THE LINK
by AOL Picard and Crusher Posters

DISCLAIMER: Paramount, deity that it is, owns everything - The Star Trek concept, the characters and any movie worth seeing. This story is fan fiction and was written for our amusement. Profits were not the goal, although if Paramount wanted to make an of fer....

Please remember, this was a group effort, written by a number of individuals with their own individual styles. Flaming is not necessary, but other comments may be posted at the Picard and Crusher board or sent via e-mail to Guinan333 where she will gladly  pass them along.

"Shall we dance?" she said slyly.

*******************
	Frustrated, Beverly tossed the medical clipboard onto her desk. Where were all the technological advancements that had been written about in the reports to Starfleet...the reports that recommended a research mission on this God-forsaken planet? From all that she had seen, Beverly had not been impressed: medications to be administered directly into the blood stream were injected through the use of needles; surgery was performed with sharp objects called *k'nika* -- meaning scalpel, roughly translated; and  psychological patients hadn't any hope of receiving *medical* attention. It was too similar to her text books on Pre-Eugenics medicine than she had expected. And, unless the medical technology improved over the next, say, month, there wasn't a chance in hell that she would go along with the recommendation for a first contact mission to Vire Four.
	With a start, Beverly looked up as there was a tap on her office door. "Come," she called. Smiling slightly, she thought of Jean-Luc and the Enterprise. 'One more month.'
	A young hospital intern entered. "Sorry to disturb you, Doctor," she said, "but there is a naval officer here to see you."
	Beverly furrowed her brow. "Naval officer?" The intern nodded. "Send him in. I'll see what he wants." She leant back in her chair, wondering what was happening. Starfleet had not positioned any undercover researchers in the planet's navy.
	A few seconds later, the door opened, revealing an impeccably cleaned and pressed dark blue naval uniform. Beverly followed the lines of the uniform: the long sleeves, the tailored jacket, the stiff, high collar...and the face of Jean-Luc Picard.
	The grin that spread over Beverly's features could not show the rush of happiness that she was feeling over just the sight of Jean-Luc Picard. She turned to the intern. "Thanks, Carrana. I can handle it from here."
	"Yes, ma'am." Carrana turned, closing the door behind her.
	As soon as the door closed, Beverly regarded Jean-Luc with an impish smile. "Changing military service, Captain?" She had adapted her cat-and-mouse tone.
	Picard tugged down on the jacket. "Not hardly. This costume was suggested by Commander Riker, so I would not be conspicuous," he said, allowing a lopsided grin. "I would hardly call three salutes and being called 'sir' by everyone inconspicuous."
	"Neither would I." Beverly folded her arms, her eyes dancing. "So, what brings a man like you into a place like this?"
    	Before Picard could even answer, klaxons blared and lights dimmed.  Alert sirens blasted through out the compound.  "Planetary Defense Commander Jumok to Dr. Crusher, are you there?  Urgent!"
   	"Yes, I am here!  What is going on?"
   	"As the highest ranking Starfleet officer stationed on the planet, you are hear by informed that we are under attack.  Repeat under atta--"  The speaker went dead silent. Suddenly. Ominously.  
	Picard and Crusher looked suddenly at each other, their telepathic link still binding them.	(Jean Luc, what is this?)  
	Then, a new voice was heard.  Picard recognized the accent immediately. It was Nausicaan.  His thoughts immediately went to his mechanical heart.
   	"I am B'jar of the Destroyer Izaa.  We know one Captain Picard is on this planet.  Give us his coordinates, or we will release a deadly toxin.  Life here will be extinguished within forty-eight hours.  We give you one hour to transfer the coordinates or deliver the captain.  Should you attempt subspace emergency channels, we will release the toxin and be long gone before help arrives. MUHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
	(How could they have found out ?)
	(I don't know, Beverly.  I came in a passenger freighter - nothing Fleet.  Only the people on the Enterprise knew...)
  	The two looked at each other.  That could mean only one thing.  Someone aboard USS Enterprise-D was a traitor.  But before either of them could say anything, the Nausicaan's voice came over the intercom again, giving Beverly an attack of the shivers.
  	"Are you going to send the undari up or choke on your own atmosphere ?"
   	(Beverly, I can't allow...)
   	"I know.  Be careful, my love."
  	"Nausicaan ship, this is Picard.  Beam me aboard."  	 As he disappeared in a shimmery cloud, his mind touched hers again.  (Beverly, I love you)

	"Dr. Crusher to Defense Commander Jumok."  
	"Yes, Dr. Crusher?"
	"Has the Destroyer Izaa left orbit yet?"
	"The ship went to warp speed thirty seconds ago, heading towards Cantacilla III"
	"I want a secure channel established immediately, get in touch with  Commander Riker of the Enterprise....move Commander!"

	How could Jean-Luc just give himself up like that. Beverly paced the medical lab trying to decide the next step to take.
	"Dr. Crusher, secure channel established with the Enterprise, patching it to your console now."
	Beverly turned to the screen. "Will, a Nausicaan ship has just beamed the captain aboard."
	Commander Riker's response was full of surprise. "Nausicaans? What did they want with him?"
	Beverly just shook her head. "I have no idea, Will. How long before you can get the Enterprise here?" She hoped against hope they were close.
	"It could take awhile Beverly. We haven't finished the peace conference yet. I'll try to speed it up." He saw the look of disappointment in her eyes. "Give us a couple hours. I'll contact you as soon as we enter the sector."
	Relieved, "Thanks, Will."
	Riker nodded and the screen blanked out.

*************

  	Picard was all to soon on board the Nausicaan transporter pad, looking onto the faces of four burly, armed brutes.  "You come with us, coward Captain."  The last word seethed with such bitterness and sarcasm that Picard nearly flinched.
  	"Know this:  I gave myself to you of my own free will.  I offer no resistance.  If you think I am scared, think again."
   	The lead Nausicaan smacked Picard across the face with the butt of his rifle barrel.  "Show respect, human, or I'll serve you up for dinner - *Captain*."  Again, the bitter sarcasm.  Picard had known Nausicaans, but never one so furious, and he had no  idea why.

 	 Back on the planet, Beverly felt the blow on Picard's face as if it was on her own.  "My God," she wondered aloud, "the link, it's getting stronger."  She felt in her mind what Jean Luc felt; the nervousness, the puzzlement, the curiosity, and the fear . Oh yes, he was scared.  But, calling on strength gained from over twenty years as a starship captain, he was keeping his fear at bay, and showing his strength.  
	(Jean Luc, can you hear me?)	
	(Yes, Beverly...) Jean-Luc tried to shield her mind from the events which were occurring to him; he knew that Beverly felt each crack of the rifle as if it were she in his place. He tugged down on the naval jacket he still wore. 
	"You said that you wanted me here. Why? What need have you of me?"
	(Jean-Luc...please...be careful...)
	"You, Captain, are responsible for the death of a Nausicaan reconnaissance officer," replied the Nausicaan with the imposing rifle. "You recommended that your Dr Crusher serve on the Vire IV first contact research team stationed at Ravalan. She lost the life of one of our researchers. And, since it was under your recommendation that she is serving there, it is your fault."
	"A Nausicaan? Ravalan?" Picard was puzzled. "How?"
	"You, of all people, Picard should be aware of the abilities of surgeons in	these present days. She was altered to represent the -", his lip curled in distaste,"*Terran-like* race there."

	Beverly sank slowly into her chair at the Ravalan hospital, taking in the information that her link provided her through Jean-Luc. A Nausicaan. In her care. When? Which patient? Certainly, it had been an emergency situation, or else she would have been a ble to sustain the patient.
	Acting on a sudden idea, Beverly hit the inter-hospital comm. "Emergency room admitting, this is Dr. Crusher on the third landing. Would you please send me the admittance records for all emergency patients with serious external or internal injures for th e past month? No broken bones or stitches...all the patients which required operational assistance."
	The nurse in admittance sounded uncertain. "Doctor, there were over a hundred patients matching that description. Are you certain?"  	"Yes, I'm certain. Please see that the disc makes it to my office immediately."
	"Yes, ma'am." The admittance nurse dropped the link.
	'Well, here goes the needle in the haystack'.

***************
  	Beverly leaned away from her padd for a minute, utterly exhausted.  She'd been checking and double checking the names and data, trying desperately to find the Nausicaan agent who somehow had been placed in her sickbay. But hours of research had only na rrowed her search minutely; she had no idea where to turn next.  
  	Jean-Luc, mercifully, was no longer suffering at the hands of the Nausicaans; they had thrown him in solitary confinement.  While one or the other occasionally reached out telepathically for reassurance, they both knew that Beverly's concentration was important right now. Jean-Luc was quiet, resting in utter faith that she would succeed in her task.
  	"How's it going?" a voice asked.  She looked up to see the warm, friendly face of Geordi LaForge in her office doorway.  Beverly was only mildly surprised to see him. He had stationed here as part of the research team. His department had been away for a few weeks.
 	 "You've heard?"
	He nodded. "Have you found what you're looking for?"
	"I think I'm really getting someplace," she said with more confidence than she felt.  "I need to get with admittance to double check this." She stood, making her way to the door.
  	"I'm afraid I can't allow that," he said.  She looked up, puzzled -- and saw that Geordi had a phaser aimed straight at her head.
  	Set to kill.

	Slowly, Beverly backed away from the desk,  raising her arms above her head to show that she had no weapon of any type.  However, in her shock, she forgot to shield her thoughts from Jean-Luc
	(Beverly? What........)
	(SHHH.....let me concentrate!)
	Jean-Luc obeyed, but Beverly could faintly feel him thinking to himself, 'GEORDI??  This can't be right.....'
	"Well, Geordi," said Beverly, keeping her tone light, "I suppose that can wait."  'He must be insane', she thought, 'maybe if I talk to him...'
	"You know why I'm here,Doctor." 
	Beverly's eyes didn't move from the end of the phaser as it hung in the air, unwavering. Something had come over Geordi. Was it brainwashing? Or was it simply that he had snapped? A thought occurred to Beverly. *The medical records...If they altered one Nausicaan to appear as a Virian, then why not a Nausicaan to look like Geordi...*
	"Geordi, I _don't_ understand."
	"You caused the death of a Nausicaan intelligence officer. You, now, must die to make peace with the gods."
	*Great,* Beverly thought. *A religious fanatic...*
	(Calm down, Beverly...That temper will get you nowhere...)
	(I know that, Jean-Luc....)
	Allowing a furtive glance behind the phaser, Beverly saw the welcome shimmer of the transporter beams as Will and Worf solidified behind Geordi. In the moment he took to turn and look, Beverly knocked the phaser out of his hand. Worf quickly restrained h im.
	"Doctor, are you all right?" Worf asked.
 	"Fine, Worf, let's just get Jean-Luc back."
	"Agreed. Are you accompanying us?
	She shook her head. "I need to stay here and figure this out."
	"Agreed. Worf to Enterprise. Energize."
	The  figures in her office shimmered out of existence, allowing Beverly to draw in a deep sigh of relief. The door opened, a medic sticking his head in the door. "Doctor, are you all right?"
	Beverly nodded. "Fine. Just talking to admitting over the comm."
	The medic nodded, then left, allowing the door to close behind him.

	(Whew!)
	(Easy for you to say, Beverly...) Picard sat, Indian-style, on the floor of the holding cell. Too much time had passed since he had been tossed in here...or had it only been a few hours? He now saw the reasoning behind the Pre-Eugenics correctional facil ities: plenty of solitary confinement; it was one certain way to break a man.....if he were not Jean-Luc Picard.
	So, they had planned to take him and assassinate Beverly. Why? Why bother to go after Beverly when they had said that he would be the one to take the blame? No witnesses? Perhaps. Or just for the hell of it? More likely.
	A troubling thought arose from the clutter. If they had altered a Nausicaan to resemble Geordi, where was the _real_ LaForge?

	Riker stood in the transporter room, arms folded against his chest. The Enterprise would have to move soon to avoid being detected by the Virian satellites, and the security problems they were experiencing were not helping matters; he did not want to lea ve Beverly alone without any protection from the Enterprise.
	He stood, his expression stolid, as the members of the away team and their prisoner materialized on the platform. When he saw that the prisoner was Geordi LaForge, he did not allow his surprise to show on his face.
	"Take the prisoner to the brig, Mr Worf." Riker watched as they moved out of the transporter room and into the corridor. His mind whirling, he then followed out, headed in the direction of the bridge.
	"Bridge to Commander Riker."
	"Riker here. What is it?"
	"Dr. Crusher is on a secured channel from the research station, sir."
	He looked to the rooms around him. Seeing a familiar place, he nodded as though he were on the bridge. "I'll take it in Dr. Crusher's quarters." He tapped his security code into the panel, then entered, making quick strides to the terminal on her desk.
	The familiar features of Beverly Crusher filled the screen. "Hello, Will. I know that this will have to be fast; the satellites will be in position in half-an-hour. But there has been a little deception on the part of the Nausicaans..."

***************
	And the door to Picard's holding cell opened. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the outside lighting; the lighting in the cell had been dim, at best. He looked to the visitor, blinking rapidly. "I can help you with something?"
	The visitor grabbed his arm and hauled him, with pure brute strength back into the intelligence officer's quarters. "Come in, Picard. I have some very important news for you."
	Picard arched his eyebrows. *Been around Beverly too long,* he thought, smiling to himself. "And what is that?"
	The Nausicaan officer looked to him with a savage grin. "That, as of this moment, your dear Dr. Crusher lies dead on Ravalan."
	Jean-Luc allowed no expression to take his features. 
	(Beverly?) 
	Surely he would have known if--- he *would* have known. Certainly, she had become rather quiet in their link for the past few hours. 			(Beverly?) 
	But he *would* know, wouldn't he?
	(What is it, Jean-Luc?)
	Picard almost gave a sigh of relief. 
	(Never mind. Just get busy on getting information out of our friend.)
	He could almost see her smile. (Cavalry's on the way, Jean-Luc...)

***********
	Riker stepped onto the bridge, taking wide, powerful strides. "Helm, get us point-five light years away from here, any direction. We don't want to be picked up by satellites from Vire IV. Worf, have you anything on scanning for Geordi's DNA patterns?"
	"Negative, sir. We must scan each deck separately, and are only on deck 32, sir." Worf's rumble seemed to be lower. There was an adversary at work.
	Just then, the alarm sounded on the tactical controls. "Commander, we have located Commander LaForge. Deck 32, forward. He is locked in a Jefferies Tube."
	"A *Jefferies Tube*?" Riker shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Let's get him out of there. Those things are uncomfortable enough when you have to be in there."
  	"Sir, the Nausicaan ship is breaking orbit.  They have entered warp."
   	"Ensign, lay in a course for pursuit, warp 8. Engage.  Riker to Dr. Crusher, the Nausicaans are making a run for it.  No worry, we'll get him back.  Riker out."

   	Beverly was uncertain. Her link with Jean-Luc was still strong.  If he was warping away, so should the link.  Unless... the Nausicaans never left. Or perhaps they never had a ship at all!  
	"Will, wait!  Crusher here!"  But it was too late, the Enterprise had gone.  She was suddenly jolted.
	(Jean Luc!  What was that!)
	Picard felt another blow to his cheekbone, sending shock waves throughout the rest of his face, and racking his brain. It was senseless violence like this which led to terrorism in the Pre-Eugenics era and he could now see why.
	"Don't you get it, Picard? We have killed your beloved Dr. Crusher!" The Nausicaan snarled, and drew back his hand for yet another blow.
	(Jean-Luc! Can you tell me where you are?)
	Jean-Luc could feel his cognitive abilities slipping. 'Beloved Dr. Crusher?' he questioned. 'How would they know? Have they been spying that long?'
	(Or it could be....)
	(No, not again....) Picard felt his heart sink at the possibility. He raised his eyes upward, toward the ceiling. 'God, please, no...'
	A head jutted through the ceiling above -- and the features were all to familiar. "You called, *Mon Capitaine*?"
	"Q!" Picard, still reeling from the Nausicaan's blow, glared at the creature before his eyes. 
	Q snapped his fingers and Picard found himself standing in Q's white void. "What is the meaning of this?" he snapped.
	"Such a warm welcome for one you haven't seen in so long," said Q.
	"What do you have to do with these Nausicaans?"
	"I like Nausicaans. They're barbaric, but they're so very useful. Have you been enjoying your little comm link with Red?"
	"What do you know about that?" asked Picard suspiciously.
	"More than you know, Mon capitain. More than you know."
	A sudden thought struck Jean-Luc.  "You don't mean...." he said
	Q grinned "Mark one up for the baldy!! You hit it right on the nose Jean-LucK"
	(Beverly, are you there?)
	(What is it Jean-Luc?)
	(Q is the one responsible for our link.  I'm with him right now.  Beverl-)  The link was cut.  Jean-Luc could tell that even without asking. However, he tried to reach her once more (BEVERLY?!?!?!?).  She didn't answer. He fell to the floor, feeling utte rly alone for the first time in months.  He was amazed to find tears running down his face. He had forgotten his companion, and was startled when Q walked up
	"Having fun Jean-Luc? 

	Beverly suddenly felt an unimaginable emptiness fill her body, that was tearing her soul in two.  (Jean-Luc.) She mentally yelled over and over, as the tears did a free fall down her cheeks.
	'What has Q done?  Why does he have to keep doing this to us?' she thought. Beverly didn't know what to do next. All she knew was that she had to find Jean-Luc, before Q did any real damage with one of his games.

   Picard looked up at Q, showing the omnipotent being what he rarely showed to mortals: pain, agony, a soul in torment.  "Q, you give this power to us, and you snatch it away.  Why do you do this?  Is this a game?  Another test?  I will not--"
   	"Oh come now, Picard.  What's the matter?  You sound like a lost puppy dog!  Don't you see what is happening here? This is not about Nausicaans or traitors or revenge."  Q looked into Picard's confused eyes.
   	"Q, I, I do not understand this.  You must give me the link back. I beg you.  Please."
   	Q turned his back on Picard, and suddenly the mist was gone.  Q was gone.  Picard was again in the Nausicaan cell, alone.  Suddenly Q's voice came to him.  "Earn it back, Picard.  Now, I have a visit to pay to my old friend the doctor."

	The emptiness that Beverly was almost too much to bear.  After several months of knowing and feeling what Jean-Luc was thinking, it seemed unnatural dealing with her thoughts alone.  She was too deep in her thoughts to notice the electric charge in the a ir and the flash of light behind her.
	"Bon jour, good Doctor. Feeling a little sorry for yourself these days?"
	Beverly jerked back with a start, and she swiveled around to look at the source of the interruption.  "Q, how dare you continually interfere with our lives, I don't care-"
	"Careful red or I will turn you into the barking dog that you always have been!"
	Her anger deepened. (I don't care if he is all powerful, I am tired of his interference)  Beverly opened her mouth to utter a retort.
	"Tsk, tsk! I warned you." Q said reprovingly.
	"Woof, woof!"
	"Now, you will sit there like a good pet and listen to what I have to say to you without interrupting me! Now, what shall I call you?" Q wondered.  He would have to name her something that fit-- "Aha!!!" He exclaimed. "I'll call you red.  Now red, as I t old Jean-Luc, you must earn your link back."  
	But Beverly, for once in her life, didn't care.  She only cared about the fact that Q had interfered with her life one to many times.  So she did the only thing she could do. She walked over to Q, and bit him.
	Q grabbed his leg, howling in pain. That was the last thing that he expected, especially since he had turned her into that mutt to quiet her. Reasoning that she was decidedly less dangerous in her human form, he snapped his fingers and she returned to he r normal state. "You, Red, have no respect for higher beings."
	Beverly glared at him. "I have no respect for omnipotent, omniscient, immortal, and immoral pain in the --"
	Q wagged a finger at her. "Now, now Doctor."  	"I wish that, for once, you could allow a situation to evolve without sticking your nose in it!"
	"Come now, Red," Q said, mockingly, "you can't say that I have not provided you and the captain with more than ample time to straighten out that unfinished business between the two of you. Disgusting as it all is to me."
	Slowly, Beverly counted to ten, first in English, then in French, then in Vulcan. There was no use in losing her temper any further; Q was trying to make her lose her temper. "What do you want from us?" she asked, her calmness strained.
	"I only want what is destined to be." Q raised his left hand, snapped, and with a flash was gone.

	Picard looked around, disoriented. One moment, he had been on his knees, ready for another blow from the butt of a phaser rifle, the next- The next, knelt on a grassy knoll in his beloved LaBarre on the Picard Estate. He was no longer in the Virian Naval  uniform. Instead, he was now clad in his favorite mint green shirt and gray pants, no traces of his cuts and bruises about him.
	"Was it all a dream?" He furrowed his brows, looking over the vineyards, or what was left of them after the fire. The construction crews were working busily on repairing the damage to the main house. Marie could be seen through the kitchen windows, busil y preparing dinner the old fashioned way - on a stove.
	Suddenly, he felt the pressure of a hand clasping his shoulder. From the light scent of her perfume to the perfectly sculptured nails at the tips of the fingers, he knew that Beverly was with him. 
	Q had done it again.
	Beverly knelt beside him, surprised as he took her hand in his, lacing his fingers through hers. 
	(Can you hear me, Beverly?) 
	She turned to him with a slight smile touching the corners of her lips, a soft gleam in her eyes.
	(Yes, Jean-Luc, I can hear you.)

	Q sat atop a limb on the tree behind Picard and Crusher, watching them from a bird's view. He watched in disgust as she sat down next to him, then felt a wave of nausea as he took her into his arms a moment later. How these two could stand to be together  in such a manner was beyond even his comprehension, but it was as it should be.
	He gave a bird-grumble. As it should be. Disgusting how the Fates had decreed that they be together. It had been much more fun convincing him that he and Beverly were destined for marriage and divorce; he did so enjoy tormenting the captain.
	Watching now as Picard led Beverly into the house, Q became completely disgusted with them and snapped himself back into the Continuum. After that day, they would return back to the exact moment of Picard's arrival in her office on Ravalan, the only ones  with recollection of what had transpired with the Nausicaans and between them.
	Q was really beginning to despise his role as the guardian angel to Picard's Fate.

***************
	Picard tugged down on the jacket. "Not hardly. This costume was suggested by Commander Riker... so I would not be conspicuous," he said, allowing a lopsided grin. "I would hardly call three salutes and being called 'sir' by everyone inconspicuous."
	"Neither would I." Beverly folded her arms, her eyes dancing, having a feeling of deja vu and understanding why. "So, what brings a man like you into a place like this?"
	Picard took a step closer to her, placing his Naval cap under his arm. "Oh, I thought perhaps I might offer to take you away from all of this."
	An impish gleam crept into Beverly's eyes. "Oh, really? And I suppose that my research report will file itself with Starfleet Command?" She grinned.
	"There is no need. The Federation Council has decided to allow the research to continue for another twenty years. They, ahem, have also sent along your replacement a month early."
	Beverly grinned, realizing that the space between them had diminished as they had talked. "And I'm certain that you had nothing to do with that," she teased.
	"Certainly not," he answered, feigning innocence. "Of course, if you'd rather wait a *full month*..." He started to turn toward the door.
	Beverly grabbed the button placket of his uniform, pulling him back to face her. "I didn't say I wouldn't go."
	Picard reached into the pocket of his Naval uniform, removing his communicator. "Picard to Enterprise. Two to beam aboard"

	The two stood there, smiling at each other as the transporter beam gripped them. Q had finally done something right: adding a catalyst to the finely tuned chemistry between them. 
	The future was not written in stone.