Beverly sighed and sank further into the eiderdown comforter's siren-song embrace. Her feet caressed the luxurious linens, and she revelled in the thick weave, not missing her utilitarian sheets on the Enterprise in the slightest. She'd forgotten the decadence of remaining in bed simply because she could.
The aroma of coffee seeped through the bedding and she debated surfacing from the warm depths in order to indulge in another pleasure. The pungent tang left no doubt – this was no replicated brew wafting toward her; only freshly roasted and ground beans were capable of such a divine scent.
Still, it wasn't enough to pull her from her nest. Not today. To admit to being awake was to admit that the day had begun. Then time would march forward—the hours would slip by—and the day would be over. The dream would end.
She buried her face in her pillow as the mattress shifted under the weight of a second body. She squeezed her eyes shut, dreading the words she knew were coming.
"We could always stay, you know."
Beverly peered at him through suspicious lids. She'd expected some sort of captainly platitude, or maybe a resigned sigh, but not this.
She watched as Jean-Luc leaned over and perched on his elbow next to her prone form. He tugged back the covers obscuring most of her face and she shivered – not entirely from the change in air temperature. His presence set off an electromagnetic storm in her. No matter how often, and no matter the location, her body responded to his proximity.
He grinned, his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners. "We don't have to go back."
Beverly stretched, bringing her arms above her head before reaching a hand out to caress his cheek. She walked her fingers behind his ear in order to rub the short hairs on the back of his head.
He wasn't—couldn't be—serious, and the knowledge of what lay ahead brought a bittersweet smile to her lips. She pulled him into a tender kiss, letting her disappointment drift away under the warmth and realness that was uniquely Jean-Luc.
She broke the embrace and said, "You know we can't."
"No," he replied as he toyed with the tangle of her hair cascading across the pillows. "But," he added, his smile returning, "I am grateful for that. Returning to active duty will make the memory of the past few days all the more precious."
He sat back up and gazed around the room and Beverly drank in every movement. Jean-Luc reached for his coffee cup and took a sip before continuing; the mock gravitas in his tone making her smile. "I would hate to become inured to this, to no longer appreciate and savour every moment. If we stayed, this would become routine, and these hours deserve so much more than forgettable mediocrity."
Beverly laughed and shook her head. "I cannot imagine a more heinous crime than that."
"Indeed. Which is why, Madame Picard, we are going to enjoy a leisurely breakfast on the balcony before meeting the shuttle to Utopia Planetia."
"Aye, sir."
Jean-Luc pretended to scowl. "No, there is no Captain Picard here." His gesture took in the suite and the cityscape hidden beyond the thick drapes. "Here, we are Monsieur and Madame Picard, newlywed, and madly in love." He surprised her with a quick coffee-flavoured kiss. "There will be plenty of time for us to be Captain and Doctor Picard later. For now, let's just be... us."
Beverly sighed. Ever the diplomat, Jean-Luc had a knack for saying the right thing. She'd enjoyed simply being 'Madame Picard,' and, despite his charming words, she wasn't sure she was ready to set it aside for 'Doctor Picard, CMO of the USS Enterprise.'
She slid out of bed and joined her husband on the narrow balcony overlooking the Seine. She wrapped her arms around his waist and tucked her head between his shoulder blades before murmuring, "So, Monsieur Picard, what have you ordered for breakfast today?"
"I left very specific instructions with room service, as only the best is good enough for you, Madame," Jean-Luc said, his baritone rumbling through her cheek and filling her heart at the same time. "I have procured for us the finest, most exquisite delicacies guaranteed to send our taste buds soaring beyond Saturn's rings."
"Oh wonderful," Beverly replied, stepping out from behind him. She quirked her eyebrow when she saw the meal arranged on the table. She turned her questioning gaze on him and he shrugged. She said, "Coffee and croissants?"
Jean-Luc smiled.
One moment, one simple gesture, and all her tension evaporated. The titles and the roles may change but they were, at heart, just people. Coffee and croissants. Jean-Luc and Beverly.
She smiled in return. "It's perfect."