SquidgeWorld Archive

They finished their drinks in silence. Empty glasses found their way to the table. Stogies were smoked until only nubs of the expensive hand-wrapped lengths remained in the now-cold ashtray. The moon rose high into the sky and the stars tried desperately to shine through the false lights of the city.

Neither knew how much time had passed. It took too much effort to look at watches, and truly neither of them really cared. At last, Denny broke the silence.

"You okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seemed...different this episode. I don't know...quieter. More reserved."

"Then you didn't see the scene with Marlene in my office."

"No, damn, missed that one. Explains the scratches."

"Yes."

"I meant...quieter with me."

Alan looked across at him. "Well, now that you mention it, Denny, you seemed different as well."

"I did? In what way?"

"You seemed more...well, more...with it."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I wonder why."

"That's what I've been trying to figure out."

They fell into silence again until Alan stifled a yawn.

"We should go home."

"I agree."

But neither of them moved.

"What's changed?"

The question startled Alan out of his reverie and he looked across the small table. "I'm too tired to understand the question."

"What's changed in you?"

"In me?" Alan shrugged. "I'm no different."

"Yes, you are. And it started right around the time I had Barry draw up that change to my living will."

"Oh, God, Denny, we've been over this already," Alan groaned. "I agreed to it, okay? End of story."

"No, that was the end of the script, not the end of the story."

Alan leaned back in the chair. All he wanted to do was close his eyes. "Denny, I don't know what you're trying to get me to say."

"It bothers you. Admit it. It bothers you."

"What does?"

"Me dying."

He raised his head and looked at him. "Well, of course it does."

"But what bothers you more is you dying."

Alan sat up straighter, his eyes never leaving his friend's face. "Come again?"

"You didn't have a problem with being the one I chose to end my life. Not after I'd asked you properly. What you had a problem with was me ending your life."

"You were far too giddy."

"Not over killing you, Alan. Over you."

"I must be losing my mind."

"No, that would be me."

"Spit it out, Denny. I'm about to fall out of this chair."

"Why don't you want to talk about your living will? Why won't you tell me what your arrangements are? You say there's no one else and yet you guard it like it's the secret of the universe."

"Living wills are just another enterprise for unscrupulous attorneys who want to charge you hundreds or thousands of dollars for printing out a document and making you sign it."

"Did you just say...Enterprise?"

"I mean, if I'm going to be lying in a hospital bed here in our grand city, I'm certain I'll have the best of care and when the time comes whoever's responsible for me will make the right decision. There will be a box to check off and the tubes will be removed and I'll die."

"A box to...Chekov?"

"I mean, look at Shirley, she's nearing your age and she doesn't have a living will. The thought of lying there tied up to machines doesn't seem to phase her in the least."

"Phaser? I'm stunned."

"Besides, if I'm unconscious it means my mind's not really there anyway, that I'm just an inanimate bag of flesh and bones and the doctor will know that."

"Doctor..." Denny's eyes widened. "Bones?"

"It's like that friend of mine, Lou. He took his mother off the ventilator and her sister decided to sue. Lou is penniless."

"Her sister decided to...Sulu. Alan!"

"What?"

"You're doing that on purpose!"

"I don't what you're talking about," he said, chin raised defiantly as he looked back out over the wall. "Anyway, as you can see, our best laid plans unravel. Can you understand that?"

Denny looked like he was trying to solve the biggest crossword puzzle in the universe. At last the answer seemed to come to him and he narrowed his eyes. "Best laid plans unravel...can...Vulcan!"

"Hm?"

Denny closed his eyes and shook his head. "This conversation is a trek through insanity."

"Denny, did you just use the word Trek?" At that moment a bright streak of white moved from one horizon to the other. "Hey, did you see that shooting Star?"

"I'm outta here. When you can stop making references to sixties science fiction shows, then we'll talk. I'm going home."

Denny walked back into his office. Alan smirked. "Beam me up," he whispered.

Sometimes it was good having an icon as your co-star.