#crvsher

FIRST MORNING BACK ON THE ENTERPRISE, after a grueling week of negotiations – picard awakens, groggy and sluggish, but thrilled to be back on the bridge at gamma shift’s conclusion. donning his starfleet uniform, four pips at the collar, with his captain’s jacket, he moves before the replicator and orders his simple breakfast. 

       then comes the chiming at his door. 

       now, a captain does not skip, does not bounce, even in his personal quarters. but picard does feel a pleasant rush at the thought of his morning visitor – “Come!” he calls and, upon seeing the familiar red hair and blue science coat, he flashes a rather bright smile. his good friend, beverly crusher – he cannot think of another person with whom he’d rather spend his morning before his visit to the bridge. 

       just the two of them, oh how he’s missed their talks and shared laughter over something as simple as COFFEE & CROISSANTS. she fills him in, unofficially of course, on everything he’s missed: as expected commander riker, his second in command, kept his ship in order. four new promotions, a small bout of some alien flu running through the school children (nothing out of her admirable control), and other such events. 

       but after being surrounded by hostile and impatient delegates, he finds her company undeniably refreshing. in fact, his thoughts briefly flash back to similar days of years ago, when beverly, jack, and walker would spend breakfast in one of their dorm rooms. now they’re the only two left, but their friends will never truly leave them. 

[1:27:54 AM] master of the stars.: the underwoods hearing about the attack on MI6 in skyfall

[1:28:10 AM] master of the stars.: bond's unreachable, pronounced dead

[1:28:33 AM] master of the stars.: bond: arrives three months later with starbucks and a selfie in front of the white house

[1:30:44 AM] clunderbooty™: that asshole

[1:31:05 AM] master of the stars.: bond: B)))

[1:31:06 AM] clunderbooty™: WAIT FELIX LEITER

[1:31:16 AM] clunderbooty™: i have heard of this man i think

[1:31:21 AM] clunderbooty™: from a cool bean over on my oc

[1:31:23 AM] clunderbooty™: i think

[1:31:27 AM] master of the stars.: FELIX LEITER HE'S

[1:31:29 AM] master of the stars.: HE'S JUST

[1:31:46 AM] clunderbooty™: mmmm KYLIE I THINK

[1:31:48 AM] clunderbooty™: told me about him

[1:31:51 AM] clunderbooty™: doesn't he like

[1:31:53 AM] clunderbooty™: isn't he

[1:31:58 AM] clunderbooty™: how do i put this delicately

         AS MUCH AS HE REALLY  does not want to be here, at least this ship is mostly big enough for him to be able to walk through it without having to crouch. The medical bay, however, is one of the exceptions-- too cramped with all of the beds and equipment and really, he’s perfectly healthy, why is he here again?  ----- ah, yes, because paranoid aliens ( mostly the humans ) want to make sure he’s not carrying some alien disease, or a parasite, or whatever other excuses they had come up with since he’d boarded the ship the day before. He gets it, he's from an as-of-yet unexplored region of space, at least by this organisation's standards. But it is more than a little humiliating.

If there was one ability he had in abundance, it was his ability to focus even when chaos reigned freely about him. Starfleet Intelligence’s Commander Illya Kuryakin was legendary for his mental control to the point that even Vulcans sometimes forgot he was not truly one of their own. Yet, as he tried to listen to the words falling from the lovely Doctor Crusher’s lips in Ten Forward, he could not recall a single thing that was said.

Blue eyes were sharp, his expression dutifully attentive, but was there anything of substance going on between his two softly-pointed ears? Illya, were he able to run an internal diagnostic on himself, would be mortified to realise that little in the way of actual thought was running through that superior mind of his. 

But as it were, all he could focus upon was the steady throbbing pain pinching his head and the low murmur of activity punctuated from time to time by the normally pleasing lilt of the good doctor’s voice. His fingers flexed imperceptibly around the fast-cooling mug of coffee in his hand.

Eventually he blinked, offering the vaguest of nods when expectant eyes waited for some response. That much he could still muster, despite not comprehending a single word that was spoken. That much was what he clutched at to maintain the false exterior of calm that he tried to maintain.

FOLLOWING THE TRAGIC DEATHS OF ROBERT & MARIE PICARD, jean-luc finds himself with full custody of his nephew rené -- a lively boy, awed by his new life on board the starship enterprise. his fascination, so similar to his uncle’s, often left robert frustrated & filled with misplaced annoyance. an annoyance, no doubt, which remained decades after his little brother grew up & lost himself among the stars. 

       and the captain, while devastated by the sudden loss of his brother & his sister-in-law, finds solace in rené’s survival. the family line may still go on. however, picard (without prior necessity) has never before acted as a FATHER to any child (mostly because he’s always unable to connect his paternal feelings & actions concerning younger members of his crew) and likens this new experience as a journey into UNCHARTED TERRITORY. a more human territory, compared to his voyage through the stars. 

       in short, the prestigious captain, with countless negotiations and first contacts with alien civilizations under his belt, is LOST. thus, his physical location finds him here, standing in the doorway to the office of his closest friend, DOCTOR BEVERLY CRUSHER. his stance, wary: he’s fighting his confusion, never comfortable when faced with a seemingly helpless situation.