ficlet: Dear Beverly.. (VOY/TNG) Crusher/Janeway
I have this pet universe where Beverly Crusher and Kathryn Janeway are dating. I like it. It's pretty much just mine...but it works for me.
A letter, from KJ to BC that I'm particularly pleased with.
Dear Beverly,
You're right. I'll admit it this once and save myself on the humiliation for few weeks. Taking a hypo to counteract caffeine does help me sleep, but it's really not the same. Perhaps I've become too accustomed to having someone in my bed at night to feel comfortable with it empty. I think that I'm missing Earth, than I realise it's your apartment by the waterfront and the sound of you making coffee in the morning that I really miss.
My replicator's already frustrated that I don't find it a fair substitute for you. I've had to eat in the mess hall most days so I don't press my luck.
We're doing our second survey of the area along the Badlands. Oddly, though this was what Voyager was designed to do so many years ago, after the Delta Quadrant, the Badlands just isn't as exciting as it would once have been. There's no Dominion activity, thank all the gods for that, and it's quiet. The only structures we've found are long dead. It's a land of ghosts again, perhaps it always has been.
How are the vaccination programs coming? You said you were getting closer and closer to a working trail for Romulan Cuperic Fever? I should get into the habit of reading your letters again before I write, but even when we're not doing anything important, I still find a way to be overly busy.
Yes, I can make a stellar survey a nightmare for myself in terms of paperwork. No, I don't really know why I've been cursed with that particular demon.
When I ask you again why I agreed to take this mission, remind me I love the way the stars look outside the mess hall windows and that I don't feel as at home anywhere but in the big chair in the centre of the bridge. My desk at Starfleet Command isn't even comfortable.
It's still less than perfect, and I've been blaming that on the empty centre of the bed. You know it wouldn't be fair to say you have a side. You've always been more centrifugal in your approach to the bed. I miss you. More than coffee and the warmth of your skin, I miss you. I don't laugh the same way without you. I can't say I don't laugh...but something's missing.
Are you sure you don't want to do a tour as the CMO of a tiny little ship on a boring little survey mission? I could put in a good word with the admiral in charge. She's a little bit of a head case but she has a great heart when you get to know her.
At least, so I'm told.
Do you remember, two letters ago when you went on for eight pages about what you'd seen at the botanical conference for new medicinal plants and then apologised profusely and threatened not to send it?
I've been rereading that before I fall asleep, imagining you pacing around your dining room while I eat, telling me everything you've wondered at during the day. I'm so glad you decided to send it after all.
Yes, I've been working on my Mok'bara but you're still going to crack me into the floor. I've always been terrible at meditating.
Back to the bridge, there's a plasma flare that needs my undivided attention.
All my love,
Kathryn
P.S. -
The plasma flare ended up having to make do with my much distracted mind. Somehow, days I get your letters always end up being like that. Not that I mind in the slightest, nor should this be taken as a reason to write less or combine letters. The plasma flare eventually got over his indignation and was quite beautiful.
Which again, made me think of you.
- K
A letter, from KJ to BC that I'm particularly pleased with.
Dear Beverly,
You're right. I'll admit it this once and save myself on the humiliation for few weeks. Taking a hypo to counteract caffeine does help me sleep, but it's really not the same. Perhaps I've become too accustomed to having someone in my bed at night to feel comfortable with it empty. I think that I'm missing Earth, than I realise it's your apartment by the waterfront and the sound of you making coffee in the morning that I really miss.
My replicator's already frustrated that I don't find it a fair substitute for you. I've had to eat in the mess hall most days so I don't press my luck.
We're doing our second survey of the area along the Badlands. Oddly, though this was what Voyager was designed to do so many years ago, after the Delta Quadrant, the Badlands just isn't as exciting as it would once have been. There's no Dominion activity, thank all the gods for that, and it's quiet. The only structures we've found are long dead. It's a land of ghosts again, perhaps it always has been.
How are the vaccination programs coming? You said you were getting closer and closer to a working trail for Romulan Cuperic Fever? I should get into the habit of reading your letters again before I write, but even when we're not doing anything important, I still find a way to be overly busy.
Yes, I can make a stellar survey a nightmare for myself in terms of paperwork. No, I don't really know why I've been cursed with that particular demon.
When I ask you again why I agreed to take this mission, remind me I love the way the stars look outside the mess hall windows and that I don't feel as at home anywhere but in the big chair in the centre of the bridge. My desk at Starfleet Command isn't even comfortable.
It's still less than perfect, and I've been blaming that on the empty centre of the bed. You know it wouldn't be fair to say you have a side. You've always been more centrifugal in your approach to the bed. I miss you. More than coffee and the warmth of your skin, I miss you. I don't laugh the same way without you. I can't say I don't laugh...but something's missing.
Are you sure you don't want to do a tour as the CMO of a tiny little ship on a boring little survey mission? I could put in a good word with the admiral in charge. She's a little bit of a head case but she has a great heart when you get to know her.
At least, so I'm told.
Do you remember, two letters ago when you went on for eight pages about what you'd seen at the botanical conference for new medicinal plants and then apologised profusely and threatened not to send it?
I've been rereading that before I fall asleep, imagining you pacing around your dining room while I eat, telling me everything you've wondered at during the day. I'm so glad you decided to send it after all.
Yes, I've been working on my Mok'bara but you're still going to crack me into the floor. I've always been terrible at meditating.
Back to the bridge, there's a plasma flare that needs my undivided attention.
All my love,
Kathryn
P.S. -
The plasma flare ended up having to make do with my much distracted mind. Somehow, days I get your letters always end up being like that. Not that I mind in the slightest, nor should this be taken as a reason to write less or combine letters. The plasma flare eventually got over his indignation and was quite beautiful.
Which again, made me think of you.
- K