Oops
by Astra <astraplain@yahoo.com 

*There's something I'm forgetting.*

It was an uncomfortable feeling - one that she really 
disliked.  So she huffed that annoying strand of hair 
out of her eyes and frowned at the computer screen.

If only Jean-Luc were here, he'd remind her.  Where 
was he anyway?  It seemed like he'd been gone a lot 
lately. And when he was here, all he wanted to do was 
sleep.  That certainly wasn't helping her frustration 
level.

*Top secret missions, ha!* she thought, mimicking his 
"I'm telling you something I know you don't want to 
hear please don't hurt me" expression. She watched 
her reflection in the computer screen, perfecting the 
look.

"Beverly?"  Jean-Luc was back and he was looking at 
her rather oddly. "What are you doing?" 

"There you are.  I was wondering where you'd 
disappeared to.  Back from your latest secret 
mission?"  Jean-Luc scowled and for the first time 
she noticed how exhausted he looked. The teasing 
stopped immediately. "You look terrible."

"Thank you," he replied with much dignity - at least 
as much as he was able to muster while still 
retaining enough energy to keep standing.

"Come on," she said, taking pity on him.  He really 
did look tired.  She took his arm and led him back to 
his quarters, escorting him directly to his bed and 
fussing with the blankets while he stumbled into the 
bathroom to change and get ready for bed.  He emerged 
looking as if he were asleep on his feet and she 
steered him into bed and covered him.

"Good night, Jean-Luc.  Sleep as long as you like.  
I'll let Will know you're taking tomorrow off."  

The only response she got was a snore.

*****

It took three hours of digging and some judicious 
questions asked of her favorite android before 
Beverly found her first clue. She was determined to 
know what Jean-Luc had been doing. What she found 
didn't soothe her one bit.  

Initials.  Lots of them.  And dates, each one 
corresponding to one of Jean-Luc's missions. And then 
she looked at the current date.  Not the stardate, 
but the current Earth-standard date, and suddenly she 
knew what had been bothering her all day.  

She was not looking forward to the morning.

*****

It started as soon as she woke up.  Her computer 
screen was displaying the "New Message" symbol and 
she seriously considered not reading it.  After all, 
this whole thing was a joke, or at least it had been 
when it had started all those years ago.  Was it her 
fault that the great machine that was Starfleet was 
so efficient in its inefficiency?

Curiosity won out and she read the message before 
leaving for work. It was what she had expected.  Data 
was very thorough and he never forgot an important 
date - even if it was the wrong one.

The entire day was spent acknowledging people's well 
intentioned greetings. It was driving her crazy.  
When at last she was able to escape back to her cabin 
she was tempted to lock the door and not emerge again 
until morning.  She didn't expect to be waylaid in 
the corridor by a jovial Will Riker.

*****

The "one drink" he'd cajoled her into had somehow 
turned into many drinks and she was feeling very very 
relaxed when he escorted her home, one arm firmly 
around her waist to help her stay upright and moving 
in a straight line.

She found it more than a little annoying that he had 
had much more to drink than she and yet *he* was 
treating her like she was drunk.  She wasn't drunk.  
She was just, um, mellow.  That was it.  Yup.

"Whoa." Will said, laughing as Beverly nearly 
collided with the wall.  "We're almost home, Beverly, 
just around the corner."  Somehow they made it to her 
cabin, and Will managed to get her inside and to a 
chair before she collapsed. The look on his face as 
she landed struck her as hilarious and she started to 
giggle.  Will chose the better part of valor and left 
- fast.

*****

She was still half-lying in the chair, tears 
streaking her face from her giggling fit, when the 
door opened.

"Oh, you're home."

"Oh, you're awake," was her response.

They remained like that for a moment, until she 
finally realized what she was seeing.  He was wearing 
her favorite shirt; the soft blue, cut-down-to-there 
shirt, and a pair of very nice, very tight tan pants. 
And he was holding something in his hands... a gift 
bow?

"What's going on?" she asked, shaking off some of the 
effects of Will's special punch. The expression on 
his face had her intrigued.

"I know you've been wondering about all the secret 
missions I've been sent on recently. You see, these 
were not Starfleet missions." He moved closer, his 
face still half shadowed by the dim lighting in her 
cabin. His eyes seemed to glow, capturing her 
attention completely. "There is another organization, 
one whose very existence is denied by the highest 
levels of Starfleet command.  They do not believe in 
the mission of this organization, although many 
people, even some high ranking officers in Starfleet 
Command recognize the necessity, even the 
inevitability of this group's mission."

He moved to kneel in front of her.  "I have been 
appointed the Good Will Ambassador of this 
organization, if you will.  A diplomat to represent 
and further the mission of this organization. 
Starfleet has no official knowledge of my work with 
this group, but some of the people in this 
organization have the power necessary to make sure I 
can continue my work with no interference from 
Starfleet Command."

"Why are you telling me this now, Jean-Luc?  How long 
has this been going on?"

"I've been involved for nearly three years, Beverly.  
And I am telling you now because this organization 
finally has enough influence to allow me to do 
this..."  He kissed her, a long, slow, toe-curling 
kiss.  When he was done she was experiencing a whole 
different kind of intoxication.

"Hair of the dog," she mumbled rather incoherently, 
and kissed him back. Somehow she managed to knock him 
down onto his back, narrowly missing the coffee 
table.  She followed him down, never breaking their 
kiss.

What followed was an epic session that defies any 
attempt at description. It was hot enough to register 
on the environmental systems control board as an 
overload. 

*****

Much much later when Beverly regained the ability to 
speak, and Jean-Luc the strength to respond, he 
offered the only explanation he would give.

"Thank the organization, Beverly. They sent me as 
your birthday gift."

And Beverly, being a very wise woman decided to wait 
until morning to tell him that Starfleet records were 
wrong. Her birthday wasn't for months.

*I wonder if I'll get another gift?*

::: end :::