driftfleet | (no subject)

Who: Beverly Crusher and you
Broadcast: Network - Video
Action: Blue Fish
When: September 1

[There's a strangely familiar cold that has settled in her bones, a dreadful chill that disorients her in the first few moments that she's awake. Her first thought is that something went wrong - very wrong - as they passed through the temporal distortion, but then... as she sits up and takes in her surroundings, the memories all come back in a flood. Atroma has brought Beverly back, a little older, a little blonder, and with a new Starfleet uniform.

Or maybe I never left, she thinks. This is not the Marsiva, these are her quarters aboard the Blue Fish, and none of her things look as if they've been moved. Though admittedly, her memories of Drift Fleet seem distant. By her reckoning, it's been three years since she's seen this room.

Not that "time" really means much, considering what's happened in the past few days.

The communicator rests where she left it on the bedside table. When she picks it up, she finds it's full of unread messages, crewmates and friends wondering where she is, each message sounding more alarmed than the last. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she checks today's date: September first.]

Damn!

[Immediately, she sends a message to the network, via video:]

This is Dr. Crusher of the... SS Blue Fish. It seems our gracious captors sent me home for a while. I'm back now, and I'm safe, and I'm sorry to everyone who was trying to contact me this month. I'll be on the Blue Fish if you need me.

[There's a pause, as if she's about to say something else, but then she simply gives them a small smile, one that doesn't quite reach her eyes.]

Thank you.

[The feed cuts off and after a moment, she decides to head for the kitchen. Not that she's particularly hungry but - there's a good chance that's where she'll find at least a few of her crewmates.]

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[She nods, though she can't quite stop staring at him yet as if she's not sure she believes what she sees.]

It's... odd right now, trying to reconcile two sets of memories. Only yesterday I was - well. [She glances around the docking bay.] Is there a more private place we can talk?

Of course. [He places his hand behind her shoulders and guides her down the corridor.] You do not mind visiting my quarters, I trust?

No, no, that will do just fine. Thank you.

[A lot of this, being back in the fleet, feels surreal, but not him. His guidance is reassuring, something steady to lean into after the chaos of the last few days.]

Think nothing of it.

[Once they arrive, he'll gesture for her to enter first, following her into the room.

It's comfortable, if a little sparsely decorated. The basic layout of the room is still very much the ship's default, though he has made it much more colorful in a very literal sense. It's probably not surprising to Beverly that Finrod tends to be drawn to bold colors and wherever he could, be it a blanket, a carpet, or pillow, he's popped some in. It's also pretty apparent that most of the money he's spent has gone into books and wine, since, by now, his collections of both are decently impressive.]

Make yourself at home, please. I have little enough to offer as a host, but you need only name it and it is yours.

[Not surprising at all - in fact, his quarters look very much like she imagined it might. It would be no trouble at all to make herself at home here. Indeed, for a moment she is distracted with reading some of the titles of his book collection before turning back to him.]

I don't need anything. Simply your company is enough.

[They, too, are likely very much like she expects- an eclectic mix of poetry, philosophy, and military history.]

Gracious as always.

[He sits down on the bed, watching her expression.]

I hope there was time for some rest, at least, in those three years.

There was some, yes.

[With only a slight hesitation, she sits down next to him and takes his hand.]

Do you remember the Borg?

[They rarely speak of the calibrations and even now she's loathe to do so, but to have someone who would at least partially understand is important to her right now.]

[He gives her hand a reassuring squeeze.]

I do. [He says no more aloud, but his tone is full of apprehension.]

[Softly:] They came back.

[The wariness in his expression shifts to outright concern. He sits in silence for a moment, trying to decide just what to say.] And you were caught up in the conflict, I have no doubt.

We were. Everything is... okay now. I think. But...

[She frowns.]

Jean-Luc... he was so different.

[He thinks he has an idea without asking; something about this is very relatable in a distinctly unpleasant way. But he asks anyway.]

How so?

He was... violent. Vengeful. And I know why, I do, but it was still so hard to see him like that. And I couldn't reach him.

[He lets out a long, slow breath.]

It amazes me how little some things change- how similar we truly are. I am sorry, both for your sake and for his.

Me too. We won the battle but... I suspect he has a long way to go yet before he truly wins his personal one.

[She rests her head on his shoulder.]

I wish they had given me at least a little more time before they brought me back. Everything happened so quickly.

Edited 2016-11-06 01:14 (UTC)

I wonder if such battles are ever truly won, or if they are only continually fought, with the battle lines redrawn from time to time. [But that's probably not what she wanted to hear. He puts his arm around her, a physical demonstration of emotional support.]

Forgive me. It is difficult for me to speak of such things objectively; my own experiences, and those of my kith and kin, color my viewpoint.

Perhaps you will have time here to think on things, before we find ourselves enveloped in our next adventure.

[Maybe not, but when has their friendship ever rested on telling the other only what they want to hear?]

Don't worry, there's nothing to forgive. You were only being honest.

[She settles in closer, drawing her legs up to the bed to sit more comfortably.]

The problem is, there might be too much time to think here.

Honest, but also perhaps overly dire. With time and effort, there is healing, even if scars remain, and if there is one thing I have always admired of humanity, it is your strength of spirit. And from what I gather of your friend, he shines brighter than most.

[He leans his head against hers.]

Fortunately, you have friends to keep you from dwelling too deeply in your own thoughts.

[It's true, Jean-Luc is one of the strongest people she knows. And perhaps that's why it took so long for them to realize how badly he'd been affected. All she can do now is hope he'll be open to therapy in the future.]

I do. Despite everything, it is truly a joy to see you again.

[You know, just in case you weren't aware of it already from her running into your arms.]

[He kind of got that idea. It's nice to hear it, all the same.]

As it is to see you- though the time apart has been much less for me. [But he was worried while she was gone.]

[Beverly squeezes his hand then shifts to look at him with a smile.]

We ought to celebrate our reunion, don't you think?

Edited 2016-11-23 03:13 (UTC)

[He grins.]

Of course! I have just the thing. [And he goes to his collection of wines, starting to thumb through them.]

Mmm. You read my mind.