Protectively carrying the small box that contains her lamp, Deanna enters the reception area for the Vulcan meditation seminar. It is cast in shadow. Stars shine through portholes draped in sheer fabric and candlelight flickers against the darkness; the smell of incense in the air is unmistakable. She can't help but wonder what the actual meditation room will look like. If it's anything like this, she's likely to fall asleep instead of giving herself over to some much needed learning. Though rare, there can be such a thing as 'too peaceful'.

But for now—having arrived far earlier than necessary—Deanna is alone. There is no one else here and even if it is peaceful, she finds it a bit sobering.

She's never been to this particular starbase before and even if she had, Deanna isn't prone to wandering around by herself. Unaccompanied exploration is just another precursor to stress. And she's horrible with directions. With or without the help of the computer, Deanna can barely find her way around her own ship.

She did manage to make it here, though, so there is that.

Just before the box slips from her fingers, Deanna clutches it and hurriedly takes a seat by the nearest porthole. Her hands are sweaty and shaking and before she's even realized it, things are starting to spin around in her head again. So much for 'too peaceful'. She had hoped to avoid skepticism. She had hoped Captain Picard's wisdom and assurances would be enough. Apparently, nothing will be enough until Deanna finally gets to see Beverly later today. Whenever that is.

Knowing her, that conference could go on for hours past its official end; Professor Epstein is rather a favorite of Beverly's. Honestly, Beverly talks about him like he's her grandfather instead of a colleague, and seeing as how Deanna is currently feeling about Captain Picard, she can't say it's a misguided idea. Whether you mean for it to happen or not, in most cases, the roles within a family will be filled one way or other. The titles may differ but the meaning is the same. Deanna just never imagined would happen to her. But today, it has.

In fact, today, she hopes to experience a lot of new things; things that have absolutely nothing to do with Captain Picard or Professor Epstein and so far, Deanna's off to a good start.

She's not really sure what she expected, but Deanna never imagined Beverly would work quite this hard to make the next two days so perfect. The message she'd forwarded merely contained a suite number and entrance code. Both of which turned out to be misleading. They're not staying in regular crew or even civilian quarters. They're staying on the environmental ring of the starbase and unless you know their exact location, you won't find them because they're hidden away in a private section of the most beautifully engineered rainforest Deanna's ever come across.

Her home planet of Betazed is a natural oasis like no other; the tranquility Deanna is able to achieve within its beauty has yet to come from any other place. But here, surrounded by the highest of trees which form a canopy, only allowing for mere flashes of manufactured sunlight to penetrate; sounds of waterfalls, birds, and the movement of unseen creatures: well, it's the closest to home Deanna has felt in a long time.

And Beverly knows Deanna is homesick, therefore, she's done this on purpose.

"Hello," a voice in the darkness makes Deanna jump. It's a good thing she put the box down a few moments ago or she would have dropped it. "Am I in the right place?"

Right place for what, Deanna thinks, and then remembers why she's even in the room to begin with.

Oh, the seminar.

That's when it slowly beings to sink in that nothing about meditation will be learned today. Emptying her mind, gaining control of her thoughts and emotions will be an impossible task. Maybe whoever this is, will take notes for her.

The owner of that voice in the darkness, a woman, sits across from her. Deanna still hasn't answered the question, too busy taking everything in. From the start she knows this woman is absolutely sure of herself. In fact, Deanna's certain she's attending this seminar more out of fun than need; simply seeking knowledge as an afterthought. And by the look in her eyes and brilliant smile on her face it's easy to sense fun and adventure are undoubtedly her primary mission in life…which has been a long one.

For this woman, time is not just irrelevant; it has no meaning at all.

The woman looks at Deanna thoughtfully, probably noticing the absence of color in her eyes. "You're a Betazoid," she says, head tilting slightly, drawing attention to her hat. It's vibrant indigo in color; the top is flat, circular and wide. The color theme continues throughout her clothing. Layers of fabric seem to go on for miles.

"I'm sorry," Deanna shakes her head, as if that will clear anything up for her, and presses a hand to her temple. "Please forgive me. You are in the right place…if you're here for the meditation seminar. And yes. I am from Betazed." And just because she's so used to clarifying, Deanna adds, "But I am not a full telepath. Only empathic. My father is…was human."

"I see," the woman smiles again and leans forward a bit. "My name is Guinan. And I'm…a good listener."

Oh, she's more than just a good listener. But Deanna feels like it would be rude to ask for specifics. After all, this is not a counseling session.

"And your name is?"

"Deanna," she says, officially horrified by her behavior. This is no way to act. She's got to pull herself together.

For a few minutes they sit in silence, and yet, Deanna might not want to pry into Guinan's life but for some reason she's ready to say all sorts of things. The woman that never volunteers anything of importance about herself to strangers beyond what she is, is suddenly in dire need to do so—which is the oddest sensation.

Two more minutes go by and Deanna breaks. Once again, Guinan's smile is as bright as a star.

Before she knows it, she's told Guinan most of her life story and the further and further she gets into it, the closer and closer Guinan moves her chair. By the time Deanna gets to the part about Will and all that stupid Imzadi business and how she only ended up with a broken heart to show for it, Guinan's practically right in front of her face, completely enthralled with Deanna's incredible tale of idiocy.

"And now I'm here with my…my…" Deanna stumbles on the word briefly. When it feels like everything is hanging by a thread, what is Beverly, exactly? Well, for now, in this situation, she will say, "My friend, Beverly," and let that suffice.

After that little stumble over phrasing is successfully negotiated, Deanna keeps right on, gushing about how Beverly is attentive and caring and so easy to be with and how she enjoys spending every moment available with her. Of course, Deanna leaves out the parts about how Beverly has been ignoring her and how much it hurt. None of that matters anyway because Beverly is in love with her.

Ironically, that thought and subsequent omission causes a pain in her chest. Though Deanna's not sure why, perhaps she should admit her true feelings to Guinan?

Thinking that this will alleviate the slight discomfort that is only increasing as each second ticks by, Deanna relents. "I'm in love with her," she says, hastily. "I just haven't told her yet. I'm going to, though. Today." Strangely enough, her confession doesn't help the ache go away. What's more, the kind of anxiety sets in that Deanna hates the most.

But this shouldn't be happening.

She's not in the midst of a crisis on the bridge or away mission; the kind of crisis that usually attributes to a debilitating headache, panic attack or worse—unconsciousness.

"Are you alright?" Guinan's voice sounds worried but distant, not close at all like it was a few moments ago. It sounds as if she's standing all the way across the room, but she's still right in front of Deanna and, now, very much in her face, obviously concerned.

You really have to stop this, Deanna.

She tells herself this often enough and it usually works. But not in this case, as anxiety is quickly accompanied by intense fear and desperation. It's like a crushing wave coming toward her, making it difficult to breathe.

Instinctively, Deanna taps her combadge. Her emotional state is already out of balance enough as it is, considering today's events. Whatever is going on now could mean serious trouble for her physically if she's not careful. Which means she needs her doctor. She needs Beverly.

Only thing is, her combadge isn't working.

Because it isn't there.

Deanna took it off when she left their little house—that's what she's decided to call it no matter what it's classified as—in the rainforest, intent on divesting herself of as much distraction during the seminar as possible. Yes, she'd left her combadge and a note on the table nearest the front door to tell Beverly where she would be and when she'd be back and that she had so much to say.

Even as everything around her starts to become distorted and she tries to tap at the nonexistent combadge again, Deanna is somehow able to recall one of those bedrooms is absolutely pointless because they won't need it. Beverly will be at her mercy before this is over…in a multitude of ways.

Leave it to a brilliant doctor to second-guess herself into oblivion. I want her more than anything else. Doesn't she know? Why doesn't she know…

Whatever is happening, it feels like Deanna's head is about to split in two. What she is feeling is coming from someone else and she can't control it. She can't shut it out. And there's a reason.

Beverly.

Deanna can see her so clearly: running through corridors, pushing her way through crowds of people. Talk about new experiences. This has definitely never happened before. Sensing emotions are one thing. Actually seeing the person in her head that those emotions belong to—with such clarity—well, it's new, to say the least.

Something must be wrong.

Something has happened.

And Beverly is looking for her.

Darkness takes hold. It's a defense mechanism manifesting itself in a physiological response. Deanna figured that out a long time ago but Beverly was the one to explain the particulars like only a doctor could. Something about her paracortex and a sudden imbalance in the psilosynine that serves as a neurotransmitter; meaning this will inevitably put her on the ground. Guinan won't know what to do. Nobody will know what to do.

Deanna taps at that nonexistent combadge one more time before she falls.

Only she doesn't fall. Suddenly, Guinan has slipped beyond Deanna's consciousness. In fact, she is not in the room. She's gone. Completely. But nevertheless, hands grab her, forcing her body back into the chair. A hypospray is pressed against her neck. Arms encircle her. The darkness begins to recede. Obviously, she has been found.

Well, it's about time.

"I'm so sorry," Beverly says, still the only thing that is keeping Deanna in place, kneeling on the floor in front of her. "I had no idea this could happen."

"What? That you could fall in love with me?" Deanna says, hurt and scared by Beverly's apology. Unable to think rationally, she decides to get confrontational while barely able to hold her head up. "You're sorry for falling in love with me, Beverly? How could you be sor—"

Beverly pushes Deanna back by the shoulders and for the first time in a few days, really in weeks, they look one another in the eyes. "That's not what I meant, Deanna," she interjects. "I meant that I didn't know it was possible for you to be so affected. This is my fault. I was so worried when I couldn't find you. Something happened and I just…needed you. I needed you, Deanna. I ran..."

Well, that doesn't necessarily clear the air. Or does it? Beverly needs Deanna. Perhaps that's as close to love as Beverly can say right now. As for how severely Deanna was affected, well, having never experienced such a powerful reaction to one person, she can't explain it so the shock is warranted for them both.

The hypospray Beverly's always insisted on carrying in her trusty lab coat—it's filled with all the right things to counteract the imbalance Deanna's psilosynine—has done its job admirably but she's still not all together yet and decides now is as good a time as any to be there for Beverly in the way that she chooses: still in the midst of 'confrontational'.

"You need me but you ignored me for weeks. You need me? You have a funny way of showing it, Beverly. It hurt. I thought you hated me!" Deanna gets louder with each word and the feelings build up to the point of needing more of an outlet than her voice. "I thought you wanted nothing to do with me," she continues, clutching Beverly by the shoulders, hardly noticing the arms that have tightened around her waist. "And I never knew what I did wrong…"

She can't continue. Putting a voice to her resentment doesn't feel like the right way to go about this. It's not really what either of them wants. Beverly knows what she did was stupid and Deanna knows why she did it and doesn't necessarily want kill her for it anymore. She's forgiven Beverly, and frankly, can't stand another moment of heartache and doubt inside the person she loves. Still, even after expressing her need, Beverly is uncertain and she is still holding back.

At this rate, she'll never learn.

Pulling her closer, Deanna takes a short yet deep breath beforehand because this is it. This has to happen. Now.

"You're always one step behind me…holding back. And I wish you wouldn't." Leaning in until she's speaking at a whisper right against Beverly's mouth she finishes. "I wish you'd love me like you want to, Beverly. And kiss me like you wa—"

"Are you sure?" Beverly asks, doubtful to the last.

Deanna's answer dies in her throat; words won't fix this.

By most standards, they're barely kissing at all. Gentle, tentative, almost like they're mutually afraid of devouring one another if not careful. Beverly's lips are soft, so soft and briefly, Deanna thinks of cherries; it's got to be the chap-stick. Deanna'd never heard of it before but Beverly is obsessive about it and… Well... No wonder she's usually too preoccupied with staring at Beverly's mouth to pay any attention to the agenda during staff meetings.

Unable to endure the delicious contrast of the sweet, feather-light kisses and the pounding of her heart any longer—Deanna hauls her forward by the lapels of her lab-coat. No doubt, her doctor gives a cry in surprise but comes forward eagerly to fit inside the space provided between Deanna's now parted legs. By now, her knees are probably giving a great protest but it's obvious she doesn't care.

Before Deanna can maneuver beyond 'gentle' and 'tentative', Beverly cups the side of her face, keeping her still, stopping her just in the nick of time. The confines of 'friendship' have never afforded touching. Not like this. But while she might have been denying herself the privilege of admitting it, Deanna has wanted to experience these delicate, slender hands all over her body…because she knows she can trust them.

Without hesitation she relaxes into the touch, lost in the feeling of it already.

"I am in love you," Beverly says, pressing her body flush against Deanna. The heat formed in their embrace is reason enough for Deanna's toes to curl—to say nothing of the wild look in Beverly deep blue eyes. "In case you didn't know," she finishes with that same wild look.

Oh, I knew. I think I always did.

Prying her hands away from Beverly's coat, she slips them up and into flaming red hair that's also—like Beverly's lips—always got her attention and something she's been dying to touch. "I missed it," she says, restraining herself enough to get the words out. "How we both felt...I kept myself from believing it. But I need you, too. I've been in love with you this whole time, Beverly. I know that now."

Once that's out of the way, Deanna is determined to deepen their kiss. Thinking that, surely, this ought to take care of any lingering doubt; she puts a hand to the back of Beverly's neck, drawing her in, leaving no room for anything but surrender.

It works perfectly; Beverly is transformed, no longer careful, and unlike she'd originally planned, Deanna is unexpectedly at her mercy. The tender affection always displayed is replaced with passion, pent-up desire and pure lust.

Masterfully, it creates a new scene in her head: Though in the same room, in the same chair, Deanna can see herself naked and writhing underneath Beverly on the floor. It's raw, hurried; almost primal the way she is being loved and satisfied and…taken. Finally, everything Beverly feels is given freely and Deanna's only recourse, in their reality, is to wrap both her arms around Beverly's neck as she is swept up in need.

To Be Continued