Author's Note: This is set between my previous stories "The Path Not Taken" and "Anniversary Notes" for those who are keeping score.

As soon as Captain Picard strode onto the bridge to begin his morning shift Counselor Deanna Troi could see that something about him was different. Watching him as he made his way to the command chair she could detect a lightness in his face, a focused relaxation in his step, that bespoke of something in his emotional makeup having shifted in a profound way, and shifted overnight. He certainly hadn't been in this mood the day before.

Consumed with curiosity, she shifted in her seat and subtly extended her empathic sense toward the captain. The immediate sensation she perceived was one of profound contentment, of buoyancy…as though an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders. And beneath that ran a deep current of pleasure – no, joy – like a symphony thrumming through his heart. If his present emotions were colors on a palette, she thought, they would be hues of rich, golden yellow, like a warm heady mixture of sunlight and honey.

Hazel eyes met hers. She started as she realized he'd caught her staring at him unabashedly, and offered an apologetic smile. But he only nodded at her with imperturbable equanimity and turned back to his log reports.

Deanna suddenly found herself with a burning desire to find out just what had produced this transformation within her commanding officer. On any other day she would hesitate to ask, because although as the ship's counselor it was her responsibility to monitor the emotional states of the crew, such interest wasn't always well received by this particular man. But given his present mood she was confident that he would have an inexhaustible supply of good humor and that his already legendary patience would be practically infinite. Thus when he finally stood and went to his ready room she had no hesitation in following.

The door hissed closed behind her as she entered the room on his heels. "Sir, may I speak with you for a moment?"

"Certainly." Picard nodded and waved her over to the couch by the wall.

This atypical informality was yet another sign of the subtle shift in his demeanor, Deanna thought as they settled next to one another.

Now that she was nearer she could more easily discern the waves of contentment that radiated from the man sitting beside her. If she could only bottle that sensation and share it, she thought, she could bring peace to the galaxy.

"Is everything alright?" She knew the answer even before the words left her mouth, because it was obvious from his entire being that things had never been better. But it gave her a conversational opening to start trying to narrow down more precisely what had wrought this unexpected change.

As she expected, he nodded. "Yes, Counselor, everything is fine."

"I meant personally, sir," she clarified, knowing she was treading on thin ice. The captain had never been one to openly share his private life, even with those he considered his friends, even on a day like today. Despite her hopefulness Deanna braced herself for a polite but cool rebuff of her interest.

But instead, to her considerable surprise, he smiled. A full, warm smile that she had rarely seen from him, and then only when in the presence of one particular member of his staff. A suspicion was already beginning to form in her mind when he spoke again.

"Yes. Beverly and I –" Jean-Luc paused, unable for a moment to find the words to describe the wondrous, momentous tryst that had taken place between the two of them the night before, the culmination of a relationship half a lifetime in the making. It was at once both an ending and a beginning, the close of one chapter in his life and the initiation of another, one that promised to be far more exciting and fulfilling than anything he'd ever imagined. It was everything he could have dreamed of and yet still the promise of so much more.

He heard the counselor gasp and realized that no further words were required. Deanna's hands flew up to her cheeks as her dark eyes shone with comprehension. Full mouth widening into a delighted grin, her immediate, unrestrained happiness was unmistakable even to a non-empath.

The sight of her obvious joy at his revelation warmed him to the core.

After taking a moment to recover herself Deanna leaned forward and impulsively pressed his hands in both of hers. "I'm so happy for you, sir," she said, entirely unnecessarily. "For both of you."

"Thank you, counselor," he replied, returning her smile without self-consciousness. He held her gaze for a moment before his eyes lost focus and drifted down to where his hands had returned to sit loosely clasped in his lap.

Almost at once his level of satisfaction and happiness rose, and the counselor's smile widened as she recognized that he was revisiting his memories from the previous night. She wondered at the emotions she could sense washing over him.

This was not the giddy elation that had characterized his early days with Lt. Commander Daren, but rather a full and abiding serenity, a sense of peace with the present moment and a warm hopefulness for the future intermingled with the quiet wonder of a man who can't quite believe his good fortune. It was a deeper, subtler internal transformation, but one that was no less profound.

Captain Picard was such a reserved, private figure, one who had always chosen to bear the heavy burden of commanding the flagship of the Federation in a solitary manner. Deanna had known for years that his friendship with Beverly, their attachment, acted as a crucial buffer between the captain and dangerous isolation. To know that their bond had been strengthened, and to feel him imbued with such quiet but heartfelt exultation as a result, was nothing short of wonderful.

He sat still, lost in thought, light years away from her in his mind.

Deanna exhaled slowly. She would leave him to his reminiscence. She had her answer, and it couldn't have made her more pleased for them both. Besides, she couldn't wait to talk to Beverly now and get all the salacious details. It might take a little digging, but she knew that ultimately her friend would be more forthcoming than the man sitting next to her. She smiled once more, simply, happily, and braced her hand on the cushion beside her to rise.

"I've loved her for so long, you see," he said unexpectedly.

Surprised, Deanna checked her move to depart and settled back down on the couch. His voice had been quiet, confessional – a signal to the counselor's trained ear that something more was to follow.

"Ever since we first met – nearly twenty five years ago," he added, his gaze still fixed on his hands folded together in his lap.

Then his piercing eyes lifted to meet hers, and Deanna drew in a sharp breath. Because she remembered Beverly once telling her that the first time she'd met the captain she'd still been at the Academy – and had been engaged to Jack Crusher. Suddenly all of her earlier impressions from the bridge slotted neatly into place in her mind as the recognition dawned that, from the very beginning, Captain Picard had been in love with his best friend's wife.

The realization stunned her. He'd been in love with Beverly all this time, and no one had known. Not even her mother – who had practically thrown herself at the captain at every available opportunity – had made that breathtaking connection.

Deanna hurriedly glanced away, trying both to conceal how surprising the revelation was and to process the emotional implications. She could scarcely begin to imagine how difficult it must have been for someone with the integrity, the innate nobility, of Jean-Luc Picard to try to come to terms with loving another man's wife. His best friend's wife, no less, someone whom he would frequently see in social situations, and someone who's happiness in the arms of a close comrade must have been like a dagger to the heart.

Knowing the captain, Deanna thought, he would no doubt have believed his feelings for Beverly inappropriate at the very least. He must have regarded himself as weak for being unable to banish, or at least suppress, the emotions roiling within him. Deanna herself had some experience of that terrible inner turmoil, and knew the toll it took. Viewed from that perspective, his years away from Earth, from Beverly, following the destruction of the Stargazer must have felt in some ways like a blissful reprieve.

And then for Beverly to join the Enterprise crew, for the captain to have to see her and interact with her on a daily basis, and to once more have to guard his feelings the way a Klingon warrior would guard his honor…

At last Deanna could fully understand the burden that had been lifted from him, and the sense of liberation like the weightlessness of space. The knowledge that he'd had to hide his ardor for so many years – from his friends and colleagues, and most particularly from Beverly herself – went a long way towards explaining why he had always been so walled off, his emotions so carefully concealed from everyone who knew him…

And to now have everything that he had wanted for so long – to have a love that he'd thought for years to be unrequited and unseemly ultimately come to be passionately reciprocated – it must be one of the most incredible experiences the universe had to offer.

Deanna wondered briefly how much Beverly understood of all this, before deciding that she couldn't pursue the question with her in good conscience. For she knew that her friend was not always the most keenly aware of her own emotional state nor that of others around her.

Consequently she doubted that Beverly had any real idea – and would be appalled if she came to learn – how much hiding his passion for so long had cost the captain. Because the grueling effort he'd been forced to make to shield his feelings throughout the course of so many years had clearly had a wearing effect on him.

Deanna was certain that he had always been a relatively reserved, reticent person. Yet she had also heard rumors about his…more carefree…ways during his time at Starfleet Academy, before Beverly came into his life, and she couldn't help wondering how much of the solitude he cultivated as the ship's commanding officer was due to fear of inadvertently revealing his secret rather than from an intrinsic desire to avoid growing close to people.

Perhaps consummating his relationship with Beverly would now allow his other personal relationships to develop more freely. She hoped so, for his sake as much as everyone else's, and promised herself she would redouble her efforts to make him feel welcome at any and all activities of the senior staff.

"Is there anything else, Counselor?" the captain's words broke into her reverie.

"Uh, no sir, sorry. That's all."

"In that case, I do have work to do." The words were stern, but his voice was gentle and kind.

"Of course, sir." Deanna stood and started towards the door, then hesitated, turning back. "Can I tell Will?" She was so happy right now she wasn't sure she could keep this from her Imzadi even if she tried.

He nodded, a glint of humor in his eyes. "Very well."

"Thank you, Captain. And sir," she added, heartfelt, "congratulations."

"It's appreciated, Deanna."

Deanna Troi turned and returned to the bridge without a care in her heart. For she was fully confident that whatever might happen today, even if a Romulan invasion were about to take place, in his current mood the captain would be able to handle it without even breaking a sweat.

FIN