Comment: Rather philosophical again, I know. Couldn't resist a voyage into the fascinating mind of our favorite captain. He's the one most deeply affected by Will and Beverly's new relationship, and I wanted to explain exactly why. Happy ending? Well, as happy as circumstances provide.
Well, thanks for being there!! It's been a pleasure, I hope on your part too:))
Chapter 9: Believer
A captain knows when to abandon ship. He knows it with the same deep rooted instinct that tells him the warp engines are zero point zero zero two degrees off the peak efficiency level by the mere vibration of the deck at warp five, the same sharp and instant perception of a situation that tells him when to use diplomacy and when it's time to just grab a phaser, shoot now and ask questions later. He not only knows these things with his mind and his experience, he *feels* them with his body, in the very marrow of his bones.
But that doesn't always mean he's ready to accept them.
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Jean-Luc Picard knew what Beverly meant when she held his hands, looked into his eyes and said softly but firmly: "No." He knew what she meant when she had come into the room and pleaded with him that it had to stop - all of it. Hell, he even knew that the wild night and day of sexual extravagances everyone on the Enterprise was murmuring about was probably just a fantasy. Beverly and Will weren't acting like people who have had an outrageous and extraordinary sexual encounter; more like people who would like to find out *if* their relationship could eventually reach that stage of the outrageous and extraordinary - but they didn't dare take the next natural step.
Because of him. His reaction to the repeated messages of "Doctor Crusher is in Commader Riker's quarters" whenever he asked the computer her location (he could almost hear the slightly annoying female voice that reminded him vaguegly of Lwaxana Troi add "STILL in Commader Riker's quarters") had been of utter shock and disbelief. He could literally feel himself freeze up, doors close in his mind and in his heart. As if someone had told him James T. Kirk had enjoyed performing vivisection on infant tribbles in his spare time, or that Q had decided to wipe out the Borg from existence to make up for his past sins. Those things just didn't happen.
Jean-Luc Picard knew he lived in an unstable, unpredictable Universe, and most of the time he was pretty sure that there was no higher being who led men's destinies. Nevertheless, humans where meant to be believers. They were constructed that way. There had to be some fundamentals to believe in.
For Captain Picard, it was people. People changed, disappeared, they died every day, as captain of a starship he knew that well enough. But somehow he had managed to convince himself that the people he felt most attached to, his family, his friends, were the exceptions to this inexorable rule. And he was not alone in believing it, mind you - history and fact were on his side. Everyone knew that the bridge crew of the Enterprise - ANY Enterprise - was for some cosmic reason touched by a special grace: THEY didn't die, disappear or change so easily, they *endured*, they stood by each other and stayed right the way they were.
Never had Jean-Luc had a reason to doubt this. Sometimes, when he was plagued by nightmares, or when he couldn't sleep for days, his mind oppressed by the weight of a decision no one could take for him, or when he sat alone in the observation lounge after a briefing and had to ask himself again what the hell he was doing... the thought of his trust in this people and theirs in him was what got him through. No matter what, he knew they would never be far when he needed them, and they would be whatever he needed them to be. They were his safety net, his last resort.
And when everything else failed, when he had nowhere else to turn to, he thought of Beverly. Beverly who understood him with just a word or a look, Beverly with the gentle hands and firm voice who could cure anything, anything at all, Beverly with the most exciting body through all four quadrants and beyond the great rim. Her affairs with other men affected him, of course, but never very deeply because nothing could shatter his conviction that, ultimately, she was waiting for *him*. She would wait as long as he needed her to. And if he needed it to be forever, then forever it would be.
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"No."
This was the time to surrender. It was as clear as it could get: either he let it go - he let HER go - or she would leave. In anger. Was that what he wanted?
But it was not just her she was asking him to let go: she was asking him to leave the solid ground under his feet and jump into the unknown.
She didn't let go of his hands, nor he of hers. She could feel his fear, and in the same soft tone she said: "I am not going far, Jean-Luc. I'll be just... next door."
With a deep sigh, he nodded. Relieved, she threw her arms around him and held him close. For a moment, he resisted, but then he gave in and just hugged her back. They had never held each other like this, not even when they had needed it most. There was always something standing between them: an uncertainty, a blurred past, a vague future of even vaguer promises... Now that they had disregarded all that, it was as if they could see each other for the first time for what they really were: friends. And they could value that friendship for what it was, without wishing it to be something else, or something more.
Maybe, maybe the solid ground he had been looking for was right here after all...
Finally, she pulled back a little and said: "You have to talk to Will."
"Beverly, I don't know if..."
"But *I* know, Jean-Luc! You said some terrible things to him, things I'm sure you didn't mean, and he has to know that. He has to feel you trust him again. You owe that much to him, don't you think?"
As he was silent, she insisted: "If you're still wondering - nothing happened, nothing at all. You know how people talk. We actually just got pretty drunk, if you want to know the truth, and then, in his quarters..."
"I know, I know", he assured her hurriedly. He wasn't quite ready to hear all the details yet. "It's not that, it's just that..." He fidgeted. "I guess I'm ashamed."
"As you should be. You behaved like a jerk."
"Oh thank you, Beverly, that makes me feel so much better. Now I shall certainly have no more misgivings about approaching Commander Riker."
"Come on, Jean-Luc, face it: even *you* can act like a jerk just like any other man. What's important is that you notice - or that someone MAKES you notice - before it's too late, while there's still time say I'm sorry."
His face was serious again.
"Do you think there's still time?"
She smiled. "Jean-Luc, to hear a 'sorry' from you, Will Riker would wait until the end of times and some years after that."
He didn't smile back, but instead asked the computer what time it was. One hundred hours. He turned towards her, hesitating.
"I'm sure he's awake", she encouraged him.
He nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I think so too."
Before he reached the door, he stopped. With an evident effort, he faced her to ask the one question he couldn't get off his mind. As absurd as it would seem, and whatever the answer, he just had to know.
"Do you love him?"
She didn't answer immediately. Her face asuumed a distant look, and her smile spoke of things so precious and delicate, a mere rough thought could break them.
"I don't know yet. But I hope I will."
He nodded again, and the smile he offered her now was the one she had known and loved so many years.
Well, thanks for being there!! It's been a pleasure, I hope on your part too:))
Chapter 9: Believer
A captain knows when to abandon ship. He knows it with the same deep rooted instinct that tells him the warp engines are zero point zero zero two degrees off the peak efficiency level by the mere vibration of the deck at warp five, the same sharp and instant perception of a situation that tells him when to use diplomacy and when it's time to just grab a phaser, shoot now and ask questions later. He not only knows these things with his mind and his experience, he *feels* them with his body, in the very marrow of his bones.
But that doesn't always mean he's ready to accept them.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jean-Luc Picard knew what Beverly meant when she held his hands, looked into his eyes and said softly but firmly: "No." He knew what she meant when she had come into the room and pleaded with him that it had to stop - all of it. Hell, he even knew that the wild night and day of sexual extravagances everyone on the Enterprise was murmuring about was probably just a fantasy. Beverly and Will weren't acting like people who have had an outrageous and extraordinary sexual encounter; more like people who would like to find out *if* their relationship could eventually reach that stage of the outrageous and extraordinary - but they didn't dare take the next natural step.
Because of him. His reaction to the repeated messages of "Doctor Crusher is in Commader Riker's quarters" whenever he asked the computer her location (he could almost hear the slightly annoying female voice that reminded him vaguegly of Lwaxana Troi add "STILL in Commader Riker's quarters") had been of utter shock and disbelief. He could literally feel himself freeze up, doors close in his mind and in his heart. As if someone had told him James T. Kirk had enjoyed performing vivisection on infant tribbles in his spare time, or that Q had decided to wipe out the Borg from existence to make up for his past sins. Those things just didn't happen.
Jean-Luc Picard knew he lived in an unstable, unpredictable Universe, and most of the time he was pretty sure that there was no higher being who led men's destinies. Nevertheless, humans where meant to be believers. They were constructed that way. There had to be some fundamentals to believe in.
For Captain Picard, it was people. People changed, disappeared, they died every day, as captain of a starship he knew that well enough. But somehow he had managed to convince himself that the people he felt most attached to, his family, his friends, were the exceptions to this inexorable rule. And he was not alone in believing it, mind you - history and fact were on his side. Everyone knew that the bridge crew of the Enterprise - ANY Enterprise - was for some cosmic reason touched by a special grace: THEY didn't die, disappear or change so easily, they *endured*, they stood by each other and stayed right the way they were.
Never had Jean-Luc had a reason to doubt this. Sometimes, when he was plagued by nightmares, or when he couldn't sleep for days, his mind oppressed by the weight of a decision no one could take for him, or when he sat alone in the observation lounge after a briefing and had to ask himself again what the hell he was doing... the thought of his trust in this people and theirs in him was what got him through. No matter what, he knew they would never be far when he needed them, and they would be whatever he needed them to be. They were his safety net, his last resort.
And when everything else failed, when he had nowhere else to turn to, he thought of Beverly. Beverly who understood him with just a word or a look, Beverly with the gentle hands and firm voice who could cure anything, anything at all, Beverly with the most exciting body through all four quadrants and beyond the great rim. Her affairs with other men affected him, of course, but never very deeply because nothing could shatter his conviction that, ultimately, she was waiting for *him*. She would wait as long as he needed her to. And if he needed it to be forever, then forever it would be.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"No."
This was the time to surrender. It was as clear as it could get: either he let it go - he let HER go - or she would leave. In anger. Was that what he wanted?
But it was not just her she was asking him to let go: she was asking him to leave the solid ground under his feet and jump into the unknown.
She didn't let go of his hands, nor he of hers. She could feel his fear, and in the same soft tone she said: "I am not going far, Jean-Luc. I'll be just... next door."
With a deep sigh, he nodded. Relieved, she threw her arms around him and held him close. For a moment, he resisted, but then he gave in and just hugged her back. They had never held each other like this, not even when they had needed it most. There was always something standing between them: an uncertainty, a blurred past, a vague future of even vaguer promises... Now that they had disregarded all that, it was as if they could see each other for the first time for what they really were: friends. And they could value that friendship for what it was, without wishing it to be something else, or something more.
Maybe, maybe the solid ground he had been looking for was right here after all...
Finally, she pulled back a little and said: "You have to talk to Will."
"Beverly, I don't know if..."
"But *I* know, Jean-Luc! You said some terrible things to him, things I'm sure you didn't mean, and he has to know that. He has to feel you trust him again. You owe that much to him, don't you think?"
As he was silent, she insisted: "If you're still wondering - nothing happened, nothing at all. You know how people talk. We actually just got pretty drunk, if you want to know the truth, and then, in his quarters..."
"I know, I know", he assured her hurriedly. He wasn't quite ready to hear all the details yet. "It's not that, it's just that..." He fidgeted. "I guess I'm ashamed."
"As you should be. You behaved like a jerk."
"Oh thank you, Beverly, that makes me feel so much better. Now I shall certainly have no more misgivings about approaching Commander Riker."
"Come on, Jean-Luc, face it: even *you* can act like a jerk just like any other man. What's important is that you notice - or that someone MAKES you notice - before it's too late, while there's still time say I'm sorry."
His face was serious again.
"Do you think there's still time?"
She smiled. "Jean-Luc, to hear a 'sorry' from you, Will Riker would wait until the end of times and some years after that."
He didn't smile back, but instead asked the computer what time it was. One hundred hours. He turned towards her, hesitating.
"I'm sure he's awake", she encouraged him.
He nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I think so too."
Before he reached the door, he stopped. With an evident effort, he faced her to ask the one question he couldn't get off his mind. As absurd as it would seem, and whatever the answer, he just had to know.
"Do you love him?"
She didn't answer immediately. Her face asuumed a distant look, and her smile spoke of things so precious and delicate, a mere rough thought could break them.
"I don't know yet. But I hope I will."
He nodded again, and the smile he offered her now was the one she had known and loved so many years.