The door hissed shut behind her. The faint sound of the sliding door behind her sounded so final. With five words-five little words that separately were harmless but when put together sounded a sentence so definitive and final- she had shut down and put an end to what she had longed for since she could remember. The ground felt shaky beneath her. She steadied herself, in a moment reconsidering her actions. She couldn't go back. No. She had her chance and she had squandered it. Jean Luc was a gentleman and would not push her. He wouldn't beg and make her uncomfortable. If he was anything, it was respectful of boundaries.
Jean Luc blew out the candles and walked into the centre of the room. What had just happened? He rubbed the back of his head, baffled. Was it something he had said? Was it the way that he said it? Was he too forward? What would come of their friendship now? Had he permanently ruined it? He knew that they could not go back. On Kesprytt 3 their feelings had been laid bare to one another. All the pretences that they had hid behind for years had been shattered. She knew, and he knew. The truth had been shoved in their face without sugar coating. All the pent up feelings and frustrations both of them had felt for the past 25 years had been exposed. Friendship was therefore, no longer an option. For a moment, he mourned his. Beverly had been his closest friend for years. She was his confidant. She was his rock. No. He could not let her slip away. She was too valuable to him. This evening, he knew she had lied to him. She had sat with him, eyes locked on his, and she had lied. She had gotten close and then fear had taken hold. He heard her on Kesprytt 3 right before the rescue; I love you, she thought. He heard her as clearly as if she had taken a megaphone and shouted in his face.
No. He took a deep breath, gathered his resolve, and swiftly left his quarters.
Beverly had made it halfway down the hall. She turned the corner and heard someone running behind her. Before she could register what was happening, a strong hand grabber her arm just above her elbow. She spun around, momentarily stunned. Jean Luc, slightly out of breath.
"Look at me, Beverly, and tell me you don't want this. Tell me, say the words, 'you don't want us'. Tell me you are willing to deny everything that is right between us because of fear. Are you really that much of a coward?"
"Jean Luc, I…" emotions swirled. Here was her second chance. What was she afraid of? Here he was, once again barring his soul to her. Here he was wearing his heart on his sleeve and being vulnerable because he loved her. Here he was, fighting for her. She looked down, tears welling in her vibrant blue eyes. She looked up, her gaze meeting his warm hazel eyes, "I…", a tear fell and traced a line down her cheek.
Jean Luc's posture softened. He hadn't realized that his whole body had been in a state of near rigor. He dropped his shoulders and mechanically brought his hand up to her, wiping the warm tear away from her perfect cheek. His soft hand then traced the line of her face. God, she was so lovely. Everything about her was flawless. Suddenly, without a thought in the world, he did the only thing that he could do: he kissed her perfect lips. And right there, in the corridor, she kissed him back. She had kissed him once before, but it hadn't been him. He hadn't been present. It didn't count. Now, here he was. Now, he was gloriously present. Without cognition, she brought her hands up to his face, cradling him. The kiss deepened until the need to breath overcame desire. They stood there, so close, breathing heavily as though each had just run up a flight of stairs. He brought his hand up and took her wrist. Eyes still locked, he took her hand in his and led her back to his cabin. Not wanting to protest and still stunned from the unbounded passion that she had just experienced, she followed.
There was that hiss again.
"Beverly, please don't leave. If you have fears, tell me. Tell me so that we can face them together, but please don't deny how you feel. Don't be so paralyzed by fear that you can't allow yourself to be loved".
Emotion took hold and the strong and detached façade that Beverly so often donned even around the people that she loved suddenly came tumbling to the ground. Now, not one tear, but a myriad fell, streaming for her eyes like a fountain.
Jean Luc took her into his arms and held her as she sobbed, unloading all of her feelings and frustrations that she had hidden for so long. He kissed the top of her head and stepped back. Her sobs had subsided, but she hung her head low. Gently, he lifted her chin with gentle fingers. Her eyes were blood shot and red from all the tears. Then, from the sadness of her features emerged a small smile, "you're right," she conceded. Beverly Crusher hated losing an argument and admitting she was wrong, but this was one time when she was glad to do so. She looked into the face of them man she had loved for so long and suddenly that small smile metamorphosed into a grin. He smiled back because he knew and then he kissed her all over again, this time holding nothing back.