"I hate this game!" Worf declares, throwing his cards down on the table.
Data raises an eyebrow. "If you do not like the game, why do you play?" Worf turns with a growl and Data goes back to studying his cards. With an audible, simulated sigh, he lays his cards down as well.
"Too rich for my blood."
Deanna and Riker are already out, leaving just Beverly and Jean-Luc still in the hand.
Beverly studies her hand carefully. She rearranges her cards several times before deciding. She pushes her considerable stack of chips to the center of the table.
"All in."
Picard looks up, startled. He has a good hand. A great hand. What he does not have are chips. He squints, trying to read Beverly. Deanna suppresses a smile. She purposely avoids using her special skills to know what the others are feeling while playing, but she's not above a 'peek' when her game is finished. Picard notices and interprets Deanna's smile as meaning that Beverly is bluffing. Beverly's own face remains passive.
"I seem to be at a disadvantage here, Doctor," he says with a smile. "Is there anything we can do to, perhaps, even the playing field?
She considers the offer carefully. "I suppose, if you were to cook me dinner, we could call it even."
He smiles. "Deal! Call!" He triumphantly lies down his cards, three aces and two kings, a strong hand for 5 Card Draw. Beverly looks disappointed. "I'm afraid I only have two pair," she says. He reaches for the pile of chips, not noticing the smile that comes to her face. She continues, "two black queens and two red queens."
"Merde!" he swears softly as she pulls the chips toward her with a smile. She scoops them off the table and into the bag on her lap. "As always, it's been fun. So glad you could join us, Jean-Luc. I will see you tomorrow night? Oh and you bring the wine."
He watches her as she exits the room then turns back to the table. "Why do I feel as if I've been set up here?"
Deanna smiles. "I told you, you were always welcome."
"As bait!" Will adds with a hearty laugh.
Deanna giggles as Picard stands to leave with feigned insult. "Next time then. Revenge will be mine. A Picard does not lose easily. And we never forget!"
Beverly arrives promptly at 7:00. She rings the bell on Picard's door. It slides open to reveal him in casual clothing, a stained apron tied around his waist. He hands her a glass of his family vineyard's wine and shows her to the couch. "The Lapin a la Cocotte will be ready in just a few minutes."
"Jean-Luc, I had no idea you could cook."
"I am a man of many skills."
"Indeed."
"This is an old Picard family recipe," he tells her. "My Grand-mere taught it to me when I was very young. She said it was guaranteed to make the ladies fall deeply in love."
"Mmm," she says as she takes a sip of wine, "does it work?"
"You'll have to let me know", he says as he lays the rabbit stew on the table along with a basket of bread and cold beet salad.
Beverly settles herself back on to the sofa and stretches. Jean-Luc hands her another glass of wine and sits next to her.
"So?"
She smiles. "I think your grandmother was onto something. That was delicious."
"I'm glad that you enjoyed it."
"I did. I'm just glad that it wasn't real rabbit."
"Dirty varmints!"
"No! Rabbits are adorable."
"They destroy the garden."
"They're soft and cuddly and they have the cutest little noses."
He snorts with derision and she laughs. "I had a pet rabbit of sorts when I was a child. On Arvada III."
With mention of the ill-fated settlement, the climate of the room changes.
"You don't speak of that much?" he asks.
"It's not something I like to think about."
"How old were you?"
She sighs. "I was seven when we arrived at the colony. It wasn't until I was ten that we were finally rescued."
"Merde," he swears again. "It must have been horrifying for a young girl."
"Like I said, I don't think about it often. It was just something that happened. There were things that needed to be done. We had to survive. There wasn't much time to wallow. My Nana, she was a healer. The colonists looked to her when the medicines ran out."
He takes her hand for comfort. "Is that where you decided to become a doctor?"
She laughs. "Gods no! I hated it. Digging in the mud for roots, scrounging for plants, memorizing recipes for potions. I detested every second of it."
"Potions?" he queries.
"Hmm. Yes. My Nana, she called herself a witch, supposedly all of the Howard women are witches, going back to the Pagans and Druids of Earth's Europe."
"A witch huh? I can see it."
She laughs again. "Be very careful Jean-Luc. I can put a spell on you!"
"A love spell I expect." He says it jokingly but there is a nugget of truth to it. She considers that.
"Perhaps I already did?"
"Perhaps."
They sit quietly for a few minutes, each contemplating the warm feelings they share. Finally, he reaches for her now empty wine glass and sets it on the table in front of them.
"Beverly, I…"
"Shhh…," she says. "It's just the wine talking."
"Still…" he leans close and gently brushes his lips against hers. She doesn't pull away and he kisses her again, sliding his hand across her soft cheek and into her hair.
"Jean-Luc, we shouldn't," she whispers but she kisses him back, wrapping her arms around his strong shoulders. He stands and pulls her to her feet.
"Come." He walks her slowly to his bedroom where he carefully undresses her. She doesn't help but she doesn't protest either as he lies her on top of his bed. He quickly disrobes himself and lies on his side next to her.
"This doesn't have to mean anything, Jean-Luc."
"Of course not."
"Just collecting my winnings?"
"Only that."
She rolls to her side and lays her leg over his, pulling her body close. He runs his fingers over her supple skin and she sighs as her own fingers walk their way down the muscles in his back. They kiss again, still slowly and gently. Both are looking for comfort in each other, nothing more.
"I just want to feel something, Jean-Luc, something, anything. It's been so long since I've felt anything."
He touches his lips to hers one more time as he slips inside of her. She sighs again and wraps her arms tighter. Neither moves for what seems like an eternity. He lifts his head to study her face. Her eyes are closed, her cheeks red with arousal but her breathing is slow and even. He runs his fingers over her cheek and she opens her eyes and smiles. Slowly, she begins to move against him. He lies as still as he can, letting her set the tempo and the intensity. Her body undulates against him without urgency, her breath tickles the hair on his chest. She lifts her leg in invitation and he touches her with his fingers. He uses the lightest touch, still letting her control the motion. The only change is when her breath catches and she tightens around him with a deep sigh. He finally lets himself go and they both still, their bodies entangled.
He has no awareness of the passing of time as he goes soft, still inside of her, her face buried deep into his neck. He groans softly as she pulls away, taking with her the warmth and comfort he's been seeking for so long. He watches without word as she gathers her discarded clothing and dresses. Before she leaves, she turns back to him and gently kisses his cheek before walking away.
"Thank you Jean-Luc."