Will and Deanna's quarters were spacious and neutral, the station visible through the windows and viewports on the far wall. Picard sat uneasily on the couch, across from his former first officer. Will was telling him of Beverly's messages over the past year. "She wouldn't say a word about you, you know. She never asked about you, never inquired about you. It was very odd. She would speak about everyone else who had been on the Enterprise…except you."
Picard looked down at the glass in his hand, swirled the amber liquid. He couldn't speak, his thoughts around Beverly bordering on obsession. He didn't realize how hard he worked on a daily basis to push her out of his mind, but having Deanna speak the truth earlier in that wretched, required counseling session, then seeing Beverly on the station when she had looked so exuberant, laughing with that other man, and now as he sat across from Will, who had brought her up and immediately directed the conversation towards her -
A clutch in his chest at Will's statements, a tightening that had to be all emotion, because he knew damn well that his heart couldn't actually seize up (the artifical heart Beverly had cared for all of those years in her Sickbay…how many times had she taken care of him in that way, put him back together? The feel of her hands upon his chest or his arm as she examined him, he could conjure up the memories at a moment's notice...)
Picard sighed, looked up, resolved to be completely honest about his roiling emotions. He trusted Will. He had known the man for years and years. "I fear that I have waited too long," Picard began, but unexpectedly he found himself choking up. Unable to proceed, he looked down at the amber liquid in the glass in his hand, then closed his eyes, attempting to compose himself.
Will was quiet as he sat on the couch across the low table, and it was a comfortable silence, one that was full of patience. Then the steady sound of Will refilling both glasses. Then: "Sir, if I may speak freely…"
Picard opened his eyes to see Will's steady gaze, so open and just patiently waiting. My, how our roles have reversed, Picard mused. Nodded once, then braced himself for whatever would come out of his former first officer's mouth.
"If you don't try, then you'll regret missing this opportunity for the rest of your life." Distantly, Picard realized that Will sounded somewhat like Deanna. Even the cadence of his speech echoed Deanna's pronouncements, remembered from over the years. And from the session just hours before.
"What is your worst fear?" And now Will most certainly sounded like Deanna. Merde.
"That we will have thrown away our last opportunity for love." Picard attempted to continue after such a frank statement and then held his breath, conflicted. No, that's not it at all…
"Actually, that's not true," he slowly backtracked, holding Will's gaze. "If we never try, then I always have hope. But if we try and then we fail? Then I've lost her. I don't think I could survive that pain." Picard leaned back on the couch, stunned at his surprising self-revelation. He had been deluding himself all of these years. Holding Beverly at arms' length to preserve the hope that perhaps some day they could be together. And he would never have to truly lose her if they never tried.
Will cleared his throat, then, looked nervous. "However, it goes both ways. If I may speak freely, sir?"
"Will, of course." Picard frowned at the man's sudden hesitation.
Will rubbed his face, looking suddenly older, weary. "Sir, the thought of losing Deanna haunts me. But I'd rather live with that fear than give up our time together." The hand went down, and the younger man leaned forward with intensity. "When we decided to be together, it was irrational, foolish, a perceived conflict of interest - but we weren't willing to live in the shadow of fear any longer. If you love Beverly, then you need to simply be with her, and the rest will all work out somehow."
Picard leaned forward and looked at his former first officer with a haunted expression. "I love her, Will. I've loved her for thirty years."
"Does she know that?" Picard opened his mouth to reply - and then stopped again. Did she? Does she know the depth of my feelings towards her? Picard watched Will raise one eyebrow in an arch that was entirely too satisfied, like a marksman who had hit the center of the target. Oh, now he most certainly reminds me of Deanna-
"Are you afraid that she is happy enough without you?" Picard actually felt himself twitch at Will's words. They hit too close to home. And Will raised both of his brows at Picard, now, as if asking for an answer. This man is too much like Deanna, now...
"What if she doesn't need me, Will?" The confession, the question, it slipped past his lips as easily as any casual statement, but the weight of speaking his fear out loud nearly crushed him. And Will smiled at him.
Smiled! Why the hell is he smiling?
"Our guests should arrive in a moment. Don't let this opportunity pass you by." Will's pronouncement jolted Picard out of self-reflection just as the portal to the captain's quarters slid open with a barely perceivable whoosh, revealing Deanna and Beverly in the open frame.