Author's Note: The portion of this scene taken directly from Death In Winter by Michael Jan Friedman is in BOLD font.

The butterflies churned in her stomach as she stepped off the passageway from Earth Station McKinley on to the Enterprise. In spite of her nervousness, Dr. Beverly Crusher was glad to be home. There was a sense of calm, of comfort that was found nowhere else in the universe than being on the Enterprise. Even now, her step had more spring, and her shoulders felt lighter. She smiled and started down the corridor toward the turbolift.

As she walked through the ship, she noticed that things were starting to come together. Bulkheads had been replaced, and new carpeting had been laid. When she arrived on the bridge, she took in her surroundings. The bridge had been improved since she'd last seen it, though there hadn't been much left. The hull breach had been repaired, the consoles had been replaced, but cables still hung haphazardly throughout the space.

Beverly spotted Commander Worf, who was standing near Ops, tabbing through information on a PADD. She approached him, smiling.

"Looks like things around here are improving."

"It is... progressing." Worf replied. "Welcome back, doctor. I didn't expect you so early. Commander La Forge and I were planning on meeting you upon your arrival."

"I needed to come home on my own, Worf," Beverly replied calmly despite the growing knot of apprehension as she thought of her next duty: reporting to the captain. "Has Captain Picard returned to duty?"

Worf's demeanor shifted to one she knew meant he was displeased. "The captain began his shift a few minutes ago, however, I do not think he is ready to resume command. As we discussed yesterday evening when you first contacted me, he is still unsettled."

"Perhaps my first duty after reporting in will be persuading the captain to take a bit more time off." Beverly responded, the apprehension now mixing with remorse. Why did I take so long to figure out what I needed to do? I hope it's not too late to undo the damage between us.

"A wise decision, doctor." Worf answered. "As per your request, he is still unaware of your return. May I?"

Beverly nodded, feeling more trepidation with each passing moment, but forcing herself to stay calm.

"Commander Worf to Captain Picard."

"Picard here," came the reply. Beverly felt her heart jump at the sound of Jean-Luc's voice, and hoped it didn't show.

"Sir," Worf responded, with a gleam in his eye. "The new chief medical officer has arrived."

There was another pause-- longer than either of them had expected; she and Worf exchanged concerned glances.

The anxiety heightened again, knowing that Jean-Luc didn't have any idea that she had returned to the Enterprise. She worried, remembering that while doctors were always needed and wanted someplace, she preferred to be needed and wanted by a someone who needed and wanted her. Being the CMO of the flagship of the Federation had nothing to do with her anxiety. Whether or not Jean-Luc Picard needed or wanted her on a personal level had now become the source of her trepidation.

"Send him to my ready room," came Jean-Luc Picard's unusually terse response. She grinned openly at Worf.

"You mean-" Worf paused for effect, "-send her to your ready room."

This time the response was quicker, but sounded more resigned. "Yes, of course. Send her."

Beverly moved towards the door to the ready room and silently mouthed a thank you to Worf.

Worf entered the turbolift and departed with a brief nod.

Standing before the door allowed the sensors to chirp her arrival. "Come," came the standard call from the speaker above the door.

As she stepped forward into the room, Beverly saw Jean-Luc standing at the window, his back to her, watching the stars outside. The doors swished shut behind her, and she quietly crossed the room to the side of his desk. Years of experience told her that Worf had been right-- Jean-Luc was most certainly not himself. His posture told her that he was using every ounce of strength just to hold himself together.

He began to speak, still peering out the window before him, in the formal tone he used whenever he addressed visitors as the ship's captain. "I apologize, I was tied up, or I would have greeted you in the transporter room. In any case," he continued, still entirely unaware of the fact that he was addressing her, "I'm glad to have you aboard. You are obviously highly qualified, or you wouldn't have been selected for this assignment."

Beverly took a breath to calm herself, keeping her voice steady as she replied, "I requested this assignment, Captain."

Jean-Luc's head snapped around toward her, his eyes wide. Beverly sensed that he was still grasping the notion that she was actually there; that he was questioning whether or not his eyes were telling him the truth.

He opened his mouth, obviously caught off guard, and began speaking. "I don't.... understand..." his voice trailed off.

Beverly didn't think, she didn't have to. She stepped past the corner of the desk toward him. Taking his hands in her own, she pulled him toward her. Her lips moved over his, not in a chaste manner as in years past, but lovingly. She wanted him to understand he was the reason for her return.

When they pulled apart momentarily, she spoke again, letting the words tumble out. "I've been a fool, Jean-Luc. I was given a second chance at loving you, and I almost threw it away. Can you forgive me?"

She looked directly into his hazel eyes, searching for something, anything, that indicated the answer to what was the biggest, riskiest question she'd ever posed. Jean-Luc pulled loose one hand, brushed a stray piece of hair away from her face and met her gaze.

"Perhaps in time," his tone was amiable, as he began to smile, "but then, we have plenty of that now, don't we?" He brushed his mouth against hers, then settled more firmly. As their mouths parted then rejoined, Beverly could feel the uncertainty drain from her body.

As they finally broke apart, Jean-Luc asked, "Have dinner with me tonight?"

"Of course." she replied with a smile, as she ran her eyes the length of Jean-Luc's toned physique. "I suppose I should get down to sickbay, see how things are going down there."

She knew that they needed time; nothing in their relationship happened quickly. It had taken them over a decade to reach this point.

"I look forward to it," he responded, letting go of her and stepping back.

Beverly moved back around the desk to leave. As she did so, Jean-Luc called out behind her, "Beverly, welcome home."