He had eaten silently across the table and the silence was comfortable, but he kept…looking at her. Really looking at her. It unnerved her - and intrigued her. And she finally explicitly admitted to herself that she was going to spend these next few hours or days together as if there were no barriers. It would probably (most likely) hurt much, much more when she left.

But she had been so damn cautious all of her years beside her Jean-Luc and this Jean-Luc was looking at her like he owned her. God, it was so good. So good. She hadn't realized that this was what she had been longing for all of those years...

"Tell me about Evangeline?" she asked, breaking the silence, because she really did want to know. She had seen the pictures of the young woman, a woman who looked like a perfect blend of the two of them. And she watched as his face softened. He smiled. And began to describe his daughter.

Eventually they were sitting over empty plates, laughing. It was...comfortable. Good. No, more than good. Intimate. It was like she was with her Jean-Luc, but..closer, if that was possible. Deeper, even more comfortable. It brought back memories of the daily breakfast conversations they had shared, but the barriers were down. He was being so open and she liked it. A lot.

Suddenly, she yawned. The day was catching up with her.

"Time for you to go back to bed," he laughed. She grinned at the familiar tone in his voice. "You look tired," he continued, and she caught her breath at the affection within his blunt statement. His words had run off of his tongue and she knew - she knew - he had told his wife that time and time again when she had pushed herself to the limit and needed to rest.

"And I should go back to the bridge," he said wistfully, looking across the table at her with an odd, longing expression, until he shuttered his features and stood, tugging down the front of his uniform. "Go get some rest. Will you be here-" he cut himself off, looked out the window, then turned his full attention to her again as she sat at the table. "Will you be here when I return? And we can continue...our conversation?"

He wants me to stay here, in his quarters. An odd flutter in her stomach, and she stood, nodding. "Enjoy the bridge," she said quietly and he shrugged in response, such a small gesture but it was so private, and his barriers were down for her.

"Nothing exciting up there. Simply biding time as we outfit the shuttle for you and return to the anomaly. You know, when I'm on the bridge, I still find myself looking for Data, Will, Deanna….They are still alive, in your…?"

She nodded, following his abrupt transition. "Will and Deanna are married and together on a ship, Data has his own command, and Geordi is my chief engineer on the Pasteur."

He smiled sadly. "Good, good. They were lost entirely too soon. You look beautiful in lavender, Beverly."

She froze in the act of reaching back down for her mug, found herself blushing at the unexpected compliment, the look on his face. "I'm not her-" it defensively slipped out, even as she felt a warmth at his words.

"I know, Beverly. I know. But you are very much like her. How could I not find you beautiful?"

She swallowed, not entirely comfortable with the scrutiny, the assessment…but enjoying it. He looked back at the portal again, at the stars.

"I should go, get to the bridge." He stood. "I will see you soon." It was a statement, not a question.


She cleared the table after he had left nearly abruptly, pondering his words. The door chime sounded and instinctively knew it wasn't Jean-Luc coming back. "Who is it?" she called out.

"It's Counselor Rivas. May I enter?" Interesting. I've been curious about him.

"Yes, come in. I'll be right there." She went into the guest bedroom and cleaned up and looked at her reflection over the sink. Basically she looked the same, other than the darker circles under her eyes. Vaguely she wished that the counselor was Deanna, and a pang of homesickness slid through her. This universe was not her home, and she didn't really know anyone other than Jean-Luc, and this Jean-Luc wasn't her Jean-Luc...

Shaking her head, she left the bedroom and the counselor was standing in the middle of the living area, in uniform, and he seemed surprised to see her? "Ah, I expected-" and he vaguely gestured towards the main bedroom door, which was closed. He had expected me to come out of Jean-Luc's bedroom? Her shock must have been evident on her face, because he cleared his throat. "I'm Counselor Rivas," he repeated and seemed a bit off kilter, "and I came to see how you were doing."

She sat down on the couch without a word, and didn't offer him anything to drink. If this counselor thought that there was more intimacy than was truly present, she wasn't going to give him a bit of data to support his observation. A wave of protectiveness slid through her at the idea of this counselor prying into this Jean-Luc's private life.

She didn't like the man standing in front of her.

After a short, awkward pause, Rivas sat too, watching her carefully, then leaned back into the cushions and instantly she felt a slide of distaste. Something odd about him...and she wondered if he had deliberately shown up when she would be alone.

"How are you feeling?" His words were a touch impatient, and she realized that she had been silent, but this man was oddly urgent. Very odd. And off-putting, especially for a counselor.

"Honestly? I'm still getting used to having my freedom again, to some degree at least-"

"What do you mean? Is Picard keeping you here?" His straightened spine and sharp tone made her crook an eyebrow. That wasn't what she meant at all.

"No, of course not! I just...I've ended up staying here, and it's fine." She waved her hand vaguely, as if she was referring to the accommodations, not the primary resident, attempting to redirect the counselor's attention away from her relationship (no, there is no relationship, Beverly, why are you acting as though there is something to hide?) He was watching her carefully but he seemed to accept her implication at face value.

"Mmm. And how is the captain?" Immediately her guard went up at his seemingly simple question. She wouldn't have divulged information about her Jean-Luc, and something told her to follow the same rule here. He was (they were) private men.

"He has been very helpful." Full stop. Nothing else to say.

The counselor nodded, waited for more. Which she did not offer. He leaned back again. "How is he reacting to your presence?" He gestured at her, and his seemingly offhand movement seemed to encompass her physical appearance? Oh my, this was too much, too...no. Just, no.

"The captain has been very accommodating." She met his gaze with her blandest expression and waited for him to continue.

"And you are well? Managing the stress of this transition?"

"Well enough. I'm weary, though. It's good to be safe, and the captain said that I'll be back in my universe in a day or two." She deliberately used his title.

Seemingly satisfied, the counselor nodded, his attention shifting elsewhere. He was finished with her. Standing, he nodded at her. "Contact me if you need anything." And he left without a goodbye, leaving Beverly confused and a bit unsettled. She did not like that man.