The BLTS Archive- Jewelry and Bleeding Hearts: Strange Currencies by Trexphile (trxphile@cox.net) --- ARCHIVE: Yes to ASC. If you'd like this one, please ask me first. AUTHOR'S NOTES: This started out as an answer to zoinky's Valentine challenge many moons ago, then morphed into something else. The fifth and final part is not yet written, but after much angsting on my part, I decided to go ahead and post the four parts that are finished. I've attempted to write each part in a different style, utilizing varying POVs and tenses. DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns all. Song lyric acknowledgments will be included in the final post. June 2000 --- Wish I was invisible So I could climb through the telephone When it hurts my ears And it hurts my brain And it makes me feel too much Don't cut me down when I'm talking to you 'Cause I'm much too tall to feel that small Love is hot and love is cold I've been bought and I've been sold Love is rock and love is roll I just want someone to hold Hold me now, love --- She sits in her darkened ready room, idle. The monitor before her on the desk is blank but in her mind she can still see the face that frowned from it just a few minutes before. Why must he be this way? An aching fatigue permeates her very bones, leaving her paralyzed. She needs to rouse herself, to finish up the paperwork for the day, but her body and her brain are just too tired, too worn out. He's done this to her, made her feel this way. Why does he do this? Selfish, that's what he is. A selfish old man, grounded on a planet lightyears away. No more traipsing through the stars, no more the lone beacon of justice and freedom in the galaxy, guiding his adoring, obedient crew with his wisdom and his experience and his "Make it so." That's her job now -- going boldly forth to increase the quality of life for all with her ship and her medkit. Why can't he just let her do her job? Once more, a simple "How are you?" had segued into veiled accusations and dark looks. She shouldn't have told him about the leave she'd decided to cancel. Starfleet had assigned a new mission for the Pasteur and, although time wasn't really of the essence, it still seemed foolish to travel all the way back to Earth when they were already so close to the system they needed to visit. Another month or two and she would have been free to take her leave. She'd seen him make the same sort of decision many times in the past. But of course, *she's* not Jean-Luc Picard. She loves him still. She can't help but love him. Since that night in Santa Marta ten years ago, she's never looked back, never regretted that she became his lover. They've shared so much, grown so very close during their long talks and arguments and passionate nights. It's been hard but she's finally released all of her fears and misgivings to him, opened herself more to him than to anyone else in her life. Which is why his behavior hurts so much now. She finally rises from her chair and exits the ready room, pulling on her cloak of command. The night shift is already on duty and her first officer rises from the command chair. "I'll be in my quarters, Commander," she says and leaves the bridge quickly. In the turbolift, she lets the façade crumble. She leans her forehead against the wall and remembers days gone by when she had friends around her all the time. Friends. Deanna and Will. Geordi, Data. Even Worf. And Jean-Luc. Most especially Jean-Luc. A captain can't have friends. She knows this now, understands so painfully why Jean-Luc kept himself so aloof from the rest of his crew. It's something they only hint at in the command classes, that they never spell out in the job description. But it's something that every captain discovers that first day they sit in that chair. In order to stay there, you must maintain a constant air of reliability and confidence. Letting yourself get too close to those you command is too dangerous -- you can't let them know your real fears and insecurities. After only a year on the Pasteur, she ran into Kathryn Janeway, recently returned from the Delta Quadrant. A friendly cup of coffee turned into a long night of shared emotions while Kathryn poured out all the frustrations she'd endured while trying to bring her people home. And repeatedly, she had come back to how hard it had been to stay distant, to keep that mask of control intact. She had brought her crew home but had sacrificed so much of her personal life in doing so. And Beverly is now making those same sacrifices. She makes her way from the turbolift to her quarters. She doesn't turn up the lights when she enters. Methodically she changes into her sleep clothes, anticipating the void of sleep, trying unsuccessfully to calm her thoughts. Jean-Luc knows better. He knows the emotional toll that command takes. Yet he continues to create even more distance between them. When she accepted this posting, it was with his assurance that he would be there in spirit if not in presence, giving her his support and his unconditional love. And now he has abandoned her. She is so very alone. She passes the desk and sees the message light flashing on the monitor. She hesitates, then sits down and presses the button. His face appears and she flinches. What now? He looks away for some time before speaking. //Beverly, I've been a fool. I'm so very sorry for what I said before. Please accept the most heartfelt apology from this stubborn old man. I was wrong to say what I did, to ask more from you than I deserve. You are doing a wonderful...// He stops and looks away again. //I miss you so much. I'm jealous of Starfleet right now. I can't deny that. They have you and I don't. You're out there and I'm here and it's so lonely. I miss your face in the mornings and your humming in the bathroom and your soft hand on my shoulder when you pass by and even your snoring when you lie too long on your back. I just... I want you. I want to roll over in the night and hold you to me. I want to smell your hair, I want to see you bite your lip while you're concentrating, I want to taste the chocolate chip cookies that you always manage to burn.// She is crying now, silently, and she reaches out to brush her fingers across the image of his cheek. //I need a second chance. God, but I need a third and fourth and fifth. Please. Please forgive me. I know how hard it is for you out there, how much harder it is for you than for me. I won't forget again. Just... come home when you can. I love you.// She keeps her hand on the screen long after his image is gone. She rises then and changes back into her uniform. Her first officer looks up in surprise when she enters the bridge. She takes the vacated command chair and speaks to the helm. "Lieutenant, set a course for Earth, maximum warp." --- I slipped and fell Did I fall But I want to feel I want to feel it now Now with love comes strange currencies And here is my appeal: I need a chance, a second chance, a third chance, a fourth chance, a word, a signal, a nod, a little breath Just to fool myself, catch myself, and make it real --- The End