Only Time [Picard/Pulaski]
Title: Only Time
Fandom: Star Trek (TNG)
Pairing: Picard/Pulaski
Rating: PG.
Warning(s): obscure pairing, hooray~!
Words: 1790
Summary: The captain is relied on to make decisions affecting the very lives of his crew each and every day. This is normal, expected even- yet, one decision is far more difficult than the rest. Why? The captain is never supposed to feel in such a way toward another officer... A deeper look at the events of the episode, "Unnatural Selection". Summary here.
Author's Note: This pairing is pretty much my OTP for TNG, besides Data/Geordi... I don't know why more people don't like it! After seeing the episode, I absolutely had to write this... that episode just sealed the deal for me. Obviously the events in here are not original- the point of this fic is to delve into the thoughts and emotions behind the decisions made and actions taken during the course of the episode. Extrapolation, obviously! I just... I just love this pairing. Hope it's not too weird for you! Enjoy~
Last of the fic dump for today! \(^-^)/
~◦♥◦~
Silence rang out through the bridge, interrupted only by the electronic hums and beeps of the many panels on the walls. As each second crawled by, the tension jumped exponentially.
Picard was fully aware of all eyes upon him. Never had that ever bothered him, nor did it now. Being a subject of scrutiny came with his position- that was not the reason he felt his inner core weakening, a breach imminent.
They awaited his order. Even the helmsmen had turned about in their seats to see what was the matter.
“Captain--” Riker's voice was at his side, but Picard's eyes never left the main view screen. It was now or never- why was he hesitating? Every moment he wasted was another precious second they could have used to search for an answer.
“Main viewer on.” The words tasted of poison upon his lips. He had spoken them a thousand times before, and yet, this time, they were bitter with an aftertaste of finality.
An eerily cheerful whirr sounded as an image blinked into view. A collective gasp circulated about the bridge, not shared by the captain, for his mouth had gone dry and every muscle in his body locked.
Doctor Pulaski smiled weakly- perhaps that was all she could manage. She was not a young woman, and a few worry lines danced about her eyes; crows' feet appeared as her expression softened. Still, that was nothing compared to the image that faced her crewmates now.
This was the Pulaski of the far future, of white hair and countless wrinkles- a thousand smiles' worth. Her eyes were dull, missing that spark of sharpness usually glinting there. Even as she was sitting, her joints were visibly painful, the way she avoided placing pressure on them. She was a delicate piece of glass, no longer the tough and fearless officer they all knew so well.
Of anything that could have been done to her, this was the worst possible scenario. Picard fought to swallow, hands slowly clenching into nervous fists. If she had been physically wounded in some way, he would have worried; knocked unconscious by a heavy blow, he would have worried; if she had undergone some mentally disturbing experience, he would have worried.
This was beyond worry- this sight physically hurt.
She spoke of this being her last medical log, her voice feeble, breaking on too many syllables. She spoke of great leaps forward in science and their costs as her throat sounded just as dry as Picard's felt. She declared that the quarantine on the station could never be lifted, and those immune would have to live out their lives in misery- how little she knew; if she let herself go just then, she would be condemning her captain to the same fate.
How little she knew indeed.
The moment was gone, the hated image erased. Riker was speaking to him, making some undoubtedly professionally helpful recommendation, but his words drifted meaninglessly into the air.
“You have the bridge, number one. I will be in my ready room.” Picard intoned, cutting his first officer off mid-sentence.
Riker flinched slightly, taken aback at his captain's response. Picard turned away, meeting no one's eyes as he strode into his ready room.
Troi looked to Riker, her dark eyes pleadingly searching for approval to go to the captain, but he gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head. Leave him be, the gesture seemed to say. This he must work out on his own.
It was the first time Picard had ever felt tears threatening while on the bridge of his own ship. No amount of counseling or empathic introspection could erase that fact.
It was the first time Picard had ever felt such intensely personal pain at the sight of a fellow officer.
~
It would take only time to steal away the doctor's life. Yet what did the captain do about it? Waste it. He wasted time terribly as he sat in his ready room, fighting desperately to regain control of his own emotions.
Regulations were explicit when it came to such feelings between officers, most especially the captain and another officer. Who was he to question that? Never had he found himself so displeased with a single rule. He understood the logic behind it, and yet, his emotions adamantly chose to remain blind to it.
She was the chief medical officer, the only one who could give him an order he was professionally obligated to follow. She also happened to be the only one who could truly try his patience in that way- she had a strong personality, one that nearly mirrored his. Though they often found themselves at odds with one another, their morals were rooted in the same place. They were more alike than either cared to admit- and Picard could not help but admire her strength. Who wouldn't? He tried to convince himself that it was mere professional admiration.
Yet- she was the only one who could have such a direct effect on his heart rate, pushing it to abnormal activity.
He knew exactly what he was feeling, and by now, it had manifested himself into a painful drive he could no longer ignore. What remained to be seen was how he could possibly deal with it- a transfer seemed the only viable option. That was the only way he could truly forget about her.
Forget- forgive and forget. Live and let die.
Silently, he damned such foolish notions. Their authors must have never known such love.
~
The figure on the transporter pad was phasing in and out- that hated image of the destroyed Pulaski; the perfect form of the doctor he knew so well.
Picard cursed under his breath, at the same time begging their frantic plan to work. It had to work- failure was an impossibility. He couldn't live with the knowledge that he had the chance to save Pulaski, and it hadn't worked.
That guilt would destroy him utterly, if her absence didn't end him first.
Please.
They need her- the crew- for the good of the ship.
They need her- her family- because she is beloved to them.
And I- I need her- for she is irreplaceable to me.
Please.
Please--
~
--and then she was in his arms, without either involved party meaning for anything to happen.
He was flooded with relief at the mere sight of her. She was alive, whole, perfect again. Ah, perhaps perfect was not the right word- but she was there, with all of her perfection and imperfection just the way he knew her.
She felt relief threatening to bring her to her knees, at the mere sight of her own hands, with only their callouses from work marring their appearance- and that, she didn't even mind.
Someone caught her before she could fall, but in her moment of weakness she could barely form a word of thanks. Somehow her arms wrapped around that person's neck, and as her fingertips brushed across the collar of that person's uniform, she realized with a start that it was the captain. Blood rushed up relentlessly to her face, and she was grateful that the embrace lasted as long as it did. For multiple reasons.
Then she was being held by the shoulders, greeted by a genuine smile on the countenance of her captain. Beyond professional relief at having the position of chief medical officer filled, there was much more than that in the depths of his eyes. Why would the heat in her face not go away--?
And then others came to her, and her strength returned. More embraces, but these felt different. These did not carry the same emotional response within her than that first encounter did.
She was alive, for the moment at least.
During their time in the transporter room, bursting with joy, the captain's eyes never left the doctor once.
~
The captain escorted the doctor back to the bridge, beaming the entire course of the way. As they walked in stride with one another, Pulaski noticed how close they were- more than once, she felt their fingers brush together.
Just when her face had been beginning to cool, too... she turned away, feigning an acute interest in the blank panels along the walls. She clung to the frantic hope that the captain would not notice the redness tinging her cheeks.
He, on the other hand, happened to be a bit more adept at hiding it.
Suddenly, his hand caught hers, and Pulaski's head snapped around, eyes wide with shock. A slight frown troubled the captain's lips.
“Are you feeling alright, doctor? Steady on your feet?”
Pulaski blinked, rapidly gathering a stronger hold on her understanding of language, which had decided to abandon her in that moment. Where was her characteristic sharp tongue?
“I'm alright, thank you for the concern sir.” She nodded curtly, though did not release his hand.
A silent smile worked its way into Picard's countenance. Their steps came to rest as they approached the turbo-lift. He bowed forward slightly, gesturing for her to go ahead first.
“It's good to have you back, doctor.” was all he said, though the brightness in his eyes said much more than just that.
~
“The captain and the doctor. They are very sweet.”
Counselor Troi and Data walked side-by-side, the latter matching the former's movements as to keep perfect pace with her- as he always did, with anyone. The counselor wore a secretive smile, whereas the android's remained characteristically blank. At her words, his golden eyes narrowed slightly.
“It was remarkable of the captain to have executed such a maneuver, thereby saving the doctor's life.” He stated plainly, bare fact. This seemed to amuse Troi.
“Ah, did you not see it, Data? Between the two of them. Whether they know it themselves or not, I cannot be sure, but it is quite obvious, don't you think?”
“I must have missed it, counselor. Clarify?”
“They are like two pieces of the same puzzle.” Troi mused, lips forming a ruby-red smile. “Similar enough to be associated together, yet fitting together perfectly.”
Data's brow furrowed slightly, cocking his head to the side as his positronic mind flashed through its databanks. A metaphor- ah, he always had trouble with human metaphors...
“Similar yet fitting together...” He murmured, puzzling over the words. Individually, he understood their definitions; yet, placing them together like so was confusing enough, without then attempting to apply them to the captain and Doctor Pulaski...
The counselor's smile grew as her companion's curiosity and confusion became increasingly visible. “In time you'll see, Data.”
Perhaps the pieces themselves remained unaware that fate had already placed them together, interlocked in the vast fabric of eternity.
In time. It would take only time.
~◦♥◦~
Fandom: Star Trek (TNG)
Pairing: Picard/Pulaski
Rating: PG.
Warning(s): obscure pairing, hooray~!
Words: 1790
Summary: The captain is relied on to make decisions affecting the very lives of his crew each and every day. This is normal, expected even- yet, one decision is far more difficult than the rest. Why? The captain is never supposed to feel in such a way toward another officer... A deeper look at the events of the episode, "Unnatural Selection". Summary here.
Author's Note: This pairing is pretty much my OTP for TNG, besides Data/Geordi... I don't know why more people don't like it! After seeing the episode, I absolutely had to write this... that episode just sealed the deal for me. Obviously the events in here are not original- the point of this fic is to delve into the thoughts and emotions behind the decisions made and actions taken during the course of the episode. Extrapolation, obviously! I just... I just love this pairing. Hope it's not too weird for you! Enjoy~
Last of the fic dump for today! \(^-^)/
~◦♥◦~
Silence rang out through the bridge, interrupted only by the electronic hums and beeps of the many panels on the walls. As each second crawled by, the tension jumped exponentially.
Picard was fully aware of all eyes upon him. Never had that ever bothered him, nor did it now. Being a subject of scrutiny came with his position- that was not the reason he felt his inner core weakening, a breach imminent.
They awaited his order. Even the helmsmen had turned about in their seats to see what was the matter.
“Captain--” Riker's voice was at his side, but Picard's eyes never left the main view screen. It was now or never- why was he hesitating? Every moment he wasted was another precious second they could have used to search for an answer.
“Main viewer on.” The words tasted of poison upon his lips. He had spoken them a thousand times before, and yet, this time, they were bitter with an aftertaste of finality.
An eerily cheerful whirr sounded as an image blinked into view. A collective gasp circulated about the bridge, not shared by the captain, for his mouth had gone dry and every muscle in his body locked.
Doctor Pulaski smiled weakly- perhaps that was all she could manage. She was not a young woman, and a few worry lines danced about her eyes; crows' feet appeared as her expression softened. Still, that was nothing compared to the image that faced her crewmates now.
This was the Pulaski of the far future, of white hair and countless wrinkles- a thousand smiles' worth. Her eyes were dull, missing that spark of sharpness usually glinting there. Even as she was sitting, her joints were visibly painful, the way she avoided placing pressure on them. She was a delicate piece of glass, no longer the tough and fearless officer they all knew so well.
Of anything that could have been done to her, this was the worst possible scenario. Picard fought to swallow, hands slowly clenching into nervous fists. If she had been physically wounded in some way, he would have worried; knocked unconscious by a heavy blow, he would have worried; if she had undergone some mentally disturbing experience, he would have worried.
This was beyond worry- this sight physically hurt.
She spoke of this being her last medical log, her voice feeble, breaking on too many syllables. She spoke of great leaps forward in science and their costs as her throat sounded just as dry as Picard's felt. She declared that the quarantine on the station could never be lifted, and those immune would have to live out their lives in misery- how little she knew; if she let herself go just then, she would be condemning her captain to the same fate.
How little she knew indeed.
The moment was gone, the hated image erased. Riker was speaking to him, making some undoubtedly professionally helpful recommendation, but his words drifted meaninglessly into the air.
“You have the bridge, number one. I will be in my ready room.” Picard intoned, cutting his first officer off mid-sentence.
Riker flinched slightly, taken aback at his captain's response. Picard turned away, meeting no one's eyes as he strode into his ready room.
Troi looked to Riker, her dark eyes pleadingly searching for approval to go to the captain, but he gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head. Leave him be, the gesture seemed to say. This he must work out on his own.
It was the first time Picard had ever felt tears threatening while on the bridge of his own ship. No amount of counseling or empathic introspection could erase that fact.
It was the first time Picard had ever felt such intensely personal pain at the sight of a fellow officer.
~
It would take only time to steal away the doctor's life. Yet what did the captain do about it? Waste it. He wasted time terribly as he sat in his ready room, fighting desperately to regain control of his own emotions.
Regulations were explicit when it came to such feelings between officers, most especially the captain and another officer. Who was he to question that? Never had he found himself so displeased with a single rule. He understood the logic behind it, and yet, his emotions adamantly chose to remain blind to it.
She was the chief medical officer, the only one who could give him an order he was professionally obligated to follow. She also happened to be the only one who could truly try his patience in that way- she had a strong personality, one that nearly mirrored his. Though they often found themselves at odds with one another, their morals were rooted in the same place. They were more alike than either cared to admit- and Picard could not help but admire her strength. Who wouldn't? He tried to convince himself that it was mere professional admiration.
Yet- she was the only one who could have such a direct effect on his heart rate, pushing it to abnormal activity.
He knew exactly what he was feeling, and by now, it had manifested himself into a painful drive he could no longer ignore. What remained to be seen was how he could possibly deal with it- a transfer seemed the only viable option. That was the only way he could truly forget about her.
Forget- forgive and forget. Live and let die.
Silently, he damned such foolish notions. Their authors must have never known such love.
~
The figure on the transporter pad was phasing in and out- that hated image of the destroyed Pulaski; the perfect form of the doctor he knew so well.
Picard cursed under his breath, at the same time begging their frantic plan to work. It had to work- failure was an impossibility. He couldn't live with the knowledge that he had the chance to save Pulaski, and it hadn't worked.
That guilt would destroy him utterly, if her absence didn't end him first.
Please.
They need her- the crew- for the good of the ship.
They need her- her family- because she is beloved to them.
And I- I need her- for she is irreplaceable to me.
Please.
Please--
~
--and then she was in his arms, without either involved party meaning for anything to happen.
He was flooded with relief at the mere sight of her. She was alive, whole, perfect again. Ah, perhaps perfect was not the right word- but she was there, with all of her perfection and imperfection just the way he knew her.
She felt relief threatening to bring her to her knees, at the mere sight of her own hands, with only their callouses from work marring their appearance- and that, she didn't even mind.
Someone caught her before she could fall, but in her moment of weakness she could barely form a word of thanks. Somehow her arms wrapped around that person's neck, and as her fingertips brushed across the collar of that person's uniform, she realized with a start that it was the captain. Blood rushed up relentlessly to her face, and she was grateful that the embrace lasted as long as it did. For multiple reasons.
Then she was being held by the shoulders, greeted by a genuine smile on the countenance of her captain. Beyond professional relief at having the position of chief medical officer filled, there was much more than that in the depths of his eyes. Why would the heat in her face not go away--?
And then others came to her, and her strength returned. More embraces, but these felt different. These did not carry the same emotional response within her than that first encounter did.
She was alive, for the moment at least.
During their time in the transporter room, bursting with joy, the captain's eyes never left the doctor once.
~
The captain escorted the doctor back to the bridge, beaming the entire course of the way. As they walked in stride with one another, Pulaski noticed how close they were- more than once, she felt their fingers brush together.
Just when her face had been beginning to cool, too... she turned away, feigning an acute interest in the blank panels along the walls. She clung to the frantic hope that the captain would not notice the redness tinging her cheeks.
He, on the other hand, happened to be a bit more adept at hiding it.
Suddenly, his hand caught hers, and Pulaski's head snapped around, eyes wide with shock. A slight frown troubled the captain's lips.
“Are you feeling alright, doctor? Steady on your feet?”
Pulaski blinked, rapidly gathering a stronger hold on her understanding of language, which had decided to abandon her in that moment. Where was her characteristic sharp tongue?
“I'm alright, thank you for the concern sir.” She nodded curtly, though did not release his hand.
A silent smile worked its way into Picard's countenance. Their steps came to rest as they approached the turbo-lift. He bowed forward slightly, gesturing for her to go ahead first.
“It's good to have you back, doctor.” was all he said, though the brightness in his eyes said much more than just that.
~
“The captain and the doctor. They are very sweet.”
Counselor Troi and Data walked side-by-side, the latter matching the former's movements as to keep perfect pace with her- as he always did, with anyone. The counselor wore a secretive smile, whereas the android's remained characteristically blank. At her words, his golden eyes narrowed slightly.
“It was remarkable of the captain to have executed such a maneuver, thereby saving the doctor's life.” He stated plainly, bare fact. This seemed to amuse Troi.
“Ah, did you not see it, Data? Between the two of them. Whether they know it themselves or not, I cannot be sure, but it is quite obvious, don't you think?”
“I must have missed it, counselor. Clarify?”
“They are like two pieces of the same puzzle.” Troi mused, lips forming a ruby-red smile. “Similar enough to be associated together, yet fitting together perfectly.”
Data's brow furrowed slightly, cocking his head to the side as his positronic mind flashed through its databanks. A metaphor- ah, he always had trouble with human metaphors...
“Similar yet fitting together...” He murmured, puzzling over the words. Individually, he understood their definitions; yet, placing them together like so was confusing enough, without then attempting to apply them to the captain and Doctor Pulaski...
The counselor's smile grew as her companion's curiosity and confusion became increasingly visible. “In time you'll see, Data.”
Perhaps the pieces themselves remained unaware that fate had already placed them together, interlocked in the vast fabric of eternity.
In time. It would take only time.
~◦♥◦~