yappichick | Involve, a ST:TNG fic

Episode: Code of Honor

Beverly reached around her desk, unwilling to look away from the status report from Styris IV. Finally, she found what she was looking for--a cup--and brought it to her lips. She frowned as she realized she had already drunk all of the coffee.

Reluctantly, she stopped reading. There was no way she would be able to finish the report without some kind of caffinated help; the words were already starting to blue together.

“Coffee, hot with Irish cream,” she ordered as she approached the replicator.

Moments later, a cup appeared with steam curling over the edge. Greedily, she picked it up and took a long drink, wincing as the hot liquid went down her throat. As she returned to her desk, the doors to her office opened, revealing Deanna Troi.

The redhead had a good idea why she was down there.

“Counselor,” she greeted evenly.

“Dr. Crusher,” the counselor returned.

“May I help you with something?” she asked sweetly.

She watched Deanna study her for a few seconds. Finally the Betezed spoke. “When is the last time you got any sleep?”

Beverly pasted a phony smile on her face. “I didn’t know it was the counselor’s job to keep up with the sleeping habits of the senior officers.” She knew she was being hostile, but there was no way she was going to allow a few hours of sleep keep her from making certain that the crisis on Styris IV was fully under control.

Deanna smiled patiently, not bothered by the doctor’s words. “Normally, I’m not. However, when the officer starts to exhibit abnormal behavior--being short tempered or irritable-- I feel like it’s my place as ship counselor to suggest some rest.”

Beverly glanced at her screen, debating on ignoring Deanna and her unwanted advice. Finally, she decided against it. “I appreciate your concern, but I can assure you I have survived with less sleep during my residency.”

“I’m sure you have,” Deanna said evenly, “but a thousand lives weren’t under your care either.”

Beverly took a sip of her coffee. “I do have other doctors on staff that are more than capable of minding a broken leg. This,” she said, pointing to her screen, “requires the attention of the Chief Medical Officer.”

“But, I thought the vaccine had been successfully delivered hours ago.”

“Yes,” the doctor answered, “but I’m monitoring the reaction to it. Already there have been several dozen reports of rejection.” She didn’t disclose that the reactions had been mild and were under control to the counselor.

Sensing defeat, Deanna took a step back. “Alright. I just thought I would try to talk to you about getting some rest. He’s concerned about you.”

Beverly relaxed slightly. Now she understood the counselor’s persistence. “Wes is always overprotective of me.”

Deanna frowned. “I was talking about the captain.”

Beverly couldn’t mask the surprise on her face. “He’s worried?”

Deanna smiled triumphantly, knowing she had Beverly’s attention. “That’s that way it sounded to me. I hardly think that Captain Picard is the type of person to request for me to come down if he wasn’t concerned.”

Beverly was horrified at the idea that Jean-Luc was confiding to Deanna about his apprehension concerning her welfare. And she certainly wasn’t comfortable with Deanna knowing how much the captain’s interest in her well-being affected her.

Finally, she tapped her comm badge. “Crusher to Selar.” She noticed Deanna relax, knowing she was going to give in

“Dr. Selar here, go ahead.”

“Would you please come to my office to help monitor the situation on Styris IV? I am going to take a few hours and rest,” she said, forcing the words.

“Understood, I will be there shortly.”

Beverly looked at Deanna. “Please let the captain know that there is no reason to be concerned. On the other hand,” she said, standing up, “I’ll tell him myself.”

Deanna nodded as Beverly walked away, wondering what kind of relationship exactly there was between the ship’s captain and his CMO.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It came as no surprise to Jean-Luc that Beverly would confront him about his talk with Troi. He only hoped she had enough time to cool down before speaking with him. Fighting with an exhausted CMO was not high on his list of things to do.

The door chimed and Picard knew his time of reprieve had ended. “Come,” he called.

Beverly walked in, her fiery anger surrounding her. “If you feel that I am incapable of doing my job, Captain, I would appreciate it if you talk to me about it face to face.”

He leaned back in his chair, assessing her. How long had it been since she slept? Twenty hours? Thirty? He knew she was irate at him, but he knew that, being the dedicated doctor she was, she would push herself too far to insure the well-being of the people of Styris IV.

“I never said anything of the sort, Doctor,” he replied evenly. “Please,” he said, guiding her to his couch, “have a seat.”

She flopped down as he sat next to her. “But Troi said--”

“I may have expressed some concern. Good doctors often put their own health to the side when healing others,” he replied.

She crossed her arms. “I think I know my own limits, Captain.”

Picard shifted slightly. “Beverly, if our positions were reversed, would you not feel the same way?”

He watched her expression soften as she considered his words. “I suppose I would. But, I would have talked to you directly,” she answered firmly.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

His words defused the last of her anger. She allowed herself to close her eyes briefly. “The next time you feel like this…” A yawn interrupted her sentence.

“I will not getting Counselor Troi involved,” he finished.

She blinked slowly, her exhaustion finally overcoming her. “Thank you, Jean-Luc.” Beverly knew she should get up and make her way down to her quarters, but the couch suddenly felt so comfortable. She heard Jean-Luc say something to her as her eyes closed, but her mind was too tired to decipher what the words were.

*************

An hour later, Jean-Luc sat at his desk, reading Dr. Selar’s most recent report on the people of Styris IV, when the door chimed. “Come,” he said softly.

Riker stood at the door, tentatively taking a step inside. “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting--” He stopped as he noticed Beverly was missing. “Sir, where is Dr. Crusher?”

Picard nodded towards the couch where Beverly was contently sleeping. “It would seem that our Chief Medical Officer underestimated her level of fatigue, Number One,” he said with a slight smile on his lips. “Was there something you needed?”

“The High Counsel of Styris sent over a transmission, expressing their thanks to Dr. Crusher and her staff for their assistance in controlling the outbreak of Anchilles fever. They expect there will be no deaths because of her execution of delivering the vaccine,” he reported.

“I would have expected no less from her,” Picard said truthfully.

“Now that the crisis has been resolved, Starfleet has given us our new orders. Should I have La Forge put in the coordinates, sir?”

Picard shook his head. “I will, Number One,” he said, walking to the door.

“What about Dr. Crusher?” asked Riker.

Grinning slightly, Picard answered, “I think she deserves a bit of rest, don’t you?”

Riker flashed a smile. “Absolutely, sir.”

Involve, a ST:TNG fic

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