A/N: I was thinking about why Beverly might have said she was afraid when Picard spoke to her at the end of Attached. Like most of my fics, canon switch post All Good Things (because the movies broke canon anyway). Decided to experiment a bit with arospec Beverly (I didn't specify to whether aroflux, demiro or greyro, just aromantic spectrum), and quite frankly, I like how it is turning out. I bet there are loads of people who would disagree with what I've done here (in making Beverly arospec). I totally respect that. You'd probably enjoy one of my other Prusher fics.

If you want to find out more about aromanticism, there's this website called Google that might help you - search "aromantic resources", that should help you find something useful (or you could ask me some questions, I'll try to answer as best I can).

Beverly stood at the door to his quarters, hand poised above the bell. Was she certain? Was it possible to be certain? Would she ever be certain? Her mind was fluid and in the past had changed faster than the lightning strikes in plasma storms... except... in the last few weeks things had begun to clear. After Ronin, what she'd researched in coping, it was making sense. Hindsight was a precious thing, and now her past was starting to come into focus.

It wasn't that he had been wondering why, it was that she wanted to tell him why. Up until then, she hadn't known why herself, but now she did, and she wanted him to know too.

Ping!

"Enter," his rich voice barked from the inner room.

The door slid open and she stepped inside. "Beverly?" There was a questioning earnest in his voice. Their breakfasts had reduced to weekly events since Kesprytt, and they never spoke about dinner that night.

"Do you have a minute, Jean-Luc?" she asked softly. His face eased into a relaxed smile, inviting her to join him on the sofa. She took the chair opposite him instead.

"What's on your mind?" After his time shifting, he seemed more at peace than Beverly had seen him for a while... in fact, ever. In the entire time she'd known him, he had only once been remotely so calm and that was shortly before she'd walked out on him that night.

"I wanted to apologise, and explain," Beverly said.

"Apologise? You've done nothing to be sorry for," Jean-Luc automatically argued.

She raised a hand momentarily to silence him. "Please, just listen." He closed his mouth with a small sigh, crossing his arms over his chest as he sat back on the chair. They were both still in their uniforms from the day. She didn't know if he'd eaten dinner yet. She hadn't. She couldn't, her mind was too active. She'd wanted to tell him when she made her discovery, but decided to wait, and make sure she was as certain as possible first.

"I'm sorry for walking out after dinner, you know the one I mean," she began. "I do love you, Jean-Luc, that's what I've found so confusing this entire time. I always loved you, even back when we first met. I wasn't aware at the time because I was so smitten with Jack, but I know now.

"But I was confused. Sometimes I thought I had a crush on you, most of the time I was sure I didn't. When I was with you, I knew I didn't. Infatuation, to me at least, always felt much more like... dancing up in the clouds. But with you, I never felt that. Being around you has always made me feel my feet are firmly on the ground.

"It was only after the incident with Ronin that I properly started looking into it. And everything started to make sense. The only time I've ever been infatuated was with Jack, and I don't think I could feel that way about someone ever again. I tried with Odan, because I knew, if I could feel anything consistent like that towards Odan, I'd be able to feel it to you. But I didn't, and that scared me. I felt guilty, that I'd been lying to him and myself the entire time, that I'd let the entire thing fall out of hand.

"Is any of this making sense?" she suddenly asked out of the blue. Jean-Luc blinked, processing the question. His expression wasn't encouraging. "Essentially, I do love you. You are my best friend, Jean-Luc, and I want to be more than friends. But not romantic partners... A different sort of partner."

"A... different sort of partner? I'm afraid I don't understand." He gave her a sorrowful look.

Beverly closed her eyes, bit her lip and counted to ten. She slowly exhaled, opening her eyes to look at him again. "I'm sorry, I'm not explaining this very well."

"You said you had started looking into something after... Caldos..." Jean-Luc avoided Ronin's name purposefully. "What is it you were looking into?"

She kicked herself mentally. That was what she was meant to be talking about! Not babbling on about all her past relationships! "Romantic orientations. Specifically, the aromantic spectrum."

"Oh." Jean-Luc nodded as if this made everything clearer. It didn't, but it certainly helped.

"I actually found out about it first a few years ago, when it seemed Wesley wasn't interested in dating anyone." Beverly took a quick tangent. "But then he started dating girls his age so I forgot about it. After Kesprytt, I was confused because I was mistaking platonic attraction for romantic attraction." Platonic. That was a word he knew. Also, not exactly the word he wanted to hear Beverly using just then...

"So you... just want to be friends?" Jean-Luc asked with furrowed brow. Her face fell. With a sigh, Beverly leaned forward, covering her face with a hand.

"Dammit," she said under her breath. "No, that isn't it. I'm bad at explaining this, sorry."

"Don't worry, maybe I'm just having trouble understanding," Jean-Luc said in an effort to lighten her mood. She let out a short laugh, but it wasn't convincing. Her eyes were still closed and her hand covered most of her face. Something was wrong. "Beverly?" She shook her head, biting her bottom lip to keep it from quivering.

"Beverly, it's alright." He stood, stepping around the coffee table to kneel in front of her, taking her free hand in his. "It's alright." She took a deep breath, removing her hand. Her eyes were red as she tried to hold back her tears. "It's okay if you just want to be friends. I can manage. I have managed these last few decades."

"Dammit, Jean-Luc," she snapped. "Why must we be like this? You're only happy if I'm happy, I'm only happy if you're happy, but we both want different things."

"You do want to be more than friends?" Jean-Luc asked for clarification. She nodded, the back of her hand against her mouth. "Just not, romantic."

Beverly coughed, trying to clear her throat so she could speak. "There's this thing... type of relationship... called a queer platonic relationship, or quasiplatonic relationship... from what I can tell, it's like an intimate friendship, with the commitment of a romantic attachment, and they can do romantic things together, but the basis of the relationship is platonic."

"So, if we were to enter, what was it you called it? A queer platonic relationship? How would our relationship change?"

"I think quasiplatonic would be more accurate for us," Beverly started. "I... I don't really know."

"What level of romance would you be comfortable with?" He rephrased the question.

"Jean-Luc, I..." she said, starting to get confused herself. "I didn't want to let myself think that far ahead."

"Can I give you a hug?" he asked. The words felt clumpy and awkward on his tongue, but talking always seemed to help their relationship, whatever it was or would be.

"Yes, hugs are definitely allowed," she said as she wrapped her arms awkwardly around his neck. He set his hands on her back, rubbing gently. His neck was craned at a strange angle and it all just felt a little weird but also good that he could comfort her.

"Here," he said, taking her elbows and getting up, then helping her stand so they could embrace properly. In his arms she knew she was safe. "If what you want is like what we had before Kesprytt, except more often and more hugs... I'd like that."

"So would I," she whispered, turning her head against his so her nose was close to his ear. "I'd like that a lot."

"So we can start with that and see where we both want to go from there," Jean-Luc decided. Beverly nodded, her hair rubbing against his cheek. They'd been friends for this long through thick and thin, they could make this work. It had to.