Transporter Room. Dr. Bev carefully carries her lit vibrator to the pad with her suitcases. Again, she's dressed like a Highland lass with her auburn hair done up in a low, loose, bun at the nape of her neck. Picard walks in, shakes an e-pad at her, and asks her what the hell it is. "I thought it was self-explanatory -- I'm leaving Starfleet. Energize," Dr. Bev says, that last order for the transporter chief. Picard orders the transchief to belay that order. I want a job where I tell people to belay stuff. The disembodied voice of the transchief says, "Aye, sir!" What scandals and dramas transchiefs must see in their line of work. Picard tells Dr. Bev, pleadingly, that she can't just resign. "I can and I have. I've decided to stay on Not Scotland and become a healer like my grandmother. It's a proud Howard tradition and I've decided to uphold it energize," Dr. Bev recites. Nothing happens. Dr. Bev stares at Picard and says, "I've resigned my commission, so unless you plan on kidnapping me..." Picard reluctantly nods at the transchief, who finally energizes. Picard broods.
In his Ready Room and in front of Livingston, Picard and Troi have a confab. Troi tells Picard all about Bonin and adds that she "senses" Dr. Bev wasn't telling her everything. Picard wonders if Bonin is exerting some sort of influence over Dr. Bev and that she's staying because of him. Troi thinks it's possible. Picard thinks Dr. Bev's decision is rash, ill-considered, and not at all like her. Troi agrees, but argues that the decision was Dr. Bev's to make. Data enters with technobabble about the energy residual found in Groundskeeper Willie's body. They've found a matching signature right where Nana is buried. Geordi and Data investigate.
In a robe and nightie (this one is satin, not granny), Dr. Bev plays with the candle's flame. Yes, yes she does. Bonin sits at her feet and kisses her hands. "I'm so glad you're here," Dr. Bev simps, "I can't imagine what life was like before I met you." Bonin promises it will only get better. Dr. Bev leans back slightly, tips her head up, and spreads her arms. Bonin dissolves into green mist and the mist mounts her. You know, I'll bet many of you out there would like to think I'm kidding, spinning a yarn, exaggerating in that overly dramatic way we recappers like to do for a laugh or a gasp. My friends, the truth of it is, I'm so not.