Chapter Five

Captain's Log, Stardate 44191.6: Now that some members of the crew and the visiting scientific team are cleared to leave the ship, I will be beaming down to Hasolon IV to join in the relief efforts. With the medical crisis on board resolving itself, in large part due to the extraordinary efforts of Chief Medical Officer Beverly Crusher, the Enterprise can at last resume its mission.

Data cocked his head, a gesture that invariably meant curiosity, and questions. "Captain, you would not have beamed to the surface if you were infected with the virus, and yet your physical condition appears less than ideal. To be specific, you appear pale, and your response time is slightly but perceptibly slower than usual."

"I didn't get enough sleep, Data. That's all." Jean-Luc had no intention of explaining why he'd lain awake all night. They walked side-by-side through the main corridor of the Hasolon Ministry of Science, which was functioning as headquarters for the relief efforts. "Progress report?"

"The simulations have been successful. We have managed to stabilize the most seismically active fault line on the northern continent, and now that the full scientific team has joined us on the surface, the full array of tectonic stabilizers can be deployed."

"Well done, Mr. Data." Jean-Luc reminded himself to put Data in for a commendation; sometimes he found himself taking the android's service for granted. But while some of Data's contributions were no more than his natural workings – his eidetic memory, cross-referencing ability, and such – others showed the spark of humanity within. His idea of serving as a virtual-reality link between the quarantined scientists and Hasolon IV had been inspired.

When Jean-Luc had taken his seismology and volcanology course at the Academy, he'd heard it said that fault lines created both great dangers and great scenery. Hasolon IV bore that out. Through the enormous transparent aluminum windows that lined this long corridor, he could see rugged mountains capped with snow, soft rolling hills and, in the distance, a rocky coastline that would look spectacular from sea. The world also possessed a temperate climate, verdant deciduous forests and a pleasingly lilac-blue sky. He had at first wondered why people had set out to colonize a world with such severe tectonic activity; now he knew.

Beverly should see this. We could take a brief walk along one of the coastal paths – Then Jean-Luc caught himself. The casual shore leave activities they'd shared in the past were, at the very least, on hold.

When he and Data entered the temporary command center, the relative darkness of the room made him squint for the moment until his eyes adjusted. Dozens of computer terminals filled the cavernous space, each of them glowing dull gold or green. Jean-Luc could make out a couple dozen Hasolonian colonists – distinctive, with their blue skin and ridged heads – as well as most of the Starfleet scientific team. At the very front of the room, silhouetted by the largest viewscreen, stood Commander T'Sara; the image behind her showed the plates of Hasolon IV's crust, with active fault lines outlined in orange. Although many lines remained at high alert, others had been downgraded already.

"I'd feel better if they stopped the plate movement entirely," groused one Hasolonian nearby. "No more shakes, ever."

It was intended as a joke, and after months of increasing seismological activity, these people certainly deserved a moment to laugh and relax. But the would-be scientist in Jean-Luc – the one who had been tempted by the Atlantic Project for reasons beyond his psychological need for escape – mentally corrected the man all the same. A certain amount of tectonic activity is necessary on any planet with a mantle. The heat and pressure within the planet can be relieved in no other way. We only strive to find the place between cataclysmic destruction and fatal stagnation. To move so far, so fast, and yet no more.

Besides, without earthquakes, we would never have mountains.

"Captain Picard?" Wesley Crusher came to Jean-Luc's side, a padd in hand. "Commander T'Sara had me put together this report. She thinks we can have Hasolon IV well within safety parameters within the next twenty to forty hours."

"Excellent news, Ensign." He studied the information on the padd, never once glancing up at Wesley's face. "You've done fine work here. Now that we have sufficient crew to relieve you, there's no reason for you not to return to the Enterprise."

"I – " Apparently Wesley couldn't find another word to follow it, until he finally, quietly said, "Yes, sir."

Jean-Luc did look up then. "You'll find there's little use in delaying the inevitable, Ensign Crusher. Suspense is no man's friend."

"Yes, sir."

With that, Jean-Luc went back to his scientific review. Wes needed to be treated like the young officer he was, at least by his captain. Mother and son could comfort one another – or, at least, he hoped they would. While he'd known at least some of how this would affect each of the Crushers individually, Jean-Luc could not imagine what it would mean between them. Fortunately, that matter was theirs to navigate; he could, and should, stand aside.

For a moment he found himself remembering the Jack Crusher he'd first met. Hardly more than a boy, really – five years older than Wesley was now? Six? They'd been friends for only a few days before Jean-Luc knew that this was someone who would be important in his life, someone he would move heaven and earth for.

Fifteen years after Jack's death, Jean-Luc had done his friend one final favor, the last there would ever be. Their friendship was complete.

Strange, that this should still feel like a loss.

Jean-Luc closed his eyes for a moment, took a breath, and got back to work.

None of the sex, all of the regret, Beverly thought as she made her way back to Sickbay that morning.

The dull headache she'd awakened with had been easily taken care of with napacin. The embarrassment she'd feel when she saw Jean-Luc again – well, that wouldn't be as simple to manage. Fortunately, duty promised to keep them apart for the day.

"We are down to only twenty percent incapacitation," Doctor Selar reported as Beverly checked the morning medical logs. "And the majority of those still affected now report milder symptoms. Only Lieutenant Juarez remains in Sickbay, primarily for fetal monitoring."

"Good." Her fingers paused over her padd. "Sun Nicole?"

"Was released to her mother's care at oh six hundred hours." Selar's face was as blank as an inactive holodeck. Everyone should get to recover from a breakdown in the company of Vulcans, Beverly decided, almost in earnest. Maybe I should ask about a sabbatical at the medical college in Shi'Kahr.

The holodeck doors slid open, and her gut tensed. Would they have a relapsed patient? A second wave of the crisis? But it was Wesley, weary and with an honest-to-god dusting of stubble on his cheeks.

"Wes? Are you all right?" When he nodded, she sighed in relief.

Though of course she knew he had not come here because he was sick.

They went into her office and sealed the door. Beverly ordered two cups of tea from the replicator, primarily so she didn't have to look Wesley in the face as she said, "I know Captain Picard talked to you."

"Yeah. He did."

There. Now that she didn't have to worry about blushing over Jean-Luc's name, she could turn her attention back to her son, where it belonged. As she put his cup of tea in front of him, she said, "You were very brave, to handle things the way you did."

Wesley shrugged. He'd been able to face medical testing more easily than his own mother. Oh, teenage boys.

She continued, "You must have a lot of questions. Unfortunately, so do I. And there aren't any easy answers."

Wes shrugged. "It's weird. On one hand – it reminds me that I never really got to know Dad. Not as a person. Because I keep thinking, This isn't like him, but I guess it must have been."

"I didn't think it was like him either," she confessed. "Nobody ever knows anyone else completely, I think. Not even the people we love best. For what it's worth, though, apparently it was a … singular mistake."

"That's what Captain Picard said. He told me Dad wasn't going to get a divorce or anything. That he loved you, always."

For one instant, Beverly misidentified the he in that sentence. "Ah. Well." She tucked a lock of her red hair behind one ear to steady herself. "The captain might be right. He was probably the best friend Jack ever had. But we're never going to know for sure. What we have to do now is learn to live without knowing."

"It's not fair," Wes said quietly. "You shouldn't have to lose him twice."

You could love your child so much it hurt, actual physical pain cleaving through your heart; Beverly felt it then, when she realized her son had worried about her pain more than his own. She reached across her desk to take his hand. "I still have the best of him, because I have you. Okay?"

"Okay."

Later that day, in Deanna Troi's quarters, Beverly leaned back in her chair and tried to describe that delicate, heart-wrenching moment. "Wesley even tried to smile for me. I've always wanted to be the strong one for him, but this time, it went the other way around."

"As you've said before, you and Wes are making a transition. You're treating him more as an adult than as a child." Deanna took two mugs from the replicator and set one in front of Beverly. "In this situation, he acted like an adult. I imagine that helped him – being able to feel that he could do something for you, instead of passively accepting difficult news."

"I hope so." Beverly lifted the mug to her lips. Deanna believed no problem was so terrible that hot chocolate couldn't help. There was something comforting about the stuff. "We haven't talked about his future contact with Nicole yet. I know he'll want that, and Xia's open to it, but I can't deny it's going to be hard for me." Would Nicole come to Wesley's Starfleet Academy graduation? His wedding? Would Beverly have to see Jack and Xia's daughter playing with her grandchildren?

Though of course they would be Jack's grandchildren too …

"That's in the future," Deanna said gently. "Let's talk about the present. We've discussed what this has meant for you as a mother. What does it mean for you as an individual?"

Beverly stared down at her hands curved around the mug, concentrated on the heat against her fingers. "I feel like such a fool."

"Why so? You could hardly have been expected to guess what Jack was up to, with as little time and evidence as you were given."

"It's not that."

"Do you doubt Jack's love for you?" Deanna's dark eyes were troubled. "Whatever happened in the final six months of your relationship doesn't negate everything that went before."

"Maybe, maybe not." And I'll never know. Maybe Jack himself never knew for sure. "But what gets to me isn't what happened before Jack died. It's how I've lived ever since."

"Interesting," Deanna said, which was code for keep talking.

Seeking words, Beverly began, "It's not as though I didn't know Jack had flaws. I was his wife, for God's sake, I'd seen his bad side. He could be – quick-tempered. Pessimistic. Impulsive. He never would pick up after himself, and he snored like Direllian bagpipes, and he always prioritized his career before mine. Oh, he'd take my work into account when I called him on it, but I always had to call him on it." She sighed. "In other words, he was no more or less flawed than the average human being. But somewhere in the past fifteen years, I managed to convince myself that I had lost the perfect man, and the perfect love."

"We all tend to idealize the dead." Deanna sipped her own hot chocolate. "It's a natural response to loss. We forget the trivia and remember what was most important – and for the people we love most, the most important memories are the best."

Beverly knew this, but also knew her case differed from the "natural" reaction. "But I've spent all this time telling myself that I would never fall in love like that again. That it was impossible, because I could search the entire galaxy and never find another man like Jack Crusher. And that no man could ever love me as deeply as he did."

This got no response from Deanna except "Mm." Counselors knew all too well when to remain silent.

"I forgot so many things about Jack – the foibles and mistakes that made him him. At some point, I stopped remembering the very real man who was my husband, and started … worshipping a plaster saint."

Deanna smiled softly. "And now, at last, you have the real Jack Crusher back again."

Beverly hadn't thought of it in those terms, but on some level it was true. Her reminiscences of Jack these past few days had been varied, confusing, even torturous – but they had been real. She had revisited the tenor of her relationship with Jack, had gone over memories besides the best ones, which of course were the ones she'd revisited so many times over the years that she'd polished away every imperfection. The real memories had texture. Vitality. Truth. She could again recall what it had been like in their little apartment on Alphacent, with Wesley wailing his way through teething and Jack trying to distract their baby by singing to him off-key, while she tried to cook real food (spaghetti? Lasagna? Something Italian-) and failed miserably. The community cat would sometimes find its way onto their balcony, and Jack would scratch its ears as they sat out there, drinking cheap wine and trying to convince themselves they weren't too exhausted to make love.

Those were the moments that mattered. The stuff a shared lifetime was made of. Beverly was happy to have them back again.

Still – "I'm also aware that to some extent I've used my widowhood as an excuse not to risk my heart again." Beverly gave her friend a look. "And you've tried to call me on it, though I pretended not to understand."

Deanna shook her head in mock-disbelief. "Why do people try to fool an empath?"

Beverly had to laugh. "I know, I know."

"So, if you won't be using that as an excuse any longer – does that mean you're ready to risk your heart once more?"

"Not so soon after learning this about Jack." It was a different kind of heartbreak, one that would require its own recovery. "But I always believed I'd never come to care about anyone else that much again. That it was impossible. And now I don't know if that's true any longer."

"Our hearts hold an almost infinite capacity for healing, and for love."

"Um, to change the subject – " Beverly's eyes drifted down to the floor. "The captain and I … had words about all this. When he first told me about Jack's affair, I lost it. I'm not sure I've ever been that furious in my life."

"Captain Picard understands you were hurting. Surely he wouldn't hold your anger against you."

Last night's memories surfaced from the blur of wine: Jean-Luc holding her hand, running his thumb along her lower lip, and gazing into her eyes as he admitted he wanted her. "It got a little more complicated than that."

To Beverly's surprise, Deanna seemed completely unfazed. "Your relationship with the captain began a long time ago. The friendship you share has had its ups and downs before, and it will again. Anything you've said or done over the past couple of days doesn't matter nearly as much as what happens between you from now on."

It wasn't as if Jean-Luc would act upon the things they'd said last night – at least, not if she didn't encourage him to do so. Since the warp core would freeze before she'd open another bottle of Chateau Picard alone, Beverly didn't think she'd be throwing herself at her commanding officer again anytime soon. So they were fine, really. They could go back to business as usual –

- no. They could go on from here perfectly well, but it would not be like before. Beverly knew that much already.

She said, "I feel as if our friendship has been changed, forever."

"It has been," Deanna replied. "But sometimes change is for the better. Up until now, I think you've both triangulated your relationship through Jack. You've never been able to move on from the grief, and perhaps he's never been able to let go of his guilt. That may no longer be true for either of you."

"Perhaps." Beverly remembered that damn fool business when Jean-Luc had tried to block her from the posting on the Enterprise. The secrets he'd carried for Xia, and the blame he'd attributed to them both instead of Xia alone, had led him to push her away. In turn, she had responded not by straightforwardly confronting him as a fellow officer, but with the unspoken hurt of a damaged woman. She liked to think they were both better than that. Their mistakes were what came of living in the past.

From now on, Beverly could no longer see her relationship with Jean-Luc solely through the prism that called him Jack's friend, and herself Jack's widow. They would redefine their roles in each other's lives, and that was a process that didn't have to happen overnight. They could take their time, figure it out.

As for the frisson of attraction between them – she'd deal with that later.

"You're free now in a way you haven't been before," Deanna said. "Take your time. Heal from the hurt you've felt. But once you're ready, claim your freedom, and discover where it takes you. I think you might be surprised by your potential for joy."

It had not occurred to Beverly that she didn't believe in finding joy for herself until Deanna spoke the words. Her throat tightened as she realized she'd treated the past fifteen years, and the undefined future, as no more than … denouement.

That's no way to lead a life, Beverly thought. Time for Act Two to begin.

Within another twenty-four hours, the crew infection rates had dropped again. While the ship was not yet fit for another mission, it would be possible to travel to the nearby planet Criotia – a well-developed world with ample medical facilities. Jean-Luc expected his crew to spend a few days bouncing back from the illness that would've been so dire without Beverly's hard work; for his own part, he anticipated several secure-channel conversations with Starfleet Command about the Romulans, not to mention the potential signing of the long-negotiated peace treaty with the Cardassian Empire. The next weeks and months promised to be diplomatically challenging –

- on more than one front, he thought, thinking of Beverly.

But no. His CMO was both a professional and a master of compartmentalization. Jean-Luc understood her well enough to know she would pull back after this, probably farther than ever before. That distance need not affect their ability to serve together.

As for their friendship – hopefully she would forgive him soon. Until then, Jean-Luc could do little but follow Counselor Troi's advice and allow Beverly the anger she needed to heal.

Before the Enterprise could leave for Criotia, the entire scientific team had to be settled into their temporary postings on Hasolon IV. Most of them had already left the ship with their belongings, but the final visiting officer was only now departing.

She had needed to wait until her daughter was well enough to travel.

"What does that even mean?" Nicole said groggily as she leaned on her mother's arm. "It's not like you have to be especially healthy to beam down anywhere. You don't even have to be alive."

"But you don't require any more medical treatment, which means we can finally move on." Xia smiled down at her daughter with all the love and gratitude that came from recovering someone believed lost.

Once, Jean-Luc had been so angry with Xia for her part in Jack's affair. Only now could see that his wrath had really been directed inward; he'd despised Xia for loving Jack because she mirrored his own secret love for Beverly. If Xia's behavior had been more irresponsible – had Jean-Luc's not been more dishonest? He still believed in the rightness of his discretion, but no longer thought such lines were clear-cut.

Of maybe he was simply too happy to see Jack Crusher's features reflected in another face, happy enough to forgive an affair just because it had brought Nicole into the world.

"It's been a pleasure meeting you," he said to the girl. "I'm only sorry we didn't get a chance to get to know each other better."

"I know. You were going to tell me all the stories about Mom when she was young and irresponsible!" Nicole smiled. "Next time?"

There might well be a next time, Jean-Luc realized – though it would be more likely Nicole would want to ask him about her father. "Certainly," he said. "I look forward to it."

Xia helped Nicole onto the platform, then stepped back down to make sure their things were correctly packed. Jean-Luc remained by the doors, close enough that they stayed open. In a low voice, Xia said, "Thanks for being willing to talk to her."

"Of course."

"I guess you'd always want to be there for the child of a friend."

"The child of two friends."

Slowly, crookedly, Xia managed to smile. "I'm glad you feel that way."

Jean-Luc clasped her hand in both of his. "None of us should be judged solely by our weakest moment."

Xia squeezed his hand in return, then went to the transporter pad. Nicole looked rather wan despite her protests earlier; she'd paid no attention to their conversation, and simply sighed in relief as her next journey with her mother began.

Chief O'Brien's hands moved across the console. The transporter beam shimmered into being, and Jean-Luc looked at Nicole – at the shadow of Jack he could glimpse within her – for the instant before she vanished.

He lingered for a few seconds, lost in thought, until O'Brien ventured, "Can I help you, sir?"

"No, no. As you were, chief."

Jean-Luc walked into the corridor, straightened his uniform jacket – and saw Beverly standing there, hands in the pockets of her blue medical coat. Instinctively he knew she'd been there throughout his farewell to Xia.

"Beverly." He searched for the right words. "Ah, Sun Xia and Nicole have left the ship."

"So I heard," Beverly replied, ducking her head slightly. "Glad to know you don't believe in judging people solely by their weakest moments."

At that, the tightness inside his chest loosened, and he felt as if he could breathe again around her. "If you won't judge me by mine."

"The wine –"

"You weren't yourself – "

They spoke simultaneously, broke off at the same moment, and then each smiled in fully mutual embarrassment and relief. When Beverly turned to walk along the corridor, Jean-Luc fell into step beside her, aware they wouldn't raise the question of last night again.

One step forward, two steps back, he thought. Always the same.

And yet he could not escape the sense that their close call the night before, and the greater implications of these unearthed secrets, might truly have changed something between him and Beverly Crusher forever.

For the better or for worse? Only time would tell.

""What's next for you?" he said as they walked down the corridor together, to fill the time and to speak with her as a captain to his CMO for a change.

She answered in kind. "I've sent off my findings to Starbase 133, and I expect to spend a good portion of the next few days working with them on a more powerful version of the inoculation. This one is effective, but we want to protect against any further mutations of the virus."

Jean-Luc nodded, pleased at the swift resolution of what could have been a far more serious, pan-sector crisis. Beverly's quick thinking had saved many lives, both on the Enterprise and beyond it.

Before he could say so, however, she hit the control for the turbolift and added, "After I'm done working on this virus, I'm going to turn my attention to – Act Two."

"Your theater group?" Jean-Luc asked.

"Hm. That's part of it." The lift doors swished open, and Beverly glanced at him over her shoulder as she stepped inside. "As for the rest – we'll see."

Jean-Luc would've liked to ask what she meant, but knew he would receive no answer. As the doors shut again, she gave him a farewell nod; he saw in her eyes a flicker of her usual vitality and wit. While he knew she was still hurting, he also knew that the broken person he'd glimpsed in the past couple of days was gone. Beverly was back. His Beverly. For now that was enough.

Maybe later, he'd learn just what she meant by "Act Two."

THE END