A Woman's Place 
by astraplain@yahoo.com

Beverly Crusher woke slowly from a deep, peaceful 
sleep.  It was the kind of rest she seldom enjoyed, 
but oh, did it feel good. Indulging herself, she kept 
her eyes closed and went through a series of 
stretches.  That felt good too, and her muscles 
purred in response to the cat-like movements.

She felt terrific.  Funny, though, she had the oddest 
feeling that she shouldn't feel so good.  In fact, 
something made her think that she should be feeling 
really rotten about now.  But what....

With a gasp, Beverly opened her eyes and sat up.  No, 
no, no.  This was wrong.  She shouldn't be here, on 
the Enterprise, in this very nice bed 
which...was...not...hers.  Oh boy.

The Enterprise is a big ship, Beverly. Just because 
there is a copy of _The Tempest_ on the nightstand 
does not mean what I think it means.  Surely there 
are lots of men's robes just that color.  It's just 
coincidence that it's exactly the same as the one I 
gave Jean-Luc for his birthday.  And that 
painting.... Oh boy.

Running a hand through her hair, Beverly continued to 
give herself a pep talk.  Get up. That's right, just 
get up slowly and go out into the other room and see 
if he's there. Maybe I'm dreaming.  Maybe I'm not 
really here, after all.  Maybe I tried another one of 
Guinan's special concoctions, and I'm really still 
asleep in my own bed.

Out of bed at last, Beverly looked down at her 
sleeping attire and sighed.  No question about it.  
Jean-Luc Picard was the only man she knew who owned a 
shirt this ugly. Wesley had sent it to him as a joke, 
(she hoped), knowing the dignified Picard would never 
wear it.  But here she stood with that oversized, 
garish, purply- orange-green disaster wearing her, 
the words _Captain of the Enterprise_ emblazoned 
across her chest in iridescent glitter.  She wasn't 
feeling quite so wonderful anymore.

"Coffee.  I need coffee."  

She was almost out of the bedroom when she heard the 
noise.  It was a snore, actually. A rather loud one. 
And it was coming from the other side of the bed.   

Walking deliberately around the bed, she gazed down 
at Jean-Luc Picard.  The captain of the Flagship of 
the Federation was sleeping peacefully on the floor.   

The laughter came from nowhere, and it took Beverly a 
few seconds to realize that she was the one laughing.  
The more she thought about things, the more she 
laughed.  

After all these years, she finally woke up in Jean-
Luc's bed.  Naturally, she woke alone, without a clue 
of how she got there, or why he was sleeping on the 
floor.  It really was too funny.

"Are you always this loud when you wake up?"  

Jean-Luc sat up and frowned at her.  His expression 
made Beverly laugh even harder, until she half-
collapsed onto the bed. 

Jean Luc threw off the blanket and stood. 

Beverly exploded into even louder laughter until 
tears rolled down her face.  

Finally getting the idea that he was the source of 
her amusement, Picard looked down.  

"These are not my shorts." he huffed, thoroughly 
miffed.

She desperately wanted to say, "Then who's shorts are 
they?"  But she was laughing too hard to force the 
words out.  Instead, she wiped her eyes and focused 
on the offending item.  The shorts were just that - 
short. They were a tasteful charcoal gray and looked 
velvety soft.  Beverly could actually imagine Jean-
Luc wearing these particular shorts were it not for 
the words Property of the Captain stitched across the 
front, just under the waistband.

"Doctor Crusher!"

That got her attention.  She was too well trained not 
to respond to the Captain's command tone. 
Automatically she straightened, wiping away the 
mirthful tears.

He towered over her, glaring.  "This is not amusing."  
Then he relented slightly. "Now would you explain 
what you are doing in my bedroom wearing that...?"

"Don't tell me you don't remember either?"

The door chime interrupted Picard's response.  
Snatching up his robe, he stalked to the other room 
to greet his visitor. Beverly knew better that to 
follow.

Deanna Troi entered, wearing a cranberry and black 
uniform.  Nodding once at Picard, she went directly 
to the bedroom.  Baffled, Picard followed.

"Deanna, what in the world is going on?" Beverly 
demanded.

"A lot.  I don't have much time to explain, so you'd 
better get dressed while we talk.  Here, this should 
fit."  Deanna laid the small bundle she carried on 
the bed. Beverly opened it up to reveal a jumpsuit 
nearly identical to the one Deanna was wearing.  The 
only difference was the four gold pips on the collar.

"Counselor, what is the meaning of this?"

Deanna eyed the captain's robe.  "Perhaps you'd 
better get dressed as well, sir.  But not your 
uniform.  Put on civilian clothes. I'll go order some 
breakfast."

Deanna hurried to the outer room. Beverly gave Jean-
Luc a shrug before retreating to the bathroom to 
dress.  Five minutes later she emerged, wearing the 
uniform of a captain.  Jean-Luc gave his tacit 
approval of her appearance by staring.

"I take it you approve?"  she breathed, blushing a 
little.

"I'm not sure, but you do wear it well." 

She nodded her thanks and waved him off to the 
bathroom to finish his morning preparations.  Three 
minutes later they were seated around the captain's 
dining table, eating breakfast.

Deanna inspected them both.  "I know this is abrupt, 
but we've only got fifteen minutes before the 
ceremony begins.  Beverly, what's the last thing you 
remember prior to waking up this morning?"

Beverly answered immediately.  "Not much. I've been 
trying to remember how I got here, but everything is 
blurry."  She looked to Picard for reinforcement, and 
he nodded his agreement.

"That's what I thought."  Deanna paused and sighed, 
before continuing. "Seven days ago, you took a 
shuttlecraft to the Derannih system, for a symposium 
on Deran II.  The Enterprise was mapping a nearby 
planetary system when we were called away to render 
aid to a crippled freighter.  We were late returning 
to the rendezvous point.  When we did arrive, and you 
weren't there, we went to Deran II and were informed 
that you'd never arrived.  We started searching, and 
discovered that your shuttlecraft had crash-landed on 
Triar."

She paused, searching their face for any sign of 
remembrance.  There was none, but Jean-Luc did say, 
"Starfleet determined Triar was not ready for contact 
with he Federation. Their technology was sufficiently 
advanced, but their planetary governments were too 
divisive."

"That may be, sir, but that survey was done twenty-
three years ago.  There have been a lot of changes on 
Triar in that time.  There is now one unified 
government, and they have developed intra-system 
space travel."

Beverly interrupted.  "I hear a big however coming."

Deanna nodded, "That's right.  Triar is a matriarchal 
society.  Women maintain all positions of power.  Men 
do manual labor, or serve as domestic companions."  
Picard didn't like the look that passed between the 
two women at his table.

"When your shuttle crashed on Triar, the computer was 
damaged beyond repair.  Your luggage was destroyed.  
Both of you were seriously injured and unconscious.  
Because neither of you were wearing a uniform, there 
was no way for the Triarians to identify you. The 
only clue to you identities were remnants of you 
luggage.  The determined that one of the passengers 
was Captain Jean - pronounced Jeen - something.  
Naturally they assumed that this was Beverly."

"I was in command when the Triarians detected our 
ship and contacted us, asking if we were missing 'our 
captain and her companion'.  We arranged for a 
delegation to come on board.  They insisted that they 
must remain here until the captain,"  Deanna nodded 
at Beverly. "could meet with them.  Which is what 
we'll be doing in about 5 minutes."

Beverly interrupted, "Which leaves out a few things.  
Such as: why don't we remember any of this; and how 
did I end up here instead of my own quarters."

Deanna couldn't quite suppress her smile. "First, 
Triar medicine has side effects when used on humans - 
it causes temporary memory loss.  Combined with the 
severity of your injuries - you both had head wounds 
and concussions - it has temporarily wiped out your 
memories of the past 10 days.  Second, the Triarians 
sent an honor guard to escort the captain.  The 
Triarians assigned them to you when they discovered 
you were a high- ranking official, Beverly.  They 
have been assigned to guard you until they are 
officially discharged at this conference.  I didn't 
have time to change doorplates, so I had to have you 
brought here."

There was an impish smile on her face as she 
finished.  "The guards didn't mind you staying here 
as well, sir."  She told Picard. "But they refused to 
let you sleep in the bed. They insisted that the 
place for any good companion was on the floor by his 
captain." The smile increased, "They did, however, 
reward you by giving you those shorts."

"Property of the captain."  Beverly laughed.  "A very 
thoughtful gift."

Picard cut her off before she could say anything 
else.  "How many of the crew are ...aware.. of this 
situation, Counselor?"

"Not many, sir.  Most of this happened during the 
third watch."

"Then may I suggest we conclude this ceremony as 
quickly as possible so the Triarians may leave."  
Picard stood to leave. Deanna stopped him by clearing 
her throat.

"I'm afraid you weren't invited, sir. Captain and 
First Officer only."  Deanna motioned to Beverly, 
then herself.  

Biting back yet another burst of laughter, Beverly 
stood.  "Well, then, come along, Number one, let's 
not keep the Triarians waiting."  Just inside the 
door, Beverly turned and blew Picard a kiss.  "I'll 
see you later."

Picard waited for the doors to close before making a 
pithy remark.

*****

Beverly keyed in the access code and breezed into the 
captain's quarters.  He gave her _the look_, then 
returned to his reading.

"Oh, relax, Jean-Luc.  The Triarians are gone.  You 
get to be captain again."

He shut the book with a snap and stood. "You are 
being insubordinate, Doctor."

She stepped closer, until she was practically 
touching him.  "Am I?"

"Yes, you are.  Now stop being so smug and take off 
that uniform."

"Jean-Luc!  What are you saying?"

"You know full well what I'm saying. Impersonating a 
captain is a court-martial offense."

She pouted, leaning over to breathe in his ear.  "Is 
that all?"

"No."  His arms circled around her, pulling her 
close.  "You're driving me mad."

"I bet you say that to all the women who make you 
sleep on the floor."

"Only one - you.  I've started to remember some of 
our shuttle ride.  It seems that we were discussing 
matters of a rather...intimate nature."

She kissed him.  "Like this?"

He nodded and kissed he back.  Breaking away at last, 
he reached around and unseamed her uniform, easing 
her out of it until she stood before him in her bra 
and panties.

"You realize, the whole point of going to that 
symposium together was to have time to explore this 
new facet of our relationship."

Beverly nodded.  "But since we never got There, we 
didn't..."

"Exactly."

"But since Dr. Selar was so accommodating as to place 
us on Medical leave for a week, until our memories 
return and our injuries heal, we might as well use 
that time wisely."

"My thoughts, exactly."  Beverly started to walk 
towards the bedroom.

"Wait."  Jean-Luc called her back. Crossing to the 
table, he picked op a small package and handed it to 
her.  "A little reminder of our trip."

Beverly unwrapped the bundle and held it up.  It was 
a short gown, white, and satin smooth.  She didn't 
even have to read the words embroidered across the 
top to know it said, "Property of the Captain." 

:::end:::