ST:TNG FIC :: "Turmoil" [Beverly/Deanna] PG13
Title: Turmoil
Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Email: stormwriter@shatterstorm.net
Rating: PG13
Pairings: Beverly/Deanna, mention of Deanna/Will & Deanna/Thomas
Date: 10-12 July 2007
Word Count: 1009
Summary: A fever caught planet-side wreaks havoc.
Spoilers: Takes place post-series
Warnings: Loving, long-term lesbian relationship. Don't like it? Don't read it…
Website: ShatterStorm Productions - Mmm…Doctor!
Link to: http://md.shatterstorm.net/
Archive: ShatterStorm Productions only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…
Author’s Disclaimer: "Star Trek: The Next Generation," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Paramount Pictures, CBS Television, and several other people or companies over the years. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Star Trek: The Next Generation," Paramount Pictures, or any representatives of Marina Sirtis or Gates McFadden.
Author’s Notes: This started out as a light and fluffy ficlet for leyenn…or it was supposed to be. But my muses thankfully only kept this bout of angst relatively short. Which is always a good thing.
This story is proof of my theory/habit of never declaring a fandom or pairing as completely gone for me. I haven't written for this particular pairing in probably 7 years or more. And yet, here's 1000+ words on my original femslash pairing. I'll admit it felt a bit odd to be writing for them again, but at the same time, it felt fabulous. I've missed these two, more than I can express. So a big thank you goes out to leyenn for the request…
Dedication: To my Deanna & Bev muses, because they've never actually left me after all these years…
Beta: forensicgater
"Turmoil"
by A. Magiluna Stormwriter
"It's called being busy."
"No, it's called not fair," she snaps. "Deanna, you know what this means to me."
"Of course, I know what it means to you," I reply gently, sending a tendril of calming love her way. "It happens to mean a great deal to me, as well, Bev. But that doesn't change the fact that I've work that needs to be done."
I can clearly picture the scowl on Beverly's face, her blue eyes flashing with frustrated anger. She's probably pacing restlessly in the holodeck, waiting for me. We've had this event planned for weeks. Leave it to an Away Team coming into contact with an hallucinogenic plant, causing all sorts of mental and emotional issues for them to come down from. The fact that Will Riker was affected most strongly of all hasn't made the situation any better.
"Deanna, is it--? Is he okay?" It's as if she's read my mind.
"He will be," I finally say slowly. "He's sleeping right now, but I'm expecting more of the same when he does wake up."
"You sound exhausted," she says softly, and I slump back in my chair. "Are you sure you can handle this?"
No, I'm not sure, but I'll do my best to reassure. "I'll be fine. It's not as if I really have a choice, Beverly. He's just… This is definitely a drawback to treating a former lover."
How to explain to my lover that my former lover is reliving demons from our tempestuous relationship, as well as the latent guilt and jealousy toward both my relationship with his clone and my relationship with Beverly? My Bev may be progressive, but this would give even my mother and Chandra pause for consideration.
"Deanna?"
"Sorry, I'm still here. I just…"
"When's the last time you had more than a catnap while Will's down for the count?" When I don't answer quickly enough for her, I can clearly hear the sigh across the link. "I'll be there in a minute. Crusher out."
In practically no time at all, I can hear the chime at my office door. "Come in," I call out, hoping not to wake the softly snoring Will. I don't know that I can fend off another amorous encounter without drugging him unconscious. I smile wearily at my lover and watch as she makes her way around my desk to pull me up into a tight embrace. The scent of her surrounds me: her hair, her perfume, her. I can't keep such rigid hold on my self-control in the face of her presence; I cling to this lifeline of my sanity, let the tears free.
"Shh," she murmurs, stroking my hair. After the initial outburst, she leads me to the couch across from Will. She settles herself and pulls me down against her. "Lay down, sweetheart."
"But--"
"Deanna, you need to rest." Her fingers work through my hair, instilling a sense of calm and safety, and I can't help but stretch out with my head in her lap. "That's it, just relax. Sleep now, sweetheart. I'll be right here when you wake up."
~ ~ ~
I don't know how long I slept, I only know that I'm curled up in my bed when I do wake up. I feel worse now than I did when I went to sleep, which is never a good thing. Before I can even move to sit up, Beverly comes into the room to sit by me.
"How are you feeling, sweetheart?"
"Like I was trampled by a herd of wild targs," I mutter roughly as I sit up. "Where's Will? Why did you move me from my office? Damn it, Beverly, I was working!"
"Shh," she murmurs, a hand moving to my forehead. "Relax, Deanna."
"No! You can't pull me from my work like that." Something flashes in her eyes, but I can't stop myself. "I wouldn't pull you from your duties just because you'd lost a little sleep. How can you determine--"
"Lost a little sleep? Deanna, you've been in bed with a fever for the past three days. You contracted the illness planet-side on a mission. Will brought you back the minute you started showing signs of disorientation. Whatever you think has been happening has all been a dream."
I stare at her for a long moment, all of the details of what I thought happened the past few days running through my mind. Why the hell did I create the scenario I did? Why was I so focused on how Will was reacting to my relationships? What's going on with me? "Beverly, I-- I’m sorry," I finally say, feeling tears stinging my eyes.
"Feel up to talking about it, sweetheart?" she asks, pulling me closer, and strokes her hand down my back. I shake my head, not willing to trust my voice just yet. "It's okay. You rest now, regain your strength, and we'll talk about it later when you're feeling more up to it." Once again, I find myself reduced to tears with my Bev comforting me. This is… There's something wrong about this. I shouldn't be this emotionally distraught. "You're sick, Deanna. Give yourself a break. Don't worry about your dreams until you're physically better, then we can discuss them, okay?"
I nod slowly, snuggling in closer, and focus on the beating of her heart. "When did you become so good at psychology?" I murmur wearily.
"When I fell in love with a certain Betazoid counselor. It seemed appropriate that I learn more about her work." She presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head. "You're exhausted and weak, sweetheart. Let's leave this conversation for a later time when we're both up to it, okay?"
"Stay with me?" I ask softly, clinging ever more desperately to my lover.
"For as long as you want me to, sweetheart." She pulls away long enough to slip out of her clothes before crawling under the covers to pull me close again. "Rest now. I'll protect you while you sleep."
Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Email: stormwriter@shatterstorm.net
Rating: PG13
Pairings: Beverly/Deanna, mention of Deanna/Will & Deanna/Thomas
Date: 10-12 July 2007
Word Count: 1009
Summary: A fever caught planet-side wreaks havoc.
Spoilers: Takes place post-series
Warnings: Loving, long-term lesbian relationship. Don't like it? Don't read it…
Website: ShatterStorm Productions - Mmm…Doctor!
Link to: http://md.shatterstorm.net/
Archive: ShatterStorm Productions only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…
Author’s Disclaimer: "Star Trek: The Next Generation," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Paramount Pictures, CBS Television, and several other people or companies over the years. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Star Trek: The Next Generation," Paramount Pictures, or any representatives of Marina Sirtis or Gates McFadden.
Author’s Notes: This started out as a light and fluffy ficlet for leyenn…or it was supposed to be. But my muses thankfully only kept this bout of angst relatively short. Which is always a good thing.
This story is proof of my theory/habit of never declaring a fandom or pairing as completely gone for me. I haven't written for this particular pairing in probably 7 years or more. And yet, here's 1000+ words on my original femslash pairing. I'll admit it felt a bit odd to be writing for them again, but at the same time, it felt fabulous. I've missed these two, more than I can express. So a big thank you goes out to leyenn for the request…
Dedication: To my Deanna & Bev muses, because they've never actually left me after all these years…
Beta: forensicgater
"Turmoil"
by A. Magiluna Stormwriter
"It's called being busy."
"No, it's called not fair," she snaps. "Deanna, you know what this means to me."
"Of course, I know what it means to you," I reply gently, sending a tendril of calming love her way. "It happens to mean a great deal to me, as well, Bev. But that doesn't change the fact that I've work that needs to be done."
I can clearly picture the scowl on Beverly's face, her blue eyes flashing with frustrated anger. She's probably pacing restlessly in the holodeck, waiting for me. We've had this event planned for weeks. Leave it to an Away Team coming into contact with an hallucinogenic plant, causing all sorts of mental and emotional issues for them to come down from. The fact that Will Riker was affected most strongly of all hasn't made the situation any better.
"Deanna, is it--? Is he okay?" It's as if she's read my mind.
"He will be," I finally say slowly. "He's sleeping right now, but I'm expecting more of the same when he does wake up."
"You sound exhausted," she says softly, and I slump back in my chair. "Are you sure you can handle this?"
No, I'm not sure, but I'll do my best to reassure. "I'll be fine. It's not as if I really have a choice, Beverly. He's just… This is definitely a drawback to treating a former lover."
How to explain to my lover that my former lover is reliving demons from our tempestuous relationship, as well as the latent guilt and jealousy toward both my relationship with his clone and my relationship with Beverly? My Bev may be progressive, but this would give even my mother and Chandra pause for consideration.
"Deanna?"
"Sorry, I'm still here. I just…"
"When's the last time you had more than a catnap while Will's down for the count?" When I don't answer quickly enough for her, I can clearly hear the sigh across the link. "I'll be there in a minute. Crusher out."
In practically no time at all, I can hear the chime at my office door. "Come in," I call out, hoping not to wake the softly snoring Will. I don't know that I can fend off another amorous encounter without drugging him unconscious. I smile wearily at my lover and watch as she makes her way around my desk to pull me up into a tight embrace. The scent of her surrounds me: her hair, her perfume, her. I can't keep such rigid hold on my self-control in the face of her presence; I cling to this lifeline of my sanity, let the tears free.
"Shh," she murmurs, stroking my hair. After the initial outburst, she leads me to the couch across from Will. She settles herself and pulls me down against her. "Lay down, sweetheart."
"But--"
"Deanna, you need to rest." Her fingers work through my hair, instilling a sense of calm and safety, and I can't help but stretch out with my head in her lap. "That's it, just relax. Sleep now, sweetheart. I'll be right here when you wake up."
~ ~ ~
I don't know how long I slept, I only know that I'm curled up in my bed when I do wake up. I feel worse now than I did when I went to sleep, which is never a good thing. Before I can even move to sit up, Beverly comes into the room to sit by me.
"How are you feeling, sweetheart?"
"Like I was trampled by a herd of wild targs," I mutter roughly as I sit up. "Where's Will? Why did you move me from my office? Damn it, Beverly, I was working!"
"Shh," she murmurs, a hand moving to my forehead. "Relax, Deanna."
"No! You can't pull me from my work like that." Something flashes in her eyes, but I can't stop myself. "I wouldn't pull you from your duties just because you'd lost a little sleep. How can you determine--"
"Lost a little sleep? Deanna, you've been in bed with a fever for the past three days. You contracted the illness planet-side on a mission. Will brought you back the minute you started showing signs of disorientation. Whatever you think has been happening has all been a dream."
I stare at her for a long moment, all of the details of what I thought happened the past few days running through my mind. Why the hell did I create the scenario I did? Why was I so focused on how Will was reacting to my relationships? What's going on with me? "Beverly, I-- I’m sorry," I finally say, feeling tears stinging my eyes.
"Feel up to talking about it, sweetheart?" she asks, pulling me closer, and strokes her hand down my back. I shake my head, not willing to trust my voice just yet. "It's okay. You rest now, regain your strength, and we'll talk about it later when you're feeling more up to it." Once again, I find myself reduced to tears with my Bev comforting me. This is… There's something wrong about this. I shouldn't be this emotionally distraught. "You're sick, Deanna. Give yourself a break. Don't worry about your dreams until you're physically better, then we can discuss them, okay?"
I nod slowly, snuggling in closer, and focus on the beating of her heart. "When did you become so good at psychology?" I murmur wearily.
"When I fell in love with a certain Betazoid counselor. It seemed appropriate that I learn more about her work." She presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head. "You're exhausted and weak, sweetheart. Let's leave this conversation for a later time when we're both up to it, okay?"
"Stay with me?" I ask softly, clinging ever more desperately to my lover.
"For as long as you want me to, sweetheart." She pulls away long enough to slip out of her clothes before crawling under the covers to pull me close again. "Rest now. I'll protect you while you sleep."