The Sweet of Bitter Bark
Summary: An A/U follow-up to the episode "Conspiracy". In which our heroes encounter death, alien invasion, old friends, new enemies, and the ultimate gamble: love.
Prologue
The starscape outside Beverly's window seemed particularly dark that night as she dressed for bed. Perhaps she was simply projecting, but there was just a little less twinkle in the dim lights streaking past the Enterprise than normal. It was a bit eerie, Beverly thought, pulling a thin camisole over her head. She shook out her hair and ran her fingers over her scalp, the slight pressure making her head ache in a wonderfully satisfying way.
She sighed and looked in her bathroom mirror. Sometimes it surprised her how old she'd managed to get without realizing it. Most days she still felt twenty and the little wrinkles creeping out from the corners of her eyes were a shock when she looked at her reflection. She was almost forty, she mused, and she simply couldn't wrap her brain around the fact.
Today, though, she felt every bit of it. Her body ached as it hadn't since basic training at the Academy. She felt stiff and even though it was hardly late, all she wanted was to crawl into her bed, pull the covers up to her chin and sleep.
She hardly had the strength to brush her fingers against the light panel as she left the bathroom and crossed to her bed. Sparing a fleeting wish for the heavy comforter and soft flannel sheets she'd had growing up, she pulled back the thin blanket, fluffed her pillow a bit and was just preparing to slide between the cool, crisp sheets when her doorbell rang.
Groaning and hanging her head, she got to her feet. "I'm coming, I'm coming," she muttered, slipping into her closet for her robe and a tie for her hair.
Now appropriately attired, she rushed to the door and pressed her hand to the access panel. The doors opened on an empty corridor. Frowning confusedly, Beverly poked her head into the hall.
"Jean-Luc?" The familiar shape of the captain's back stopped a few meters away from her door and he turned to face her. He too was out of uniform, though not quite as casual as she, Beverly noticed with a touch of embarrassment.
"Ah, Beverly," he replied, grimacing sheepishly at her. "I thought perhaps you'd already gone to bed." Something in his tone made her think that he'd rather hoped that had been the case.
"I nearly had. You just caught me." An awkwardly silent beat passed between them as they stood avoiding eye contact. "Did you need something?"
"No. Yes. I..." he hesitated, looking around as though about to share something private. Finally, he took a step closer and proffered a bottle at her. "I was going to ask if you'd have a drink with me."
Beverly felt her eyebrows lift in surprise. "A drink?"
Jean-Luc nodded, still not looking her in the eye. "It's whiskey, I'm afraid. Certainly not my preference, but Walker-" his voice wavered ever so slightly and he paused. "Walker gave it to me and it seemed the only appropriate gesture."
Beverly's chest suddenly felt tight, a quiet sob threatening to emerge from out of nowhere and she shook her head in acknowledgement. She reached out and took the bottle from him and he followed her back inside. Seeing that it was a bottle of Jameson nearly shattered her control. Walker had sworn by the stuff, practically refused to drink anything else.
Jean-Luc hovered near the couch, hands clasped behind his back stiffly as Beverly replicated a pair of glasses.
"I hope I didn't wake you?" he asked again.
"I was just getting into bed," she conceded. Not wanting to make him even more uncomfortable than he already looked, she continued. "This is a good idea, though. Walker would've laughed at me, going to sleep this early. I'm sure he'd have wanted to be commemorated this way."
She sat on the couch and opened the bottle, taking a whiff before pouring them each a small glass. The alcohol stung her nose and made her cough. Jean-Luc took his glass and held it oddly between both his hands. He seemed all thumbs and awkwardness tonight and it was unsettling.
"I don't think this was quite what he had in mind for the bottle when he gave it to me..." Jean-Luc's voice was soft without the commanding air it usually held.
"When was that?"
It took Jean-Luc a moment to realize she had spoken. "Oh. Ah, when I first took command of the Enterprise."
Silence again fell between them. It was strange. They'd never had this much trouble talking before, not in ages. Jean-Luc seemed lost and unsure of himself and Beverly found that she didn't like it at all.
She let a few more moments of silence pass and then, "Oh, Jean-Luc, for goodness' sake sit down! You're making me nervous standing there like that!" He did as she said. "Isn't that better? Have some whiskey and relax. Doctor's orders. I won't bite."
Beverly raised her glass and Jean-Luc followed suit.
"To Walker Keel," he said, "one of the greatest men I have ever known. That he never lack trouble to get himself into, a good friend to advise, or a nice stiff drink. May he rest in peace."
They clinked their glasses together, the sound of glass-on-glass ringing merrily through the somber atmosphere, and drank. Beverly coughed heavily as the liquid burned its way down and Jean-Luc shook his head and shivered.
"I'd forgotten how strong that stuff is," she laughed.
"After this, I doubt you'll forget again." Jean-Luc shifted on the couch to face her, looking much more at ease now. "Thank you for doing this with me, Beverly. I couldn't think of anyone else who would understand."
Beverly drew her legs under her body and took another sip. "I can't believe he's gone. When Jack died it was awful, but it wasn't a surprise. I spent so much time worrying that something was going to happen to him that when it did..." She shrugged. "But Walker? He was so constant. He was always there when you needed him. You know I hadn't seen him in almost three years?"
She watched as Jean-Luc downed the remainder of his drink and she did the same. Without asking, she poured them each another. She hadn't been drunk in ages and they were both off-duty in the morning. Wesley was supposed to be spending the night with a friend to study. She needed this, needed to let go.
"That is a surprise. Why not? You and Walker were always close." An odd look passed over Jean-Luc's face briefly and then was gone. Beverly tried to place it, but her brain was already too sluggish to keep up with his facial expressions.
"I didn't see much of anyone after Jack died. Wesley and I moved to Earth around then, the Horatio started those deep space missions Walker used to get so excited about. I suppose we just lost touch."
He nodded. "I understand that. My brother and I haven't managed to see one another since our father died. I'd imagine it's even worse when one's lost a spouse. It's easy to lose track of people after something like that. You make excuses because you don't want to be reminded. Somehow seeing the other person becomes more painful than living without them."
"Yes, that's it exactly. That's what happened to you and me, isn't it, Jean-Luc? That's why you offered to re-assign me." She spoke cautiously, hesitant to bring up the fact that they had once been quite good friends. It seemed a lifetime ago, yet even now that familiarity and rapport they'd always had permeated the conversation.
His eyes were miles away for a moment and Beverly debated whether to nudge him with her toe. Something told her it wasn't just the alcohol, though and she stayed where she was. Finally, he spoke, still not entirely present. "Yes, it was, in a way, wasn't it?"
She frowned and cocked her head at him. "In a way?"
"Yes…," he muttered. Then he shook his head slightly and smiled at her, now fully with her again. "I'm sorry, Beverly, I got sidetracked. I didn't want to remind you of Jack when you were trying to move past it. You needed space."
"I needed someone to pull me out of it, in retrospect. I got lost after Jack for a long time. I think I'm only just finding my way back. You're right, I thought I needed space but…. We handled it all wrong. We should have stayed together not drifted apart."
The strange look had returned, a shadow lurking behind Jean-Luc's eyes. "We?"
"You and I. And Walker, I suppose. Jack wasn't holding us together. We shouldn't have let him drive us apart."
"No, we shouldn't. Let's not let Walker do the same, shall we?" He smiled and raised his glass, making it clear that the topic was closed for discussion. Beverly couldn't help but be amused at how very commanding he was, even like this. They toasted again and drank.
Jean-Luc was a drink ahead of her now. He was visibly relaxing, slumped gracelessly against the couch back, head lolled over to the side to look at her as she spoke. It was rather endearing, she thought to herself. She giggled a bit and her head spun. She supposed this was what happened when one got too accustomed to synthehol. The stiff ache that had been plaguing her had gone entirely and, while she still missed Walker terribly, she was coming to appreciate the fact that Jean-Luc was still there. She wasn't alone. They were alone together, and that was comforting. He was watching her, his eyes softer than she could ever remember them having been.
"I saw your face today, you know," he said suddenly. She looked questioningly at him. "When we found the Horatio, I saw how you looked. I'm sorry you didn't get a chance to see him."
"How did I look?" she asked cautiously.
"Devastated. You looked like you'd just lost everything." He met her eyes and sighed heavily. He was slurring a little as he spoke, not too noticeably, but it was there.
"I guess that's right. You must understand though. It's just the two of us left now." She was quiet for a moment. "We are friends, aren't we, Jean-Luc?"
"Of course we are. Why do you ask?"
She frowned. Why had she asked? "I think it's because we were friends. We've never really talked about any of it, have we? We have history and we can barely mention it. It's a five-hundred kilogram gorilla sitting in the room and we've ignored it." Beverly closed her eyes and rubber her forehead, willing her mind to clear. "Walker just died, Jean-Luc. Died. Jack already is dead. We're warping back to Earth to investigate a conspiracy involving the highest tiers of Starfleet Command and then I'm being transferred to Medical headquarters. It's frightening. I want to know I have a friend to depend on."
He smiled widely at her and reached for her hand. "Always, Beverly."
She returned his smile. She'd had her doubts in the past year, but they now seemed foolish. Of course Jean-Luc was there for her. She was there for him, wasn't she? Of course. Everything would be fine.
...
Several hours later, the bottle of whiskey lay empty on the floor. Jean-Luc was stretched out on the couch drifting to sleep even as Beverly rose from where she had ended up sitting on the floor. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had so much fun just talking with another person. For as old as she'd felt earlier, she felt like a teenager now.
Walker would have wanted it this way, she thought. It would have pleased him to see her and Jean-Luc back on such good terms. She staggered towards her bedroom, a silly grin on her face.
"Jean-Luc?" She stuck her head back around the doorframe into the living room.
"Hmm?" he grunted sleepily.
"Have breakfast with me tomorrow?"
"Considering the circumstances, Beverly, I think we ought to make it brunch." His voice was muffled by the couch cushion but she could hear his smile in it.