Title: Lost Time
C, T (implied R/T)
Disclaimer: Only because I have to
This one was sparked by Sarajayne, so I hope she enjoys. It takes place a week after her story 'The Bold and the Shy'.
"Deanna, are you injured?" Doctor Beverly Crusher pulled the Ship's Counselor aside as the Senior Staff of the Enterprise was filing out of the conference room after the briefing. "You keep rubbing your neck and I noticed you were sitting stiffly throughout the meeting. Is everything all right?" Nothing missed her eagle eye when it came to the slightest discomfort among any of the crew. She gestured to Troi who was once again absently touching the back of her neck.
"It's nothing, Beverly, really." Deanna watched out of the corner of her eye as the last few people left the room. Before heading to the bridge, Commander William Riker shot her a quizzical glance and she smiled weakly in return as he left. Then her attention was thrust back to the Chief Medical Officer who wouldn't leave well enough alone.
"Deanna, I can tell that something's bothering you. Now take your hand away from there and let me have a look at it. Flagship or no, this crew should be known as the hardest to treat in the 'fleet'." She said this mostly to herself, reaching for the medical tricorder which never left her side. She placed her right hand over Troi's and firmly pulled the Counselor's away from her neck.
Deanna inched forward, away from her. "I am just fine, thank you Doctor. Don't you have better things to do than trapping officers on their way out of staff meetings and subjecting them to medscans?"
"Now I know you're hiding something." Crusher smiled and approached again. "I could pull you from duty and order you to Sickbay," she threatened, a wicked gleam in her blue eyes. She was not really concerned; Deanna seemed relatively fine but Beverly wanted to make sure. "It can't be any worse than having to get that tattoo off of Will's behind last week you know."
Troi nodded, defeated, and dropped her head as Beverly closed the door to the conference room. She could sense that there was no way Crusher was going to let this go without getting to the bottom of it. The doctor walked back over to Deanna again and lifted her friend's hair away from her neck with one hand, medical tricorder at the ready.
On the back of Deanna's neck, leading down beneath her collar was a two-inch
wide section of skin, rubbed completely raw. Parts of the abrasion were an angry
red and the remainder was purple and starting to scab over. Crusher ran her
index finger over the worst of it and Deanna jumped slightly as she flinched.
"What have you done to yourself?" Crusher asked, confounded. "It looks painful."
"It really doesn't hurt that much. I never even felt it until an hour before the meeting." Deanna tried for a smile, hoping Beverly would let it go at that. She tried to move away again and was blocked, again.
"Don't be silly. All you need are a couple of minutes with a dermal regenerator and you'll be fine. Wait a second," she paused, looking for the edge of the abrasion and pushing Deanna's collar aside. "Where does it end? It looks almost like a friction burnů" Crusher trailed off, noting the color that rushed to the Counselor's cheeks as she stood there with her head down. Beverly stepped back and placed her hands on her hips, surveying her patient visually. Then she aimed the tricorder at the top of Troi's head and ran it slowly over her, stopping at her feet; clucking her tongue at the results of the scan.
"Do you want to tell me how you got 'rug burn' from your neck to the base of your spine, or should I guess?" Crusher blew some air out from between clenched teeth. "What were you doing that you didn't feel when that happened? You know I told Will no sex till his skin fully healed in a few weeks from now. "
The secret out, Deanna looked up from the patch of floor she had been studying intently and raised an eyebrow, no longer embarrassed. "Did you really think that would stop Will Riker? You just made him more inventive. I may never be able to look at my office floor again in the same way."
Beverly sighed and put the tricorder away. "I should have known better. You're going to have to come to Sickbay so I can take care of this for you. At this rate, I should keep a biobed reserved for the two of you."
Troi stifled a laugh as she walked through the door and left the conference
room, Crusher in her wake.
"That's not what I meant, Deanna." She couldn't hold her laughter in anymore, either. As they headed towards the turbolift the two women attempted to maintain professional demeanors, nodding to passing crew members in the corridor. Once the lift doors closed however, Crusher smiled grimly.
"If you two keep this up, I'll have to be the one to explain to the Captain that his First Officer and Ship's Counselor turned le petit mort into le grand mort and are lying in the morgue. I am not looking forward to that, Deanna. Am I going to have to keep you isolated from each other until the wedding?" She snorted. "Who am I kidding? You'll find a way around that too and wind up in Sickbay with force field burns."
Deanna inclined her head in acknowledgement. "Will and I are only making up for lost time, Beverly." The turbo lift doors opened. "You should try it sometime." With that parting shot she winked and exited the lift, knowing that Crusher wouldn't want to continue this discussion in her Sickbay.