For those who wondered, Q is back to help (!) Jean Luc.

Warning: This chapter is rated M ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Four—Q to the Rescue?

"Mr. Hill." She gasped as he continued his assault on her throat. "Stop . . ." He immediately pulled up and looked at her guiltily.

"I think you're bleeding." Beverly managed to say more evenly. They both tried to sit up, and when he did, Picard felt rather light-headed. He looked down at his right arm, and noticed the dark red stain spreading through the frayed rip in his jacket. Merde, he thought. At once, Beverly's training took over and she helped him off with the jacket, and ripped his shirt sleeve to give her access.

"It doesn't look too bad" she commented, "Just grazed you, but you've lost some blood. Let me have your tie." She proceeded to pull it off his neck and tied it around the wound, using the torn shirt sleeve as a compress. "Just lay back Mr. Hill, we'll be home soon."

Picard put his head back on the seat, and looked at her. "I think you can call me Dix by now." He smiled at her.

Beverly blushed and looked down but became concerned when Picard sighed and closed his eyes.

"Don't pass out, Dix, stay with me." She knew the adrenaline rush was wearing off, and he could lose consciousness, which would not be good. She cast about for a topic, and said, "Tell me about your last case."

Picard tried to tell her something from the books, but it was too hard to remember, and he soon started mumbling about their last mission in the Gerius nebula and how some Arturian traders tried to buy Data for half a ship of gold pressed latinum. Beverly was concerned, as he was clearly delusional.

The gates of the house loomed up and they sped up the driveway. Anthony helped Picard up the stairs, and got him on the bed. Beverly told him to go home, and not discuss what happened with the other servants. Fat chance, she thought,. Then she brought her first aid kit to Picard's room. He was semi-conscious, and she cut off the rest of his shirt, refusing to let herself admire his muscular physique. She pulled off his shoes, but hesitated at the pants. In the end, she put the covers over him as he was.

The wound had stopped bleeding, so Beverly was able to clean it with soap and water, and saw it was indeed just a graze. She treated it with iodine, and wrapped it tightly with clean bandages. He was looking at her, mumbling something she couldn't understand, but when she looked at him, she was taken aback at the emotion she saw there. He must be in shock, she thought. Her mind ran over the things to do, and thought if he got worse she would need to get him to a hospital.

Beverly went down to get a brandy, even though alcohol wasn't really recommended, she thought it might help. When she returned to the room he seemed less pale and seemed to be sleeping normally. She decided to let him rest and get some food ready for when he woke up. She gave the cook the rest of the day off, and bustled around the kitchen. She told herself she had much to do, but deep down Beverly knew that she was avoiding thinking about what had happened in the car. She shivered at the memory, and now he was upstairs, injured trying to keep her from harm.

Picard woke, feeling groggy. He tried to move, but his arm hurt like blazes. He remember the attack outside the mission. "Thanks a lot, Q." He muttered.

A flash of light announced Q's smiling presence. "You're welcome, Jean Luc. My, my, you look as terrible as you did before. Hasn't this little respite been relaxing?"

"Only if you call getting shot therapeutic."

"Verisimilitude, mon capitaine. We must keep up appearances. Now look at you-rescuing the fair maid and getting injured in the process. That should go a long way to help your cause." Q grinned wickedly.

"Keep your voice down. Beverly's around somewhere. She doesn't need to see you after the shock she's had today. This isn't a game anymore Q, Beverly could be hurt. Call off this charade and return us to the ship."

Q shook his head and considered. "No, I think not yet, Jean Luc. There are still a few moves left on the board before you can checkmate."

Picard was more awake now. "Q, I can't concentrate on what I'm trying to do if I have to worry about one of us being killed."

"Oh, very well." Q said with disgust. "No more violence. Just as it was getting interesting, too." With that, he disappeared as Beverly entered the room carrying a tray.

"Are you awake? I thought I heard someone talking."

"Oh, I must have been talking in my sleep. Is that something to eat? I'm pretty hungry." Picard said to change the subject.

Beverly put the try down on the bedside table. "I made you some of my grandmother's vegetable soup." She handed him the steaming bowl and a spoon. She sat on a chair near the bed as Picard ate. "How's the arm?" she asked shyly.

Picard looked up and smiled, "It stings like blazes, but I can move it. Thank you for taking care of it."

Beverly blushed and met his eyes and Picard thought he could get lost in the depths. "You risked your life for me. It's little enough I could do." She said.

Picard smiled again, and felt the growing connection between them, and knew she felt it too. Perhaps Q's idea to start fresh wasn't such a bad one at that. Beverly picked up the dishes and set them aside. She checked the bandage to assure herself the wound wasn't bleeding. "I want you to stay in bed this afternoon and rest."

Picard thought he would get up, but a wave of sleep overwhelmed him. "Are you sure you're all right?" he asked.

"I'm fine, you just get some sleep. I have some letters to write, so I'll see you at dinner. You don't have to dress." She said laughing, and left the room with the tray.

Picard smiled, and drifted off to sleep.

When he woke, he felt better, and got out of bed. He washed up, and got out some of the new clothes Beverly had purchased for him that morning. Was it only that morning? He put on a pair of slacks and a soft sweater, as the evening was getting chilly. The house was quiet and he made his way down to the library. Beverly was there, wearing another lounging gown of green. She was setting a small table for dinner, and looked up to see him.

"Hello, are you feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you. My arm doesn't hurt as much, and I've had a good rest." Picard realized he had slept most of the day.

"Well good, because I've made dinner and I don't cook that often so I hope it's all right. Would you help me carry the dishes?" She spoke quickly, hiding her nervousness.

They went to the kitchen, and Picard got out some dishes, and glassware. "Did you give the servants the night off?"

"No, I'm afraid they all quit when they heard about what happened this morning. I suppose I don't blame them, but I hate being alone." Beverly bit her lower lip as she stirred something on the stove. Picard's heart melted and he wanted to put his arms around her and hold her. Instead, he moved closer and said softly near her ear, "You are not alone." She looked at him and smiled gratefully.

They ate the simple dinner in front of the fireplace in the library, and Picard enjoyed the intimacy better than the formal room they had used before. Beverly slowly relaxed and enjoyed the dinner. The food helped him revive even more, and after dinner, Picard offered to clean up Beverly was in the library with a glass of brandy. After the kitchen was done, he came back into the room to see her standing by the window with her glass. He came up behind her and said, "Penny?"

Beverly turned quickly and looked at him with raised eyebrows. "What?"

He smiled, "Penny for your thoughts."

She looked at him oddly. "That's what my grandmother always says."

"Well, then it's a good question, isn't it? What were you thinking?"

Beverly looked down, not wanting to answer. She had been thinking about him. About how her life seemed different now. She avoided a direct answer. "I'm afraid I'm a little tired. If you don't mind, I'll just turn in early." She didn't look at him as she left the room.

Picard was disappointed that he couldn't pursue any further intimate conversation, but didn't want to push things. He lingered near the fire for a while, enjoying the simplicity of it. It was one of the things he missed about his home in France. After a while, he decided he should try to get some sleep, too.

The moon was shining in the window when Picard woke, his arm feeling better. Without a chronometer he could only guess what time it was. Having slept most of the day, he was now wide awake. Getting up, he put on a robe thinking he would get a book from the library downstairs. Padding quietly on bare feet, he passed Beverly's half-open door and thought he heard something. Pausing, he listened and heard a strangled cry. Pushing the door open, he entered and took a moment to locate the bed and saw Beverly thrashing under the covers. He bent over her and was greeted by flailing arms and could see her terrified eyes.

"Beverly, wake up." Picard gently captured her wrists and sat next to her on the bed. He pulled her to him, putting his arms around her as she woke up and found herself being held, and her dream fear turned to crying. She sobbed against his chest for a minute until she realized what she was doing. How embarrassing, she thought, he must think I'm an idiot.

She pulled away a little, and found herself looking into moonlit hazel eyes. "Are you better?" He asked kindly. She nodded and surprisingly, put her head back on his chest and slid her arms around him. They sat for a few minutes while Beverly regained her composure.

Picard felt the familiar and painful conundrum take hold. He knew with little effort he could get her to respond to him, the episode in the car had shown him that, but was it what he wanted? Did he want to push her into something she would regret, and would she resent him for it? The same thought had occurred to him so often in his own timeline, and the answer left him frustrated and defeated. Beverly always backed away, choosing not to take the final step. But what should he do now?

Beverly leaned against his chest, bare beneath the robe. His warmth and arms around her made her feel safe and comfortable. She was aware of his male presence and it exhilarated her. She moved her fingers slightly up and down his back, and felt him give a small sigh, but he didn't move. Emboldened, she brushed her lips against his chest when she moved her head. Still nothing.

She pulled away again and smiled at him, "I think I'll go wash my face." She got out of bed, and he stood up, looking at her. "Would you stay here for a minute?"

Beverly went into the bathroom and tidied up, wondering why he hadn't even tried to kiss her. What had happened since the morning? Determined to get a response, she stood in the bathroom door, letting the light flood behind her before she snapped it off. She knew that would render her nightgown transparent, and noticed his sharp intake of breath as he saw her. She glided over the floor to where he was still standing, and put her arms around his neck. "Thank you for watching out for me." She said as she pulled his lips toward hers for a tender kiss.

Picard couldn't believe it. Was she seducing him? She pressed herself against him and it strained all his willpower not to push her down on the bed. He wanted to caress her until she writhed with pleasure, feel her naked body move beneath him as he fulfilled her need. Stop this, he thought desperately. He tried to break away from her embrace. "I think I should go now" he said between gritted teeth. "Perhaps I should go now."

Beverly couldn't believe it. She wrapped her arms around him more tightly. A fine time to get chivalrous, she thought. Her body was screaming for him to kiss her, touch her. The heat in her belly was overwhelming and she had to have him. Beverly pulled him down on the bed on top of her, the strap of her nightgown falling to reveal her breast. Picard groaned, his last shred of resistance gone as Beverly moved beneath him. He responded with a low growl and invaded her mouth as he pulled off her gown. He had wanted the first time with her to be tender and loving, but she set the pace and now his body was out of control.

Beverly exulted in his touch, the wild passion of his lovemaking. She responded in kind, astonished at her abandon. She cried out when he entered her, climaxing almost at once, but he didn't slow, and he pressed into her again and again, demanding response and as she helplessly shuddered around him, he cried out with his own release.

Morning light streamed in the windows, and Picard was the first to awaken. He lay there looking at Beverly sleeping, and marveled at her capacity for passion. After all this time, he had finally achieved his objective to have Beverly as his own. His heart was light, remembering how she had given herself to him, and how they had melded their souls. Another part of his anatomy was also responding, so Picard thought it a good idea to take a shower,

As he washed and tried to shave, he knew he needed to call Q, to get them back to the ship. He was surprised Q hadn't shown up yet to harangue him. Q always was a sore loser, Picard thought. Clean and dry, he reentered the bedroom to find Beverly waking up stretching. He smiled and sat next to her on the bed, "Good morning, mon belle." He said as he kissed her neck.

"Why Mr. Hill, er, I mean Dix, I didn't know you spoke French."

Picard pulled away and froze. "Beverly? Don't you know me?"

She noticed his look, and concern flooded her eyes. She put her hand on his head, and said "Are you feeling all right? Any fever? "

He grasped her hand with his own and kissed her fingers. "No, I'm fine." He managed to say through his disappointment. "Why don't you get up and I'll see about some breakfast" He moved toward the door

Beverly sat up in bed. "That's nice, but I'll want to take a look at your arm after we eat. "

.As he went downstairs his thoughts were bleak. He was devastated that she still didn't recognize him. What about last night? According to Q's requirements, when she loved him all this would be over. Surely, surely, the passion she showed him meant that? He had loved her for so long, how could he have been mistaken? Was Q playing more tricks?

TBC

Hope you enjoyed as much as Jean Luc and Beverly! Will Beverly ever recognize him? The next chapter will tell all!