The BLTS Archive -  And she closed her eyes
by RosyRock (rosyrock1968@yahoo.com.au)

---

Published: 03-24-06

Updated: 03-24-06

Dedication: For mackillian with out whose help JLP and Bev would still
be stuck in that cavern, and I would never have found out the Vulcan
for Karma Sutra.

This story takes place in the AU where the events in the Episode 'The
arsenal of freedom' occurred much late on.

---
"Yet when I surveyed all that my
Hands had done
And what I had toiled to achieve
Everything was meaningless, a
Chasing after the wind;
Nothing was gained under the sun."

Ecclesiastes 2:11
---

It had all happened so fast.

Jean-Luc and Beverly had been separated from the rest of the away team
as the Minosian automated weapon had locked onto them, firing rapidly.
Startled, Beverly had run for cover and to his horror, Picard had
watched as the ground underneath her had given way and she had toppled
backwards and through. Desperately, Jean-Luc had held out his hand to
help her. Beverly had gripped it frantically but her backwards
momentum had only succeeded in pulling them both down.

The freefall into the darkness had lasted only a few seconds.

Jean-Luc sat dazed but feeling very lucky that his fall had been
broken by the sand underneath him and the good fortune of having
landed mostly on his feet. Apart from a few minor scrapes and bruises
he was fine.

His next thought was Beverly.

An ominous silence greeted him when he called her name. Jean-Luc
peered through the darkness looking for her, calling again. "Beverly,
are you alright? Where are you?"

He heard a low groan and a shiver of dread ran down his spine.

Carefully, he made his way towards the sound, hoping against hope that
she was not seriously hurt. He scrambled over the debris brought down
by their fall and, after a short search, he found her. Beverly had
landed awkwardly and was now laying amongst a pile of rocks and torn,
twisted vegetation. He could see that her arm was lying at a
sickeningly unnatural angle, most definitely broken.

"Beverly, oh shit!" Jean-Luc came and knelt down next to her.

Her face was ashen and her breath came in painful gasps. She turned
her head towards him. "Jean-Luc," she said weakly.

"Don't worry," he said softly. "I'll get you out of here." He pressed
his communicator. "Enterprise, this is the Captain. Two to beam up."

There was no response.

He gently reached over and pressed Beverly's comm badge. "Enterprise?"

Beverly groaned in pain. He felt his desperation rising. He tried once
more, this time trying to raise the away team. "Data, please respond."

Nothing. The comm link remained stubbornly silent.

"What's wrong? why aren't they working?" Beverly's voice filled with
despair.

Jean-Luc reached out and gently stroked her face. "I don't know, but
don't worry. As soon as they discover our communicators are out, the
sensors will locate us and the Enterprise will beam us up." He hoped
he sounded more confident than he felt. So he tried to distract her,
knowing he would need her help to treat her injuries. "Your arm is in
very bad shape. I am going to have to immobilise it."

Beverly nodded. "Yes," she said, still sounding weak.

He set about fashioning a crude splint using sticks and a strip of
fabric torn off her coat.

Beverly felt a flash of agony as he moved her arm and drew a pain
filled breath. "Oh shit, Jean-Luc! That hurts," she said through a
clenched jaw.

He bit his lip as he concentrated on working as quickly as possible.
"I am being as gentle as I can."

Beverly felt herself slipping into unconsciousness.

"Don't you dare go to sleep!" he said roughly, his fear making his
voice more harsh than he intended.

Beverly's eyes snapped open. "I think I am going into shock."

"But I have stopped the bleeding, it wasn't that bad," Jean-Luc said,
puzzled.

She made a weak attempt to shake her head. "No, there is another
wound. Oh hell, my leg."

Picard dug frantically at the sand and dirt around her legs. Her leg
was bleeding profusely from a deep laceration, soaking the sand around
it red with blood. "Beverly, I have to stop this bleeding," he said,
trying to keep his voice even.

"The wound needs a clotting agent," she answered, the weakness fading
her voice.

He looked around. "I can't find your med kit!"

Beverly made an effort to point. "Jean-Luc, those roots growing on the
wall over there."

He followed her gaze and stood, walking over to the wall. "These?"

"Yes. Break off a piece and taste it, but don't swallow."

He did as she asked, then grimaced. "It's very bitter."

"Yes, good," she said. "Pound it into a paste and spread it on the
wound."

"How do you know about this plant?" he asked.

"I used a very similar species for the same purpose on Arvada."

Jean-Luc momentarily stopped what he was doing. "You don't mean Arvada
III?"

"My family were among the colonists there," she said.

His mind reeled, recalling the horrors of that doomed settlement. "My
god Beverly, you never told me that."

Beverly closed her eyes and swallowed. "When the medical supplies ran
out we had to make do with herbal remedies."

Jean-Luc kept her talking. "You must have very young then."

She sighed. "Yes, I was."

"I don't believe that I have known you for all these years and you
never told me this about yourself," he said, shaking his head.

Beverly tried to appease him. "Don't feel bad. I don't tell anyone. I
don't like to think about it."

He sat back on his heels. "Was it as bad as the reports say?"

Beverly scowled. "Let's just say if there is a biblical hell, its
other name is Arvada III."

Picard looked at her, feeling grim. "I had absolutely no idea that you
had been through that."

Beverly smiled, ever weakly. "Jean-Luc, the things you don't know
about me could fill a large ocean."

He sat down next to her, smoothing her hair back from her clammy
forehead. He could see that she was pale from blood loss, her fair
skin now taking on an almost ghostly pallor. How swiftly circumstances
could change, a few hours ago they were having breakfast together,
talking and laughing, and now he was on the verge of losing her. . .
No! He shut down that morbid line of thought savagely. He refused to
let himself dwell on that.

He ran his fingers softly down the side of her face. He had to keep
her conscious, keep her brain ticking over. The alternative was
unthinkable. "Well, here is your chance. We are stuck here alone;
talk to me, tell me everything about yourself," he said, trying to
sound as upbeat as possible.

Beverly smiled to herself. The situation must be grim if Jean-Luc was
willing to discuss personal things. "No, you ask me and I'll tell
you," she said, giving him an order.

He sat back, a small smile flitting across his face. "As bossy as
ever. Not even massive blood loss can do anything to lessen that!"

Beverly laughed out loud and then groaned. "Oh shit, that hurt! You
bastard. You made me laugh on purpose, didn't you? Just ask your
bloody question."

He sat back and tapped a tattoo on his leg with his fingers. "Did you
sleep with Will Riker when he hosted Odan?" he said, hesitation making
his tone soft.

Oh yes, now her eyes were wide open.

She turned her head to look at him and he saw the surprise in her
eyes. The question was entirely unexpected. "Do you really want to
know, Jean-Luc?" she asked as softly as he.

He took a deep breath. "I asked."

She turned her head away again. "Yes I did," she said, the answer
quick and sharp.

Jean-Luc felt jealousy knife keenly through him. For a moment, he
could say nothing.

Beverly turned back to him, sensing his turbulent emotions. "It was
Will I spent the night with, Jean-Luc, but the man I made love with
was Odan."

He absorbed this, and then continuing with that train of thought he
went on. "But you didn't continue the relationship with Odan after he
was joined with the female Trill?"

Beverly thought awhile, then answered truthfully. "I had a very
difficult time with that. I was drawn to her; I could have continued
our relationship. It wasn't the fact that the host was a woman that
stopped me. What I felt for Odan was still there, just as strong." She
sighed as she remembered. "It was the uncertainty of knowing what the
future held for us that ended that relationship for me. Not the gender
of Odan's host."

Jean-Luc nodded, more than a little surprised at this disclosure. "I
had no idea that you were also attracted to women."

Beverly gave a chuckle. "I'm not...It was just different with Odan."

Picard thought for awhile before asking, "Do you still keep in contact
with her?"

Beverly didn't answer. He nudged her. "Come on stay with me!"

She groaned weakly, "I just want to sleep."

"You will not go to sleep, Doctor, and that is an order!" he shouted.

Beverly forced her eyes open. "Jean-Luc, can you check my leg?"

He moved down to where her leg lay still half submerged in the loose
sand and debris. The bleeding had slowed, but way too much blood was
still oozing away from the wound, soaking into the sand. He shook his
head. "It's still bleeding. What should I do?"

Beverly lay still, not answering.

Jean-Luc reached up and shook her roughly. "Beverly, wake up! You
cannot close your eyes. Do you hear me, Doctor? That is an order!"

He heard her moan in pain and felt like a heel, but he had to keep her
with him. He would not let her slip into that black pit of oblivion.
He shook her again, even harder this time. "Doctor, what should I do?
My patient is bleeding badly and losing consciousness," he rapped out,
appealing to her medical training, desperately trying to keep her mind
active and in the here and now.

Beverly's voice answered his, weak. "Your patient is in shock. You
must stop the bleeding and elevate the affected limb. Keep the patient
warm."

"A tourniquet?"

"Yes, that would work. Primitive, but effective."

He ripped another piece off her coat and wrapped it securely above the
wound, tightening it until the bleeding slowed. Now he had to elevate
her legs. "This is going to hurt, Beverly," he said, his voice full of
apology.

He dug away at the remaining sand surrounding her legs and with one
swift movement he gently lifted her legs and rested them on top of the
rubble. In vain, Beverly tried to stifle her scream of agony. The
sound of it pierced through him.

Jean-Luc came back to her side and he reached out to tuck a stray
piece of hair behind her ear. "I am sorry I hurt you, my love," he
whispered.

Beverly stirred, her mind floating now, attached to her body by only
the frailest cord. "My love," she echoed.

Picard choked, trying not to let the cry come out. "Please, Beverly,
fight it. Stay with me. . . you don't understand. . . I can't lose
you." Not now, not ever.

"I'm sorry, I can't fight it," Beverly whispered.

"Damn it Beverly, you will fight it! I don't want to have to bring
another Crusher's body home!"

Beverly's eyes opened and focused. "Wesley."

"Yes, god damn it, Beverly, think of Wesley! Are you just going to
give up and leave him alone? Are you such a selfish bitch that you
would leave your son to cope without you?" His own fears echoed in
every painful word he spoke, his words carefully chosen to ignite her
temper.

Beverly shifted slightly and looked at him, shocked at his words.
"Don't you ever bloody well swear at me again, Jean-Luc Picard," she
spat. "I have survived shit that would send you running home to your
mother like a fucking schoolboy!"

He sighed in relief. He had made her angry. Anger was good, it would
keep her alive. He took another look at her pale face. Yes, she was
furious. He egged her on. "Oh, I doubt that very much, Doctor
Crusher," he said, doing his best to sound condescending and
succeeding at it.

Beverly snapped at him, "I helped bury my own parents when I was
eight."

"This was on Arvada III?"

"Oh shit, the man is a fucking genius. Yes, it was on Arvada III.
Curse that shitty hole of a planet."

"How did it happen?"

"There was a sickness, some sort of virus, very virulent, very
effective. My parents died a day apart and I buried them."

"But you lived?" He knew he was stating the obvious, but at least he
had her attention, and she was crankier than ever.

She sighed, long sufferingly. "Yes, of course I lived."

"How?" He kept his questions short, making her do the all the work,
forcing her to think.

Beverly's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Hell, I don't know."

He was singularly unimpressed. "What do you mean you don't know? You
are a doctor, aren't you?" he asked loftily. He knew how much she
hated it when he used that superior tone with her.

"Don't you think that I haven't tried to find out why I survived? I
spend hours of my free time going over it again and again! But I never
come any closer to the answer...all I know is that ninety five percent
of the colonists died. I obviously didn't. End of fucking story," she
snapped out.

Jean-Luc prodded her again. "How did they die?"

"What?" she said, supremely irritated.

"I asked you how your parents died."

"They started coughing. Dad got it first, then Mum, then they started
bleeding internally, inside the lungs. The virus destroyed the
bronchial tissue, just ate it away. They died drowning in their own
blood."

"You saw this?"

"Of course I saw it! I was covered in their blood, fucking litres of
it. I tried to help Mum. . . but it was hopeless; she died in my
arms. And you know what?"

"What?" He wasn't sure if he really wanted to know the answer, but he
had to hear it.

"I was glad."

"What do you mean 'glad'?" His tone was deliberately frosty.

"I was glad that she died and her suffering was over."

"Did that experience make you decide on a career in medicine?"

"No, Jean-Luc, I was only eight! It just made me think that the
universe can be a pretty shitty place."

"It messed you up?" Picard relaxed slightly, well pleased at his
efforts. He turned to her and watched as the emotions played out on
her face. No wonder she was so bad at poker, he could read her like a
book.

"I can't believe this!" She gave an exasperated little sigh. "Of
course it messed me up! I was a nightmare after that, getting into
trouble all the time on Caldos."

"On Caldos." He shook his head. "Hang on. How did you get there?"

"After the Federation came, I was evacuated there. I was sent to live
with Nana."

He leaned back and crossed his arms. "Oh, so you took it out on her?"

"I did not!" she said, indignant. "I just couldn't handle the guilt of
being alive."

"Like I said, so you took it out on your poor Nana," he said, smug.

Beverly's sigh was tinged with regret. "I was a small child. I never
realized how much I hurt her then. And as I grew older my problems
didn't leave me, they just changed."

"What do you mean?" He watched her face closely.

"I had to feel, to use my physical senses. I obviously knew I was
alive, but I needed to feel it. I needed to feel what 'alive' was..."
her voice wavered, uncertain.

"How?" he shot straight back, not letting her drift away.

"I did stuff, stupid stuff to make myself feel sensation. . . to feel
something, anything."

"What did you do?" He was more interested now.

"I took drugs. I had sex, lots of sex. I fucked anything that moved."

"You're kidding me. I can't believe that of you."

"Why not? I am only human. By the time I met Jack, I had just about
destroyed myself." She smiled a bit at the thought of her husband.
"Jack saved me, he gave me worth, believed in me, loved me...I still
miss him so much, Jean-Luc."

He watched as she drifted away in her memories, a small smile at the
corners of her mouth. Was she thinking about her dead husband, happy
at the thought of being reunited with him? To his surprise he found he
was actually more than a little jealous of her devotion to the dead
man. His jealousy flared into anger, and he used it, desperate to pull
her back from the abyss. "So you needed a crutch? Someone to believe
in you, prop you up? Didn't you just substitute one addiction for
another?" He looked at her coolly. "I thought you were stronger than
that."

Beverly couldn't believe what he was implying and her outrage grew.
Her thoughts focused again. "Are you saying my whole marriage to Jack
was a cop out?"

"Well wasn't it?" He intentionally baited her. "You knew that Jack's
first love was space exploration. He wasn't around long enough to be a
real husband to you."

"He was around long enough to father Wesley," she said, her turn to be
smug.

"No. He was there for the couple of minutes or so it took to create
Wesley, but he was never around to be a father to him. There is a big
difference."

Beverly snorted. "A couple of minutes, my ass! Don't judge every man
by your own inadequacies, Captain."

"He used to talk about you," he said, continuing that train of
thought.

"What do you mean? What did he say?"

"He would talk about what you were like in bed."

Beverly was shocked. "I don't believe you."

"Oh yes." He sat back, reminiscing. "I know what you liked, what you
didn't like."

"That's not true, Jack would never..."

"Well Jack did, in great detail."

"You absolute and utter lying bastard! You're just saying that."

"Beverly, we were men a long way from home. We discussed women. A
lot."

"I know Jack would never have talked to you about me like that."

"Do you want proof?"

She remained stubbornly silent.

He pressed on. "I asked if you wanted proof."

"Damn you, Jean-Luc Picard!"

"You like to be on top and you love to have your butt squeezed when
you orgasm," he said, without missing a beat.

"I...you..." she spluttered.

"Shall I go on?"

"No."

He shook his head sadly. "Jack was no saint, Beverly."

"And you, to steal someone's line, are no gentleman," she grumbled.

He laughed. "It's only taken you twenty years to work that out?"

Beverly fumed. "You know what I think. . . I think you were jealous."

"Jealous?" His tone was soft and dangerous.

"Yes, of Jack. That I chose him over you."

"You chose Jack over me? You mean you were attracted to me back then?"
he said.

She shook her head in denial. "No. I never was."

"Liar. What about that incident in my Ready Room?"

"That was different," she reasoned.

"How?" he demanded.

"I was under the influence of the Psi 2000 virus. Any man would have
done," she countered.

"But you came to me, not any other man, only me," he said silkily.
"What I want to know is why?"

"I needed. . . " Then she hesitated.

"What? What did you need?"

"I needed someone," she said softly.

"Why, what could I give you that no one else could?"

"You know damn well!"

"Tell me," he asked, his voice gentle.

"Jean-Luc, don't do this to me," her voice was low. "Not now."

"Beverly," he said gently, "What did you want? What did you need from
me?"

Beverly met his eyes fleetingly and then she changed the topic. "You
watch me."

"I do?" Caught.

"Yes. You think I don't notice?"

He smiled. "No, I never thought you did."

"Why do you watch me?"

"You know the answer to that."

"Is it because you want me, Jean-Luc?"

"I always wanted you, Beverly. Right from the very beginning."

"Would you be telling me this if I weren't dying?"

"You are not going to die!" he said, adamant.

"Oh yes, I am. You would never be telling me these things if you
thought there was any possibility that I would live long enough to
torture you with them."

She did have a point. He almost groaned in defeat. Damn it, she was
not going to get the better of him. He knew Beverly, if he conceded
the point, she would die just to spite him. "You were my best friend's
wife, I found you attractive. I'm sure whatever I wanted from you was
purely physical, a hormonal response to a beautiful woman."

"That's all? You just wanted my body?"

"Well it is a very nice body and with all that Jack told me about
it. . . " he let his voice wander off.

Beverly seethed. "And here I was thinking that you valued my
intelligence."

"There have been many times since Jack died that I was sure you'd have
let me 'value' all of you, in a second."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Oh cut it out, Beverly." He met her eyes, taunting her. "I've seen
the way you look at me." Two could play this game.

"I never look at you that way, ever!"

Jean-Luc smiled. "That is the biggest lie you have told me so far.
What about that time on the holodeck? If Data and Whalen hadn't been
there, I could have taken you right there on Dixon Hill's desk."

"You. . . conceited, smug, egotistical. . . " then she ran out of insults.

Picard chuckled. "You forgot devastatingly attractive."

Beverly punched him with her good arm, cussing and swearing as the
recklessness of her action hit home.

He was pleased. He has roused her to physical violence. This was good.
"And don't forget when we were kidnapped by the Ansata separatists on
Rutia. Just what were you going to tell me before the lights went
out?"

Beverly squirmed uncomfortably. "That I had discovered how much I
dislike you. That's what."

"Oh come now Doctor, you were sitting very close to me and I never
saw a jot of dislike in your eyes at all. On the contrary it was
very much more like. . . attraction...or maybe even desire." His eyes
closed dramatically as he savoured the memory.

"Desire my ass!" Beverly hissed.

"Well, only if you are offering and might I just say all that Klingon
martial arts you have been doing lately has done wonders for your. . . "

She slapped him, hard.

Jean-Luc never felt so happy; more violence. Yes she might just make
it. But if she did there was a good chance that she would flay him
alive later. He bravely decided to take the chance. It was worth it.
So he pressed on. "And then there was that business with my double. I
must say your report on that matter was spectacularly unforthcoming."

"I told you everything I thought you needed to know," Beverly huffed.

"Well, I still have some questions about things that you saw fit to
gloss over and, seeing that you are about to expire on me, you have no
reason not to fill in the blanks."

"Okay, I will. Firstly, your double was far more pleasant to me than
you are being at the moment," she said slowly.

"I gathered that from your report. He seemed quite charming."

"Secondly, he got further with me than you ever will."

"Now, now, Doctor Crusher. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. He came
in for an unscheduled medical. I can't believe that didn't get alarm
bells ringing in your head."

"Yes, well. I thought you were just being co-operative, for once."

"Then what happened?"

"You know. It's in the report."

"Yes, but I want to know all of it, including the bits you left out."

"He asked me to dinner, in your quarters."

"And?"

"We had dinner! For god's sake."

He smiled. Oh yes blasphemy; she was hiding something. "What happened
after dinner?"

Beverly let out a breath of annoyance. "We danced."

"You did what?" he asked with incredulity.

"We danced and talked and it was very...pleasant."

"I am sure you can find a better word for it than that."

"Alright, it was intimate, arousing, erotic, whatever!"

"That sounds more like me. And then what happened?"

"We stopped dancing and we talked some more."

"Beverly, you are making this very difficult. What did you talk
about?"

"You talked. I listened. You said you wanted us to get 'closer.' It
was very intimate. Then you...I mean. . . he kissed me."

"And how was that?"

"It was very pleasant."

"Oh no, we are not back to just 'pleasant' are we?"

"Unlike my husband, I don't usually kiss and tell, Jean-Luc."

He brushed her comment aside. "Did he succeed in getting 'closer' to
you?"

"Do you want to know if he succeeded in seducing me?"

"Yes, I do."

"Well," she sighed coyly, "I'll put it this way. I know what you like,
and what you don't like." She shifted to look at him. "Do you want
proof?"

"Now I know you are lying." He laughed.

"You can believe what you like, Jean-Luc, but your double, having
learnt all he needed to, went home one hell of a happy man."

He remained silent.

"What's the matter, nothing to say?" she teased.

Picard sat pondering what she had told him. "I was just wondering
about what happened between you and my double. I guess I am feeling a
little dismayed by it all, even a little bit betrayed."

"You feel betrayed..." Beverly felt fury envelope her. "Jean-Luc, how
could you ever doubt my loyalty after what I had to do to get you that
shuttle on Torman Five? That bloody Ferengi Solok." She shuddered.
"You have no idea of the depths of depravity of the male Ferengi. The
things I had to do to get us on that shuttle to Celtris Three still
haunt me."

"All you had to do was stroke his ears and be nice to him," he said,
dismissive.

"Jean-Luc, it took me a week to get the smell of that little troll off
of my body. And what was the first thing you said to me when I got
back to the bar?"

"I don't rightly remember."

"Well, I do. The first thing you asked me was if we got the shuttle.
After what I had to do with that little gnome, we should have asked
for our own fucking starship!"

"Well, I didn't really enjoy being tortured by Gul Madred either!" he
said sarcastically.

She looked him dead in the eye. "My dear captain, as I look back and
remember the face of that Ferengi as he huffed and puffed his way to
fulfilment on top of me, I can honestly say. . . you got the better deal
there, by far." She turned her head away from him dismissively.

Jean-Luc sat back. This was news to him. He had no idea that Daimon
Solok had demanded such a high price in return for transport into
Cardassian space. But did he really foolishly believe that a Ferengi
would not demand payment in full for smuggling such a risky human
cargo? His mind returned to what she had told him. Just what had that
slimy little cretin done to her and even worse forced her to do to
him? His hands tightened into fists as he imagined Solok with Beverly
and her revulsion as she had done god knows what to please the
Daimon—his thoughts took a sudden turn there. Beverly had not done
this for Starfleet alone. She had given her body to that loathsome
toad of a Ferengi in payment for passage aboard that shuttle for him.
Guilt hit him like a blow. He had not directly asked her to do it, but
he knew he had left her with very little choice and he had
deliberately turned a blind eye to it all. He watched her now as she
gazed listlessly at the cavern wall.

"Beverly, I am sorry."

She stirred and looked back to him. "What? Sorry for what?"

"I had no idea that Daimon Solok had done that to you."

She sighed. "I'm sorry I brought it up. I had no intention of ever
telling you about that."

"Have you spoken to anyone else about it?" he inquired, trying to be
delicate.

"You mean Deanna?" She shook her head. "No. I just. . .  I just couldn't.
It was all so humiliating...allowing someone to use my body as payment
for services rendered. I felt like a whore."

He watched as her eyes squeezed shut and a tear rolled down the side
of her face. "Beverly," he said softly, his fingers gently wiping away
the tears. "If I had known what Solok was going to do to you, I would
have phasered the twisted little bastard right then and there. I would
never have allowed him to touch you. Please believe that. I was just
so caught up in our mission that ..."

Beverly moved towards his touch, giving herself over to the soothing
sensation of his fingers on her skin. "I know," she said gently. "I
know."

The atmosphere between them grew heavy. Jean-Luc ran a finger along
her jaw and then traced the outline of her lips, as soft as a whisper.
Caressing her seemed so natural, so totally right. He realized that
ever since the incident on Caldos after her Nana's death, Beverly had
physically withdrawn from him. Gone were the occasional little touches
to his arm, the 'accidental' contact between them when they were
alone together. He found he missed those tiny intimacies more than he
cared to admit. "I feared I had lost you for good after your Nana
died," he said softly.

He felt her tense next to him. "Ronin," she said bitterly.

"Yes."

"You know, he was capable of giving me pleasure as I'd never
experienced it before."

Picard's fingers stilled as he listened. "Go on."

"Jean-Luc, he knew exactly what I wanted. . .  When he made love to me the
experience was unadulterated pleasure. A lover who knew what you
wanted without words, without inhibition, he knew my body better than
I did. When he merged with me it was like using an opiate, the same
rush of feeling, the same all over ecstasy."

He remembered her disclosure earlier about feeling the need to use
illicit substances to evoke sensation. "He was like a drug to you?"

"Yes, yes he was, the same peak of rapture and then the bliss of not
feeling, not caring. I honestly thought I couldn't live without him.
To be separated from him, even for an hour was like. . . "

"Being an addict in need of a fix?"

"Yes. Exactly. I think Ronin chose that on purpose, as a way to
control me. He must have realized the way my body had reacted to those
chemicals in the past and replicated it, stimulating the neurons in my
brain, releasing the same endorphins, trying to get me hopelessly
addicted to him." She brought her hand up to rest on his thigh. "He
would have succeeded too, if it wasn't for you."

He took her hand in his, it was icy cold and he tenderly warmed it,
rubbing gently to try and get the circulation back. He knew that time
was running out for her. She was having trouble staying conscious.

"Jean-Luc," Beverly said softly. "I want you to do something for me."

He leaned closer. "Yes?"

"If I asked you to, would you kiss me?"

His answer was to lie down next to her and slowly lower his head to
brush his lips against hers. She closed her eyes and whispered his
name as softly as a prayer. Minos was forgotten as he deepened the
kiss and felt her respond to him. For a moment he gave in to the sweet
intensity of sensation that only Beverly could arouse in him.

He felt her lips break away from his and unwilling to let her go
completely he brushed his lips against her cheeks and then the velvet
softness of her eyelids.

When she spoke, her voice wavered with emotion. "Jean-Luc, I am ready
to tell you now."

"Tell me what?"

"What you wanted to know," she almost whispered.

But he already knew what she was going to say, what she had told him a
thousand times before without words. "I love you too," he said simply.

And Beverly closed her eyes.

---

It was the gentle hum of sickbay that woke her. Beverly stretched
delicately and felt the tenderness in her arm as her newly knitted
bones protested. Her eyes snapped open. Good God! I'm alive.

"Doctor Crusher, you are awake."

Beverly smiled at the sound of Dr. Selar's voice. "Yes it would appear
so. How long have I been asleep?"

"You have been asleep for exactly 12 hours and 14 minutes."

Beverly sat up slowly, still feeling very weak. She pushed her hair
away from her face. "I feel like hell."

"Yes, that would be a very apt human description of your experience.
You received distal fractures to the radius and ulna and a transverse
fracture of the humerus. These have been repaired, of course. There
was also a severe laceration to your upper thigh that narrowly missed
the femoral artery. You lost nearly twenty percent of your total blood
volume. The resulting hypovolemic shock almost proved fatal."

Beverly laughed grimly. "Well, I guess I am lucky that I got beamed to
sickbay in time."

Selar began to scan Beverly with her medical tricorder. "The fact that
Captain Picard had the presence of mind to apply a tourniquet slowed
the blood loss and made your survival until transport possible." She
finished her scan and looked back to Beverly. "Your body has been
through major trauma. I suggest you rest, but other than that, I feel
you are well enough to be discharged."

Beverly smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Doctor."

Selar moved away and then turned back to Beverly. "One more thing
Doctor, the captain asked to be notified as soon as you regained
consciousness. Shall I notify him or would you prefer to speak to
him yourself?"

Beverly bit her lip. Oh hell, Jean-Luc. Her head reeled. The secret
things she had told him. The things he had told her. . . It would be much
easier for them all round if she had died. She pulled herself
together. "I will notify Captain Picard, Selar. Thank you."

The Vulcan arched her eyebrow. "As you wish, Doctor," she said before
turning away.


Back in her quarters, Beverly showered and changed in a casual dress.
She had just sat down to rest her still aching leg when the door chime
had rung out. Beverly tensed. It could only be Jean-Luc. At the
thought of him, she felt conflicting emotions race through her. What
in god's name was she going to say to him? The whole incident on Minos
had made her feel vulnerable, raw, like her nerve endings had been
scraped over gravel. She was emotionally paralysed with the newly
discovered depth of her feelings for him. She wasn't ready for this.
She wasn't ready to face him yet.

The chime sounded again.

Beverly took a deep breath. It was obvious he wasn't going to leave
and she couldn't let him stand outside her door forever. Seconds
ticked over and she braced herself. "Come in," she said.

Jean-Luc entered and stood in the door way. His grey eyes looked over
her as if he was still trying to convince himself that she was
actually alive, whole and healthy.

"Jean-Luc, please. Sit down." Oh god, now she sounded so ridiculously
formal.

He sat on the sofa across from her. "I went to sickbay to check on
you. Dr. Selar advised me that you had been discharged. Are you sure
you are feeling better? Your injuries were quite serious."

"I..." she hesitated. "I'm fine." Then she stood. "Can I get you
something to drink? I was about to make myself some tea."

"Tea would be lovely, thank you," he said gently.

She made her way over to the replicator, trying hard not to favour her
uninjured leg.

"My god, Beverly, you're limping!"

She heard the concern in his voice and felt her composure slipping
away. "It's nothing," she said shakily, "Just residual muscle
stiffness from the laceration. It was quite deep." She heard herself
waver. She cleared her throat and went on in a detached professional
tone of voice. "It will lessen over time as the muscle heals and
regains strength. I suppose that . . . " She stopped suddenly as she felt
his hands on her shoulders. His hands stayed there for a moment,
softly caressing, before sliding down her arms.

"Please, Beverly, go and sit down. I will get the tea," he said
softly.

She turned and waited for him to move out of her way. But he stayed
where he was. His hands warm on the tops of her arms, his fingers
moving in slow intimate circles.

"I don't think I feel like tea anymore," she said softly.

She heard his breath catch in his throat.

She didn't know what to say to him now. In a moment on Minos,
everything that she had come to accept as the rules in their
relationship had shifted. She had no idea where they stood now. Surely
he had to realize that she had spoken thinking that she would never
return to the Enterprise...or to him. She was so tired of struggling
with this. God alone knew how hard she had tried to flee from him. But
in the end he had caught her and that fact frightened her more than
any death could.

She closed her eyes, remembering the feel of his lips, so soft and
gentle as they had whispered over her mouth and face. Did he
understand that at the end the only thing she had wanted to take with
her as she passed out of this life was the memory of the soft caress
of his lips on hers, that the last words she had ever wanted to utter
were her words of love for him.

She felt the bitter sting of tears in her eyes.

His fingertips brushed her face, gently wiping them away. . .  and for a
heartbeat she was back on Minos, desperately trying to stay alive,
finding out that in the end, nothing else mattered to her, only this
man.

She tried to speak, her voice a tortured whisper. "I thought that I
was going to die down there, that I'd never be with you again." She
shook her head vehemently, her voice growing hoarse. "Can't you see
that? I would never have admitted that I lov—"

His mouth was on hers, silencing her words.

Just this once, she promised herself. Just this one time I am going to
stop running.

She looked into the eyes of the man she loved. The chase was over. He
had won.

He gently ran his tongue over her bottom lip, begging her to let him
inside, to taste her even more deeply. Beverly opened her mouth under
his and heard his low moan as he pulled her closer. So many sensations
swept over her, the wonderful feel of his mouth, the gentle caress of
his tongue against hers, the scent of him, so excitingly masculine.
The way his hands ran possessively down her back and onto her
backside, pulling her closer. She felt one of his hands on the smooth
skin of her thigh through her dress. She couldn't get enough of him;
she moved her hips against his and felt the satisfying swell of his
erection.

She wanted to feel him, the man, his touch, his kiss.

He paused only long enough to take her hand and lead her beside the
bed.

His fingers slowly lowered the strap of her dress, his mouth
following, kissing a trail down her shoulder. Beverly let her head
fall back and he ran his kisses along her neck and down to the other
shoulder. His finger slid under the other strap, easing it down her
arm. Her dress slipped away like liquid silk to pool at her feet and
she heard the intake of his breath as she stood naked before him.
"Beautiful," he whispered reverently. "You are so beautiful."

Beverly helped him remove his clothes, tugging at the jacket and
undoing the fastening of his trousers, her hands running over his firm
skin, the length of his naked body feeling so good against her flesh.

"Can you feel what you are doing to me?" he murmured as her hips
pressed against his intimately.

Beverly expelled a soft sigh. "It would be difficult not to," she
confessed.

She felt his smile against her cheek. His mouth moved down her throat
and his tongue lightly flicked over the pulse at the base of her neck,
before coming back up to claim her mouth once more.

Beverly groaned in protest as his mouth left hers for the moment it
took to settle them both on the bed. Then his mouth was back on hers
and she was lost. His hands stroked her body and she felt his lips
kiss a trail down towards the swell of her breasts. His lips were hot
against her skin and a ripple of delight ran through her when his
mouth finally found her breast, his thumbs skimming the underside of
it as he suckled. He turned his attention to the other peak, his
tongue circling her nipple wetly before drawing it into his mouth,
tugging on the sensitive, swollen skin, his tongue running backwards
and forwards over it, exciting every nerve ending.

"Does that feel good?" he asked softly, and Beverly could only nod
hungrily as he lowered his head again.

She felt his fingers gliding down, dipping to cup the coppery curls at
the apex of her thighs.

Beverly felt the liquid heat begin to pulse as his fingers slipped
between her legs and inside her, she heard his low throaty growl as he
discovered just how ready she was for him. She shivered as his seeking
mouth went lower and lower; she felt the feather light caresses of his
lips along her stomach, quickly followed by the piercing dart of
sensation as his tongue entered her.

Beverly arched, gasping as his seeking mouth found that part of her
that eagerly awaited him. "Oh god, Jean-Luc." Beverly could feel the
spiraling heat of her arousal and allowed her breath to escape in a
sudden rush. "I want you."

Beverly felt him move back up over her with frustrating slowness.
"Where do you want me?" he asked huskily.

"I want you—inside me," she whispered. "Now."

He lowered himself between her parted thighs, his eyes holding hers.

She gave a groan of satisfaction when buried himself in her and she
wetly enclosed his length. He started to move, slowly at first, and
then faster with plunging thrusts, going deeper as his hunger for her
grew. His chest rasped against her breasts, and he made her gasp and
groan with pleasure as her hips met his. Her fingernails dug into his
shoulders and she felt his breathing become ragged as his orgasm
approached. She felt the ripple of her own climax, the flood of
sensation as her muscles spasmed around his shaft, the intensity of it
pulling her down.

His eyes opened and Beverly watched the emotion written in them as he
lost himself in the pleasure she was giving him. She heard him groan
again and again with each shuddering stab of his body as he found his
release.

The shared sensation enclosed them. There were no more secrets now.

Jean-Luc gently brushed her hair from her face. "I hope I didn't hurt
you," he said softly.

She smiled against his neck. "No, you didn't hurt me."

He rolled onto his side taking her with him, keeping her facing him in
the circle of his arms. "I told you that you weren't going to die," he
said teasingly.

"I still say that I should have," she said obstinately. "I am a doctor
I know when I am about to die."

"I gave you an order, Beverly, you wouldn't dare disobey it and die on
me," he said, sounding entirely confident.

She made a rude noise. "Jean-Luc, that is the stupidest thing I have
ever heard you say. When have I ever obeyed an order of yours when I
thought I knew better?"

He didn't answer right away. She felt his hand slide up to fondle her
breast before he continued. "But Doctor, it would appear that in this
case I was right, because here you are, with me," he kissed her, "and
I can assure you that you are," he nibbled on her ear, "most
definitely," his mouth slid down her neck, "alive." He punctuated his
remark with a gentle bite on her shoulder.

Beverly opened her mouth to say more, but he stopped her with a kiss.
"You always have the last word, but not this time. No more arguments."

Beverly was silenced and his soft chuckle was smothered against her
breast. He savoured his verbal victory as they lay together. There was
just one more thing he had to know, that business with the alien
double. What the hell, he was on a winning streak, he might as well
ask. He stroked her hair, lulling her into a false sense of security.
"They say confession is good for the soul, Beverly. Are you going to
tell me the truth about what went on between you and my double?"

He watched as she smiled, a very lazy knowing smile.

Jean-Luc faltered. This was not good.

Beverly leaned towards him. Her fingers trailed down his chest, making
lazy circles around his navel, before travelling lower.

He groaned softly, his arousal automatic.

When she spoke, her tone was low and sultry. "Jean-Luc, you own the
most erotic and explicitly illustrated copy of the 'Tepulau Tersu Shau
- Kaush' I've ever seen."

He swallowed. He knew the book she meant—'Energize your Partner's
Passion'—the classic Vulcan sex manual.

Her tongue caressed his ear and she whispered, "The annotated
edition." Then she watched as her dart hit home.

He went pale.

"After that unforgettable evening, I took it as a keepsake." She
stared him in the eye, the imp of a smile on her lips. "Would you like
it back?"

And in his whole life, Jean-Luc had never been more at a loss for
something to say.

---

The End