'Why don't you go visit Francesca in sickbay, Benton? I think she'd really appreciate that. You know she thinks the world of you," Jenara had said only a few minutes earlier.
Yes, I suppose I do know that, thought Benton, but it wasn't a fact he enjoyed admitting even to himself. Francesca had such an intense, innocent exuberance about her; she seemed to unquestioningly admire and trust Benton no matter what he did or how he tried to dodge her attention. Her flighty enthusiasm usually left him flustered and at a loss for words trying to keep up.
At least he was pretty sure it was her enthusiasm that flustered him. An alternate theory briefly diverted Benton's train of thought with a memory of Francesca posing for him in her skimpy Xenon III outfit under the forest canopy. Annoyed and a little embarrassed, Benton quickly banished that thought.
Benton respected and even liked Francesca. He knew that he would never find a truer friend anywhere. But his first priority was to his duty and his oath, not trying to keep pace with a giddy girlfriend. He was a serious professional, and although she was an extremely competent officer, she usually came off as a goofball. The two of them were a hopeless match, and he had told Francesca that several times, yet that didn't deter the persistent young woman. If anything, it just encouraged her to try harder!
See? She's doing it to me again! It was with confused thoughts like these spinning around his usually calm Kelvan brain that Benton made his way to sickbay.
Vague trepidation about the imminent encounter gave way quickly to resignation when Benton heard Francesca's shouting voice coming from the other side of the sickbay door. Benton steeled himself and went in.
Sure enough, there was Francesca squared off against Doctor Maruu. Obviously still wobbly, Francesca was holding on to the edge of her bed to keep from tipping over, while the brave doctor brandished a hypospray in one hand and was making placating gestures with the other.
"You can't keep me here!" Francesca was saying.
"Ensign... Francesca... Please. It's for your own good. You have a mild concussion," Dana was saying.
"Ah... Excuse me," said Benton hesitantly, almost dreading getting involved in this.
Both combatants turned their heads simultaneously toward the source of the interruption.
"Benton!" cried Francesca, relief plainly readable on her face. "I have to go see someone and Dana won't let me out of here."
Dana interjected before Francesca could continue. "Commander. I'm glad you're here. Could you give me a hand please?" She nodded her head in Francesca's direction.
"Of course," he said and stepped the rest of the way into sickbay. Maneuvering over to Francesca's side, he took her arm and gently steered her back towards her bed. "Why don't you just lie back down Francesca and get some more rest?"
"What? What are you doing?" Francesca tried to resist Benton's guidance, but in her wobbly condition it was all she could do just to cling to his arm and be guided. "I thought you were going to help me. I told you I have something I need to do." She sniffed sadly, and when Benton looked at her she fluttered her eyelashes a few times.
But Benton had already learned about that trick the hard way. He wasn't about to let her fluster him this time. Again the image of her in that skimpy costume flashed unbidden into his mind, and again he tossed it out.
He sat her on her bed and then asked, "Maybe I can help you. What do you need to do that's so important? Who do you need to see?"
Francesca slumped back on the mattress. "Sinclair, of course! Who else? I got a big can o' whoop-ass an' it's got her name on it!"
"Ah." Knowing Francesca the way he did, that was what he'd expected all this commotion had been about. He patted her hand reassuringly and tried a small smile. "Don't worry about Lieutenant Sinclair, Francesca. She's safely in the brig, and Sitto is keeping his usual watchful eye on her."
Francesca gave a small snort. "But..."
"Furthermore," continued Benton, unimpeded, "you are in no condition to be moving about, let alone opening large cans with people's names on them."
"But..."
"So you just stay here, behave yourself, and leave everything to me."
At that last statement, Francesca became less agitated. "Well...."
"Believe me, Francesca, Lieutenant Sinclair has a list of charges against her so long it will take me half an hour just to read it to her. By the time Starfleet is through with her, she'll wish that her only punishment was your large can."
As Francesca tried to puzzle out Benton's last comment, Benton pulled the bed covers over her. He smiled again and said, "Get well." With that, he turned to leave.
From where she had been standing a short distance away, Dana smiled at Benton and gave him a thumbs-up signal in thanks.
Francesca watched Benton's retreating back until the sickbay doors hissed shut behind him. She sighed dreamily, suddenly all smiles. "Golly. He does care."