"That's it. I fold. Captain, you win, once again," sighed Will Riker as he threw down his last hand of cards. Riker had played an admirable game up until the end. The rest of the table stayed glued to their seats as the Captain and his First Officer stood the last moments of the game.

"Took you long enough to concede to my poker abilities, Will!" Picard smiled as he took in his winnings.

"Well," Geordi began, "that was quite a game, Captain, but I have to be getting to bed". And, with that, Worf also rose from his seat and bid his crew members goodnight.

Beverly stretched back in her chair, yawned, and turned to Deana, "are we still on for tomorrow?"

"You bet," Deana smiled, "I am not letting you beat me at holosquash another week in a row!" Deana turned to the captain as she rose from her chair, "Goodnight, Captain" she smiled, "good night, Will. Try not to feel too bad that you lost everything AND the kitchen sink this evening," she jabbed flirtatiously.

Deana left Will's quarters closely behind Worf and Geordi. Beverly rose from her seat, and began to help Will and the Captain clean up the poker chips and cards. "No, no," Will put his hand up and smiled, "you two get going, I'll clean this up. Give me some time to get over my loss before I myself get to bed."

"Are you sure, Will?" Beverly straightened.

"Of course, of course; you two get going". And with that, the captain and his chief medical officer strode out of Will's cabin in a comfortable silence.

"Well, Captain," Beverly brushed her fringe out of her face and looked up, "it was wonderful that you came this evening. We all loved having you with us."

With that, Jean Luc put his hand lightly on the small of Beverly's back and paused his gait. Beverly similarly stopped. He turned to her, "Beverly, we need to talk. Care to join me for a night cap?"

With that, a sinking feeling settled in her stomach. The Kiss. Of course. In this instant, and all throughout that evening, even while immersed in a game of poker, he had been thinking about that kiss they had shared earlier in the day. Beverly had an idea of what was to come. She could see it in her head: he would pour them a class of Andorian Whiskey – a vintage blend – and ask her why she had kissed him. No, he would not be so direct. He would circle about it using circuitous terms and lofty diction. He would explain his confusion using high language. Why had she kissed him today when just 3 months ago she had so candidly turned down his suggestion that they pursue a romantic relationship? She would sit on the couch, stare into his hazel eyes, drink in the sound of his baritone voice, and want to tell him how much she loved him, how much she wished she had never left his cabin that night, how deeply she cared for him… but all that would come out of her mouth was an excuse to leave, brushing him off once again and avoiding an uncomfortable conversation.

"Of course, Jean Luc," she conceded, "a night cap would be lovely".

They rounded the corner to his cabin, he entered the code, and they stepped in. However, instead of allowing her to resume her usual spot on the couch, under the view port, or even allowing her to begin to foment ideas about how she would explain away why she had kissed him, he did something completely unexpected: as soon as the door had hissed shut behind him, he put his hands ever so gently around her waist and he kissed her. His kiss began ever so lightly, almost questing in nature as if waiting for her response. His hands wandered from her waist to her fiery red curls. She buckled at his touch. She always had. He pulled away gently, the taste of him still lingering on her lips. She opened her eyes slowly, still unsure of what had happened, and found him gazing lovingly at her.

"Beverly" he whispered her name in a deep velvet tone, "I don't want to overanalyze what happened today or what even just happened, but the explorer in me has to know what it all meant. Just three months ago, you flatly turned down my advances, telling me that we should be afraid of what this relationship might become. But, you failed to realize what it already is." He took a deep breath and leaned his forehead against hers, "I can't even begin to be afraid of loving you. I have been afraid, guilty, for half my life and I can't do it anymore. I love you dearly. Every time you walk into a room, my heart skips a beat. Even just the slightest touch from you sends shivers down my spine. Looking at you is like beholding a something sacred."

A singular tear streamed down Beverly's cheek. Never had anyone ever spoken such words to her. Jean Luc reached up a gentle finger and cleanly wiped the tear away, savoring the warm salty liquid on his finger.

"Jean Luc, I've been such a fool," she began, "there were so many things I wanted to say that night after Kesprytt. I wanted so much to stay with you. I didn't want to solemnly kiss your cheek and say goodnight, but to hold you, to have you next to me. But, after our link and after all the thoughts and feelings we shared, I knew we both felt enough guilt. You because you had loved me even when I was married to Jack, and me because I loved you before Jack…" Jean Luc stiffened. He knew she lied to him that night. He felt her thoughts on Kesprytt that night by the fire, and he caught an inkling of her feelings, but he had never known her feelings for him ran this deeply. "…what?' Another tear made its way down her cheek, carrying a hint of her mascara, "I loved you when I met you Jean Luc; A young handsome cadet full of ambition, pride, and self-assurance. But, as we spent more time together, I knew there was no room in your life for me. So, there was Jack. I married Jack. I felt so guilty for years. Did I marry Jack, because he was as close to you as I could find? Did I not fight hard enough for you? I loved Jack, don't get me wrong, he gave me a good marriage and a wonderful son. But, Jean Luc I still loved you. Then when I came on to the Enterprise, I thought those feelings would have disappeared. I hid them in a muddle of work and professionalism, but when the time came for me to commit to you, I got scared again. I'm scared that I won't be enough for you. I am scared that your ambition will always want more and I will always take second seat." In a moment, the realization hit Jean Luc. The Divorce. Q had shown him a future where he and Beverly had been married and then had subsequently divorced. Though in his brief time in the future, Jean Luc had never found out why exactly he and Beverly had divorced, he now figured it out: his greedy ambition; his drive to be the best; his drive to want the most and to do the most had destroyed his marriage. He took in the sight of the woman standing before him: she hung her shoulders low, her red tresses fell in perfect curls about her face, and tears framed her perfect face. In that instant he promised himself to leave his ambition behind. If that meant leaving Starfleet, so be it. For even his future self was full of regrets over losing the women to whom his soul was bound. With that moment of epiphany, Jean Luc brought his hands to the face of the woman he had loved for so long and brought her gaze to meet his own, "I keep losing you, Beverly Howard, be it because of my own stupidity and pig headedness or because of your fears and I simply can't do it any longer. Today, Q gave me a gift of sorts. He showed me the future. He showed me a time where you and I were married and then divorced. When I saw you again, I was filled with so many regrets. Even as an old and foolish man, I still loved you. I can't escape you and I can't lose you. I can't keep doing this forever; it has to end now." Beverly's heart sank. Was he saying goodbye? "Beverly, please end this with me. Let's throw away this toxic friendship that we've hid behind for 25 years," his hands wandered from her cheeks, down her slender arms, to rest on her waist. She melted. If his hands felt this good against her body with clothes on, she wondered what he would feel like without them. "Stay with me. Don't leave. Don't call me your friend. I can't bear it. I don't care what people say or don't say. I don' care if I leave this ship. I don't care if I leave Starfleet. I do care if I lose you. I couldn't take it," he ran out of breath. In that moment, Beverly was overcome with more love for Jean Luc Picard than she could fathom, so she did the only thing she could think of and she kissed him with a hunger. He kissed her back with unbridled passion, amazed at how perfectly her lips fit against his, like the 2 final pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. All the tension and feelings between them that had been pent up since the 2 had known one another was not wasted. Soon their respective uniforms found their way to the floor. Their bodies fit together in a perfect synchrony. Intuitively, he knew how to touch her. She held tight to his hard and disciplined body savoring his naked flesh finally against her own. Nothing had ever felt so perfect. That night her body draped over his limberly like a third limb that had belonged there all the while.

The next morning, Captain Picard and Dr. Beverly Crusher were both suspiciously absent at the morning staff meeting. Sitting suspiciously around the table, Commander Riker tapped his communicator, "Riker to Picard". No answer. "Riker to Picard," he repeated. Riker looked at Deana, "Computer, locate Captain Picard", "Captain Picard is in his quarters," the computer responded in its usually matter-of-fact tone. Deana looked up and smiled with the sudden realization of what might have happened, "Computer locate Dr. Crusher". "Dr. Crusher is in Captain Picard's quarters," Deana's smile widened, "why don't we call it a morning, I believe the Captain and Dr. Crusher have earned a personal day".