Part 4

Oh, it's carnival night and they're stringing the lights around you

Hanging paper angels, painting little devils on the roof

Oh the furnace wind is a flickering of wings about your face

In a cloud of incense yeah, it smells like Heaven in this place

I can't eat, can't sleep, still I hunger for you when you look at me

That face, those eyes all the sinful pleasures deep inside

Tell me how, you know now, the ways and means of getting in

Underneath my skin, oh you were always my original sin

And tell me why, I shudder inside, every time we begin

This dangerous game, oh you were always my original sin

A dream will fly the moment that you open up your eyes

A dream is just a riddle, ghosts from every corner of your life

Up in the balcony all the Romeos are bleeding for your hand

Blowing theater kisses reciting lines they don't understand

I can't eat, can't sleep, still I hunger for you when you look at me

That face, those eyes all the sinful pleasures deep inside

Tell me how, you know now, the ways and means of getting in

Underneath my skin, oh you were always my original sin

And tell me why, I shudder inside, every time we begin

This dangerous game, oh you were always my original sin

Tell me how, you know now, the ways and means of getting in

Underneath my skin, oh you were always my original sin

Tell me why, I shudder inside, every time we begin

This dangerous game, oh you were always my original sin

Elton John, "Original Sin."

Pressing the keypad to unlock her apartment in San Francisco, Beverly is dazed. Throughout the day, she felt like she had been going through motions, viewing herself from above, feeling out of body. It had been like for a week, ever since she had been dealt the tragic blow.

Jean-Luc allows Beverly to enter the room and then steps through after her, carrying an exhausted five year-old Wesley in his arms.

Beverly adjusts the lighting before dropping her bag. "Do you mind taking him into his room? I'll get him changed."

Jean-Luc follows Beverly through to the first small bedroom in the simple two-bedroom suite in the high-rise building in close proximity to Starfleet Medical and lays the half-dozing boy on the bed. The five year-old's room is decorated in a space theme, with decals of stars, moons and planets lining the walls, and a large holographic projection of a starship flies across the ceiling. A bright silver moon orbits high above the bed, casting a dim light across the bed like a dull night-light.

Beverly retrieves Wesley's pajamas from a closet and moves over to the bed to beginning undressing her son from the formal wear he had sported for the memorial service and burial.

Shaking his head as Beverly exchanges his dress pants for pajama bottoms, Wesley whines. "No. I want a story."

Spent after the demanding day, Beverly is in no mood to fight with the boy. "Honey, it's very late."

Putting a hand up, Jean-Luc interjects. "Go get undressed, relax. I'll read the boy a story. He'll be asleep in thirty seconds."

Smiling in gratitude, Beverly looks at Jean-Luc graciously. "Thank you." She bends down to kiss Wesley's lips. "Goodnight, sweetie. I love you."

Collapsing onto the pillows, Wesley hugs her soundly. "Goodnight, Mommy."

Jean-Luc perches on the side of the bed and Beverly collects Wesley's clothes and then quietly sneaks out of the room.

PAGE BREAK

When Jean-Luc emerges from the bedroom, he finds Beverly sitting on the sofa with a glass of wine, still in her blue dress uniform.

Lifting her head, Beverly raises her wine glass. "You'd better join me, or I'm going to have a whole host of other problems."

Half-smiling, Jean-Luc meanders over to the sofa where Beverly has placed a second glass of cabernet sauvignon on the table in front for him.

Lowering himself onto the sofa, Jean-Luc takes the wine glass. "He was out like a light."

Falling back into the sofa cushions, Beverly closes her eyes. "He has no idea, you know. I had talked about what Jack did on the Stargazer. Wesley knew all about Daddy the Starfleet Officer. He was so proud, said he wanted to be just like Jack."

Reading her expression, Jean-Luc's own feelings of guilt and remorse resurface.

"Wesley loved visiting the ship, and Jack would bring him little momentos from different places you'd traveled. I tried to explain to him that some parts of Daddy's job were dangerous, that there were risks serving with Starfleet. But, he's so little. Besides, we were so far removed from that life here on Earth. He had no clue," Beverly remarks, almost surprised herself.

Inhaling deeply, Jean-Luc reaches for her hand, setting his glass on the table. "Beverly…"

"I've tried to explain it, but he doesn't really understand that Daddy's never coming home this time," whispers Beverly, hard lump in her throat. She sets her own glass down next to Jean-Luc's on the table.

"Beverly, I'm…" Utterly helpless, Jean-Luc moves his hand to rub her arm.

"Don't," implores Beverly, desperately trying to restrain her tears . All day she had held it together perfectly. Of course she had wanted to present a professional face in front of all of her friends, colleagues, all of the Starfleet dignitaries. In reality, all she had wanted was to be strong for her son. There would be plenty of time for her to grieve in private. Right now, her son needs her.

"I am sorry, Beverly," whispers Jean-Luc ruefully, his chest constricted. "Jack was…a fine officer. I deeply regret that your son will not have his father to guide him."

Closing her watery eyes, Beverly wishes she could chalk this up to one horrific nightmare. She cannot fathom that it was only a few days ago that Jean-Luc had delivered Jack's body to Starbase 31. "I can't believe this is real. They handed me that folded up flag and I felt like they put the weight of a galaxy on my shoulders."

Jean-Luc draws her into his arms, silently wishing there was something he could do to alleviate her pain. "It's over now, Beverly. You got through this week."

"Now what?" questions Beverly helplessly, tiny tears escaping her eyes. "Now what do I do?"

Jean-Luc envelopes his arms around her back, holding her close. "I promise you'll be okay, Beverly."

"Jean-Luc, I don't know what I'd do without you," admits Beverly honestly, cupping his cheek.

"You're not alone," Jean-Luc assures her, taking her hand.

Shakily, Beverly grazes his cheek, her eyes fixated on his.

Holding her gaze, Jean-Luc is filled with trepidation. "Beverly…"

Pressing her lips to his, Beverly traces his jawline, entwining their fingers between the two hands they hold on his lap.

Breaking off, Jean-Luc appraises her cautiously. "Beverly…"

Looking at him imploringly, Beverly cups his neck. "Please, Jean-Luc.."

Grazing her cheek with his thumb, he absorbs the wake of her tears. "This is terribly foolish…"

"I just buried my husband. I'm in…nine kinds of pain. I need you," insists Beverly, running her hand down his neck, loosening the collar of his dress uniform.

Groaning, Jean-Luc grits his teeth as Beverly unzips his tunic. " Beverly, we can't…This is wrong. You're mourning."

Slipping her hand down his tunic to splay across his chest, Beverly stares at him heatedly. "You owe me, Jean-Luc."

A long hiss escapes his teeth as her nails trail down his chest. "That's not fair."

Pressing her hips flush against his, Beverly whispers against his lips, the vibrations of her words sending a chill reverberating down his spine. "I want you."

With a low growl, Jean-Luc captures her lips and grabs her waist, drawing her impossibly close. In an instant, the reinforced walls he had carefully constructed had come crumbling down at the bat of her eye, and he had turned to putty in her hands.