile. "I'll be fine, Mr. Worf."

Picard stood, still staring at the doors through which the group with Beverly had disappeared, not even beginning to comprehend what had just happened.

"Sir?"

Looking up at his frantic security chief, he sighed and slowly began to realize that the problems had only just begun. "Commander, you will contact Mr. Data, call him down to assist you in your investigation. Please be thorough, leave no stone unturned, but be careful. We don't want to risk another incident."

The Klingon was not happy, a sour grunt escaped from his throat. "Captain, they have no right to arrest the Doctor, I must protest..."

Touching his arm, the Captain sighed. "I completely agree. But for now, we will comply and dig in secret. We won't be of any help if we stir up more dust. I'm sure they won't hurt her, after all they still want our medical support.

Picard was not nearly as confident as he tried to appear. Stuffing his own fear deep in his gut, he exhaled.

"Captain?" Alyssa Ogawa's soft voice sounded behind them. "Are you alright? Where is Doctor Crusher?"

=/\=

He stormed through the palace, his legs moving almost on their own, towards the huge office, feeling his breathing become ragged. The rage he felt was consuming him, horror rising in his chest. This man must be insane.

"The Governor does not want to be disturbed!" The small Mercurian secretary announced, hovering behind a large counter.

Ignoring her presence, he jumped to the massive entrance, the large wooden doors tightly shut. Grabbing the huge handle, he tore them open and squeezed through as fast as he could.

He saw the hidden door behind the huge, massive desk close just in time. The tall, broad figure of Kruškov crouched in a leather wing chair, his thin hair disheveled and his eyes dark. His gaze snapped up, rage burning in his face.

“I did not call you!” He barked.

Faulkner didn't even flinch, storming in front of his governor and towering over him. "You im-prisoned the Starfleet Doctor? Aren't you ashamed of this foolish act?" Faulkner knew he was completely out of line, his open disrespect for the leader of this territory jeopardizing his status and perhaps his life. But he was tired of hiding. "This group of officers is our only hope to solve every damn problem at once, especially that doctor who almost finished the vaccine!"

Kruškov jumped to his feet and straightened his broad shoulders. "Pah, who says the Romulans won't offer the same? And that naughty woman can easily be replaced by another, more respectable Romulan scientist. So who is the fool here?"

More anger flared, and Faulkner unceremoniously slammed his fist down on the table. "Oh you just shut up, these people are willing to help, not just make the biggest profit." He fixed his op-ponent dismissively and finally shook his head. "After all, the Federation sent the finest and brightest they’ve to offer. These Romulans will just keep us alive as long as absolutely necessary. You know nothing, Kruškov, but you risk everything!"

A dry laugh escaped the slightly younger man's mouth. "It doesn't change anything, Faulkner. She already destroyed everything. The vaccine is lost. If we can't help our people and trade the ores, we'll fall back into civil war, you know damn well we can't risk that happening again."

"When did you become so toxic, Dimôr? Your wife would turn over in her cold, lonely grave if she saw you like this."

Kruškov growled. "Leave my wife out of this! The effects of those damned ores ate her alive!"

Glaring at each other, Faulkner finally exhaled. "I know. She was my sister, after all."

The Governor's eyes softened a shade. "This Crusher female remains in custody. Her passionate captain will do everything to get her back unharmed and free. A little pressure never hurts."

Faulkner cleared his throat and leaned over the desk, trying again to convince his brother-in-law to retreat. "Oh, come on. He's just her mate, Dimôr. You saw it yourself, most impressively and with your own eyes. There is nothing else you can accuse them of, although they are a bit..." he swallowed an acerbic remark and tilted his head. "Very active in private matters." He finished, satisfied with his choice of words. "Even we were young... some days. Remember?"

Kruškov sneered. "You. Not me, Josúa. And before this gets lost: The Zweller guy also seems suspicious. Snooping around, always seeking my presence, and observing this fiery doctor with some kind of sick interest. I saw him exit her quarters yesterday when she wasn't around. May-be there's more to it than even Picard knows."

"A private affair?" Faulkner guessed, slowly realizing that his relative might not be suffering from paranoia. He, too, had seen some disturbing things.
"We meet with the Romulans, see what they have to offer and then we'll decide how to proceed."

Faulkner really hoped that everything would be resolved as Kruškov thought. After all, they didn't need any of these aliens down here. This woman alone was obviously still trying to help them without focusing only on the trade advantages. But after the complete loss of her re-search, they had nothing.
"Crusher stays here." The Governor announced again.

"Obviously." Josúa Faulkner sighed.

Kruškov nodded, visibly satisfied. "I know, and without her there will be no vaccine at all. You can't do anything. They'll need her. But if the Romulans provide the more efficient way to solve our problems, Starfleet will never set foot on our planet again."

Faulkner drew a defeated breath, knowing that Crusher's solution would have been the easiest way out. The Romulans on the other side would only prolong the suffering. "You will regret this, Dimôr."

Chapter Text

He left Selar's office with a slightly pleased smile on his otherwise stern face and turned toward the turbolift. He thanked God for Beverly's foresight in rigorously backing up the data to sickbay's main computer. Especially since she had apparently left and uploaded only basic facts to the planet's data storage. If these people who had destroyed the work of her medical teams were able to steal some of her results, they would simply fail to process them. He would love to thank her personally later.

As he stepped out onto the bridge, he could still feel the uneasiness that accompanied the thought of being forced to leave her behind.

"Sir, a warbird is approaching orbit." The young ensign at the helm suddenly reported.

"Welcome to the big sale." Picard hummed, strolled to his seat and swiftly dropped into it.

"Sir?"

"Never mind, on screen."

"Hail them?"

"No."

"Captain?" Riker leapt forward to meet his superior's gaze.

"We will wait. The government has made it clear that they want to meet with the Romulans first."

The bearded officer shook his head. "And... Beverly?"

Picard sighed deeply. "Kruškov gave his word. She is safe."

"I still don't like it, sir." With a grimace, Riker leaned back and glared at the throning warbird.

"Commander Zweller was allowed to stay behind and keep an eye on her well-being. He's still down there, probably for his own purposes, but I'm sure he won't let anything happen to her either." Picard told him.

"You still trust him?" Riker asked quietly, frowning in despair.

Picard turned and gazed at him, the silence lingering while his mind spun and he decided to be honest. "Perhaps not the way I should after all these years. But we'll get her out as soon as possible. Believe me, I would be the first to storm the government if it meant getting her free, safe and sound."

With a sly smile, Riker nodded, thinking he liked this new side of his Captain. "I'm sure we will, sir."

=/\=

"This is scandalous!" The governor frothed with rage, bolted from his chair at the head of the main table, and stormed toward the oversized windows.

"Governor, accept our very generous offer or become another slave of the Federation."

T'Vek sat, unfazed by the older man's sudden outburst. The security team flanking her, wore the same blunt expression. "You mine, we buy. You will not sell anything to another party. Our payment will be adequate."

"You can't deny medical supplements!" Kruškov growled, still not believing his ears, but avoiding eye contact. T'Vek suddenly stood and turned to face the older Mercurian. "Take it or leave it. There will be no more debate. You can afford a lot of medicine for your people. If everything goes our way, of course." Her voice was cold, completely devoid of emotion. "A common trade, no more, no less." She added.

Gazing up, Kruškov framed her hard, eagle-like features and tried to calm his rapidly beating heart. He didn't like the callousness and insensibility the Romulans showed towards the situation of his people. Groaning inwardly, he nodded his head. "Very well, Commander T'Vek. I will speak with the rest of the government and inform you within the next week. We should agree..."

"12 hours, Governor. That should be sufficient."

"Sorry?" he stuttered. "That will never be enough to convince... The ministers..."

The Romulan waved her hand dismissively. "Your business, not ours. Let us know, we will not wait forever." Nodding to her team, she pressed her communicator and ordered her ship to beam them up.

Kruškov stood, alone, staring at the now empty place in front of him.

Possibly Faulkner had been right. Maybe the Federation folks had been the lesser of two evils. If he did not need this help so urgently, he would have just throw them all out. The vaccine had receded into unattainable distance and the supplements weren't even within reach. His people had never invested in science. The field was ridiculously small compared to the possibilities of this single Federation ship in orbit. He also knew that the Romulans weren't that backward either. He'd really hoped they would offer a better solution. Accepting their offer and asking Starfleet for support in the meantime was out of the question. He knew right away that the Captain would never really agree to this compromise. Why should he, when he had, to make matters worse, imprisoned his mate?

Groaning loudly as his hands glided anxiously over the growing pate, he shook his head. Per-haps this was the plot and the good captain would budge if this doctor asked him to. He was very… very fond of her. He activated his intercom and cleared his throat. "Josúa? Are you there?"

~~~

"The planet is hailing us, sir."

Picard's eyebrow rose in satisfaction and he threw a slightly amused look at his Number One.

"That was faster than expected." Riker confirmed. "On screen, Mr. Larcov."

The young ensign turned and eyed them with unease. "Sir, it’s for the Captain's eyes only. It's the Governor."

~~~

Stepping into his office, Picard felt an unsettled feeling rise inside him. But, things were progressing at least. After fetching a cup of tea, he finally dropped into his seat and activated his screen. The Starfleet insignia disappeared shortly after. He involuntarily held his breath. Show-time.

But the image that appeared on his monitor was completely unexpected. "Beverly."

Her head lowered, she gazed up slowly, her eyes clouded and her lips quivering. Someone who didn't know her as good as he did would have missed that particular look. She was furious. He'd almost smiled at her heartbreakingly sweet attitude. "Are you... all right?" Picard asked gently, trying to play it cool and discreetly watching her reaction to the source. Obviously, she was deliberately hiding her true emotions.

"Jean-Luc, there is something I have been meaning to tell you..." she began carefully, her sapphire depths fixing his warm grey ones. "You were absolutely right. I've come to the conclusion that our best option is to assist the Mercurians with medical help only. Starfleet shouldn't try to get those ores in exchange. It's our duty and obligation to help the helpless."

Exhaling quickly, she leaned closer, not waiting for his possible response. "I know, you told me that before, and I admit you were absolutely right. You're my captain, it's not my job to question your motives. Just like when you told me you were not interested." He took a sharp breath, slowly realizing what she was trying to tell him. The rising desire for her almost made him pant.

"I... did?" he whispered simply, still unable to put all the pieces together.

"You know damn well I would never try to influence or persuade you into something you don't want to do."

Feeling himself blush slightly, he cleared his throat. The hell she wouldn't - he knew and admired right that - maybe just not ever. "So do you think we should drop the meds and go?"

Silently thanking him for knowing and appreciating her so well, Beverly nodded almost invisibly.

"But Doctor, you know the data has been erased? We had no success in recovering your work. I'm afraid you'll have to start all over again."

That caused a delicate smile to flit across her elegant features. He had gotten the hint, she was not alone in the room. Picard slowly leaned back, his eyes speaking volumes. "I recommend we talk to Kruškov about letting you join the Enterprise and continue your work. Lt. Ogawa is already waiting for your expertise." He grabbed his hot steaming cup of Earl Grey and raised it to his lips, letting his gaze fall leisurely.

"No!" Ah, there he was, hiding in a secluded corner. "That is out of question, the physician will stay with us as long as required and as long as I wish. We won't let her go before the vaccine is finished - right here on the planet, Picard!" Kruškov stepped into view range and appeared directly behind Beverly's sitting form.
With a slight grimace, the Captain dropped his cup. "You seem to forget neither the Mercurian government, nor you can force Starfleet to avert your suffering. After all, we're not responsible for the loss of Dr. Crusher's research." His voice was cold as ice, while his eyes never left Beverly’s.

When the older man finally grabbed her shoulder roughly from behind and thrust his flushed face directly into the screen, Picard almost flinched. "I may not be able to force Starfleet's decision, but I can assert my right to keep your mate after she sabotaged our labs and destroyed our scientific progress. That should be incentive enough to reconsider. Shouldn't it?" His hand closed around her shoulder, his fingers digging deeper to prove his point.

Picard saw her cringe for a second and then her beautiful eyes switch to rage. He knew that she would never give in to this obvious blackmail. But he fought hard to convince himself that he wouldn't either. The vulnerability he felt inside because of his insanely beating heart was almost overwhelming. Beverly noticed his struggle and her head began to shake discreetly but deliberately no. Don't even think about it, she warned him. He would apologize later, but right now he wanted her back, no matter what. He still wondered why the Mercurians seemed so obsessed about their relationship. Picard cleared his throat, straightened his uniform tunic and scoffed. "I wish to see the doctor in person first. Then we can discuss the details."

Her gaze froze, melted and then froze again. There was no right or wrong. After all these years, he was ready to call her his first priority. She should be flattered, but the timing was horrible. Exhaling deeply, Beverly turned just in time to see Kruškov smirk. "I knew you would be reasonable." With that, the screen faded to black.

"Picard to Riker. Prepare for my departure. I will beam down to the government shortly. Alone."

He could hear Worf's dark, dismissive growl as Riker tried to answer. "Sir? Are you sure that..."

Taking a breath, Picard almost smiled. "Prepare an emergency security team to beam down, just in case." With that, he closed the channel without waiting for an answer. He appreciated the concern of his crew. He really did, and was even grateful for it. Usually.

But when did he become so exposed, so ready to abandon all precautions and run? Maybe that one day decades ago. The day Walker introduced him to Jack's new lover. The day his world had been set on fire. The day his artificial heart had decided to fall for the woman who wasn't his. Who was never meant to belong to him, and now suddenly did. In a wonderful, unbelievable new way that he'd never dared to hope for. Unexpectedly realized through his uncontrolled, rampant actions triggered by sheer jealousy and deep felt desire. He really should thank Cortin Zweller for this. Later. When everything was done. Sipping the last of his tea, he rose from his seat. Holstering a phaser on his belt, he made his way to the doors. It was time to get the story rolling.

Chapter Text

His hands were shaking violently. The task of preparing the right mixture was difficult for him. Again, catching a glimpse at the screen showing all the listed ingredients he finally nodded satisfied and took a deep breath. This would be the only way out. All these years of fighting had worn him out. They had almost made it, he wouldn't risk his last success now. Not for Starfleet and not for some godforsaken Romulan. And certainly not for this human doctor who was now jeopardizing the outcome. He felt sorry for her as a person he admittedly even liked, but he was angry that she'd managed to mess up all his well-laid plans by being this compelling trade commodity she was now. Selling the health of his people to the Romulans in exchange for profit was simply disgusting. Her obvious actions, culminating in the destruction of her own work, forced them to abandon all the hopes that had soon flamed up after her successful research. He still didn't understand what was really going on. But he knew that the exploitation of his planet had to stop, especially when that damned vaccine she'd developed was no longer within reach. Back to zero. The line was here. Slipping the stolen hypo into his hidden pocket, he closed his eyes. The day would come when Mercur would be free and even Dimôr would understand. This damned plague would die. Without the help of traitors and alien races. He had had enough.

As he left his quarters, he tilted his head, proud to be able to create final facts.

=/\=

As they rounded the last corner of the long corridor, they saw a dark figure disappearing quickly behind a door. It was late at night on the planet, but Picard could feel the unease growing. It hadn't been far to the rooms the Council provided for their special 'guests', over-protected by security systems and heavily armed, fierce-looking men. Perhaps beaming down alone hadn't been his wisest idea today. But Picard still felt it was his best option to get them out unharmed. Every time the Governor was about to be put under pressure, he began to behave in unpredictable ways. Picard sighed inwardly, knowing he was the one to tell. Jumping headlong into a confrontation for his own benefit. If he was honest, he never expected to get so damn frail. Not after being friends for so long. He was shocked at how much had changed already. The urge to get her back into his arms was devastating, if not unbearable. Since he knew what he'd missed all these years, he wasn't willing to forgo one minute longer. Politics or rules be damned. The corridor fell silent again. He glanced at Kruškov who was walking beside him, gave him a skeptical look and pointed discreetly at the door. The older man shrugged unimpressed. "This way, captain. Don't try to distract me or imagine things. I'm well aware of your intentions. The good doctor is surely waiting for your arrival." Exhaling in frustration, he shook his head, hoping that he had only seen a ghost.

Entering the security code, Kruškov unlocked the massive wooden doors to Crusher's arrest room without bothering to make himself known. He gave the captain one last warning glance before pushing him inside. He, however, stood rooted to the spot and waited for the plot to unfold. After hearing nothing for a few seconds, he took a step forward, now standing directly behind Picard, who was frozen in place, watching the scenery. This was not good at all. Not for the formidable Captain, he thought. Unable to hide his lecherous grin, he stifled a spiteful chuckle.

The captain was aghast. A gigantic shock ran down his spine and petrified him. He hadn't expected anything like what was happening right in front of him. The room was dimly lit, spartanly furnished, but far from looking like a jail. That wasn't what shocked him to the core. He cleared his throat with pain and almost choked on his words.

"Corey, what the hell do you think you're doing?" His vision went almost white. Zweller looked up, his face filled with sheer panic. He was crouched over Beverly's still form, lying backwards on the small sofa, his hands flat on her bare chest, her blue sweater ripped wide open, his eyes equally wide. Seconds before, his mouth had been roughly pressed to hers, frantic, almost feverish.

"Jean-Luc, thank God!" he breathed, his hands which had stopped all movement now returning to their task. Again and again, he pressed his weight against her chest while counting down to zero. Picard suddenly saw the cold sweat running down his friend’s face. He didn't notice Beverly's deathly pale skin until he realized that Cortin was not ravishing her, but desperately trying to save her life. Even Kruškov seemed to have figured it out, judging by his surprised gasp as he watched from a safe distance.

Picard half jumped, half flew the remaining distance, roughly pushing his friend off of her. "What have you done?" He barked, his voice rapidly fading.

Suddenly and with all his might, he began to understand how much she meant to him, and fought equally hard not to collapse right on the spot. Zweller hastily withdrew his hands, which were shaking uncontrollably anyway. Tilting his head in fear, he watched as his friend touched her carotid artery, checking for a pulse.

"I came down to talk to her when I found her unconscious, barely breathing." Zweller whimpered, his own pulse ringing high in his ears. "Should I call medical?"

Picard's eyes spit fire.  He'd never felt so furious and helpless at the same time. "You better..." he finally growled, unable to think straight.

Bending down, he examined her features, her lips unnaturally purple while her skin grew paler by the second. Suddenly, years of basic medical training kicked in. All emotions went numb, sending electric shocks through his body. She wouldn't die at his hands. She wouldn't dare. Not now. He inhaled sharply and resumed Zweller's work, pumping his flat hands down on her chest. One, two, three. He caught her limp, unmoving lips and blew air into her paralyzed lungs. Tears stinging in his eyes, he repeated his actions again and again. She felt so painfully cold. Everything he had ever dreamed of would vanish in an instant if he failed. Losing Jack had been disastrous, but losing her would eat him alive. One, two, three. Breathe. He would never see her beautiful sapphire eyes again. How she looked at him with desire, love, and so much more he obviously didn't deserve. One, two, three, breathe. Feel her gorgeous body pressed neatly against his own. Revel in the perfection they had both plunged into after years of denial. One, two, three, breathe. Watching her longingly over the rim of his cup of tea every bloody morning, watching her smile at him as only she was able to. Marvel at her delicious features and her glorious hands, ready to save one or sometimes hundreds of lives at a time. Or get into serious trouble with her sharp mouth and mind. One, two, three, breathe. He couldn't go on without her.  She was his anchor in a world he didn't trust. A world which wasn't supposed to let him have a family. He had never thought about it before. A family. God, come back to me. His heart slumped even deeper.

"Jean-Luc..." he felt Zweller touch his shoulder gently. "No!" he protested loudly, his cheeks flushed with exertion and pain.   

One, two, three, breathe. Please. Don't you dare die on me.

“Stop it!”

He felt a rough hand grab him from behind and push him out of the way. "Captain, I'm here. Let me..." Very far away in the corner of his mind he noticed that it wasn't Zweller's panic-stricken voice anymore. "Doctor Selar..." he coughed, switching back to autopilot and staring at the Vulcan doctor who was bending over Beverly and already scanning her immobile form.

"She is... beginning to breathe again, thanks to you. Still, her pulse is weak. There is obviously some very ugly poison coursing through her veins." She finally said as a matter of fact, interpreting her tricorder readings as dispassionately as only a Vulcan could.

Running a gentle hand over her superior's cheek, pushing some clammy hair out of her face, Selar felt her stir. "I'll beam her directly to sickbay, Captain." It wasn't a question, and he didn't feel like stopping her. The weight he felt on his shaking shoulders was indescribable.

As soon as she'd seen him nod, he saw the bluish tingle of the transporter beam grab them both and vanish into nothingness. Maybe there was a chance.

Still panting, he wiped his wet face with the sleeve of his uniform to catch himself. This was getting too close, damn it. He couldn't afford to be so exposed, but he was at a loss. All those fears built up over the years of losing her, or even her friendship, had culminated in this crazy attempt on her life. And right now, he realized that he would be devastated no matter what the actual status of their relationship was. The ever-present panic of getting closer didn't change anything, except that they missed too much time being together and savoring their love. He was a fool to have waited so long. The promise he'd made to himself to honor Jack had been settled so long ago. All that followed were silly excuses for his cowardice, for his deep distress at letting someone as special as her into his life. Because that meant forever, maybe. If she would let him.   

 
"I want that fracked woman back!" the governor suddenly snapped back to life, jolting Picard out of his reverie.

Zweller immediately jumped and grabbed his friend just in time before he could wrap his hands around Kruškov's fat neck.

"Now I'm going to kill him..." Picard snarled breathlessly, struggling with dwindling strength against the Commander who was restraining him from behind. He dragged Picard back and held him tight, trying to calm down himself.

"Even if I can understand your point, please stop. He's the wrong one to attack, Jean-Luc." Zweller hissed into his left ear. "Please, he's not worth all this fuss."

Feeling his heart miss a beat, Picard turned in the grip of his old friend and eyed him more closely. "You!"

With a sharp inhale, he grabbed Zweller's arm and freed himself from his tight grip. The latter suddenly became aware of their situation. "Jean-Luc, stop it. The traitor is not in this room!" Dropping his gaze, he muttered, "Even if not everyone in here wants only the best."

Swallowing his pride, he thought about how to tell his friend what had really happened. "Maybe we should talk alone?" He finally suggested, pointing discreetly at Kruškov. The Mercurian security team had meanwhile arrived and quickly surrounded their governor to protect him from further attacks.

They should have done that for Beverly, Zweller thought tensely, ignoring Picard's glare. His jaw worked hard and he clenched his teeth, obviously trying to regain control. "You are going to tell me everything you know. I've had enough of your secrecy, this ends here. And if there's anything I don't like about your explanations, you're done. Once and for all."

His eyes glued to his moving, dry lips, Cortin Zweller realized that Picard had indeed changed over the years. Beverly had been right. The man standing before him was no longer the young and arrogant rouge from the Academy. The man he'd shared everything with and gotten into every damned mess with had grown up, but Cortin hadn't. Life wasn't a game anymore, with danger lurking around every corner. Loving Jean-Luc like a brother for over thirty years had made him jealous. He'd never really understood what was going on in his heart, at least. Hearing him talk about Jack over and over again made him sick. The trauma his friend had experienced, grieving for his best friend while loving his widow, suddenly became clear. Zweller had never met Jack Crusher. He'd lost contact with Picard over the years when he left with the Stargazer, his first command. When they finally met again, Jack was long dead. He quickly realized that even then, his friend had maneuvered himself into a hopeless situation. At first, Picard had tried to hide his discomfort at some simple questions Zweller had asked him. Only later, when they'd met at a conference far from his ship, had he confessed his emotional turmoil after drinking too much Aldebaran whiskey. The thought of his best friends suffering manifested itself before his very eyes. "Jean-Luc, let's get back to your ship and sort this out."

"Go. You're not useful anyway." The Governor hummed and turned away in disgust.

"Picard to Enterprise, two to beam up." Staring at his redheaded friend, he felt darkness creep through his mind. Had his longtime friend just saved Beverly's life or had he tried to murder her before? Postponing any decision, he closed his wary eyes.

"Aye, sir. Ready when you are." The immediate confirmation from his transporter chief echoed through the room as Kruškov walked away.

"Energize!"

=/\=

"I am not going to argue about this." Picard barked, dropping into the seat at the end of the large table.

The observation lounge was empty, despite him and Zweller, who was pacing up and down the floor. He paused in the middle of his walk and turned around, looking up at Picard with his hands on his hips. "All right. All of them. The whole lovely bunch of yours."

Exhaling deeply, Zweller grabbed a chair and dropped into it, right next to the captain, as the doors opened and the senior officers strode in. All but one. His heart sank again as he watched the people who felt like family sit down at the table. Riker, sitting awfully strange in his seat, Worf knitting his eyebrows in reserved attention and saying 'I told you so', Data tilting his head in curiosity, LaForge wearing a blank face and Troi scrutinizing, if not analyzing him with her dark eyes and probing mind. He felt unintentionally at home, and yet he didn't. The seat to his right remained empty, a memorial to his own misguided actions. Clearing his throat, he offered a tiny smile, sending each a look of encouraging sympathy.

"Thank you for coming. As you know, things could be a lot better. You may have heard that Doctor Crusher was poisoned down on the planet. We were lucky to find her in time. She is currently being treated in sickbay, so there must be some time to talk and consider our next steps." Placing his hands flat on the table, Picard took a deep breath and gazed directly at Zweller.

‘Your turn' he ordered without saying a word. A silent uneasiness settled over the group, everyone watching the redhead intently. Only Troi continued to stare at Picard with consideration and concern.

Twitching his hands and pressing his fingertips together, Zweller cleared his throat. "First of all, I should mention that I am devastated by what happened down there. My mission never included physical danger to the crew."

He heard Picard cough discreetly, urging him to lay everything out. Deciding to keep staring at the smooth surface the table offered, he collected his thoughts.

"Surely you've heard the rumors about me being a member of Section 31? Haven't you? Then you know now." He blew air through his teeth and shook his head. He was grateful that no one felt the urge to interrupt.

"They sent me to investigate the intentions of the Mercurian Council and government. As you all know, the civil war ended only a few years ago, and the unity they pretend is not as solid as they'd like us to believe. Obviously, there are various parties with their own agendas. After decades of fighting each other for resources and the deaths of millions of people not only from war but also from the side effects of mining, they reordered their priorities away from the planet. Under duress, they soon decided to ask for help after realizing that their science, which had been completely neglected for years, was unable to solve the still existing deadly problems of mining raw elements. But in the meantime, after destroying a large part of their own planet, there was nothing left to trade. So, the Federation entered the scene.”

Riker bent closer and suddenly intervened. "They had every right to ask for help, Commander."

Zweller quickly decided to continue. "Of course they had. But you have to understand, Starfleet wasn't too happy when they discovered that they were also in contact with the Romulans. The Mercurians were apparently trying to take advantage of Starfleet's goodwill, so to speak, and in the meantime intended to become wealthy by trading their rare resources with other parties. Don't get me wrong, Commander, Starfleet is willing to help, but not at any price.”

Now it was Data who interrupted his speech. "It would have been helpful to have been briefed on this beforehand, Cmdr Zweller."

Blushing, he heard Picard hum quietly, evidently agreeing with his android without saying so out loud. "I know." He moved on, his eyes now fixed on Troi, who was the only one who didn't look like she was about to go for his throat.

"Section 31 received a subspace message several weeks ago, origin unknown. All we knew was that someone from the Council wrote it. Since preparations had already begun, they decided to send me with you."

Picard grew impatient. He kept tapping his fingers on the surface of the table and was now glaring at Zweller. "What message, Corey? Please keep it short."

Choking down each sharp remark, he returned his friends imploring gaze. "We should just fuck off and stay off the planet, I think that was what it said, Jean-Luc." Emphasizing his first name, his eyes narrowed in sarcasm. "They would blow up the whole damn planet if we showed up anyway. The message was clear, but apparently not official. We, no, I had to make sure, the Mercurians were so grateful for a proper treatment to their plague that they would downright donate us with all the damned ores they had."

Suddenly silence filled the room. Picard and Zweller exchanged changeling glances. Troi was the one who addressed him, softly and unnervingly to his ears.

"But what happened to Beverly?"

His eyes instantly turned cold, discomfort erasing his rebellious temper. "Everything went relatively smoothly. But we hadn't planned for Doctor Crusher to find a final and all-encompassing solution, especially not so fast." This earned him a low, disparaging grumble from Picard. Ignoring him, he went on.

"My contact at HQ told me they might find a treatment to suppress the effects of mining, no more, no less."

"Beverly thwarted your plan to make them all dependent on our permanent aid?" the captain's mouth snapped open. "By her ... unforeseen brilliance? And you try to kill her for it?"

He raised his hands in defense and slammed them back down on the table. Zweller stood, his mind racing. "Man, I didn't even think of that!" He spat. "But after the destruction of the labs and her subsequent imprisonment, I started my own investigation into things that were rumored behind the scenes. Yes, I did the damage to her research, but that damn vaccine wasn't meant to cure, just to make mining more bearable or... pleasant, so to speak."

"Pleasant mining?" Riker growled. "Sounds like modern slavery."

Zweller squared his shoulders. "I have never harmed Doctor Crusher. But apparently I know who did."

All eyes were on him, the silence dampening the fear in the room. Just as the doors opened again.

"Me too."

Picard could not stop the gasp that automatically left his mouth, sounding like more than a strangled yelp. "Beverly."

Her face was still pale, her damp hair tied back in a French braid, and she was still wearing a gray, sloppy sickbay jumper. She stood, watching Cortin Zweller warily from behind. The captain had never seen her more beautiful, despite the still obvious weakness she didn't dare to show. Fighting the urge to jump up and scoop her into his arms, he just stood there, a cautious smile forming on his lips. "Shouldn't you be in sickbay?" He knew she should, but also accepted her reluctance to be tied to bed when she was needed most.

The watchful smiles appeared on more faces. Except for those of Data and Zweller. The Android just tilted his head. "Doctor?"

Picard felt glued to her form, still not believing that she was here, up and already standing. Breathing and speaking again.

She raised her shaking hand and smiled back at him. "I'm fine, really." Adding a silent and private "thank you" only in his direction. While moving around him, she brushed his arm for just a moment, causing a small sigh to fall from his lips at her proximity. Her heart, still racing from the intoxication and Selar's massive medication, missed a second beat.

Apparently, in her condition, she wasn't able to handle two situations at the same time. The heated rush that was forming in her stomach wasn't helping her fragile health right now. Beverly had to be careful not to faint in front of the assembled senior staff, so she made her way to her seat. The pounding in her ears and the shivering on her skin forced her body to fall down faster and with less grace than she had planned.

But when she finally managed to get settled in the last empty seat across from Zweller, she could see the other redhead squirm under her gaze. Fixing his flickering eyes, she gathered her thoughts. "So, I hear, it was you who found me?"

A ragged breath he didn't know he was holding escaped his throat. He nodded slowly and looked at her. The piercing blue depths of her eyes hadn't lost any of their power, even if her body had.

"I'm afraid so." He whispered, almost submissive to her.

"Then... thank you, Corey. He nearly made it."

"I know."

"Perhaps the two of you would let us in?" asked Picard, dropping back into his seat, his eyes never leaving her face. The joy he felt in his veins was palpable, but the worry remained.

Running a hand over his head, Zweller also took his seat.

"I was suspicious from the start. He was asking some very private questions about the nature of some things. I won't go into detail, but let's just say I didn't understand why he was asking in the first place. Soon I realized that he was trying to find our weakest point and was watching our rooms with hidden cameras. One day, I surprised him by lurking in the room the Doctor occupied in the palace. After he left, I quickly found the device he'd been hiding behind the wing chair and on the underside of a lamp. Apparently, I hadn't removed it at first to hide my discovery.

Clearing his throat, Riker's eyebrows rose in curiosity. "You left the equipment while it was still working?"

"I... I wanted to take my time to find out what he was really up to and who else was watching from behind the curtain, so to speak. And obviously some of the Council, including the Governor, were involved, at least they had seen some of the vids."

Picard and Crusher blushed at the same time. Although this brought some interesting colors back to her pale cheeks, the captain felt even more humiliated. Now some of those weird remarks suddenly made sense. All he could manage was a silent "Who?"

Now all eyes were back on the captain, watching him squirm in embarrassment. A part of Zweller knew he should be ashamed of himself for exposing his friends like that.

Picard would be horrified if he knew how much he had actually seen himself. Surely, the cams weren't supposed to catch these two high-ranking officers enjoying very intimate things. But he had to admit that he hadn't been forced to watch all the recordings, but had enjoyed them anyway. He couldn't deny that he was more than intrigued, and maybe a small part of him told him that at least a documented glimpse into Beverly's private life was the only thing he would ever get.

Remembering Picard's still unanswered question and pushing aside his stimulating memories, he grimaced.

"I never found the initial recipient, but I believe Faulkner wasn't acting alone at first. Jean-Luc, I'm sorry. I should have said something before I allowed your doctor to appear on screen... this way."

Swallowing a sour reply, but grateful for not mentioning his presence while Beverly tried in vain to hide a guilty smirk, Picard gritted his teeth. The images that were manifesting in his mind were not improving his composure. There was nothing to be embarrassed about, but the realization of what at least Zweller and some of the government must have seen unnerved him beyond belief.

"Faulkner? Kruškov's Minister of Economics?"

 "And brother-in-law. His sister, Kruškov's wife, died three years ago of the effects of mining."

The pieces suddenly fell into place.

"That's why he's... so intent on stopping the mining in the first place." Beverly hummed.

Without thinking, Picard took her frighteningly cold hand and leaned closer. "You spoke to him?"

That gentle but thoughtless act made her smile. Maybe he'd really come to terms with himself and his fear of being cornered.

"Faulkner and I were talking our first evening on Mercur." Tearing her eyes from their joined hands and then softly pulling hers away, Beverly looked around, stopping at Deanna.

"We seemed to have a good and quick connection about ethics and understanding the root of their problems. Faulkner made it clear that he chose to stop mining altogether. And I dare to admit that I quickly agreed with him."

Worf growled and slammed his fist down on the table.

"Doctor, he almost killed you."

Sighing in defeat, Beverly nodded. "Perhaps he saw no other way out, Commander. Apparently, we never really talked about that option. Imagine if Earth had never stopped producing plastic and contaminating the entire planet with it? Humanity would have been screwed, drowning in its own fucking garbage."

"Beverly, I don't think that's appropriate..." Picard interrupted with a calm voice.

"Of course it is!" she replied excitedly. "None of us would be sitting at this damn table debating if our races hadn't been open to new possibilities and hard changes. And we'll still be here debating twenty years from now if these people and their Council are not willing to accept some changes that will obviously be painful."

Zweller tried hard to hide his smile, slowly realizing that this was the next very interesting part of her famous temper and Jean-Luc had not told him about it. It seemed that his friend didn't have much to counter her quick tongue either, preferring to sweep it under the proverbial carpet. "Any suggestions, Doctor?" he offered calmly, knitting his brows.

"Imagine if the Klingons hadn't stopped impaling their enemies and drinking their blood..." her eyes were on fire while her mouth couldn't stop expressing her thoughts.

"You're rambling, Doctor." Worf growled, shifting in his chair. He seemed less offended than Zweller thought appropriate.

Leaning back slowly, Beverly took a deep breath. When she looked discreetly at Jean-Luc and saw his jaw muscles working, she knew instantly that he was on her side, but wasn't officially allowed to be. A short pause turned into an uncomfortable silence. She didn't dare argue with him about the Prime Directive - so practical when needed. And he was still angry about the attempt on her life. Perhaps this was the wrong time and place to discuss an intervention in the ancient traditions and way of life of these Mercurians. But then again, maybe this was just the time to do it.

"'Blackmailing'."

Suddenly, all eyes were on Lt Cmdr Data. His head wobbled in tiny movements, showing he was calculating some information, and finally tilted.

"Doctor, you said the vaccine was completely finished, tested and ready?"

Her eyes instantly lit up as she comprehended his intentions. "Oh, I see! Three days ago, Mr. Data. Selar finished our work the morning after the labs were destroyed. My presence was not required anymore." Searching her mind to fill Data with more facts, she continued. "But it's a combination of some kind. A treatment for those already suffering from the bacteriophages plus a preventative vaccine for all Mercurians from birth."

Ha! That was getting along with the godforsaken directive, she thought, thanking Data's clever mind. Riker got the hint too - fully aware of Picard's scrutinizing look. Obviously, he wasn't too happy that his staff was discussing the official blackmail of another race to get the intended goal. But he remained silent, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Mr. Data, you are officially brilliant." Riker stated, the corners of his mouth twitching.

Picard searched Crusher's face, studying her anxious eyes intently. He knew they were right, and perhaps this was the only way. They could give in to Kruškov and provide him with all the help they had, supporting the ongoing toxic mining and consequently the Romulans, or they could simply leave him to his own devices. Both options made no sense to him. And Starfleet wasn't going to refuse help. Admittedly, he liked Data's idea of blackmailing the Council.

He straightened his back and cleared his throat.

"All right, assuming we do exactly that..." Gazing at everyone at the table and recognizing their affirmative looks, he simply nodded without going any further.

"Obviously, we are all of the same sentiment. Mr. Data and Mr. LaForge, please prepare the upcoming mission. Include Doctor Selar and Lt. Ogawa, they will organize the distribution of the medicine later, provided we are successful with the Mercurian Council. Cortin, you'll accompany me additional to Lt Cmdr Worf, just in case. Number One, you have the bridge.”

Observing his officers, he finally exhaled. "Thank you all. Dismissed." And rose from his seat, abruptly ending the meeting.

"Captain?" Beverly held her breath, waiting for his order.

Turning, his gaze settled back on her strained features. "Doctor, you have ordered rest. Your work here is done." His voice was even but firm. Biting her lip, she fought the immediate urge to scream in disgust. With everyone already getting up and leaving for the mission, the ugly feeling of rejection roared through her mind and heart.

"Jean-Luc, I..."

He raised his hand and stepped closer, waiting patiently for the doors to close after the last officer had left. Exhaling softly, he grabbed her hand again and pulled her out of the seat. "Beverly, by all means. You've done enough. You need some rest. Please?"

Her temper flared. Torn between her usual emotional way of discussing her mind every time he wasn't d'accord with her and simply capitulating to his wish because he had asked her to. Very nicely - this time. Maybe she couldn't go on trying to have it her way if they really, sincerely wanted to make this work. At least he hadn't asked her to jump off a bridge. Still, she was angry. Even if loving sometimes meant submitting.

Sensing her racing heart slowing down with the sudden realization that he was simply right, whether she liked it or not, Beverly closed her eyes and forced her anger down. Yielding had never been easy for her. Fact or not. But when she looked into his warm grey eyes, full of love and so much more, the last remnants of anger quickly vanished and turned into something else. Her throat suddenly became too dry and she quickly decided to lighten the mood. "I'm sorry. Just too little sleep lately, I'm still wondering why."

The comment that fell from her tongue, a simple attempt to apologize, instantly reddened his cheeks and made him growl, deep and low. She still couldn't believe she'd had that effect on him. God, he was so worth trying. So worth every argument, every new challenge they were sure to have and every wry look they would earn. She had forgotten what she had been so afraid of all these years. Losing her friendship was a good price to pay if it meant being in love with this man. Unable to hide an inappropriate dirty smirk, she quickly decided to plant a kiss on his inviting lips. "You know how to entertain me, Captain." She managed, remaining face to face with him.

The wrinkles on his forehead softened, delighted surprise tugging at the corners of his mouth and reflecting in his eyes. Feeling the hard knot loosen deep in his gut as he gently pulled her hips even closer to his own, Picard finally gathered her into his arms. "Wench." He whispered, a smile eventually crossing his already relaxed features. "You do realize you scared me to death?"

"Again, I'm sorry." Beverly breathed, burying her face in his warm neck and inhaling his scent.

"When Faulkner showed up on my doorstep, I should have known something was wrong." Thinking about it, she let the silence linger a moment longer. "I still don't think he's a bad guy. A lot of things happened down there, war and death changed him and a lot of others."

Humming slightly, she drew Picard closer. "My own experience should have warned me soon enough." She was surprised to hear him suddenly chuckle from deep inside. Looking up, she saw him smile. "Thankfully, Cherie..." Picard whispered. "You're as human as I am."

Chapter Text

"They're leaving orbit, sir."

As the impressive D'Deridex-class warbird slowly turned and prepared to go into warp, Picard tugged at his uniform tunic.

The engines of the green mass flickered and sped up, then disappeared in the darkness like a bolt of lightning. Silence surrounded him, only the hum of his ship's engines echoing through the bridge and vibrating beneath his feet. It was done. The Romulans' departure was confirmed, Kruškov had kept the promise he had made only a few hours before. Faulkner had been arrested. Rubbing his eyes, he turned, torn from his thoughts, as the turbolift doors opened.

"Counselor." He said matter-of-factly, watching her graciously stride down the ramp. "Taking the night shift?"

She stopped in front of him and looked up. "Call it practice. And maybe some distraction, it's been a tough week." Her dark eyes flashed sympathetically as she tilted her head. "Right?"

Picard simply had to nod, unable to think clearly. "You looked after her when we were down?" His voice was low, emphasizing his point and his concern that Beverly would not obey his order. Troi, sensing his anguish, smiled. 

"I made sure she checked into sickbay four hours ago. Selar ran some final tests and sent her home to get some sleep. The poison is out of her system, but she will need some time to recover. Everything should be fine, Captain."

"Thank you." He breathed, trying to ignore her imploring eyes.

"Maybe you should try that, too? Sleep and... recover, I mean? We'll set up a senior staff meeting tomorrow morning at ten?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded again. "Yes, I'd appreciate that." Gently he touched her arm. "Don't call me if anything unusual happens down there." And turned to leave.

As he strolled up the ramp and into the lift, he watched her wave to him. Her smile spoke volumes, and when she winked at him, he felt his cheeks blush. Would she ever stop doing that to him? More than grateful when the doors finally closed, he exhaled deeply, letting the anxiously held air leave his lungs. "Deck 9."

The turbolift began to move and he dropped his head, closing his tired eyes for a moment. Maybe he should make sure that Beverly took her rest as ordered. Knowing her for so long, he felt the urge to do just that. She always had a tendency to exaggerate and push herself to the limit. But so did he. And he was damn tired. The last few nights had drained him. He had been lying alone in bed, worrying about the latest events and her well-being. Groaning loudly, he shook his head.

"For God's sake, Jean-Luc, you certainly can survive another night alone. You've been doing it for decades." He scolded himself, rolling his eyes at his almost ridiculous behavior, seeking excuses for visiting her quarters. Beverly needed to rest and so did he. With a deep sigh, he watched the doors open. Breakfast. Coffee and croissants. He smiled, thinking of the usual morning routine with her, which would be quite different now. Stepping into his rooms, he quickly took off his uniform jacket and threw it over the back of an armchair.

"Computer, reduce lights to twenty percent." He reached for a bottle of real brandy and poured a finger's width into a simple glass standing nearby. Pausing just in front of the window, he looked out at the orange-brown marbled planet rotating slowly and so peacefully beneath his ship.

"To our agreement, Governor Kruškov." He breathed, then finally downed the cool liquid in one gulp.  "And cheers to the brilliant woman who at least made it possible." Grimacing slightly, he set the empty glass down. "Merde, but apparently I'm not as mature as I thought." The urge for her felt overwhelming, tore mercilessly at his heart. He ran a shaking hand over his pate and stared at his own reflection.

"Mince!" He cursed. "Stop being silly, Jean-Luc. You're so old and you still can't get a grip on yourself when it comes to Beverly. You should do better than that. She did need some sleep. And so did he, he repeated like a mantra.

"Ohhhh, to hell with it..." Rational reasoning had rarely gotten them any further in the recent years. If anything, it had cost them the happiness they both deserved. Beyond their sorrows and regrets, beyond all these responsibilities and beyond their duties.

Squaring his shoulders, he turned to leave - his way a mission. As he strode quickly towards the doors, he at least thought about his attire and went back in search of his jacket. He stopped dead in his tracks, his hand already stretched toward his garment. Gently touching the soft gray fabric that lay just underneath, a goofy, not very Captain-like grin promptly washed over his face. His head rose towards the doors of his sleeping area, blinking. No, she didn't. Did she?

With a trembling groan, he let go of the gray jumper and got moving. The instant joy he felt flooding his veins, spread through his system like a wave. Even before he reached the door, he was out of uniform. "Computer, lights out."

***

Darkness settled behind while he stepped cautiously into his bedroom.

It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the scene, lit only by the stars and the orange blur of Mercur, barely visible through the slanted windows above the bed. Wetting his lip with the tip of his tongue, Picard recognized her still form beneath the thin blankets. She was lying on her side, clutching his pillow under her head, her back to him, breathing evenly. She had fallen asleep. Barefooted, he circled the bed, gently lifting the covers and slipped underneath, immersing himself in the radiant warmth of her body and coming face to face with Beverly Crusher. He just couldn't help himself. Feeling the deliberate urge to touch her, his fingertips already trailed down her cheek, carefully curving around her ear and finally brushing across her velvety lips as soft as a feather. 

He felt hypnotized by the simple fact that he could finally study her features as long and as intensely as he wished. There was no reason for shame or guilt anymore, as it had accompanied every damn reckless look before. It had happened from time to time when he lost his neat, well-trained composure in weak moments. Especially when he thought no one, not even Beverly, would notice. He remembered the one night when Jack had caught him staring at her. She had cradled a newborn Wesley in her arms and sung a soft lullaby for him. He would never forget the ultimate beauty of that one moment, Beverly holding her son, still exhausted from giving birth, but more stunning than ever. He still didn't know what Jack had been feeling when he caught his friend’s hungry gaze, obviously straightly directed at his wife and new born son. Maybe this was the day he'd fallen irrevocably in love with her. Sure, he'd fallen in love a long time before that day. But this was special in a distinct sick way. He'd suddenly recognized that he would never have this pure perfection in his life, since she was the only one who'd ever be eligible for him. And she had been, matter of fact, hopelessly, head over heels in love and married to his best friend. The sting in his heart was still present. He had been crazy, downright painfully in love with her then, and he still loved her more than words could ever say, today. If possible, even more. The guilt had diminished over the years, he thought, replaced by his fear that she would never return his feelings, and if she did, the panic of losing her under his command and the worry that their duty soon would get in the way. He could not deny that the fear had not completely disappeared, but it had somehow slipped behind all these things he felt strong enough to handle. Deeply felt love, along with a cherished friendship, profound respect for each other, and mind-blowing, body-shaking desire. Picard felt all these emotions creep through his skin, along with the content, hot shiver of sheer happiness pushing him forward.

“What’s so funny?”

His heart skipped a beat and he paused caressing her face, becoming aware of his own silly grin.

"I didn't mean to wake you." Picard whispered apologetically, his cheeks growing flushed.

"You didn't." Beverly managed quietly, opening her eyes and studying him intently. Her usually bright blue orbs were deep black in the darkness, glittering at him with curiosity. "I'm sorry for invading your bed Jean-Luc, I hope you don't mind. These last few nights have been awful."

His fingertips resumed their path across her skin, his thumb brushing across her jaw. He finally exhaled, the previous smile spreading further on his lips. "Feel free to invade as much as you like. You're always welcome, Cherie." He could hear her snicker and his smile expanded into a radiant grin. Pulling her closer with the hand that cradled her head, he brushed his lips against hers. "My bed and me are all yours."

Humming in agreement, Beverly slid a long, slender leg over his hip, gracefully closing the distance between their lower bodies as well. "I have to admit, I was really hoping you'd say that."

"You did?" Picard chuckled, gently reaching under the blanket to grab her waist, spotting her state of undress. "Oh." Despite his surprise, his hand bravely closed around her naked hip.

"Complaining?" Beverly asked, raising a delicate eyebrow at him. Her hands slid up to lay flat on his chest, where she could feel his hair and muscles tremble with excitement under the fabric of his shirt.

Without further ado he kissed her again, this time with the intensity his body craved, and let his searching tongue slip into her inviting mouth, his restrained tension finally dissipating. "I wouldn't dare." He growled softly, catching his breath and fighting helplessly against his primal instincts attempting fiercely to take over. Glued to her intoxicating scent, he moved closer, slowly nuzzling her throat, leaving a wet trail as he kissed and licked down her exquisite neck. "I can't tell you how much I've missed you." He whispered between his efforts, his hands wandering up to draw small sensual circles over her bare skin. Her whole body shivered under his touch, aching for physical contact, no matter how small.

"Did... oh my God... everything..." Panting slightly, she tried to gather her thoughts to form a coherent question. "Went as...mhhhh.... planned?"

Undeterred, his left hand cupped her breast, gently massaging the pulsing flesh. Unfortunately, not a single cell in his body was left for a straight, reasonable conversation. The sensation of her hardening buds pressing against his palm in need of more attention erased every clear thought he'd ever had. With a dismissive grunt, Picard bit down on her neck, letting her skin slip gently through his teeth and squeezed her breast with more force. They could talk later, his body stubbornly insisted, and he all too gladly obeyed.

The moment he felt her shift and push him backwards, he caught his breath. Beverly had simply trapped him in one sudden move and now held him down with her own body on top of his, grabbing his hands and pinning them to either side of his head. She met his perplexed gaze with a wicked smile. The way Beverly slowly, almost subtly, moved her pelvis against his groin at the same time didn't help him get any clearer. His brow furrowed, Jean-Luc tried hard to concentrate. Licking his lips, he watched her smile turn into a challenge as she straightened her back and rose to a sitting position above him. Wailing in sweet delight, he couldn't stop his hungry body from thrusting upward against her enchanting heat. In the heat of the moment, he became embarrassingly aware of how easily her exciting nature was able to manipulate his whole system.
"Beverly." He warned, his voice sounding more like a growl, unsure if he could withstand much longer without getting ruthless. Breaking his hands from her grip, he grimaced slightly. Picard let the air fall raggedly from his mouth and swiftly grabbed her hips again, mentally praising himself for this brilliant move. Now he finally had a proper view. Watching her run a hand through her illustrious hair as it fell over her bare shoulders, roaming the beauty of her intriguing breasts which towered gloriously over her flat stomach, his eyes were soon drawn to her tantalizing lower half, where her copper curls displayed an intriguing contrast to his black, already constricting boxers. Perhaps he had been mistaken in thinking he could regain control in this fatal position. "Yes, Jean-Luc." Beverly purred, further provoking the dwindling limits of his self-control. 

"This is bloody heartless." He stammered defensively, already succumbing to her more than convincing merits. Her searching hands strolled over his muscled abdomen, pushing his shirt up.

"Oh, I'm still listening." He heard her say almost casually.

Gathering the remnants of his sanity, he swallowed any nonsense comment and opted for the chance to have it his way if he did as he was told. "Kruškov was very reasonable after he was presented with our simple... request."

A smile played across Beverly's lips, her eyes flickering with pleasure. "So, I take it, he… gladly accepted?"

Suddenly daring to be bold, Picard caught her hand. Gently, he trapped it against his chest and pulled her closer. "They will stop mining until every Mercurian is cured and immune to the effects. In return, the Council has agreed to reduce all mining operations in the long term. Starfleet will monitor and observe compliance. Perhaps there will be some unforeseen new opportunity to treat other commodities someday.” He paused for a moment, watching her eyes sparkle. There was still one issue they had both avoided discussing with the senior staff. "In addition, I was fortunate enough to persuade him to hand over those named recordings."

Beverly bent closer and quickly kissed his lips. "I appreciate that, very much." She murmured softly and kissed him again. But this time considerably longer, just until they were both out of breath. Beverly couldn't believe they had done that together and sent the Prime Directive to hell for once. "And… Headquarters also happily approved of your deal?"

He grabbed her head and forced her down, lovingly capturing her lips. "Ohhh, but they have to. I don't think they'd appreciate losing the Captain and CMO of their famed flagship, would they?"

Jean-Luc felt her chuckle, her deliberate vibrations running through his body like a fever. "You really love to blackmail lately, don't you?" she said.

Releasing her hands, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head in one fluid motion, pushing himself further up as he took her with him until he was sitting almost upright, finally leaning against the headboard of the bed. Tossing the unnecessary garment aside, he pulled her close again, cupping her chin. Gently caressing her sides, he smiled. "Oh, I guess, first and foremost, I love you my dear doctor."

As his warm gray eyes fixed hers in an almost terrifying way, she felt her heart crumble under the weight of the emotions that ran mayhem through her sensitive soul. How she could have ever doubted his motives and feelings was beyond her. Since the day she had first met him, Beverly had sensed the powerful attraction that tied them together with a bond of unseen desire, love, and understanding. Until the night, when he'd dared to kiss her in his full panic mode just a few days ago, she'd never expected him to truly act on his feelings. Squeezing his upper arms, she bowed silently. "Thank you."

He felt light, his fingertips trailing tenderly down her shoulder, running gently across her collarbone to her breasts again. He couldn't hide his excitement at having the time to get to know every beautiful inch of her body. No rush, no Starfleet, no security guards. Just Beverly and him, in his quarters, in his bed.  "Let me..." he whispered, gently pulling her up a bit to free himself underneath her. Finally, he was able to get rid of those damn constricting boxers. Pushing them down the rest of the way with his feet, he feverishly cupped her face again and kissed her deeply. Nibbling on her lower lip, he pulled her closer, her hair falling softly down, roaming his face and tickling his sensitive scalp. His left hand traveled down, his fingers running over her curls, while his right brushed over her hard peaks, causing her to gasp sharply. Replacing his hand with his tongue, he devoured her rosy bud, circling and sucking with determined dedication. Shifting his attention to the left, his right hand returned, eliciting the sweetest sounds from her lips. As his thick fingers gently entered her welcoming hot folds, a humble moan escaped his mouth.

Beverly could feel his throbbing need pulsing hot but trapped beneath her thigh, while he obviously felt the urge to attend only to her distinct needs. Rising slightly and smiling sweetly, she positioned herself on top of him, her knees framing his sides. She took hold of his achingly hard member, caressing his length in a way that would surely end this game for him sooner than she was even aware. Gently, he stopped her 'treatment' and guided himself to her entry, his warm eyes fixed on her sapphire ones. Softly kissing the tip of his nose, Beverly sank deeper, taking him in all the way down, quickly adjusting to his size. Moaning in unison, they shared a knowing smile, followed by another devoted kiss. He would never get enough of the feeling of being so complete. Grunting with growing anticipation, one devoted hand slid across her hip, squeezing her rear, while his other drifted back to its previous destination on autopilot. Relaxing slightly against the headboard, he leaned back, gaining better access to her most sensitive spot with his thumb, deliberately drawing circles around the throbbing bundle of nerve endings. Almost simultaneously, Beverly began to move, propping herself up on his shoulders. Closing her eyes, savoring the feel of him pulsing inside her, her head thrown back in trance, feeling the first effects gripping her muscles, she finally let go. Setting the pace, her body aching for final fulfillment, she feared getting too close too soon. Her nails dug deep into his shoulders, ragged breaths leaving both throats when they began to speed up. She reopened her eyes and searched his, clouded with fierce desire and unwavering love as he pushed himself deeper into her already dripping depths in a powerful, all-consuming rhythm. She hugged him tighter, her pelvis rocking vehemently in increasing circles against his groin.

"God, Jean-Luc." She gasped, feeling him abruptly tense as her inner muscles gripped him with the same sudden force, her climax rushing through every bloody cell of her being. He pressed his burning face between her swaying breasts, his whole body shaking and trembling with the release, emptying himself like a volcano into her vibrating womb. Pulling her hips fiercely against his as little stars invaded his hooded, half-closed eyes, he let her guide him through the final, equally satisfying waves of all-consuming pleasure. 

Her chin dropped to his head, her arms clutching him tightly while she felt the tremors slowly subside.

“That was… incredible.” She heard him whisper roughly against her skin, sending new shivers down her spine while he started caressing her sides in long, elegant strokes.

"As you are." She replied, still struggling for air and stifling a chuckle. "And a little hasty… I'm… sorry Jean-Luc." Tilting back and searching his eyes again, she saw him smile.

"You were in a hurry, weren't you?" he hummed.

She did love the way his baritone crept through her system, especially while they were still connected. Quickly feigning an innocent yawn, she felt her cheeks flush. Brushing a few strands out of her face, Beverly tilted her head, watching him closely, weighing his intentions. A few seconds passed, both of them studying each other with sparkling eyes and not even flinching. Jean-Luc could feel Beverly loosening their tiny battle for gaining the upper hand, as he felt her body vibrate with barely suppressed hiccups. She was breathtakingly perfect. In every fiber of her being. Gently cupping her chin, his delighted grin widened even more. When he finally planted a wet kiss on her lips, he chuckled with complete abandon.   

Swallowing a tart retort, Beverly hummed softly instead and met his amused eyes. "Maybe I'll be more patient next time." She managed quietly, no more than a whisper, trying to relax as he unhurriedly slipped out of her and gently offered the place under the covers next to him. Sliding down, she draping an arm around his waist and rested her head on his chest. Kissing the top of her hair, Picard closed his eyes and muttered a silent "I bet you will," which earned him a tired but tender tap on his shoulder.

"You better get some rest, Mister. I tend to be ready for another session soon." Glancing at him secretly, she saw his eyebrows rise in satisfaction along with a grateful smile. Feeling his heartbeat pick up anxious speed beneath her head, she grinned. "And in case I forgot to mention... I do love you too, Jean-Luc Picard."

Chapter Text

Staring intently at the bright stars passing by, his hand was already cramping as he held his ice-cold drink. Clockwise swirling it slightly, he shook his head at his own fate, his gaze drifting back to the two women sitting just a few meters away, chatting excitedly over a wonderful dinner for two.

Her illustrious red hair and blue lab coat were directed away from him, and she wasn't even aware that Zweller was observing her the way he did. Her dark-haired, shorter friend however, shot him a questioning look from time to time. Being the unnerving Betazoid that she was, she had to sense his uneasiness and mixed chaotic emotions. He didn't even trust himself after this strange episode.

Sipping some of the well-seasoned whiskey Guinan had brought from Picard's private stock, he finally got up. Daria would be waiting for him, as she always did. No matter how many times he'd cheated on her, she'd always taken him back. Sure, she had some other qualities than Johnny's lovely doctor, but self-confidence and pride certainly weren't among them. But then, she still was a good one. And at least pretty and smart. Nonetheless definitely out of league when he dared to compare his boring wife to the fascinating redhead sitting so close.

They would soon approach Earth and his time was running out. So far, he had managed to avoid sending a message to his contact. HQ had already received all the reports about their mission on Mercur VI, no doubt consciously compiled by their fine captain and his glorious, fracking crew. Snarling a little too loud, he caught Troi's dark eyes watching him attentively again. Her nosy nature was starting to turn nasty, and this very fast. Her innocent features quickly diverted all attention from her probing, piercing mind. Cortin was more than happy that she hadn't accompanied Picard down to Mercur too often. Admittedly, he was also too busy dealing with his emotional turmoil and his unwanted desires for the hot doctor to really comprehend what had been going on behind the scenes. And maybe he even didn’t care for their global doom. But this little empath surely would have quickly become a danger to his manipulations. To make matters worse, she also seemed to be a close friend to Crusher.

Grabbing the data PADD he'd brought to Ten Forward to finish his report, he started to move. As he walked past the table occupied by the two senior officers, he didn't even notice Beverly's pensive look.

"Doctor, Counselor," he greeted casually, stopping just in front of them. Silently, though respectfully, the Crusher nodded, intentionally side-stepping his hopeful gaze. He could feel the hidden skepticism emanating from every cell of her tempting body. He cursed his inner, still unquenched but all the more evident physical desire to have her here and now. Pressing his lips together and biting his tongue, he succeeded in soothing his burning greed only slightly. Corey lastly nodded back, just as politely, turned and left Ten Forward in long, self-confident strides. Whatever was in store for him in the near future, he would still have all of those copies of those splendid, promising secret recordings.

***

Opening a safe transmission channel as he watched the Starfleet Insignia disappear, Zweller leaned back in the large chair behind the desk in his quarters, first lifting and then dropping his feet on the surface of the heavy furniture. This was not going to be an easy conversation. He knew how demanding and unyielding his direct superior was. So, he tried to make himself more comfortable by sliding deeper into his chair.

As expected, the face that suddenly appeared on the screen, was not all that happy.

"Finally!" The mentioned woman, slightly younger than him, barked and threw her hands up in anger. "You were supposed to report days ago, Commander. I got a message from headquarters on Sunday. Where have you been?"

Clearing his throat, he forced a smile. "Vice Admiral. Good to see you too."

His opponent snarled dismissively. "Stop chattering, Commander Zweller. Your status report."

Fine. She was already pissed off, he would not change that anyway. He scanned the features of the brunette with the dark emerald eyes, keeping a straight face and concentrating on the matter at hand. "Vice Admiral, I'm sorry, but as I'm sure you've heard, some things didn't go as planned." Ignoring her darkening face, he simply went on.

"Unfortunately, Dr. Crusher was able to develop the vaccine that your specialists totally agreed would be impossible. All this despite the sudden destruction of her works and although she was distracted fooling around with our wonderful Captain here. I won't say that I officially take responsibility for this attack on her research, but if you were to ask me directly, there was no way out at that point. After all, it didn't change the situation on the planet. In fact, the governor blamed her alone and had her arrested right after. Even though she was on the other side of town at the time of the mysterious assault, just getting laid by our quite boisterous captain.”

Visibly shocked not only by his choice of words, the Vice Admiral's eyes flickered, deceptively revealing a new side of her fierce character. "Oh, what a shame. Jean-Luc must have been devastated to lose his little toy," she replied acidly.

Sorting his back-up story but silently wondering if the Admiral had some private business with Picard or Crusher he didn't care for, he continued with his thoroughly prepared, perhaps slightly exaggerated portrait of the late events. "After rigorously monitoring the private rooms, we were assigned to from the beginning, I was able to secure some very interesting recordings."

Her left eyebrow rose exorbitantly as she leaned closer to the screen. "Such as?"

Feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment, he quickly tried to avert her anxious gaze.

"Some... very private incidents involving Picard and his obstinate CMO. I decided to share them with the Governor and his closest ministers to undermine the negotiation process and Picard's neutral position in it. And possibly damage the doctor's flawless reputation. To remove her disturbing and rather insatiable inquisitiveness from the game. At first, Kruškov seemed to act as predicted, but nothing happened except for a few really tasteless jokes at the Doctor's expense. I'm beginning to think that the governor only imprisoned her for his own benefit. At least to calm the rumors and get the captain under his control. He didn't seem too impressed by the recordings themselves." The idea of claiming the monitoring of the rooms for himself had only arisen a few minutes ago. 

Dropping her head, the Admiral began to reflect on it too vocally - too hastily. "I would pay a lot of latinum to see them on the proverbial tape."

Repulsion written all over his face, he looked up to see her smirking creepily and licking her lower lip in deep thought. "That ever so composed, stiff as a poker, totally unrelaxed captain and his hot-blooded, sharp-tongued romp, always up for a surprise of their own. I didn't believe the rumors were true. I didn't even think the man would ever have anything... similar to a long-termed… affair.

Coughing politely, Zweller forced a smile. "Admiral. I can assure you he does. Maybe I just wouldn't characterize it that way."

She rolled her eyes at him and puffed. "That little arrogant bastard. Never thought he had it in him."

Zweller could not deny his impression of the Admiral having some private animosities or perhaps even own disturbing memories of Picard. Her acid tone also implied that she had not yet gotten over it, whatever it was.

"Ah, you do know him? Personally, I mean?"

That brought her back to reality. She squared her slim shoulders and narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "I don't know what business it is of yours," she finally barked, more than just offended, and sharply cut off the direction their conversation began to lead. Well, obviously he had hit a point. Smiling inwardly at the simplicity of reading her face, he relaxed. Perhaps there was more to it, and his mind already began to track new possibilities. "Johnny dumped you once, didn't he?"

It took all of her self-control not to spit her coffee straight at the screen. Breathing hard, almost choking, she slammed her cup down on the table, spilling the better part of it. "Still, it’s none of your damn business, Commander." Staring him down, she froze, her face a petrified mask. Seconds passed before she regained her composure and was able to speak evenly again. When she did, her voice was hoarse and icy. "Mercur VI, Zweller. What happened?"

He would save this knowledge for later. Maybe he would need this interesting side information very soon. Clearing his throat, he nodded, ready to resume his report.

"After Dr. Crusher was imprisoned, the Mercurian traitor soon revealed himself. I had suspected for some time that he was the one playing a double game. The main actors in the government were only pursuing their own benefits, but he always insisted on finding a final solution to their initial problems. But how deep his aggression ran, I only realized when I caught him trying to murder the Doctor.”

He closed his eyes and intertwined his fingers, remembering the terrifying minutes after he had discovered her limp body on the floor, shortly after witnessing Faulkner secretly leaving her newly assigned "guest room" by accident.

Seeing the Commander shake under the memories that violently flooded back to him, she felt the urge to say something constructive. "That bad? Dr. Crusher is not as fragile as I remember and being a commander, she could have handled that untrained, doddery man easily. Adding to that, her security level is higher than any of ours will ever be if I recall correctly."

That took him by surprise. "Is it? She is fit, yes, very visibly so. I can tell." That offhand remark earned him another sharp look, he really didn't appreciate. But he resumed his explanation nevertheless. "This devastating, almost fatal result can only be caused by the fact that Faulkner caught her completely off guard. I can't imagine she wouldn't have fought like a harpy had she been aware that he intended to harm her." Again, he felt her scrutinizing emerald eyes on him.

"This doctor obviously has a captivating effect on men," the Vice-Admiral said flatly. "Apparently and sadly, you seem to be no exception. I do wonder what your wife has to say about that."

Groaning desperately, he shook his head, knowing full well that Daria would never voice her concerns. She wouldn't dare. Scratching his chin, he tilted his head, smiling faintly. "Regardless of your private hostility towards Dr. Crusher, she was able to accomplish the vaccine just in time, in contrast to your highly praised scientists in Section 31. And regardless of what may have happened between you and Jean-Luc Picard in the past..." his eyes twinkled with rare emotions. "He designed and sealed the treaty with the Mercurian government on the long run. And all this even though, or perhaps just because, Kruškov has held captive the one woman he apparently loves more than his career and ship."

With a snide whistle through her picture-perfect teeth, the Admiral laughed. "Oh Goodness, love. Please. What a foolish piece of shit."

The subtle feeling that she wasn't telling him the whole truth about her plans bothered him more with each passing minute. Deciding to get things straight, he placed his hands flat on the desk and squared his serious eyes. "One thing, Admiral. Forgive me, but I want to make sure I don't get caught up in some personal vendetta. If you have something to say to Jean-Luc, then tell him yourself, if you dare. But leave me out of this. I have burnt my fingers trying to influence his motivations and actions in those recent days. Not to mention the irreparable damage I have already done to our friendship. Now, if you'll excuse me. Give my regards to your husband." He swiftly hit the disconnect button, not even bothering to give her the chance to respond. 'That bitter, unsatisfied old crow' cursed through his mind.

He had never considered to be ordered on a pointless mission because of some silly wounded lover's pride or similar stupid reasons. The impertinence of this Vice Admiral was proof enough that his department didn't always act with sense and reason. The attempt to force Mercur into permanent dependence still turned his gut. But then it had been his job. Possibly Picard might understand his actions one day. Funny that after all his efforts to create a maximum of chaos, he had managed to unite the two probably most pig-headed and independent people in Starfleet. Maybe not on full purpose, but fortunately anyway. Even if it meant that his own opportunities for seeking satisfying distraction had been reduced to zero. At least his sacrifice would spare him any more late-night subspace calls from an old friend who would have remained unhappily head-over-heels in love if he hadn't helped so selflessly.

=/\=

Turning back to the main screen, a subtle smile crept across Picard's otherwise stern face. The warm feeling slowly flooded his body as he felt Trois' and Riker's imploring eyes on his back.

Everything was really all right. "Cmdr Data, set course for Sector 001, destination Earth."

"Aye, sir. Course set."

His heart drummed with a rampant fire he hadn't known a few days before, vibrating in unison with a profound excitement and contentment. Still, he could taste her porcelain skin, smell her tantalizing scent, and feel the rhythm of her perfect body moving next to his.

Blushing slightly, he cleared his throat, trying to regain some of his lost composure. They were one. Finally. After all they'd been through, now everything was falling into place, settling into a finished puzzle of pieces that had been strewn over years of denial and fear. Now, they had been assembled and melted.

Coming home to Earth, to the things he wanted to share and offer, would at least frame the new picture. He knew his purpose and felt strengthened just thinking about it. This would change his life completely. Change into something he'd never dared to hope for. His heart pounding with anticipation, he grinned and released a soft breath in Data's direction.

"Make it so."

When the doors of the turbolift opened, he turned only slightly. His eyes thoughtfully trailed after his friend Zweller, which strolled down the ramp, a nonchalant smile on his face, and finally took a seat next to Troi. Returning his eyes to the main screen, Picard felt himself relax again. "Estimated time of arrival, Mr. Data." He asked casually.

"Three weeks, one day and 37 hours at current speed, sir." Three more weeks.

"Have you finished your report, Commander?" Picard said without looking at the man behind his back, sitting next to Troi.

A few seconds passed before he heard him speak. "Yes, thank you Captain." Zweller hummed. "And I may send my regards from Vice Admiral Louvois. She can't wait to meet you at Headquarters."

Picard suddenly felt his neck freeze and a cold, unpleasant shiver run down his spine. Philippa. The unbidden memories returned on autopilot. Grabbing Data's backrest for support he blinked several times to sooth his sudden anxiousness. Get a grip on yourself, he reprimanded himself, trying to calm his nerves. Forcing a self-confident smile, he slowly turned around, leaving the Ops behind him and stepped towards the seating area.

"Vice-Admiral Philippa Louvois" he echoed, searching Zweller's straight face, which obviously hid a grin too amused for his personal taste. His friend merely nodded.

"She didn't happen to mention whether she was bringing her husband with her or not, did she?"

As he finally settled into his captain's chair, his gaze fixed on the main screen while Troi and Riker exchanged irritated glances, he suddenly heard Cortin's deep, rich laugh. "I’m just kidding, Jean-Luc… just… kidding." 

FINIS

Chapter Text

"I told you, everything is fine, Jean-Luc." With a groan and a grimace, she fought the scrutinizing look of her subordinate, who continued to wave her tricorder over her body.

"Please lie down and hold still, Doctor." The Vulcan ordered firmly, her eyes scanning the readouts carefully as she grabbed her arm and pushed her down. 

"You almost fainted right in front of me, nothing's okay, Beverly." the captain scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched her collapse on the bio-bed. "Fine, have it your way." she mewled under her breath.

Picard stepped forward, paused at the bed and held her gaze. "This poisoning was only two weeks ago, there is the possibility of long-term effects," he pleaded, his voice strained with concern. Selar's Vulcan eyebrows rose - both at the same time. Picard watched her features move and looked back at Beverly. He had never witnessed such a massive face derailment on Selar before.

"Is everything all right?" he inquired, more to soothe himself and his blank nerves.

Typing some new commands into her device, the Vulcan heaved a sigh. "I can't find any remnants of that poison, Captain." His shoulders slumped in relief as he reached for Beverly's hand, which she gladly took.

"However..." Selar murmured, finally clearing her throat.

His eyes flew to hers, his chest tightening again. "However?"

Beverly fixed Selar's eyes tightly and knew immediately that her colleague would not continue without her official permission. She clearly had reservations about proceeding. Swallowing the uprising, unfamiliar feeling, Crusher sat up and grasped for the tricorder. Gladly handing it over out of the captain’s sight, Selar's eyebrows knitted in anxiety. The Vulcan felt him shift on his feet and restraining himself while Crusher quickly studied the readings.

“Oh.”

His heart stopped a beat. "What is the meaning of this, Beverly? Please talk to me!" He almost barked, slowly getting upset with her attitude. Selar tilted her head and exchanged a meaningful look with her superior, kindly patting her arm. Both nodded in silent agreement.

"I'll leave you two alone, Captain. Doctor." Picking up her remaining instruments, the Vulcan disappeared through the doors of the private examination room.

Clutching the tricorder to her chest, Beverly's head dropped. Her nerves and emotions raged. She'd never expected this. But she should have, as a doctor. But obviously her mind had been elsewhere, lately. She could feel Picard trying his best to hold back, but she could also see the storm brewing in his eyes.

Picard closed the distance and touched her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. "What?" He demanded. "What exactly is Dr. Selar's diagnosis?"

Beverly couldn't help but sense tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. She quickly smiled to cover her imminent nervousness.

"You know, you can tell me", he added again, trying to sound casual and lighten the mood.

"Jean-Luc, it's about something that didn't work out the way it was supposed to."

He felt his muscles tense. "And that would be?"

She put the device aside to buy some time and thought hard about telling him, especially how. He would be shocked anyway, maybe even horrified. Or run straight off.

"Jean-Luc, my contraceptive implant is malfunctioning. I don't know for how long, but apparently long enough."

Irritation washed over his face, stalling his movements. "Malfunctioning..." he echoed, instantly feeling his heart flutter as the realization eventually hit. "Oh..." His features went blank and her heart froze at the same time. A few seconds of silence followed, both looking at each other, afraid to say the wrong thing.

Picard felt everything, his senses flooded with an intensity he hadn't thought possible. Fatal fear, absolute pride, pure joy, a deep sorrow for the loss of time and so much love, it was hard to keep track of it all at the same time. He shuddered under the weight of the emotions coursing through his veins, recalling that she was here with him, just inches away, waiting for a sensible reaction. Almost choking on the words, recognizing the tears forming in her beautiful eyes, he pulled her close and kissed her trembling lips with all the love he felt to ease her raging heart. "You are... we are?" he checked again to make sure his assumptions were correct.

Beverly couldn't decipher his current expression, his warm gray eyes captivating hers with an intensity she feared would suffocate her. There was no hint of the horror or disgust she'd expected. Maybe something like fear, God yes, she was in a real overloaded panic herself, but beyond that there was only love and endless joy.

"Evidently and indisputable," she finally whispered, feeling her throat dry up with emotions. "I'm sorry."

His eyes narrowed in surprise. Why would she say such a thing? "Beverly." Encircling her face once more, Picard bent closer, their noses almost touching while their foreheads already did. "God, I love you," he whispered, his voice almost breaking. "This child will be as beautiful as his mother."

She couldn't conceal the gasp that fell from her mouth, silently accompanied by a painful sob that crushed her barriers like a horrendous storm surge. "If you're right, you're going to have your hands full with our wonderful temper." Beverly said, the weight slowly lifting from her shoulders, now realizing that he hadn't even thought about backing down for a second.

Kissing her again, this time much longer and with all the passion he felt, Jean-Luc finally smiled.

"I'm convinced I can manage. At least as long as my hair genes aren't involved his much.”