Title: Dancing
Author: Astra 
Series: TNG,  C  Inspired by Robin Lawrie's "Prior 
Consultation"
Summary: Beverly makes an important decision - takes 
place just before the events of "Prior Consultation"

Note: After reading Robin Lawrie's brilliant, 
wrenching "Prior Consultation" I found myself 
compelled to understand what motivated her characters 
to make the choices they did. I wrote this story to 
explain why Beverly made the choices she did. This 
and "Breathing" focus only on Beverly. I would love 
to see someone write Jean-Luc's pov.



Dancing
by Astra <astraplain@yahoo.com 

I didn't always want to be a healer. 

There was a time, almost lost in distant memory, when 
I wanted nothing more than to dance, feeling the 
glorious power of my own body, and the enchantment of 
the music. 

That dream died on Arvada III.

It wasn't the first of my childish fantasies to die, 
and it certainly wasn't the last; but it was the most 
cherished. I tried for years after that to find a 
compromise, something to reconcile the desire to be a 
dancer with the necessity of becoming a healer.

I thought I had found my salvation in Starfleet.

Nana always said I needed discipline, that I was too 
headstrong, too willful. Medical school tried, but it 
couldn't tame me. 

I was born to be a healer, following along as my Nana 
treated the ill and afflicted. What others struggled 
to learn came easily to me. Only the technology was 
strange. I couldn't learn how to help others without 
actually touching them. Physical contact is a 
healer's most  powerful tool; for a physician in 
Starfleet it's rarely used. It was a hard lesson to 
learn.

I found my physical contact in other places, finding 
time for parties and bars while others in my class 
struggled over their notes and workstations. I've 
always been a quick study. I had to be. It left me 
time to fill the many voids in my life. I was never a 
heavy drinker, and I knew too much about the effects 
on the human body to even consider taking drugs. It 
was love that I craved, and I thought that sex was 
the way to find it.

I stumbled into Walker Keel in a bar one night, 
literally, when I caught my foot on something and 
fell into Walker's arms. Less than an hour later I 
was in his arms again, this time in his apartment.

It lasted a week, the beginning of a beautiful 
friendship. The sex was great - intense, 
intoxicating, but it still wasn't what I craved so I 
moved on. Thing is, I kept coming back. We slept 
together once or twice after that, friendship sex. It 
wasn't a promise, and it wasn't a love affair. It was 
exactly what both of us needed.

Walker had drawn attention to himself and his 
reckless lifestyle. He was given a desk job. He hated 
every minute of it, knowing that although he'd been 
awarded a promotion, the job itself was a step down. 
He was being taught a lesson.

Funny thing is, Walker and I both found ourselves in 
fewer bars. What we had together was exactly what 
we'd been looking for. 

It was almost a year later when I met Jack. Walker 
introduced us, unable to resist playing matchmaker. 
He thought Jack and I would form the same kind of 
relationship that Walker and I had. Imagine his 
surprise when Jack and I eloped.

It was a hasty decision, as so many of my decisions 
were then, ill considered and rash. I loved every 
minute of it at the time.

Jack believed in fairy tales and knights on white 
horses. I'd given up on happily ever after years ago. 
Maybe that's why he was so alluring. Maybe that's why 
I agreed to have his child.

Being with Jack was like a fantasy. It was the best 
of what I had with Walker and so much more. Jack was 
exciting, caring, challenging and safe. He was all 
the things I aspired to be, and I adored him.

We hadn't been together long before we eloped, and 
not long after that I was pregnant. Jack helped me 
through the fear, the self-doubts. He told me 
everything would be all right and I believed him. 

Wes was a perfect baby, and with Jack at my side, I 
felt I could handle anything. The one thing I didn't 
plan on was Jack leaving.

I met Jean-Luc after Jack and I were married. He 
seemed nice, if a little stuffy. Jack and Walker 
adored him. The three of them accepted me into the 
group without reservations or petty jealousies that 
so often threaten new relationships. It felt so good 
to be accepted.

And then everything changed.

It never occurred to me to worry about Jack being 
lured away. He loved me, and his every look and touch 
told me so. When Wes was born I was sure we were 
safe. Nothing could compete with what we had.

I didn't count on the stars.

How often Jack had told me about Jean-Luc being "out 
there" exploring, but I was too besotted to hear what 
he was really saying. Perhaps I was just denying it.

Wes was less than a year old when Jean-Luc and 
Starfleet finally lured Jack away. Neither of us knew 
it then, but it was the beginning of the end of us.

Raising a child alone, suddenly having sole 
responsibility for a child terrified me. Jack never 
understood that. How could he know what my childhood 
was like? There aren't words to express things I 
barely understood myself. He heard only the stars 
calling. It was easier to listen to my half-hearted 
encouragement to go than it was to accept my fears.

I couldn't ask him to stay. He had to know that I 
needed him to stay, the way white knights always 
knew. He had to make the decision, and I had to live 
with the consequences.

Walker knew. Although he never said anything, he 
understood my pain and fear. But the stars called him 
away too, and I was alone, raising my child, living 
life just the way I had sworn I never would.

I did the best I could with Wes, especially after 
Jack died. I raised him to be strong, and smart. I 
lived every day as a role model, pushing myself, and 
pushing him to excel. He rarely saw me waver. I don't 
think he suspected a thing. Maybe even now, out there 
on those other planes of existence, he still believes 
I am the fictional character I pretend to be. I hope 
he never learns the truth. If he does, I hope he can 
forgive me.

Jean-Luc would never understand. Jean-Luc wouldn't 
want to. For a man of great depth, the captain can be 
terribly shallow. He, too, fancies himself my white 
knight. The problem is he doesn't see that his 
fantasy princess is ugly and scarred. 

He's been trying to save me for the last twenty 
years, and he still can't see the truth.

It was a mistake to sleep with him; and an even 
bigger mistake to break it off so quickly. I was 
panicked, and didn't see the warning signs. Damn my 
hormones, damn this Howard blood. Damn all the aliens 
I've bedded, using them to protect me from him. 

Twenty years of friendship and hard work destroyed by 
one kiss.

There are so many things in my life I wish I could do 
over again, but I've never wanted that as badly as I 
do now. I would give anything to have never slept 
with Jean-Luc Picard. Anything.

I wish I could pretend, could ignore, could 
rationalize myself out of this, but I can't I never 
could. I already know what I have to do, and why. I 
also know he'll never understand. How could he? How 
could he even begin to understand?

It's not his decision anyway. We've already ruined 
our friendship, I'm not going to ruin what I have 
left by raising another child alone. I have a family 
here, a home, a job. I'm far too old to start all 
over again.

Will should be here soon. He won't understand either, 
but he'll accept my decision.  Jean-Luc never learned 
how to do that. Perhaps if he had, we wouldn't have 
made such a terrible mistake. Perhaps...

That must be Will.

I walk to the door slowly, taking careful measured 
steps, swaying, raising, my arms a little. For just a 
moment I close my eyes and indulge in a fairy tale. I 
think about asking him to dance with me, knowing I 
would never do it. I open my eyes, lowering my arms 
to my sides, my body stiff and strong, unbending 
against painful reality.

There will be no dancing tonight. 

...end...