The BLTS Archive - Points of View Songs in the Dark: Solo II by Mariel (mjlisi@cgocable.net) --- "You are my fire, My one desire, Believe when I say I want it that way." --- Jean Luc noticed very quickly that he had stopped measuring time as he once had. No longer was it stardates, or shifts, or even hours, that marked the passage of time. Now he measured it in increments of missed breakfasts, missed talks, missed meetings, missed smiles.... The ship had become an empty place. His *heart* was an empty place, without her to fill it. A shiver of regret passed through him, and he turned his chair around abruptly. The ready room was quiet and, having lowered the lights earlier, nearly dark. Shift was over, but there was no incentive to leave and go to his quarters. His thoughts were such that he could think them here or there, it didn't matter. They would be, he knew, just as bad either place, and to move into the light of the bridge seemed too much. He moved restlessly and looked out the viewport. In the reflection of the glass, his mind's eye watched as once again he replayed that pivotal moment that had landed him in this situation... he watched and again felt the delicious tension that had arisen and remained between them all that evening. Again, he took her wine glass and placed it gently on the table before turning to her, knowing what he was going to do, his heart thudding in anticipation. They had fallen into one another's arms, unthinking and uncaring of anything but each other. For one brilliantly illuminated moment he had thought that here, at last, he had what he wanted. She filled him with a fire that consumed him. She was his heart, she was his soul, she was his one desire. And God, he had wanted it to be that way. The feel of her in his arms, the taste of her, the knowledge that now, after all this time....He grimaced and forced himself to relive for the thousandth time what he wanted to forget: he had remembered Jack, and he had been filled with fear. Suddenly, it had felt as though it was happening too fast, without enough thought. Did she truly know what this would mean? Did he? And so he had backed away, apologizing, acting as though he couldn't tell that she had wanted him as badly as he had wanted her. His body aching for hers, he had turned from her, hiding his desire, pretending it was yet another mistake.... It had not been the reaction she had expected. He knew that she had taken his apology as a rejection of the worst kind. The 'why?' in her eyes had burned his soul, and after she had left with her question unanswered, he had sat a long time wondering at himself. Why had he moved away? What did he want? How did he want *them* to be? --- "That we are two worlds apart Can't reach to your heart, When you say, that I want it that way Tell me, why... Ain't nothing but a heartache Tell me, why... Ain't nothing but a mistake Tell me, why... I never wanna hear you say I want it that way." --- Listening to her calmly discuss her decision to leave, he had almost shouted his objections. She had it all wrong, this wasn't how he wanted it, this wasn't it at all. Almost. But because he hadn't been certain how he *did* want it, he had remained silent, nodding his head, saying empty words he couldn't even remember now. Perhaps, a small, frightened part of him said, it would be easier with her far away... He placed his elbows on the arms of the chair and placed his chin on steepled fingers and stared across the room to the door that led to the bridge. Gods, and she was far away. Too far away to tell her how he missed her, how the light had gone out of his days when she had left, how nothing seemed *right* in his life anymore, no matter that the ship was fine, the crew was fine, the damned mission fine...And if he told her, would she believe him? "You *want* it this way." Her parting words accused him. Fighting the urge to cover his ears against words spoken so long ago, he grimaced, wanting to scream out against the lie of them. What he wanted was *her*. Every bit as much as he had wanted her the night of their betrayal. But he was frightened. Frightened of the way he lost himself in her, frightened that his love for her had so easily let him betray himself, and Jack, and all the mores he held to be correct, on that night of forbidden lovemaking. Now, so many, many years later, the love and passion were still there, and it still frightened him. Could he handle loving her openly and finally? What would it do to him? What would it say about him as a man? --- Tell me why? Ain't nothing but a heartache Tell me why? Ain't nothing but a mistake I never wanna hear you say I want it that way. --- More weeks passed with no word. Slowly, silently, he plodded through his days, performing his duty, ever the leader, the diplomat, the explorer. Alone. And each day, he reached for the comm and almost contacted her. And each day, he let his hand drop uselessly on the desk, in a betrayal of another sort: the betrayal of everything he felt. Looking in the mirror, he saw the changes in himself and was helpless to prevent the outward show of his inner destruction. Drawn, tired, he retreated into himself, becoming more remote, more controlled, more alone. A year passed, and the anniversary of Jack's death rolled round once more. Consciously, he mourned the passing of his friend, but deep inside he knew that was no longer why he grieved, nor why this day held significance. Jack was no longer the ghost that haunted him. The day was now branded forever as the day he had watched his heart, his passion, leave him. And all because he had wanted it that way. Hadn't he? His fire and desire for life now lived safely tucked away on a small, remote planet, where it couldn't disturb his thoughts and prod his dreams... Sitting in the darkness of his quarters, he lifted a silent toast to the woman he loved. Then, without thinking, without pausing to question the whys, he tapped in the communications codes he'd long ago seared into his memory, tearing apart the world of 'almosts' that had dogged his days since she'd left. He knew what he wanted now. --- "Am I your fire? Your one desire? Yes I know: it's too late, But I want it that way." "Now I can see That we're falling apart From the way that it used to be, yeah No matter the distance I want you to know That deep down inside of me You are my fire... --- A lot can take place in a year; people grow..older, wiser... they experience things that change them. He wasn't certain what he expected to see when her face appeared. Happiness? Surprise? Confusion? Did she feel for him as he was sure she once had? Could he salvage anything of what they had once had together? It had not taken many words before he realized that the distance between them could be measured in more than light years. The discomfort, the stiltedness of their conversation, frightened him. Still, he drove himself on, saying the words his heart dictated, the words she had deserved to hear years and years ago, but which he had been too foolish, too scared, too stupid to say. As the conversation eased a bit, and they began to tentatively find common, comfortable ground, Picard drew a deep breath. "Beverly, I need to say that I'm sorry. I miss you. It's my fault we're not the friends we were. There are no good reasons for my not having contacted you, other than fear. It's my fault we weren't the lovers we ought to have been. I want you to know how much I regret that." When she frowned and opened her mouth to speak, he raised a hand and said into the viewscreen, "Beverly, I know that things have changed between us, but there's something I never told you that you deserved to hear, and that I need to tell you now, because it's still as true now as it was when you left the ship...." "Jean Luc..." He overrode her again, knowing he had to somehow tell her that she was his fire, his one desire, that he wanted and cared for her, that he had from the moment he had laid eyes on her, and that he had never stopped, no matter how hard he'd tried, no matter how fast he'd run from it, or how far he'd tried to distance himself. Years ago, on the night they had shared in the cabin, he had been unable to escape what he felt for her and, all these years later, he couldn't escape what he felt for her now. He had to tell her that somewhere deep down inside himself was an emotion he had to simply admit. No matter what it said about himself, no matter what it said about what they had done to Jack. "I love you." When she didn't respond, he continued, stumbling over the words as he tried to explain himself. "I've always known what I wanted, and been able to make what I wanted obvious. Except when it came to you. There was Jack...and Wesley...and the guilt...and my career...and fear I might hurt you the way he had, and...I knew what you meant to me, but...." He swept a hand over his head, then held her eyes with his steadily. "I want you in my life, Beverly. I want us together, the way it should be. I want us to pick up from where we were just before you left...that night...." His eyes were remorseful as he apologized, "I could have avoided so much heartache on both our parts, if I'd just allowed myself to act on how I felt. It was a terrible mistake." There were tears in her eyes, making them shimmer like sapphires in firelight, and he felt a glimmer of hope until she shook her head and said in a whispered voice, "I've got to go, Jean Luc, I'm sorry. I'm going to be late for an appointment. I've got to leave now...This isn't the time. I'm sorry..." Her having to leave was a wretched lie, and they both knew it, but Jean Luc nodded. "I understand, Beverly," he said, his voice low and defeated. "It's late. Too late. I'm sorry, too." Too late. The words echoed around him as, the transmission terminated, he sat slumped in his chair, sorrow welling up within him. He closed his eyes against his feelings and inhaled deeply. It was done. Exhaling audibly, he stood. He had done what he needed to do, and he would go on. No more 'almosts' between them. He had told her how he wanted it to be between them, and her life no longer had room for his feelings for her. There was a weight lifted from him that he had not expected to feel, a lightness that, despite the fact he had been rejected, he felt empowered by. No more 'almosts'. He wanted it that way. --- Tell me why? Ain't nothing but a heartache. Tell me why? Ain't nothing but a mistake. I never wanna hear you say I want it that way. --- On Caldos, Beverly sat motionlessly, staring at the viewscreen. He loved her. And he had said so. Now what? She sat motionless, hands clenched in her lap, staring sightlessly at the viewscreen that had, for a moment, held the image of her heart's desire. She had almost told him she still felt the same as he. She knew very well that she loved him still, and that he was the only one to thrill her with a fire that nothing, neither time nor distance, could quench. Almost. She looked around her beloved house, thinking of all she had gone through here, all she had learned about herself and her feelings and her strengths. She had almost been happy here. Almost. Reaching over, she opened a comm link. When his face appeared, she swept away years of 'almosts' and asked one question. "What do you really want, Jean Luc?" Feeling the fire return to his life, he nodded. "You. I'm on my way," he said, knowing that, finally, he was. Because he wanted it that way. --- "You are my fire My one desire You are...." --- The End