Muse: I was reading a Crusher/Picard ship fic when I wondered what it would be like if it was Beverly who initiated the conversation with Picard instead of it being the other way around, because it is pretty out of character for him to do something like that. I also took inspiration from the episode where the Enterprise was in a time loop, and Beverly was one of the first to notice things repeating.

Set after the poker game at the end of All Good Things…

Beverly watched with laughter lighting her eyes as the poker game concluded. "I must say, we haven't had competition like that since, well, since Beverly came back on board!" Riker grinned. "Why did you leave for Starfleet medical that year?" All eyes turned to Beverly, all with intrigue, but Picard's were the only pair with an invested interest. He'd never discussed her reasons for leaving, just that she was ecstatic to return.

"I haven't had nearly enough synthahol to divulge into that story," Beverly brushed it off, her smile unwavering.

"Perhaps another night then," Riker's eyes fell back to Deanna who hadn't been watching Worf with her recent enthusiasm. Sensing Riker's thoughts focusing in on her, Deanna felt it was a good time to go before anything heated happened. She was trying to keep things professional until she'd moved past her brief and confusing relationship with Worf. He himself was considering placement on a Deep Space station to have a chance at a stable home for him and Alexander.

"I'd better head off, full schedule tomorrow morning," she excused herself.

"That does sound like a good idea," Picard agreed, tugging down his shirt. Realising he was leaving, Beverly was quick to follow suit. She'd wanted to talk with him in private after a vague memory had come to her after scanning him for signs of Irumodic Syndrome earlier that day. It felt like the time the Enterprise was stuck in a repeating time loop, like deja vu except this event didn't repeat.

"I'll head off too, good night everyone," she stood, going out after him. Catching up as he waited for the turbolift to arrive. "Jean-Luc, do you have a minute?" she asked before it arrived.

"Of course, what's on your mind?" he said as they entered the turbolift together.

"The present you saw, the day that didn't happen, can you remember it?" she inquired as the turbolift headed to Picard's quarters.

"Yes, very clearly," he nodded.

"Did I come and see you in your Ready Room for some reason?" she asked as she wrapped her arms around herself, watching him intently. "It's just, I have the vaguest recollection of being there and talking to you, and we were alone." Picard looked down, piercing his lips, furrowing his brow slightly in thought.

"Why don't you come in, we can discuss it in my quarters," he said without meeting her eye, going out when the turbolift doors opened. She followed him eagerly in silence. "Would you like a drink?" he asked her when the door had hissed shut behind her. He was anxious, she could tell.

"I'm fine," she assured him and they went instinctively over to the sofa. "Well?" She raised her eyebrows, waiting for his explanation.

"You did come into my Ready Room, yes," Picard admitted after a few seconds, focusing his attention on his coffee table as he scratched his neck. The table suddenly appeared to be an object of great interest, how smooth and flawless the surface was. Much like Beverly's complexion… Picard noticed before he realised what he'd thought. Perhaps this wasn't a good idea, he suddenly felt uncomfortable, not recalling precisely how much synthahol he'd drunk.

"And?" Beverly insisted. "What happened? One of us must have said something." He was silent, trying to work out how to tell her while making it as casual as possible.

"You came in to order me to my quarters," he still didn't look at her when he responded in a slightly quieter voice. "To order me back to bed, I hadn't slept much that night." Beverly nodded slowly a few times. "You knew about the possibility of me having Irumodics Syndrome by that point. In fact, you seemed quite upset by it." He looked at her sidelong as she bit her lip and looked down at the floor.

"That hasn't changed," she said softly. "As I recall we were holding hands." Her eyes squinted slightly as she tried to recall what felt like a vague dream. "You said you liked to think the future wasn't something set in stone. That a lot of things can happen in 25 years…" She looked up into his eyes. Her eyes widened and her fingertips rose to her mouth. Her gaze held his as he straightened, turning to face her. Still holding eye contact, she reached out and gently took his hand. "A lot of things can happen," she whispered, barely audible. Blushing, he glanced down at their linked hands. With the hand she'd raised to her lips, she reached out and stroked the side of his cheek gently, her fingers brushing across his skin. He closed his eyes, treasuring her touch. "Why are you embarrassed?" Her hand fell to rest atop of his. Jean-Luc slowly opened his eyes.

"You walked out, I was so confused," he admitted. She tilted her head with a small laugh, her eyes large and shining. Jean-Luc would stare into those eyes for all eternity if the universe gave him the choice.

"You're confused?" she mused, lowering her chin and raising her eyebrows. "Why did you try to tell me you didn't have feelings for me anymore on Kesprytt?" she challenged him. His eyebrows snapped together.

"What are you talking about?" he said in a low and hard voice, his eyes serious and stern.

"You said you didn't have those feelings anymore! By the campfire, remember! Then I said 'now we're friends'," she reminded him. He turned his head to the side a little, eyebrows lowering though his eyes widened.

"Beverly, that's not what I meant at all!" he shook his head passionately. Her expression changed to one of surprise. "No, Beverly, what I meant, when I said that, I meant I didn't feel guilty anymore! Seeing you again, happy, seeing what a fine young man you raised Wesley to be, it helped me accept that Jack's death wasn't my fault, that you didn't hate me for it."

"Jean-Luc, how could I ever hate you?!" she exclaimed once she'd found her voice. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close, closing her eyes as her mind reprogrammed itself. This was a very unexpected, and very welcome, new light on events passed. "All this time," she breathed. Leaning back she went on, "That's cleared up a lot of things." The smile reached her eyes. They rested their foreheads against each other, both smiling, enjoying merely being in the presence of the other. "We should have talked a long time ago."

"I never found the right time," he mumbled as she smelt in the rich scent of his cologne. It was much stronger being this close. Usually it was hardly noticeable, just his normal scent. Being up close, it filled her nose, burning itself into her memory.

"In my experience, there's rarely a right time," Beverly's fingers brushed lightly from his cheek, over his ear, her hand flipping over as it passed down his neck to rest on his chest. She could feel the gentle beating of his artificial heart. "There are just times which... aren't as wrong." They both opened their eyes for hardly a second before leaning in even closer, entwining their bodies, lips meeting.

"I love you, Beverly," Jean-Luc murmured when they stopped for breath.

"I love you too, Jean-Luc," she whispered back to him. The way she said his name sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine, something he'd known only Beverly able to do. They eventually fell asleep together, bodies entwined, peaceful and happy with the universe. Above them, the stars zoomed past as the Enterprise went on to its next mission.