I watched the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode "Attached" and found it so teasing and frustrating that I was moved to write my very first Star Trek fic. Hope you enjoy this AU epilogue to "Attached."

Beverly paused for a moment outside the closed door of Jean-Luc's quarters before returning to her own. As she slowly undressed she couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right. She lay awake for some time, going over her conversation with Jean-Luc and examining her own behavior. She thought she might have been unintentionally cruel to him. She was the one who had pushed him, while they were on the planet, to explain why he had never told her he was in love with her. And just now she had brought up the things his mind had said to hers, both his dreams and his waking thoughts. She had initiated these conversations and then quickly turned him down when he suggested that they consider exploring the feelings that neither could now deny.

Beverly wondered if she could take back what she had said. She wasn't sure if she would want to, even if she could, but she couldn't help wondering how Jean-Luc might react if she did. He would never be unkind, but otherwise, she had no idea. She wasn't sure how much or how little she had hurt him with her behavior tonight, so it was hard to guess. Was he angry? Would their friendship suffer?

Images of their time together on Kesprytt III and dinner in his quarters swirled around in her brain, rousing a wide range of emotions in her heart. Beverly tried not to think about it; she needed her sleep. She had to be up early for breakfast with Jean-Luc. She wouldn't miss it, even if she discovered he was angry at her. Eventually she did fall asleep, dreaming of things that troubled her, though she could not remember any of them in the morning. She only knew that she felt mildly dispirited. She hoped she could shake her melancholy soon; she had an early shift and she needed to be at her best.

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"Aren't you coming in, Beverly?" Jean-Luc asked with a smile. The doctor stood just outside his open door, at first uncertain how he would greet her and then struck motionless for a second by the fond smile he gave her as he poured her coffee. She forced herself to behave normally, returning his smile and taking her usual seat.

"Good morning, Jean-Luc," she greeted him. "I hope you slept well."

He didn't answer immediately. "At the risk of having my Chief Medical Officer order me back to bed, I'll tell you that I did not sleep well last night." His expression held a hint of mischief.

Beverly relaxed. He was teasing her, a sign that things could go back to normal between them. "Don't worry, Jean-Luc, I won't tell her," she replied, returning his smile. "I didn't sleep well, myself."

"I daresay we'll both be back to normal before long," Jean-Luc remarked. "It wasn't the first time I've slept on the hard ground of a hostile planet, but one doesn't always recover from that immediately."

"I believe you're right." She surveyed the table. Coffee and croissants, she noted with satisfaction. Coming to an understanding about their breakfast preferences was one aspect of their time on Kesprytt III that she was glad for, even if the rest of it had created confusion and uncertainty.

Jean-Luc sat down to his own breakfast. "So what's on your schedule today, Beverly? Anything interesting?"

She answered his question and they fell into casual conversation, just as they did every morning. Jean-Luc sat back in his chair, sipping slowly, while Beverly sat with one knee bent, her thigh up against her chest, foot resting on the seat of the chair. She rested her coffee cup on her knee in between sips. Much sooner than she wished, breakfast was over and it was time to get to work. She and Jean-Luc parted at his door, she headed to sickbay and he to the bridge.

Beverly's melancholy returned, though a busy day in sickbay kept her almost too occupied to notice. Almost. Though she was busy all day, none of her patients' conditions were in any way out of the ordinary. An officer's wife arrived in the morning in labor with her first child. Beverly did what she could to comfort the woman, soothing her with stories of how scared she'd been when Wesley was born, and how everything had turned out fine. The birth was uncomplicated and the child was born healthy. She also treated a wide variety of bumps and bruises, and at first was alarmed at the number of mild injuries she saw, until she remembered that there was a fencing tournament taking place on the holodeck that day. Jean-Luc had mentioned it that morning, disappointed that his duties wouldn't allow him to participate.

Beverly was an intelligent woman, and not one given to self-deception. She knew what was unsettling her; she just didn't know what to do about it. She was beginning to feel like she might have made a mistake last night when she turned Jean-Luc down, but all of her reasons for doing so were still in force. She was afraid, plain and simple. She was afraid of loving him even more than she already did and then losing him. The thought of his being killed in the line of duty was already like a dagger in her heart, but how much worse would it be if they were lovers, or even married? And, on the other hand, what if they were just not meant to be romantically involved? If their relationship fell apart, would they ever be able to go back to being close friends? And then there were all of the complications that could result from their both being senior Starfleet officers. What if one of them were transferred or offered a promotion elsewhere? Would the other follow, at the expense of a successful career? Or would they try to make it work via subspace messages and the odd rendezvous when they could manage it? Beverly had no answers to any of these questions.

When her shift in sickbay was over, she wandered the corridors aimlessly for a half hour or so before she went back to her quarters. Something was sticking in her mind and she was trying to work it out. She changed out of her uniform and dressed and styled her hair very carefully, though she had no plans for the evening. Beverly picked up a padd and sat down to return to the novel she had been reading. It was a silly bit of fluff, but sometimes that was just what the Chief Medical Officer on a starship needed. Unfortunately, she couldn't even focus on this, because her mind kept being drawn back, not to Jean-Luc as she would have expected, but to sickbay and the baby she had delivered that afternoon. She remembered everything she had said to the new mother and as she heard her own voice in her head, calm and reassuring, she found her answer. The padd lay forgotten on the sofa when Beverly got to her feet and began to pace the room.

"Computer, location of Captain Picard," she requested.

"Captain Picard is in his quarters," came the answer.

"Crusher to Picard," she said immediately.

"Picard here," he replied. "Is something wrong, doctor?"

"Not at all. Would you have dinner with me tonight, Jean-Luc?"

"Certainly. Shall we meet in Ten Forward?"

"I thought I'd host you in my quarters this time," Beverly told him.

There was a pause. "What time?" he asked.

"Is 1900 too early?"

"No, it's perfect. I'll see you soon, Beverly. Picard out."

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Beverly had set the table with dishes of the replicated meal and glasses of wine when her door chimed. He had arrived.

"Come in," she called out. Jean-Luc came into the room, smiling at her just as he had when she had arrived at his quarters for breakfast that morning. If he was upset with her, he apparently did not intend to show it. "I've always felt a little embarrassed serving synthahol to a man who grew up at a vineyard," she told him, handing him a wineglass. "But I've gotten used to the feeling."

"You needn't worry about that, Beverly," he assured her. "There isn't much real wine to be found in deep space."

She smiled. "Have a seat, Jean-Luc. No adventurous Vulcan dishes tonight - just some linguine with pesto."

"Sounds delicious."

They settled into their seats and ate, not speaking much, and when they did, on superficial matters. Beverly was nervous, though not uncomfortable with the silence. She and Jean-Luc had known one another for long enough to appreciate silence as much as conversation. Once they had finished their meal, she offered him another glass of wine and invited him to sit. She sat on the sofa and he chose a chair facing her. He watched her for a while before speaking.

"Beverly, something's troubling you," he remarked. It was not a question.

"Yes," she admitted. "I need to talk to you about something, but I don't know quite where to begin. I think I may have hurt you-"

"If this is about our conversation last night, Beverly, I assure you that I am not angry or upset with you," he told her. "Disappointed, perhaps, but I have a great respect for you, no matter how things are between us. I would never press you."

"I know you wouldn't," Beverly replied. "But I want you to know that something has changed since last night."

"Oh?" Jean-Luc looked cautious, but his face was still open to her.

She patted the sofa beside her. "Please come sit with me," she murmured.

He got up from his chair and sat down very close to her. "Do you mean you aren't afraid anymore of exploring the feelings we have for each other?"

Beverly shook her head. "No, that's not what I mean. Not exactly, anyway."

"Oh." He didn't really understand, so he simply waited for her explanation.

She sighed. "How can I explain this properly?" she asked herself.

"I'll be patient," Jean-Luc told her. "Take as long as you need," he said soothingly, taking her hand.

Beverly nodded and tried to relax. "I delivered a baby in sick bay this afternoon," she began. "Mrs. Morley is a new mother and she was terrified. I tried to comfort her and I hope I succeeded."

"I'm sure you did."

"I told her how scared I was when Wesley was born, but that everything was all right in the end." Beverly looked at her companion, her gaze serious. "I was afraid, Jean-Luc. Afraid. But of course I did it anyway."

Jean-Luc thought he might know where she was going with her narrative, but he wasn't sure, so he said nothing, simply caressing her cheek with his free hand.

"When we were escaping the Prytt, we had to climb out of a pit. You know how much I hate heights. How afraid I am. But I climbed anyway. And when I pushed you through that break in the force field, but couldn't follow, what do you think I felt?"

"I know you felt a great many things at that moment," Jean-Luc murmured. "Remember we were still connected."

"Yes, you're right," she conceded. "Then you know that I was afraid, but relieved. With you in Kes territory, my chances of being rescued were better. I still didn't know if I would be rescued or what the Prytt would do with me, but you were safe. And then..." Beverly held his hand between both of hers.

"And then it was like something out of a film or a play, only there's no way I can think of to show an audience the magic of seeing you, standing there so brave and beautiful, telling me without words how you felt, just as I sent the same message to you."

She looked away from him, unable to moderate her smile. "Yes. We might as well have spoken the words. We both knew our minds were still connected. In that moment, we understood each other."

"Did we, though?" Jean-Luc asked. "I thought so then, but last night it seemed not."

Beverly took a moment to gather her thoughts before speaking again. "We did, Jean-Luc. I loved you. I love you."

"And last night?"

"I'm still afraid," she whispered. "But I'm not going to let that stop me. I want to explore. With you."

A warm smile broke out over his face and he pulled her tightly to him. "I'm so glad," he murmured into her ear.

Beverly pulled away a little. "You're going to have to be patient with my worries and fears, you know."

He nodded. "I know. I love all of you, Beverly, including your worries and fears. Besides, don't you think I'll be worrying, too?"

She laughed. "Anyone who's known you for as long as I have ought to know the answer to that question."

"It won't always be easy, Beverly," Jean-Luc remarked.

"A lot of things could go wrong," she agreed.

"But you and I have handled quite a few difficult situations together." He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Outwitting the Romulans is hardly the same as being in love, Jean-Luc."

"Of course not, but we've never given up, have we? We're a good team."

Beverly smiled. "I hadn't thought of it like that, but you're right."

"We will have our troubles."

"But we'll have them together."

"Precisely." Jean-Luc smiled and then pulled her close. "I love you, Beverly," he murmured.

"I love you, too." Beverly pulled back a little to look in his eyes before she leaned in to kiss his cheek tenderly. This time, however, rather than pulling away and leaving him, she wrapped her arms around him and moved her lips from his cheek to his mouth.

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Beverly awoke alone, but she could hear Jean-Luc in the other room, probably replicating breakfast. When she had made her decision yesterday, she had thought it might be best to take things slowly, but once she was in Jean-Luc's arms and kissing him, all caution flew from her mind. She had previously avoided admitting it, but she knew now that she had wanted him in her bed for years. Giving in to that particular temptation could hardly be considered rushing things, she told herself. In the morning, she could see that her lust-fueled reasoning was not entirely logical, but she didn't regret it.

Beverly stretched her arms and legs and gave a great yawn. She swung her legs over the side of her bed and stood up. A glance over her shoulder showed her that the sheet and blanket were in disarray and that both sides of the bed had been slept in. She couldn't quite bite back a naughty smile that crossed her lips as she remembered what had happened the night before.

"Good morning, Beverly," Jean-Luc greeted her with a smile. "How are you?"

"Wonderful, Jean-Luc," she answered, crossing the room to give him a warm hug. "I'm only sorry I waited so long to seduce you."

He laughed, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "It was worth the wait."

Beverly turned to the table and smiled. "I see you've already been hard at work."

"Coffee and croissants," he said simply.

"Coffee and croissants," she repeated. "Absolutely perfect."

The end.

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