Author's Note: Merry Christmas to all those P/C fans out there. This is
just something I came up with while watching Patrick Stewart's version of "A
Christmas Carol" on TNT.

 Disclaimer: Paramount, the great and powerful, owns all of Star
Trek. Charles Dickens wrote the play, which has withstood numerous
adaptations, and whose ideas, even today, ring true throughout the universe.
I merely claim this story.
 

The Play

"That which promised happiness when we were one in heart, is fraught with
misery now that we are two. How often and how keenly I have thought of this,
I will not say. It is enough that I *have* thought of it, and can release
you.'"

The old man, looking on unnoticed at the couple a few feet away, walked
toward the snow-covered bench where they were seated.

"No, no," he pleaded to their unhearing ears.

"Have I ever sought release?'" the younger man asked the girl.

"In words. No. Never."

"In what, then?"

"In a changed nature; in an altered spirit; in another atmosphere of life;
another hope as its great end. In everything that made my love of any worth
or value in your sight. If this had never been between us," said the girl,
looking mildly, but with steadiness, upon him; "tell me, would you seek me
out and try to win me now? Ah, no!"

He seemed to yield to the justice of this supposition, in spite of himself.
But he said with a struggle, "You think not."

The old man walked closer to the couple. "Speak to her," he pleaded.
Glancing over his shoulder to the figure that also observed the couple, he
asked, "Why doesn't he speak to her?"

The girl continued speaking to the young man. "But if you were free today,
tomorrow, yesterday, can even I believe that you would choose a poor girl --
you who, in your very confidence with her, weigh everything by gain. Do I
not know that your repentance and regret would surely follow? I do; and I
release you. With a full heart, for the love of him you once were."

The young man remained silent as the girl rose from the bench.

"Go after her," the old man cried, his eyes filled with unshed tears. "Don'
t be afraid. Go after her."

The youth sat quietly on the bench as the girl's image faded from his view.

Shaking with anger, the old man turned to his companion. "No more," he
demanded. "Show me no more. Take me home. Why..." He paused for a moment
and then continued. "Why .."

The man's head dropped to his chest and he closed his eyes. He looked up
again, staring into the darkness that surrounded him. "I'm sorry. Line?"

From the sidelines, the unseen woman smiled to herself. "Why do you delight
in torturing me?" she replied to his query.

He chuckled. "Yes, indeed. This *must* seem like torture to you." His
smile faded a bit. "I'm sorry, Beverly. This is not as easy as I thought
it would be." He paused for a moment, considering his words. He did not
want to hurt her feelings. "Beverly, I know a director has the right to
poetic license, but I've read this story a hundred times. There were never
this many lines to remember. Why does the older Scrooge have to go *on* so
with his younger self about going after Belle? Why not just do it as
written? Scrooge and the Ghost of Christmas Past watch the scene unfold and
he asks that they leave. I see no reason to add to it."

Beverly crossed her arms and forced herself not to smile. She knew that
Jean-Luc was still reluctant to play the part of Scrooge in her latest
production. After weeks of prodding him on the subject, he had finally
agreed to give it a try, but only if they secretly worked on the project on
the holodeck first.

"Jean-Luc, this is a 'play', not a short story. You have to add to each
scene or the audience will not understand what is going on. We can't just
have Scrooge standing solemnly on the sidelines as each scene plays out. We
have to tell the audience what is going on in his mind and the only way you
can do that is through dialog." She paused a moment and walked over to him,
placing her hand gently on his forearm. "You're doing fine. We just need
to run through this a few more times and I'm sure you'll have it."

Jean-Luc let out a frustrated sigh. He still didn't quite realize why he
had agreed to do this. He was a starship captain, not an actor. His first
answer to her request had been a definite "no, no way, not on your life."
But she would not let the subject drop. Every time he saw her, she would
find a way to change to subject and remind him of the upcoming production.
Finally, he had agreed. At the time, it seemed like a good idea. He would
agree to work with her privately and she eventually would realize that he
was not right for the part, or any part at all in her productions if he
played his cards right. The plan backfired, however, when the two began
working together. He found that he was beginning to enjoy working privately
with the good doctor. It was a good excuse to be near her. They would work
on the play on the holodeck and afterwards share dinner together. They had
talked about the production until the wee hours of the morning on numerous
occasions over the past few weeks. He couldn't help but hope that one of
these nights they would end up sharing more than the play. As of yet, that
had not happened, but he was not willing to give up trying.

He placed the script on the stool next to him and raked his hand over his
head, returning his thoughts to the scene he was rehearsing. More than any
other in the play, this scene was the one he most dreaded. The regrets of
an old man, looking back on his youth and the love he gave up for his
ambitions, played a little too close to home. He recognized the emotions of
Scrooge. He knew them all too well, but he wasn't sure if he was willing to
let those emotions loose, not in a play, and especially not in front of
Beverly right now. He turned to her and purposely showed his fatigue.
"Maybe we should continue this tomorrow, Beverly. It's been a long day and
I'm getting hungry. Perhaps we can discuss it further after dinner."

Beverly tilted her head to the side and studied him for a moment. She
couldn't help but feel that he was purposely trying to avoid working further
on the scene. Jean-Luc had progressed as an actor much further than she had
expected. This scene, from an actor's standpoint, was less difficult that
some of the others he had mastered. He wasn't fooling her for a minute.
Something was bothering him, but she wasn't sure what it was. His
suggestion that they continue the discussion after dinner was clearly a
tactical delay. He wasn't ready to discuss the problem yet. Perhaps a
break was a good idea. She allowed a small smile to cross her face.

"All right, we'll stop for now." She threw up her hands in mock disgust.
"You actors are all alike, so temperamental, always needing to have it your
own way."

He chuckled at her teasing. "It's your own fault, you know. You talked me
into this."

"I guess I did," she laughed. "But I think I've created a monster."

Dinner progressed as many had in the past weeks. They discussed a few items
of normal ship's business, but always ending up talking about the play.
Unlike other nights, however, Jean-Luc seemed to avoid the topic of Scrooge'
s character, focusing instead on production ideas and casting other parts.
Beverly was intrigued by his sudden interest in the production. She
realized, however, that he was purposely avoiding discussing the scene they
had been working on earlier on the holodeck.

"What do you think about asking Data to play Bob Cratchit?" he asked
excitedly while pouring her a glass of after-dinner wine.

She accepted the glass he offered and followed him over to the sofa. "You'
re really getting into this, aren't you? I hope you show this much energy
when we work on your new scene tomorrow."

As they sat down next to each other, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
He dreaded the idea of working on the new scene with her. It was true, he
was enjoying working on the play, but not necessarily for the same reasons
as Beverly. As far as he was concerned, they could have been working
together on fungal specimens and it would have had the same effect on him.
He felt embarrassed at his show of enthusiasm, even a little guilty, as if
he were using her interest in the theater to indulge himself in his own
desires to be near to her.

"Well, it has been interesting and, after all, I've always enjoyed reading
Dickens. The play is sort of an extension of that."

Beverly's smile faded. Perhaps she had teased Jean-Luc a little too much.
His answer was perfectly logical, but his embarrassment had not escaped her.
She hoped that she wasn't reading too much into his behavior. Ever since he
had agreed to work with her on the play, they had spent much of their free
time together. She had to admit, she was beginning to enjoy their private
time together and secretly hoped that he felt the same way. His answer to
her earlier question though, made her question whether or not he was happy
working with her, or if he merely enjoying the works of a great author. She
decided not to make too much of his earlier enthusiasm.

"Actually, I think Data would make an excellent Cratchit. I was going to
ask him about it later this week. I thought he might enjoy the challenge."

Picard nodded and tried to mask his discomfort with a forced smile. His
attempt didn't go unnoticed. She touched him lightly on the arm.

"So, do you want to talk about the scene we worked on today?" she asked.

Picard studied his glass for a moment. Perhaps he could still talk Beverly
out of changing the scene from it's original form.

"I just thought that Dickens' interpretation of the scene seemed quite
adequate, that's all. The extra dialog just seemed unnecessary. Why not
just play it as written?"

She knew there was something more to Jean-Luc's reluctance to change the
scene.

"Jean-Luc, extra dialog's been added to almost every scene in the play. If
we played it as written by Dickens, everyone would be lost. Why is this
scene so different? It's not like you have to memorize a speech or
something."

Picard stood suddenly and crossed the room, his discomfort evident. Perhaps
he could play on her sympathies without giving away too much.

"Beverly, it's not the words that bother me, it's the emotions behind those
words. I just don't know if I can play it convincingly without making a
fool of myself in the process."

She didn't buy it. "Jean-Luc, it's really no different than any other scene
with Scrooge and the spirits. Draw from your own experiences, your own
feelings, just like you have in the other parts of the play. Scrooge
regrets loosing Belle because of his own ambitions. Surely, you've
experienced those types of emotions before."

Beverly regretted her words as soon as she spoke them. She had not been
thinking of Jean-Luc personally, but responding as a director to any actor
who needed guidance on a scene. His body stiffened and he turned away from
her. She immediately crossed the room and stood behind him. Her words were
inexcusable. Jean-Luc Picard was a man who had accomplished many things in
his life, but those accomplishments had not come without a price. It
suddenly dawned on her why this scene in particular had been so difficult
for him. *She* was one of those regrets. "Jean-Luc, I'm sorry. I didn't
mean."

Picard pulled down at his shirt and straightened his body. "No, Doctor, you
're quite right," he said firmly. He forced a smile and turned to face her.
"I'll endeavor to work on it tomorrow." He paused for a moment, trying to
keep his tone casual. "Well, we've both got a busy day in the morning. I
think we should call it a night." When she didn't reply immediately, he
nodded and started to walk past her to the door. She stopped him with a
touch on his arm.

"Jean-Luc, don't." She pleaded for him to look at her, but his eyes
remained focused on the floor. "Don't walk away. We need to talk about
this."

For a moment, he considered feigning ignorance, but realized that she knew
him too well. His voice was barely a whisper. "What's past is past,
Beverly. Talking about it won't make it change."

Beverly forced herself to look at his downcast eyes. She knew that he was
still in love with her. He had revealed his secret a few years before. He
had been in love with her since they first met, before she had married Jack.
Since then, they had remained friends, even though she knew that he still
wanted more from their relationship.

Her heart clinched at the finality of his words, not out of pity for him,
but out of sorrow for what they had both endured. It was a sorrow born out
of fear, fear that if they followed their hearts and circumstances of their
lives pulled them apart, that neither could survive the separation. It
seemed like a foolish fear now, lessened by the regret that she heard in his
voice and the longing for what could have been that she felt in her own
heart. It didn't have to be this way.

"We don't have to live in the past, Jean-Luc. It doesn't have to control
us," she said softly as she stepped closer to him, forcing his gaze to meet
hers. "We still control what is to come." With her last words, she leaned
in yet closer to him and gently brushed her lips across his.

At first, he did not respond to the kiss, his heart afraid to comprehend her
words and actions. When she leaned in again, her arms encircled his neck
and held him to her, deepening the kiss until he also embraced her fully
against him. It was a kiss born of promise, not of passion, a kiss to wipe
away the regrets of two souls that would never again part, never again to be
alone in the universe.

Merry Christmas!!!!

The END