1st Variation
Standing behind her as Beverly brought out the cake, Jean-Luc listened to the voices around him and picked out the individual tones of his crew. Deanna, Geordi, Data and Will were all around him, but he couldn't help following Beverly with his eyes. He reminded himself again that he should try harder to control his feelings when he was around her. She'd turned him down after Kesprytt and the last thing he wanted was to jeopardize their friendship.
Except, for some unknown reason, tonight she kept smiling in his direction. Beverly had remained within an arm's reach of him the entire evening, almost as if her decision to remain friends, to keep a distance between them, had been nullified. Beverly stayed near him. As they listened to Worf recount his victories at the bat'leth tournament, he could have touched her. She'd returned from the conference on Starbase 338 in a good mood and as the night wore on, Jean-Luc started to think she was glowing. Perhaps it was the party, or simply that the conference had gone well; whatever the cause, something felt different.
He'd intended to lean over and ask her when she suddenly faded. Beverly took half a step back from the circle, shaking her head while Geordi asked if she was all right. She stared at Jean-Luc blankly as he caught her arm.
"When did the painting change?" she asked. Beverly dropped her head into her hands, taking the chair Worf offered. "I swear it was different," she repeated when he touched her shoulder.
"It's always been this way," Jean-Luc answered gently. She grabbed his hand, startling him with her desire for comfort.
"It had more blue," she trailed off, still unconvinced, "I must be tired."
"It's a long trip by shuttle alone," he rationalized for her. "Would you like me to escort you to sickbay?"
"No," her response was adamant. "I'm fine." Beverly sighed and softened her shoulders. Eyes closed, she rubbed her fingers in slow circles on her temples. "I will let you walk me to home," she finished.
"Headache?" he asked softly after they bid Worf goodnight and headed for the turbolift.
She shrugged weakly and accepted the arm he offered without protest. Beverly wound her hand around his forearm and his concern deepened.
"Just happened all of a sudden," she explained, "everything grayed out. Except Data's painting, that stayed pretty damn bright."
Jean-Luc chuckled dryly and stepped into the lift. "Deck nine," he told the computer. "I hope the conference wasn't too hard on you."
"No, it was lovely," she answered dully. "I got to hear Dr. Wade and Dr. Roget present their research and the rumors have already started that they'll be up for the Carrington Award next year."
"Isn't Dr. Wade over a century?" he asked politely trying to remember if he knew anything about Roget.
"Still a dynamic public speaker," Beverly sighed, closing her eyes again and shaking her head. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience."
"Not at all," he brought them to a halt in front of her quarters. "Here you are."
Beverly looked from him to the door and stopped short. Her blue eyes darted from the door to his face and she blinked twice, as if trying to clear her vision.
"These aren't my quarters," she murmured, digging her hand into her lower back and shaking her head. "What's going on?"
"Of course these are your quarters," Jean-Luc insisted, surprised by the confusion on Beverly's face. He knew she hadn't been feeling well, but he'd thought it was simply exhaustion. "Your name is on the door. Room 2133. You've had these quarters for three years. We had breakfast in them right before you left for Starbase 338."
Beverly shook her head and he noticed her lip whitening as she bit it. "I don't understand," she answered, shaking her head again. Her forehead tightened. "You and I, we share quarters, room 3601." She pointed in the direction of his quarters and shook her head. "Jean-Luc, I'm not crazy."
"I didn't insinuate that you were," he reached for her shoulder and squeezed it. "Maybe we should go to sickbay. Perhaps let Doctor Selar take a look at you."
Beverly shook her head and tapped the door control. "I just need to--" she stopped speaking as she entered, whatever she was going to say forgotten.
He followed her in, recognizing nothing out of the ordinary as they looked around the room. "Is it possible you were exposed to an alien compound on the starbase? Maybe a virus at one of the lectures?" His attempt at logic only seemed to make her more frustrated. Her eyebrows narrowed and she glared at him.
Pacing the room, she stared at her belongings in exasperation. "These are supposed to be in your quarters," she pointed at a set of Andorian candlesticks. "This plant sits next to your desk," she indicated the large plant with pink flowers by her bedroom door. "My clothes should be in your closet--" she stopped, standing in front of the mirror.
Following her eyes, Jean-Luc hoped he would not make her more agitated by staring. Her uniform was tight across the chest and something was strange about the black patch over her stomach. That also appeared too tight. Beverly's hand dropped to her belly and he realized there was a swelling in her figure that had been absent three days ago when she'd left.
"Jean-Luc," her tone had switched completely, anger whisked away as if it had been blown out like a candle. Her voice was soft instead of angry and he wondered if Beverly was going to fade out again. "We need to go to sickbay." He barely caught her arm as she turned abruptly and dragged him to the door.
"What's wrong?" he asked as they hurried to the turbolift. The slow pace they'd taken on the way to her quarters had been forgotten as she nearly jogged towards the lift.
"Deck twelve," she snapped at the lift. Beverly's hand right hand tapped the wall in frustration and her left hovered near her stomach, almost as if she was afraid to touch it. "I need to check something." She wasn't going to finish her thought and he didn't want to pressure her. Beverly was biting her lip and the skin around her eyes was too tight. Her fingers drummed against the metal of the lift, tapping out an anxious pattern.
"What happened when I arrived back on the Enterprise?" she asked with manufactured calm. "When you met me in the shuttle bay?"
Wishing he could alleviate her unease, Jean-Luc answered as completely as he could, "I asked you about the conference. You mentioned running into Lt. Commander Darren. You told me Doctor McCoy had submitted a paper on the effects of transporters on the natural course of aging of Starfleet officers. You were thrilled you got to see him speak. We talked about Worf's party. You gave me a hard time about the cake--"
Her wan smile cut through the ice coating her distress for a moment. "You remembered it."
"Wouldn't want to face your wrath," he teased, hoping for another smile. Beverly's expression still seemed grim, but her frozen eyes were starting to melt. The panic she'd been trying to hide from him was fading. "What is it?"
"You didn't kiss me," she smiled weakly as she led the way to sickbay.
"No," Jean-Luc didn't understand but he kept his smile. "Was I supposed to?"
Another weak smile, this time a tad brighter, was the reward for his tenacity. "Jean-Luc," she pointed to her office as they entered sickbay. "I remember landing the shuttle, opening the hatch and walking directly into your arms. I teased you for not having better things to do than meet my shuttle and you kissed me to shut me up."
Raising his eyebrows, he watched as she ran a medical tricorder over herself. The anxiety in her eyes faded, leaving them blue again as relief flooded her face.
"Beverly," he straightened his uniform jacket and watched her smile as she scanned him. "I can assure you that kissing you is something I would vividly remember."
"I don't think you kissed me," she shook her head and studied the tricorder. "Jean-Luc Picard did, just not the one standing with me." She tucked a stray lock of hair behind ear and smiled, suddenly as pleased with herself as she had been distraught a moment ago.
"You just--"
"My physical condition doesn't match the Enterprise's records," Beverly reported, suddenly confident. "You and I chose chocolate and Worf's cake was red velvet. My uniform doesn't fit, my quarters are wrong-- either everything on the ship is wrong, or somehow I'm in the wrong place." She leaned against the desk for a moment, hanging on to the edge with white knuckles. Beverly dropped her eyes before lifting her gaze to his. Her grim smile almost made him anxious. "Jean-Luc, there's something I need to tell you."
He crossed his arms and chose the light hearted response. "You think Worf wanted chocolate and I picked the wrong cake?"
Beverly smirked for a moment and moved to stand beside him. Her expression had softened to something nearly apologetic. "I'm pregnant," she announced, showing him the tricorder.
If she had handed it to him fully, instead of keeping it in her hand, Jean-Luc would have dropped it. It took him a moment to put together what he was seeing. The indicators on the bottom seemed normal, but the tricorder showed a fuzzy blue image of a human fetus.
"Nineteen weeks," she explained gently. Beverly's gaze remained on his face. Something bright shone in her eyes. "In direct contradiction of my medical records."
"Is it-" he didn't know what to say. Jean-Luc was surprised words made it out of his mouth at all. His throat felt numb and the tricorder might as well have been written in ancient Andorian.
"She-" Beverly supplied quickly, "is very healthy."
"I don't understand," he stammered as he reached for the tricorder's image with fingers that threatened to tremble. Pulling back his hand, he straightened his uniform. Jean-Luc swallowed hard. A thought taunted him before it erupted like ice into his stomach. "I'm the father?"
Nodding slowly, she confirmed his suspicions with a heavy sigh, "I don't know if I should congratulate you or apologize."
"Beverly--" Normally he wouldn't have allowed himself the contact, but Jean-Luc couldn't stop himself and reached for her hand.
Grabbing it tightly, she maintained her hold and he reminded himself to return her trust. "I don't belong here," she shook her head, running her free hand anxiously through her hair. That hand moved to her sleeve and tugged it. "I don't know what's going on but this isn't my Enterprise."
"Perhaps you should sit," he suggested. Trying to bring his thoughts out of warp speed and back into normal space, Jean-Luc studied her.
"I'm fine-"
"Beverly, please-"
"Jean-Luc!" Her tone sharpened, her eyes narrowed and her hand flew up to stop him. "I'm fine," she assured him, dropping her hold on his hand in exasperation. "I just need to get out of this universe and go home. Get Deanna down here if you want, she can tell you I'm not crazy."
"I didn't--"
"Of course not," she snapped, biting her lip. Still staring at her dumbfounded, Jean-Luc watched her force a weak smile. She pressed her hand into her forehead. "I'm sorry."
From all the years he'd known her, he was accustomed to both her temper and her sharp, nearly frigid, emotional control. He'd observed her struggle with both on several occasions, but this was different. Beverly wasn't herself and he was starting to realize the drain being pregnant had on her. Her lips were set too tightly. The place where she kept her fingers pressed on her forehead implied a headache. He watched her for a moment, then felt her cool hand return to his wrist.
Letting her fingers find their way into his own, he nodded to her. "It's all right," he promised. "I have no idea what's happening, but if you're right, you need to go back to your own universe and I certainly need my own Chief Medical Officer back."
Tilting his head up towards the ceiling's comm system instead of his badge, the captain asked the computer, "Picard to Data."
"Data here, sir," the android responded quickly. Jean-Luc could still hear the voices of the party in the background.
"I am sorry to pull you away from the party," he began. "I'm afraid I have a bit of a mystery and could use your assistance in Sickbay."
"Of course, sir, on my way," Data said over the link.
Data's unquestioning efficiency was calming to both of them and she sat down in the chair behind her desk. Trying to mull the situation over in his mind, he replicated a cup of tea for both of them and took the seat across from her. "May I ask you a personal question?"
She nodded absently, shifting position in her chair twice before she settled and noticed the cup of tea. "About us?" Beverly asked coolly.
He recognized her disconnection. She was bringing the wall down to protect herself, and he couldn't help wondering how disconcerted his counterpart must also be. Jean-Luc was concerned for his friend, the absent Beverly Crusher who belonged in his timeline. The idea that some version of himself was missing both lover and unborn child made him uneasy. That sensation was an odd combination of sympathy, responsibility for her safe return and, though he hated admitting it, jealousy.
Turning his attention back to Beverly, he smiled shyly. Talking about her life might ease some of her tension as well as assuage his curiosity. "How long have we been-" he paused, searching for the right words.
"-More than good friends?" she finished for him. Beverly took a sip of her tea and then stared at the liquid. "The baby wasn't planned," she admitted, "we were both surprised, in different ways. I didn't realize how much I wanted a child and the timing of when it happened was hardest for you. It was a bit of a shock for everyone-" smiling thinly, she ran her finger around the rim of her cup. "Wesley was a little concerned," she continued, "Nana just keeps giving us a hard time. Now that you've told your brother, Robert has started giving you parenting advice--" she stopped, suddenly apologetic.
He grinned sheepishly and her smile returned. "I don't know how I'd take that." They continued to talk, discussing the differences in their timelines. Jean-Luc's curiosity was raised when she related a far different account of Kesprytt. He had been wondering if he'd gotten to experience the trials of pregnancy through their implants and was almost relieved to discover Will and Deanna had gone instead.
"You didn't really get off easy," she promised, looking up as Data entered sickbay. "I'm terrible company when I'm ill."
"I have heard that about doctors," Jean-Luc agreed dryly as he stood. He could feel the sting of her gaze on his back and was glad he'd interpreted Beverly correctly. Even if she wasn't his Beverly, he still knew her.
Data nodded once to both of them. "Captain," he began, "how may I be of assistance?"
"We have an odd situation," Jean-Luc replied, stopping when Beverly cut him off.
"Data," she waved the android over to her, took his hand and placed it on the slight swell of her abdomen. The android's gold eyes widened. Had he been human, Jean-Luc would have called it as shock.
"Fascinating," Data murmured as he stared down at his hand. "Doctor, you did not appear to be pregnant when you left for Starbase 338."
"I was," Beverly insisted as she released his hand. "Your me, the other me, whoever is supposed to be here, wasn't." She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest as Data released her and reached for the medical tricorder on the desk. "What could make me shift into this universe while not shifting my uniform?"
Jean-Luc glanced at her chest, feeling slightly guilty as he did, and then caught the look of mild frustration crossing her face.
"This one is tight," she complained with a shrug. "I had mine altered," she replied as if he had asked. "I hate maternity uniforms."
Memory brought back an old conversation he'd had with Jack, back when uniforms were solid red and the heavy jackets were modified to accommodate pregnant officers. Beverly had hated her maternity uniform with a passion and Jack had related her litany of complaints.
"Are they better than the last ones?" he asked, trying to recall what maternity uniforms looked like.
"The current maternity uniforms are like wearing a dress uniform all the time," Beverly grumbled, narrowing her eyes.
"Captain, doctor," Data interjected. "There is a quantum flux in Doctor Crusher's cellular RNA, it is also present in the developing fetus."
Beverly set her lips tightly and nodded. He could sense her relief but watched as she continued fidgeting with her sleeve. "What does that mean?"
"I do not know," Data reported. "I will have to analyze the readings. Captain, it will take some time."
"Thank you," Jean-Luc responded. Turning to Beverly, he tried to force his heightened sense of responsibility back down into the pit of his stomach. His Beverly didn't take well to being hovered over, though it was occasionally necessary to ensure she was conscious of her own best interests.
"I hope a morning briefing will be acceptable?" he studied her face while he making the request. "It's late, and you've traveled a long way today."
"Starbase 338 isn't that far," she insisted, but she nodded. Rising to meet him, Beverly gave him a view of the swell of her belly in profile.
Jean-Luc forced himself not to stare, but he couldn't believe he'd missed it on the way to her quarters. The Beverly who had left for the conference, his Beverly, was definitely gone, replaced by a doppelganger who was carrying his child. In the last fifteen minutes, he'd become a father. That new sense of responsibility reverberated through him, changing his universe.
He had avoided serious emotional entanglements most of his life. He'd left Jenice, let Miranda carry on with her life and Phillipa had damaged his trust and his heart more seriously than he had let himself admit at the time. For many years, he'd wondered if his infatuation with Beverly was just another way to remain apart. Wanting a woman he would never allow himself to pursue kept him safe.
Once they saw each other daily again, Jean-Luc had realized that Beverly was more than a ghost or a method of self-isolation. As they grew closer, he'd felt again how deeply he loved her. His feelings for her became as much of a companion as she was. Beverly and his love for her filled his days and gave him a precious escape from the captaincy. Their meals and moments together were highlights of his life. It was as close to a marriage as he expected to have and he was mostly content.
Kesprytt had taunted him with more than that. Offering him a glimpse into her soul, the links between them had showed him how much she cared for him. Daring hope for something else, even for the brief period of time before she'd reminded him she wasn't ready, he'd found new ideas invading his predictable life. He'd never told her that he had come to know that he wanted children, that having them with her was an ideal circumstance.
Putting his own thoughts aside, Jean-Luc knew his Beverly needed him to keep a cool head and bring her home. The other version of him needed his child back. As his mind considered what that life would be like, Jean-Luc realized he hadn't noticed a wedding band and wondered if she wore one. It was possible they weren't married. A child might have been an easier risk than having a husband again. The more he dwelled on the idea, the more it made sense that she would be comfortable having a baby but not being his wife.
Sneaking a clandestine look at her, Jean-Luc let himself feel the thrill of knowing part of him was within her. If the other him thought as he did, he understood. Marriage was pleasant, but not a priority. If she were his concern, Beverly and the baby would be what mattered to him.
Jean-Luc's thoughts carried him in silence through the turbolift ride to deck nine. When the doors opened, neither of them moved immediately and he felt her tense as he stepped out. The tension coiled into her neck and made the movement of her fingers more urgent. When they passed his door, he stopped and stared at it before he looked at her. Beverly stopped at his side and gave him a curious look.
"I know I'm not--" he stopped.
"Not my Jean-Luc," she finished for him. "Don't feel as if you--"
He waved her silent and tried again, "perhaps you'd like to come in for a cup of tea?"
Beverly's expression moved through several variations of exhaustion, confusion and dark humor. Her eyes remained the same, bright and astonishingly vulnerable. Taking comfort from the way her gaze never left his, Jean-Luc smiled. "I assume you still drink tea in your universe."
"And the two of you are close, you and Lwaxana?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. Beverly's empty tea cup sat in front of her and he leaned forward to fill it. Unlike his friend, who typically sat across from him, this version of Beverly sat on the couch next to him. She touched his arm frequently as she told her stories of her universe. The level of contact appeared perfectly normal to her, she even solicited more by leaving his hands on her lap. Jean-Luc realized how ordinary and comfortable being that tactile could be.
"I know how it sounds," Beverly answered, extending her hand to accept the teacup. She waited for him to add cream before she sat back, free hand on her stomach. "I suppose in a way we needed each other. For all her apparent dislike of primitive vocal communication, she loves to gossip and tell me about her garden."
He watched her blow across the surface of her tea. "I didn't know her interests included plants that weren't part of Betazoid fashion," he wondered, remembering a certain vine dress that had caused a scene at his counselor's betrothal dinner.
Beverly smiled softly, setting down her tea before she leaned her head on her hand. Her hair fell down along the top of the sofa and he tried to decide if it was longer.
"We have a few things in common," she continued, eyes away from him. "We've raised children alone, lost our husbands to Starfleet, fell in love again--" She abruptly turned back to him, shaking her head and reaching for his arm apologetically. "I'm sorry."
"It's all right," Jean-Luc promised her as a reflex. Feeling suddenly exposed, he covered her hand with his and squeezed. Reminding himself that she hadn't had the conversation where she informed him she wasn't ready to explore their feelings and it was certainly not how this Beverly felt, he searched for words. "In my universe, you and I shared an intense experience on Kesprytt, one that revealed our feelings for each other."
"And I decided it wasn't worth the risk?"
He felt her take both of his hands into hers and stared down at them before he met her eyes. "You thought we should be afraid," he answered softly. "I haven't pursued you. We're still friends, we share breakfast nearly every day."
Beverly's cool finger pressed his lips, silencing him. "But that's not what you want, is it?"
She studied him, peering into his eyes as if she could find the one thing that was different. "I know her fairly well, if she's anything like me, she's terrified. Jean-Luc, you could make her happy in a way she's afraid to even contemplate. Everything in her life is incredible right now. Her career, Wesley, you; everything is better than she could hope it to be. The last time she felt this secure about life, it self-destructed around her ears and she wound up hiding from everything in private practice in North America."
"Walker brought you back," he remembered, suddenly aware of how close her lips were to his.
"Walker brought me back into Starfleet," she corrected, lowering her hand from his lips to his chin. "I didn't feel 'back' until I was on the Enterprise."
"I didn't know that--"
Beverly chuckled dryly, leaned forward as if she meant to kiss him, then simply patted his cheek. "I'm afraid there might always be a few things you don't know about me," she teased.
Again, he wondered if she was going to kiss him, she was only centimeters away. This Beverly, just like his own, seemed to be able to look right through him. With his eyes on her face, the moment was eerily similar to the last time he'd almost kissed her. This time he felt different. She wasn't going to leave and he wasn't sure how he would handle that.
Unfolding herself with a sigh, she dragged herself to her feet, rested both of her hands on her back and looked at him. "Mind if I use your toilet?"
"My quarters are your quarters," he joked and was rewarded with a weak smile.
"Well, they are supposed to be," she said, keeping the smile. She dug her hands into her back, rubbing the sore muscles there. "Don't switch universes on me."
In her absence, his mind drifted as he stared out at the stars. There was something about her that tantalized him. Beverly usually captivated the romantic part of his mind, lately to the point of distraction, and this version of her held him even more spellbound. She was softer, as if some of her emotional control had been filed away. He wondered if he could blame hormones or if their relationship had allowed her to relax. No matter the reason, he was fascinated.
His interest left the metallic taste of guilt in his mouth. He'd dealt with that before, burying his feelings for years while she'd been married to Jack. This was different; now the other man was himself. Some version of him that had the great privilege of sharing his life and his bed with her. Imagining her legs entangled with his, Jean-Luc felt a stab of irrational jealousy. Her cool hand against the back of his neck shocked him out of his thoughts.
"Are you trying to decide what you'll do with me if you can't send me home?" she asked, settling into the sofa next to him.
Turning back from the stars outside, he startled when he looked at Beverly. She'd raided his closet. She'd removed her uniform and she was wearing his clothes. She'd chosen some of his favorites: the short-sleeved green top was something he wore riding, his beige robe he wore nearly every night and the loose grey pajama pants had been with him for years.
Beverly's curious expression faded abruptly and she realized what she'd doneinto a small smile. "I raided your closet." She glanced down at the shirt covering her chest and then up at him. "That uniform's tight, and my stomach itched. I didn't think you'd mind. "
"No," he waved quickly, then took a beat to get used to the idea. "I shouldmight have offered. It simply didn't occur to me. I'm afraid it's been awhile since someone else wore my clothing."
She pulled the robe tighter around her chest and sighed, "I started borrowing your things last week. I've been too busy to get down to the ship's stores and expand my wardrobe to fit my own expansion." Beverly smirked and he smiled with her.
"How do I feel about that?"
Sitting down on the couch next to him, Beverly rested her head on his shoulder. He paused, uncomfortable for a moment. Slowly, he reached for her arm. She reached up and took his hand.
"You spoil me," she replied as she brought his hand to her abdomen. "You're much more domestic than you'd like it to be generally known. I think you'll be an incredible father. Right here," she said, arranging his fingers. "You might not be able to feel anything, but that's the spot."
He felt her ribs under his thumb, but his fingers rested on the firmness of her stomach. Trying to wrap his mind around the idea that their child slept within her, Jean-Luc watched her long fingers fidget with his.
"You've been trying to catch her moving for the last two weeks," she continued. "Data can feel her but so far, he's the only one."
"What would it-she-" he corrected foolishly, wanting to ask both questions at once. Struggling with himself for a moment, he decided to finished the first, "-feel like if she moved?"
"Like something nudging against your hand," she paused for a moment, biting her lip. "I have to admit, when I do prenatal exams I always think of kittens trying to bat your hand under a blanket. That's not really scientific, is it?"
He lifted his eyes from their hands, first amused by the flush of her cheeks, then touched by the serenity she projected. "Occasionally, you're entitled to a poetic thought," Jean-Luc said.
"You've never thought about having a child, have you?" she wondered, shifting to a more comfortable position on the sofa.
"Having never been presented with the opportunity, I haven't given it serious thought," he answered, unable to sense where she was leading the conversation. "Knowing in some fashion it's a reality," he shook his head, "I find I like the idea more than I expected."
Beverly sighed and he watched the frustration and exhaustion rise into her face. "If I'm trapped here-"
"Beverly," he interrupted, "we have every intention of getting you home."
"If you can't?" she asked softly, and he heard her hope falter. "You and I aren't in a relationship. If I stay, you will become a father, Jean-Luc--"
He grabbed both of her hands, stilling her fidgeting as he tried to help her relax.
"I love you," she said, cupping his chin before she leaned closer to kiss his cheek. "I can't let that go. I can't ask you to be my Jean-Luc. You can't step into his shoes just because you share his DNA. At the same time, I can't--"
Without knowing what else to do, he hugged her, holding her shoulders against his chest as he listened to her breathing lose its rhythm.
"I can't do this alone," she whispered, letting a tear slip down her left cheek. "I can't live on this ship, see you every day and know you and I aren't--.. Not while I'm carrying your child. I don't think I have the strength to be alone again."
"You won't be alone," he promised as fervently as he could. "I know what you went through. Our histories may not be synchronized, but you and I are fundamentally the same. We are very good, even intimate, friends."
Her finger covered his lips, cool against his skin. Instead of speaking, Beverly kissed him. His Beverly had kissed his cheek a few weeks ago, after Kesprytt. The passion of that kiss had haunted him, it came to him in his dreams, but eventually he learned to integrate the feelings he knew they shared into his life. Beverly was his closest friend and he loved her. Knowing she feared her feelings for him took nothing from that.
This Beverly, the woman whose lips were pressed against his, loved him back. She loved him without reservation and she was carrying their child. Her fingers reached for his collar, tugging at his uniform. Pulling the zipper down his back, she sighed. The nervous energy with which she'd been consumed faded into a sigh of contentment. When his jacket was loose, she brought his hands to the hem of her borrowed shirt.
"Is this right?" he asked her, suddenly stopping her from kissing his neck, "I won't deny my attraction to you, but I can't help feeling that I'm taking something that is not mine to take," he continued.
"Hypothetically," she sighed, tracing her fingers across his shoulder. "I am your Beverly and the woman you knew is never going to return. I'll spend the rest of my life here because there's no way to send me home. It's just as possible that I go home without any memory, or that you remember and I don't."
"We have no way of knowing anything about the larger situation," Beverly left the sofa and started walking towards the bed. "Right now, I'm here with you and that's the only thing we have any control over. I can leave, we could stop, or we could act on our feelings. Everything else in the damn universe is out of our control except you and I."
She kissed him again, finding her way deeper into his mouth. She stood up, eyes on him as she studied his expression. Beverly left him breathless as she stood and headed for his bedroom.
Watching her walk away, he saw Beverly pulled her shirt over her head. Her bra stood out in sharp contrast, black against the pale skin of her back. She tugged his pajama pants down to her knees, then off, leaving them by the floor.
"Get in here," she ordered. As he left the sofa, he paused in the doorway to the bedroom. Beverly sat on the side of the bed, running her fingers through her hair.
"This is my side," she explained with a soft smile. "You always end up on the right." She waved him over, extending a hand. Her bare legs were folded on the bed. Taking her hand, he let her pull him over to the bed. Beverly caught the hem of his undershirt, pulling it up to expose his stomach. He assisted her, freeing his shoulders.
Beverly's hands wrapped around his lower back, pulling him closer. "Just take off your clothes," she teased sardonically. "Trust me, I'm a doctor."
"Beverly," he leaned down, feeling her fingers trail across his skin as she brought her hands up to the back of his neck. She pulled his head down and kissed him again, this time dragging him down to the bed. Feeling out of place in his own bedroom, Jean-Luc realized his body was much more comfortable than his mind. Her lips were soft against his neck and his blood was heating up.
She squirmed on the bed beneath him, undoing the clasp of her bra and slipping further up towards the pillows. "Take it off," she ordered him, placing his hand on her chest. Her breasts were fuller than he expected. As he lifted the black fabric off of Beverly's skin, he stopped, staring down reverently at the contrast between the pale roundness of her breasts and the roughness of his skin.
Pulling her bra aside, Jean-Luc cupped her breast with his hand. The rounded, soft flesh filled his palm and he was intimately aware that he'd never been with a pregnant woman. Beverly sighed, nodding to him as she gripped his arm. "It's all right," she promised, breathing more quickly.
"Jean-Luc," Beverly's leg nudged his side, pulling him closer, "just stop thinking about it." Her fingers danced across the back of his shoulders, stopping on his neck. When she lifted her head to kiss him, he surrendered and met her halfway. Taking the initiative, he felt her sigh into his mouth. What was familiar and beloved to her were entirely new sensations for him.
Her touch was confidant and practiced as she reached for his trousers and slid them down off his hips. Releasing her to remove them and his underwear, Jean-Luc allowed his anxiety to drift away. She coyly waved him back to the bed, draping a leg over his as he rested on his elbow.
"It's a little more comfortable with me on top," she explained, hand on his chest. Shifting her leg, she grinned as his nearly erect penis brushed her thigh. "Is that all right?"
Reaching for her belly, he kept his eyes on her. The smooth, taut skin reminded him how bizarre the whole situation was. When she kissed the tip of his nose, he chuckled. "I shall defer to your judgment," he stuttered, feeling her hand close playfully around the base of his penis. Nimble fingers ran along the vein, easing him harder.
"Captain," she purred, making him wince. Beverly rolled him on his back and mounted his thighs. Rocking back and forth slightly, she leaned down and kissed him. Her hair tickled his neck and he shivered as she trailed down his chest. His thumb ran over her nipple and her immediate gasp startled him.
She stopped licking his stomach and raised an eyebrow. "They're sensitive." Jean-Luc watched her bite her lip as he repeated the motion and ran his other hand up to cup her other breast. To his surprise, she moaned, rolling her head back. She palmed the head of his penis before guiding it in with a deep sigh. Gasping once, she smiled through her brief shudder of penetration.
His own lost breath had to be replaced, leaving him unbalanced when she began to move. Beverly rocking over him and sliding her chest against his was intoxicating. Jean-Luc fought to stay lucid, to be in control of his body, but want had him. Years of pent-up longing, denial and fear evaporated away; all that mattered was her.
Physically, she knew how they fit and she knew exactly where to rest her hands on his chest. His body surrendered to her, rising up to meet her hips faster than the rhythm she'd chosen. Finding her clitoris with his fingers, he circled it. The distraction was enough to stop the movement of her hips. Breathing hard into his neck, she moaned, suddenly as desperate as he was. Keeping one hand there, Jean-Luc used the other to squeeze her butt.
Her shocked inhale nearly turned the kiss into a bruised lip. Beverly's throaty giggle made him press harder, rolling her clitoris between two fingers. Kissing her forehead as it passed his mouth, he tasted her hair. She started to pant, whimpering as she started to orgasm. Her right hand grabbed his free one and pushed it into the bed. Taking that as permission, he tilted his pelvis, deepening the angle and losing himself in her.
Catching his lip between hers, she kissed him as her orgasm took her. Feeling the rolling stiffness pass through her, he allowed himself a moment of belonging. She was all around him, full of the richness of life. She consumed him, pulled him in, and captured him. She met his eyes, finding his soul and welcoming it home.
Releasing into her stung, like something within him had been lanced and freed. The exquisite rush that followed made him chuckle and she kissed his cheek. Sighing contentedly, Beverly shifted and lay across his chest. One of her hands rested in the hollow of his neck.
Her contented murmur made him smile. Other emotions vied for his attention, but calm defeated them all. Beverly slipped from the bed, kissing him as she disappeared into the lavatory. His mind drifted, letting him fantasize about a universe where she did sleep in bed with him each night.
After straightening the sheets, he was rearranging the pillows when she returned. Beverly shook her head, smirking a little as she crawled in. "You are very much you," she observed, propping herself up on an elbow.
Lying down on his back, he stared up at the starscape and then over at her. "He must love you very deeply," he said seriously.
She snuggled against him, curling up so most of her body was in direct contact with his naked skin. "Give her a reason not to be afraid," Beverly answered. "There's very little she wants more in the universe than to be with you."
He nodded slowly. Beverly's chest slowed and he was relieved that she would sleep. A thought struck him and his dry chuckle brought her out of her doze.
"Jean-Luc?"
Startled, he forgot what to do with his hands and reminded himself to let them rest on her shoulders and back. "I can't help wondering what it would be like if my Beverly was pregnant. I have to admit I'm fond of the idea."
Beverly sighed, nodding slowly. "Just so you're aware, I- we- Beverlys that is, get a little sick."
"Really?" he deadpanned. "In my universe, when you had Wesley you loved the first trimester."
Her knee nudged his thigh and she lifted her head to glare at him. "Jean-Luc, there is no universe where that would be the case."
"That bad?"
She dropped back to his chest. "You have no idea."
Staring up at the ceiling and listening to her relate a few of the experiences that the other him had helped her with, Jean-Luc realized he was lucky on several counts. Sleepiness dulled her descriptive power. He lacked the necessary anatomy to carry a child. Finally, though she insisted he was lucky to have missed her middle of the night bouts of nausea, he almost wished he had been there.
2nd Variation
One moment he was listening to Data explain the situation to the displaced Beverly, and the next moment she was staring at him as if his beard was green. Will sighed and lifted his hand to stop Data.
"Are you all right?"
Beverly dropped her head into her hands, and the confusion on her face when she lifted her head insisted she'd been displaced again.
"Take a deep breath," Deanna suggested at her side. "The dizziness passed quickly last time."
Glancing around the table, Beverly's expression was suddenly stiff, "Where's the captain?"
"I'm here," Will offered from the head of the table. As the doctor turned to look at him, he watched her face freeze over. She'd been expecting someone else. Deanna felt the stab of loss in Beverly and through his link to his wife, he shared her sympathy.
"Our universe might be defined by losing Picard," she reminded him in his thoughts. Her sympathy felt warm in his mind. "She loves him very much."
"Captain Picard?" Beverly asked softly.
"We couldn't bring him back from the Borg," Deanna answered, touching the other woman's shoulder.
"He died bravely in battle," Worf announced with a nod, and Beverly recognized the Klingon was trying to bolster her. Her lips couldn't smile, but a little color returned to her face.
"We believe we will be able to return you to your reality," Data piped up and Geordi agreed with him.
"In fact, captain," Geordi flicked his gaze up to Will. "The sooner we get back down to the shuttle bay, the sooner we'll be able to send the doctor back home."
"He was just here," Beverly sighed, and Will was surprised by the fragility in her voice. "I was looking right at him. Geordi was explaining something about quantum displacement, I got dizzy--" She stopped herself and met his eyes dead on. "Will-Captain-" she corrected, shell-shocked, "I need to go to sickbay."
"Sickbay?" Will asked. "Are you all right?" There was something odd about her. Her hair was similar, he might have noticed the other differences if they were standing next to each other. He couldn't shake the idea he was missing something. but Beverly was fundamentally Beverly.
"Imzadi," Deanna answered his thoughts in his mind for him, "she's pregnant."
Will knew better than to immediately stare at Beverly's abdomen. Missing his former captain hit him in a rush,rush; he winced and remembered how hard it had been for his Beverly. Losing Deanna to some alternate reality while she had been carrying one of their children was terrifying, even in the hypothetical. He watched Beverly and Deanna stand and waited for them by the door.
"In my timeline," Beverly said, coolly getting to her point, "Captain Picard and I are involved and this is our child. I need to make sure she's all right."
Deanna smiled at her warmly and nodded towards Will. "We have three children," she offered gently as she let Will lead the way.
"You delivered the first two," he teased, grinning at Deanna. "Worf got the last one."
"We hit a cosmic string fragment," Deanna explained, nudging her husband's arm. "I went into labor in Ten Forward and Jonathan was born rather quickly into waiting Klingon hands."
"Worf wouldn't talk about it for weeks," Will continued when he noticed a little more color in Beverly's face. "When he finally talked about it, he just said that he had 'greater respect for my mate.'"
"Which is Klingon for the fact that he's still terrified of me," Deanna added, still smiling.
Beverly's amusement led to a real smile. "And the other two?"
"Girls," Will groaned melodramatically, "before Jon, I was hopelessly outnumbered. Beth is six, Iyana is four and Jon will be two soon. You, our you," he corrected, concentrating on keeping a smile, "teaches them tap dance and ballet, in secret of course. You spoil them rotten."
Telling stories of the girls as they walked kept the mood light. Once in sickbay, Beverly headed straight for her office, wincing as she reached over her desk to activate her computer. Will guessed the setup must be the same because she was immediately comfortable once in her domain.
Her left hand pressed into her back and he felt Deanna nudge his thoughts. "Was your baby all right the last time you shifted?" he asked, watching Beverly run the probe down her stomach.
"She seemed to be fine," she replied, thoroughly distracted by the readout. The tricorder beeped and the tension in her face eased. Beverly ran the test again and sighed in relief.
"I'm glad," Deanna offered, smiling warmly. She took the chair across from Beverly's and Will sat down next to her. Their visiting doctor took a moment to take the cue and sit. Knowing the baby was all right made her relax, but without that tension Picard's absence weighed on her.
"So the Enterprise is Picard's ship?" Will asked gently, hoping that talking about home would keep her in a good mood. Years spent cheering up his Beverly had made it a habit.
"You're still first officer," she said, pulling up her legs beneath her.
Deanna chuckled, "Think you're still afraid of the big chair?"
He took her hand and squeezed it. In front of his Beverly he would have kissed it, but this version was in a more fragile state and he had to be more sensitive. "I'm probably sticking around for a certain ship's counselor."
Her touch against his mind reminded him how deeply he loved her.
"Did you have any problems conceiving?" Beverly asked suddenly, surprising them both out of their thoughts.
Recovering faster, Deanna shook her head. Will shared her confusion, feeling it seep into him like a damp fog.
"No," she offered quickly. "Will and I married right after Wyatt Miller left with the Tarellian plague ship we met on Haven. Elizabeth was born the next year without complications. Iyana and Jon were both easy, relatively pleasant pregnancies."
"The wedding was all set up," Will shrugged playfully as he embellished the story. "Watching Deanna get ready to marry another man, I realized how much I loved her."
"Beverly?" Deanna prompted when the other woman was silent too long.
"In my universe, there was an energy being, one you named Ian, who borrowed your genetics in order to be born into corporeal form. Your body was exposed to massive amounts of radiation--"
Will and Deanna shared a look, shock bouncing between them before Will answered. "You had a child in a similar manner. Almost six years ago, we were on a routine mission and you woke up one morning, suddenly eight weeks pregnant."
"The whole experience was very difficult for you, but Captain Picard was very supportive," Deanna recalled. "He stepped in as a father figure and you raised a 'son,' Dalen, together."
"He lived a drastically shortened lifespan, becoming adult in a few days, but when he left he thanked you both for letting him experience humanity. Captain Picard always spoke fondly of the experience, and you kept a picture of Dalen," Will finished. He pointed to a framed shot of a smiling young man with bright red hair, grinning next to Wesley on her back counter.
"The whole unique experience brought you a lot closer," he finished, softening his voice. "You and Captain Picard had always been good friends. Having a child together, even in a drastically shortened amount of time, had a big impact. Deanna and I thought it was why the two of you started dating."
"What happened in your timeline?" Deanna urged gently her as they watched Beverly lift the photo.
Watching the wrong Beverly touch the faces of her sons, Will's heart went out to her. If somehow they hadn't forced her to adjust to enough knowing Picard was dead in this timeline, now she had a son she'd never known.
Beverly blinked quickly; he and Deanna both saw the tears but neither of them mentioned them. "You, Deanna, carried a son to term, that you named Ian. He died soon after he was born because his presence was endangering the ship. I was at Starfleet Medical at the time--"
Will smiled playfully, hoping his memory would cheer her up. "In our timeline, you never went. You always joke that Captain Picard begged you not to go, but you say the truth is you hated paperwork too much to take the position."
Smiling thinly at Will's story, Beverly looked at the computer. "I need to see my medical records," she explained. "In my timeline, the child Deanna carried made her sterile. If it caused the same condition in me here, I might be able to better understand how I can help her."
Will recognized the earnest look she only got when she was desperately serious. "As long as you think you wouldn't mind."
3rd Variation
"What's going on?" Beverly pushed her chair back from the table, obviously confused. Jack blinked. One moment earlier she'd been one of the alternates, the Beverly Crusher who had lived as a widow for fifteen odd years and had slapped him when she'd seen him. This version seemed just as confused, but less angry. Jack reached for her hand to comfort her and she immediately went white.
Cursing himself for his stupidity, he inclined his head towards Tasha Yar, his operations officer. "Tell her," he ordered as he wondered why his ship had become the transit hub of reality skipping Beverlys.
Beverly shook her head, going whiter still towards grey. "You're--"
"Dammit," he hissed and turned his gaze to Commander Troi, his first officer, who was sitting next to him at the table in the Observation Lounge. Deanna disliked being emotionally involved with anything, but even Captain Jack Crusher could tell Beverly's fear had an effect on the ex-counselor.
"You're safe," Deanna promised her, "you're all right. You're on the Enterprise. You've had a jump, a quantum phase shift--"
Beverly cut her off. "You're--"
"Dead," Jack finished for her. "Yeah, I know," he trailed off and wondered what the hell he was supposed to say. "Look, Bev- doctor, I know it's a lot to take in but in this reality, I'm alive and I'm the captain of the Enterprise."
Beverly looked like she was about to be sick. Jack's mind brought up memories of long nights in the bathroom, trying to keep her entertained. When she stood, backing away from him and Tasha, his conscious mind put together what his subconscious already had: she was pregnant. It was obvious in the swell of her belly and the size of her breasts.
Deanna reached for her arm, calming her slightly. "Beverly, I know you're frightened and this is quite a shock, but this is real in this universe. Jack and Tasha are as real as you and I."
Even though Deanna had given up the position of counselor six years ago, she still had the soft, calming authority of a psychologist in her voice.
"Tasha, Geordi," he turned to his staff, relieved they were all so reliable that even in strange crises such as his wife jumping timelines, he could count on them. "Get down to engineering and figure out how to get every Beverly Crusher back to her own universe." He turned to Deanna and nodded to her. "Number One, you have the bridge."
When they were alone in his ready room, Jack stood in front of the wrong Beverly's chair and sighed as he leaned against the table. "Let me guess," he began, "Stargazer accident? I died a hero, much lamented and adorned with medals for my bravery?"
She couldn't laugh, but Beverly did offer a weak smile in return. Taking it as a good sign, he reached out a hand and waited patiently for her to take it. "Come on, come up to the ready room and I'll give you some tea."
Captain Jack Crusher stood in front of his replicator and stared at his wife. She wasn't his wife, of course. He had to keep reminding himself of that. No matter how confusing it was, she was Beverly Crusher. Just not his Beverly. He replicated her a cup of dukari leaf tea and handed it to her.
She took a sip and immediately looked confused.
"You don't like it?" he asked sheepishly as he sat next to her on the sofa in his ready room.
Beverly tilted her head and studied the liquid. "I've never had it before."
Thinking for a moment, Jack snapped his fingers. "Our eighth anniversary, we went solar sailing on Pacifica. Wesley fell in love with flying fish. You and I watched the stars come out every night. We were pregnant with Lucy when we got back."
He pointed at the tea. "I'd just been given the assignment as the Starfleet commander of the Andorian ship yards. You were going to have some time to work on your research. Wesley was going to get to ski and we'd finally get to have a baby together properly, instead of over subspace. You spent most of your pregnancy addicted to dukari leaf tea and elryeon root stew."
Her smile was gentle but he recognized the dull pain in her eyes. She'd enjoyed the story, but it was simply a fantasy that she would never be a part of. "In my timeline, you died when Wesley was five. We never had an eighth anniversary."
Jack reached for her cheek and stopped himself abruptly. She might not welcome the contact with a dead man but it was hard not to comfort her. Beverly took another sip of her tea and sighed, pressing her hand into her forehead. He knew that behavior indicated a stress headache and wished she'd let him do something to help.
"I hope you don't think I'm being rude," he stared down at her stomach. "Who's the father?" When she didn't reply quickly, he tried to soften the question. "Are you happy where you came from? Did you remarry?"
She stared at him as if her eyes had frozen and it was impossible to look away. Beverly answered and her voice caught in her throat and she mumbled, "Jean-Luc."
"Jean-Luc," he repeated, whistling as he shook his head. "In this timeline, Jean-Luc died," he replied, "saving all our asses when the Stargazer's nacelle exploded." He set his coffee aside and watched her face. He and his Beverly still mourned their friend with an annual bottle of wine. "We were both devastated. The tea comes into the story when you convinced me to stop moping around and take the trip to Pacifica. You and Walker both thought that it would be good for us to spend some time together as a family."
She took a deep breath and shook her head slowly. "In my timeline, we never--"
"It's all right," he promised her, reaching for her shoulder. Squeezing the muscle, Jack smiled. She even smelled like his Beverly. "It's a strange to the nth degree situation. You're allowed some conflicting emotions."
As he tried to reassure her, he hoped desperately his wife was all right. Was she having a similar conversation with a version of Jean-Luc? Maybe even a version of Jean-Luc who was about to be a father, he reminded himself. He'd never be able to congratulate his long dead friend, but he was happy for him. Knowing Jean-Luc was with Beverly was an odd twist of fate, but Jack approved of the relationship and the baby. They were the two people he loved most, other than Wesley, in the universe. He wanted them to be happy, even if he wasn't around to see it.
Thinking of himself dead made him shiver. Jack knew how close he'd come on a few occasions and being confronted with it now almost made him feel guilty. His feelings weren't his primary responsibility. Beverly looked like hell, and whether or not she was his wife didn't matter. His first responsibility was to get the gallows look off her face.
"Look, you got a little swapped around. Stuck in the wrong universe. It's okay. I'm sure they're working just as hard as we are to get you switched back."
She nodded, acknowledging that he was speaking without taking his words to heart. Jack sighed, wrapped an arm around her shoulder and then pulled her close to hug her. Beverly was rigid at first, and she held out longer than he expected before she finally gave in and hugged him back.
"I've missed you," she whispered.
"I'm pretty special," he teased her, tightening his arms in response. "I'm the kind of guy that leaves an impression." When they drew apart, he kept his arm on her shoulders, reminding himself to treat her more like a sister than his wife.
"Beverly, honey, bunny, cupcake, sweet darling doctor--" the ridiculous nicknames made her laugh, just like they used to in medical school. Finally relieved, he leaned back into his sofa and grinned at her expectantly. "Tell me about you and Jean-Luc."
She stopped laughing but kept her smile. "He's going to be a good father," she began shyly. "We didn't plan the baby--"
"Some things never change," he quipped, rolling his eyes. "I doubt there's a you out there that's planned a baby." Jack grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "How's he in bed?"
Pausing only for a moment, Beverly's expression turned wicked. "Very adaptive. Sweet, inventive, and he does this thing with-"
He threw up his hand, "I get it. I get it." Jack eyed her appraisingly, searching for the unfamiliar in the woman he knew so well. "Your hair's longer," he decided. "You smile less, but that makes sense under the circumstances. What else can I ask… How's Wesley? Dealing with his step-dad well?"
"Wesley's in his third year at the Academy," she answered with a proud smile that he recognized immediately. "He's always been so-"
"-dedicated to his studies," Jack finished with her. "Seriously, there were times I thought I'd have to drag him onto the holodeck for fun, kicking and screaming as I pried him away from his books."
"Jean-Luc and I aren't married," she volunteered, when they finished sharing a chuckle at Wesley's expense. The ice returned to her eyes and Jack started to wonder how much guilt she was carrying around with her.
"Why the hell not?"
Beverly startled, jerking back from him as she stared. She opened her mouth, closed it, paused and then found her voice. "I'm sorry?"
"How long have I been dead?" he reminded her with mock impatience. "Thirteen years? Fourteen? You obviously-" he raised his eyebrows at her, "-obviously, love him very much. You like marriage, and considering your first husband, that's no surprise. Jean-Luc's not me, but he's not the kind of guy you want to let get away. He loves you and I'm willing to bet he's thought about marrying you a few times. Considering he's probably too polite to bring it up, you're going to have to take the initiative. He's a big romantic softie who'll melt when you tell him you'd like to start calling him your husband."
He pretended to wrack his brain for a moment while she stared at him, openmouthed in surprise. "Get an old book and scrawl inside the cover 'Marry me Johnny, you magnificent bastard!"
When she didn't laugh, he groaned melodramatically as if she'd wounded him. "What's wrong?"
"Is that really what he wants?" she lowered her head, closing her eyes for a moment and suddenly, irrationally, Jack felt guilty for abandoning her to deal with her universe all by herself. "You don't know the whole story. He never wanted a baby, I did."
"Little ones are a hell of a lot of fun," Jack reminded her. "Wesley and Lucy, they're the best things that have ever happened to us. Even when there was fingerpaint on my dress uniform and science projects in our closet, they were amazing little things. Jean-Luc will get that."
He touched her chin, then her nose, waiting for her to smile. "I'll bet however he felt in the beginning, he loves it now, doesn't he?"
"He does," Beverly answered, still fighting tears. "I guess it's not just that."
Jack wondered if he should just push all the right buttons, cause a meltdown for her own good; sometimes she needed it. He scratched the back of his head, trying to decide what else could hold her back. "He's developed an aversion to marriage? You've started bringing home dead things from the morgue and he can't stand being in your quarters?"
Her laughter bordered on a sob and he smiled as gently as possible. "Come on, you can tell me. I'm dead."
Widening slowly, Beverly's blue eyes became far too bright before the tears started winning. "He brought you back to me," she whispered. "He walked with me, stayed with me while I stared at your body and convinced myself you really were gone." She didn't wipe her eyes and he knew she was going to be crying for a while.
Jack finished the thought for her. "Nana's getting old. You're still too busy to have a lot of friends and if you lost him, especially if he were your husband, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself." He gave in to his impulse and hugged her tight, holding her close as if she were his Beverly.
"Sweetheart," he rested his chin on her head, feeling her shoulders tremble. "Beverly," he corrected, "we die. We're in Starfleet, both-- all of us, and we're in a little more danger of dying than the rest of the universe. We know that. We chose that. Yes, it's a terrible gamble and sometimes we lose big, but we're making the universe better. We're keeping the peace, we're finding new places, meeting alien species that change our fundamental existence."
Lifting her head, Jack carefully dried her cheeks and held her face close. "The fact that you could lose each other any moment is exactly why you should get married. Stop wasting time, take what is precious and share it with each other. Let him spoil you and call you silly French things. Rant at him and fight with him when you've had a bad day. Tell him exactly how you're going to kill him when you go into labor in complete and gory detail. Be happy."
To his surprise, she kissed him. His Beverly cried very rarely, and the few teary kisses he could remember were all distinctly different from the longing in this one. She loved him, she had the kind of heart that didn't move on, but this kiss was entirely about Jean-Luc.
He kissed her forehead, smiling at her rakishly, then leaned back. "If I could, I'd give you away."
"Really?"
"I'd punch him first for being a stubborn idiot and not marrying you," he explained. "Then I'd give you away. I want you to be happy. If I'm dead and being with him makes you happy, just give in to it. Be happy." Jack chucked morbidly. "Listen to the dead man. Life is short."
Wiping her eyes again, she nodded and her smile in return suggested he'd gotten through. "I really have missed you."
"Of course you did," he quipped. His communicator chirped and before he tapped it, Jack finished, "I'm pretty damn unique." Still holding her hand, he answered, "Crusher here."
"Captain," Deanna's cool voice responded. "We've reached the coordinates of the energy rift. We were about to begin the scan when we-" she paused, unusual for his icy first officer. "I think you'd better see this, sir."
"On my way," he tapped the link closed and touched Beverly's chin. "Come on. We have to get you back to your own universe so you can make someone an honest Frenchman." Helping her to her feet, he grinned at her wickedly. "Too bad you won't get to see the kids. Lucy looks a lot like Nana but she already has your temper. Luckily, she's as charming as I am so she's a double threat."
He guided her out onto the bridge, hand on her lower back, and watched as Deanna vacated the center seat.
"We seem to have been displaced," she reported as she indicated the viewscreen. "All sensors report that we're still where we were, but so are they--"
Jack turned quickly, discovering 'they' were hundreds of thousands of Enterprises. The Enterprise-D had been duplicated so many times that it looked like the viewer had been fractured and was malfunctioning. Whistling slowly, he sank his seat. "How many hails?"
Tasha turned in her seat at the front left console. "So far, we've received 285,000. The one ship native to this universe seems to be taking the lead. They've sent out a quantum signature that we need to match to the right Beverly Crusher."
"Geordi?" he titled his head back towards the engineering console. "Are we a winner?"
"I was just finishing the comparison, sir," Geordi replied. Jack could almost hear the smile on his face when he finished. "Yes, captain, it looks like we are."
"Hail them back Lieutenant," Jack ordered Worf as he leaned over to Beverly in the chair on his left. "Ready to go home?"
The longing in the way her hand rested on her abdomen nearly answered for her. "Yes, thank you."
"On screen," Worf's deep voice rumbled.
The view popped on and there he was. The most poignant ghost from Jack's past stood on a mirror image of Jack's own bridge. The uniforms were a little different; Jean-Luc didn't have the decorative silver braid Jack did, and his jacket looked less comfortable. Both of them stood, almost in unison and advanced towards each other.
Jean-Luc's mouth opened, then closed and Jack realized he'd had the benefit of knowing who he was going to be talking to while the other man had been completely surprised.
"Jack?" Jean-Luc whispered slowly.
"Long time no see," he quipped dryly, giving the other man a moment to regain his composure. "Captain, it seems I have someone who belongs on your ship."
The Beverly on Jean-Luc's bridge seemed equally shocked to see him and he felt for her. Other than Beverly and Worf, Jean-Luc's bridge crew was completely different. Will Riker stood at Picard's side; it stung to look at him and Jack realized his Deanna was on her feet next to him.
Data, whom Jack had promoted and shipped off to the Demeter as first officer years ago, still sat at ops. Deanna was still on the Enterprise but her face was softer and she still wore blue instead of the red of command. Everyone other than Picard and Beverly was staring at Tasha.
Jack put a comforting hand on her shoulder. He fully understood what it felt like to be the walking dead.
"Are you all right?" Jean-Luc's question was solely for Beverly and Jack turned to see her nod as she stood.
"I'm fine, captain," she replied subtly. Jack almost wanted to elbow her, but he let it slide when Jean-Luc's expression calmed and he returned to business.
"Our La Forge and Data have concluded that sending Doctor Crusher back through the rift in our shuttlecraft Curie should seal the damage among universes," Jean-Luc explained. He finally tore his eyes off Jack and Beverly and looked at Tasha.
Jack recognized Jean-Luc's guilt on his face and wondered if he looked as haunted when he looked at their Will Riker. His first officer hadn't even had a beard when he died. His Will Riker was a younger brother, and losing him had been brutally difficult. Having Beverly to support him, and the responsibility of keeping Deanna from the brink of self-loathing and resignation had gotten Jack through the loss.
In sharp contrast, the version of Will Riker who stood behind Picard looked confidant and ready for the captain's chair.
"I'll walk her down to the shuttle bay myself," he promised. Taking a good hard look at his old friend, Jack realized that even if he wasn't going to remember, he was glad to see him. "Good to see you."
"Likewise," Jean-Luc replied softly. "Life on this side of the universe just hasn't been the same without you," he finished.
Jack recognized the pain in his voice. It was good that this Jean-Luc was getting married and moving on with his life. If he kept Beverly happy, more the better for both of them. "Take care of her, and don't go naming the kid after me or anything foolish. Jack Picard just doesn't have the right ring to it.
Picard's bridge crew didn't know him well enough to see the agony just beneath the surface of their captain's face.
Jack watched Beverly meet the other man's eyes. "It's been a long three days," she told him and her voice teetered on the edge of breaking.
"It'll be a relief to have you back," Jean-Luc said.
Any doubt Jack had that they were meant for each other burned away. Jean-Luc could have told her he'd wipe out planets for her and it would have carried just as much feeling. Jack's Beverly belonged with him. The woman next to him, the one with so much pain her eyes, needed to go home.
"I'll see that it happens. Take care of yourself," he smirked. "You're all out of hair."
"And you've gone grey," Jean-Luc prodded in response.
"I didn't say I needed my wife back now, did I?" Jack winked at his friend and started up towards the turbolift. "Number One, I don't want to lose that Enterprise before Beverly gets through. Make sure we don't get them confused with another ship."
He waited until La Forge was a few meters away before he let Beverly cross to the lift. "You stay back Geordi, don't want to have another switch now that they've finally found her," he said.
"I'll catch the next one," Geordi answered with a sheepish smile. "Have a good trip, doctor."
The turbolift hummed and carried the two of them deep into the Enterprise. The relief on her face soothed him and he was glad he could be part of sending her home where she belonged.
"Be careful now," Jack warned in a mock serious tone as they watched the shuttle move towards them on autopilot. "If this little one's anything like Lucy, you'll go into labor in the worst time imaginable and you'll end up giving poor Jean-Luc a black eye."
"I don't think you're that alike," she retorted, "but I'll keep it in mind."
Across the shuttle bay, the forcefield hummed as the tractor beam guided the shuttle in. Up in the control booth, La Forge nodded and called down, "This is it, captain. The shuttle's quantum signature and Doctor Crusher's match."
Jack walked her down to the shuttle, taking her hand before she went inside. "I love you," he offered up with a shrug. "I'm never going to see you again, and I probably won't even remember this. I want you to be happy, and I'll come back and haunt you if you don't make it happen."
She reached for his cheek, then grabbed the back of his head and kissed him, hard. Wondering what his wife was going to say, he kissed her back, slightly surprised that the way she moved her tongue against his had changed. Wondering wickedly in the back of his mind what else Jean-Luc had taught her, Jack rubbed her belly and pointed towards the shuttle.
"Tell Jean-Luc I miss him," he offered with a grin. "No one here falls for my bluffs as well as he did."
Beverly nodded and stared at him for a long time before she pulled her eyes away. "Goodbye Jack."
Segno
Steering the shuttlecraft into the rift, Beverly focused entirely on getting home safely. Thinking about Jack wouldn't help, nor would worrying about the other versions of her lost in the ether. It sounded simple enough, fly straight into the rift, following the exact course that had brought her here.
She was almost there when the shuttle rocked hard.
"Computer?" Beverly called out, knowing the impact didn't have anything to do with the rift. She hadn't felt anything when she'd passed through it last time.
"The shuttle is under attack," the computer reported. "Phaser fire. Suggest evasive maneuvers."
"That's not an option," she answered the computer.
"We've taken care of the problem," Deanna's voice promised calmly over the commlink Beverly had forgotten was open. In the corner of the shuttle's front view port, she watched one of the Enterprises explode in a ball of white fire. "One of the ships had an objection to returning home. You should be fine from here."
"Thank you," she responded as her heart slowed down in her chest. "Shuttle out." Beverly wondered how close her Deanna was to becoming this cold. She didn't want to ask why that ship was so desperate not to go back. She stared straight ahead and drove the shuttle right into the rift.
When she entered the rift, the shuttle was suddenly full of her. Versions of herself sitting in all possible positions, moving through each other as if all of them were just slightly out of phase. Her stomach twisted independently of the baby and she forced down her nerves. The baby flutter kicked a moment later and some versions of herself shared the sensation. It was dizzying how many there were; some of the other ones were pregnant. One much more so, a few in different trimesters and one who was consciously aware that she had just become pregnant.
Their thoughts were just different enough to still be individualized, but united enough that the sensation was vaguely pleasant instead of being overwhelming. Everything about her was amplified into a collective being that wanted to go home to her family, in whatever shape they took.
For a moment she was united, merged into a single copy of herself. That collective consciousness knew all parts of Beverly Crusher that had ever been. Her memories of her lovers merged with her parents, her grandparents, and her children to form the united memory of all those she had ever loved. All the choices she had ever made, and could ever make in the variations of quantum time joined together forming one unanimous moment of being where she was more herself than she ever had been or ever could be again.
Main Theme - Dal segno al fine
In the shuttle, her hands moved across the controls, setting the autopilot. Her feet rested against the deck. Her left calf itched and her hips were sore. Her lower back had ached dully from the conference and Beverly sighed, letting the tension out of her chest. She was alone.
After that realization, her hands began to tremble, exhausted from her journey. She could always keep them steady during a surgery but flying a shuttle didn't require that degree of control. Separated from herself, back in her own universe, Beverly pulled her knees up to her chest, dropped her head to them and began to cry.
She was done long before she reached the Enterprise. When she landed, Beverly's eyes were dry, she'd found the strength to smile and she was excited by what lay ahead of her. Jean-Luc would be there. He'd promised to be there, and even in the wrong reality, he'd been there in the shuttle bay. This time was no different.
The door to the shuttle slowly lowered itself to the deck and he began to smile before she even started towards him. Beverly didn't know what he'd been expecting, but her half run down the ramp straight into his arms was definitely a surprise. Jean-Luc hugged her back, fiercely returning the emotions she thrust on him.
"Long trip?" he asked with gentle eyes.
Beverly shook her head, feeling tears stinging her eyes again and wishing she could do anything to will them away. "Let's just say I got a little sidetracked," she said.
Sensing she needed to leave the shuttle bay, he lifted her bag and offered her his arm. "Tell me over dinner."
3rd Variation - Coda
Beverly Crusher ran down the ramp into the shuttle bay of the Enterprise and nearly tackled her husband. Jack chuckled and returned the kiss with equal ardor.
"I guess someone missed me," he teased, wrapping his arms around her lower back.
"Would you believe I ran into a rift, went universe hopping and managed to land in three different universes where you weren't there?" she nuzzled his neck and let him keep his arms around her.
"Three universes without me?" he tilted his head thoughtfully and then looked extremely sympathetic. "Were they all terribly boring?"
Kissing his cheek, she pursed her lips and thought about it as they walked towards the doors. "Getting to see Jean-Luc again was bittersweet. Knowing I'm with him in several universes is a little strange."
"You and Johnny, eh?" he scratched his head. "I could see that. I guess you'd get lonely without me and need someone else to torture with your theatrical aspirations." Jack reached over and tickled her as the turbolift sealed them in.
Beverly jumped, then elbowed him in the side. "It was good to see him," she continued, rolling her eyes at her husband. "Will Riker's alive too, in one universe he was even with Deanna."
Jack sobered up, holding her close with an arm around her waist until the lift opened. "Don't tell her," he suggested. "She's been having a rough few weeks since her mother was here. Finding out she had a sister she has lost on top of everything else," he broke off, shaking his head. "You know how she is."
Beverly paused outside of their quarters, trying to recall where their daughter would be. "Is Lucy still in the art room?"
Grinning wickedly, Jack grabbed her bag and led her into their quarters. "She'll be there for at least an hour, if not more. It's Tuesday, sculpture night, remember?"
Leaving her bag by the door, she crossed to him and started to kiss him. Pushing him back onto the sofa, she returned his smile. "I love Tuesdays."
2nd Variation - Coda
Deanna and her son Jonathan were waiting for her when she returned. The little toddler ran up to Beverly and hugged her knees. Deanna pretended to look chagrined, but beamed at her son.
"How was your trip?" she asked.
Beverly caught her eye and realized the Betazoid was sensing her renewed state of mind.
"Eventful," she replied evasively, reaching down to scoop up little Jonathan Riker. "I ran into some kind of quantum filament. A rift between this universe and all the others. I started shifting quantum realities. Bouncing from one version of my life to the next. First I was on a ship where you'd married Worf instead of Will and the two of you had three children. Then I was on a different Enterprise and my old friend Walker Keel was in command. He'd taken command when Jean-Luc was killed by the Borg."
The last sentence stung a little less than it usually did; losing Jean-Luc was a wound that Beverly never expected to heal.
Deanna's hand touched her shoulder. "What else happened?"
"In the last universe," Beverly kissed Jonathan's little brown head and smiled weakly at the memory. "Jean-Luc was still alive."
"Beverly--"
"He and I-" she paused, bouncing Jonathan as she searched for the words, "-we're together there. We live together in his quarters. That me," she stopped again, biting her lip before she forced it out. "That version of me is five months pregnant."
Her smile was fragile, but she fought to keep it. "They're so happy Deanna," she murmured over the little boy in her arms. "He's in love with her- me- and they're together. If things had been different, if we'd found another way to stop the Borg..."
Deanna reached out and squeezed her shoulder, reminding her as she had nearly every day for the last four years that what Beverly had done was right.
"I couldn't tell him at first," Beverly continued, still rocking back and forth where she stood in the shuttle bay. "I couldn't look him in the eye and tell him that in my reality I had to kill him to stop him from destroying all of the Federation."
"But you did," Deanna plucked from her mind.
"I cried," she shook her head, nearly in tears again. "It was absolutely surreal. Seeing him again, listening to him tell me that he understood why I had to do what I did, I broke down."
The Betazoid's dark eyes studied her, searching for the truth. "Did it give you closure?"
"A little," Beverly admitted. "He kissed me. Promised me that any version of him would have understood, would have still loved me right until the moment of his death." She made faces at the boy in her arms and then sighed heavily when he giggled and hugged her tighter.
"I seduced him," she finished. "I couldn't stop myself, maybe I didn't even try. I started kissing him and even though he was worried about her, the other me, the pregnant one--"
Deanna smiled gently and ran her hand down Beverly's arm. "You shared a deep connection with Jean-Luc Picard in this reality, it's only logical that it could be as deep in other variations of your life. You have no reason to feel guilty. I'm sure the other you will understand."
"It's not just--"
Eyes tightening with suspicion, Deanna stared at her friend. "What else could you have done?"
Beverly kissed Jonathan's forehead again, deeply grateful for that wonderful little boy. "Jean-Luc let me take home a gift."
"A gift?" Deanna repeated, her face softening as she picked up the emotional thread Beverly couldn't keep buried. "What could you possibly…"
"Deanna," Beverly handed Jonathan over and lifted up her suitcase. Watching Deanna's expectant face, she finally let herself smile, "I'm pregnant."
1st Variation - Coda
When he didn't meet her shuttle, as he had the last time, Beverly was almost disappointed. She shouldn't have expected Jean-Luc to be waiting for her, ready to kiss her as passionately as he had in the other timeline. She did miss the greeting. She'd seen so many different things, variations on her universe where everything was drastically different. Just knowing that there were so many variations, she could have come home contented, not needing to change anything. Then, almost to prove her wrong she'd shifted into a reality where Jean-Luc was everything to her.
Beverly touched her lips, feeling guilty as she walked into the turbolift. She couldn't let herself kiss him on Kesprytt. She'd turned him down in his quarters but somehow in a foreign universe, she had let go. How she was going to walk up to him and admit that she'd gone to bed with a version of him, she hadn't the slightest idea. As it was, she almost dreaded facing him at all.
"Face it," she muttered to herself. "You're in the universe where you're an idiot." The lift carried her up to the bridge. At any moment, Beverly could have redirected it, chosen a path that would lead her to sickbay or her quarters. She didn't have to file the report. She could call it a dream and go back to her life.
What was she going back to? Slightly awkward, though fulfilling breakfasts, a standing date for any social event on the ship and a very good friend whom she undoubtedly hurt each time she walked away from one of the near misses and kept their relationship stagnant. Standing outside the ready room, Beverly reminded herself that in this, and every other quantum reality, she had made the choices that led her where she was. She just couldn't shake the idea that she'd made a mistake.
Maybe the error had been on Kesprytt, when she'd been so surprised by the depth of his feelings that she couldn't voice her own. They'd been there, but neither of them had mentioned what she felt. Jean-Luc had been brave enough to empty his heart, and while her feelings had been obvious, they'd never discussed them. They smiled at each other and continued to lie.
Beverly shook her head as she walked into the ready room. Perhaps she'd made not one error, but a set of them leading back to the moment when she'd decided not to explore what they felt. She couldn't. She wasn't able to make herself that vulnerable again, not after Jack. She was the coward, the failure, the one version of herself who wasn't able to get over the past. She slept alone in her own universe while her bed was shared in the others she'd visited.
"Welcome back, Doctor," Jean-Luc said, smiling up at her from his desk as he worked. "I trust the conference was as good as you expected?"
She'd nearly forgotten she'd even attended the conference. Still standing in front of his desk, Beverly nodded absently. "It was an admirable presentation of scholarly work and the other speeches weren't too dry. Doctors McCoy and Wade were definitely the highlights."
He paused for a moment, then set his work completely aside. He must have heard the underlying despondence in her voice and she realized she'd given herself away. "Beverly?"
"I saw my other lives," Beverly answered him.
Jean-Luc's eyebrows rose expectantly. "Something at the conference?"
"I passed through a rift," she explained, looking past him out the long window behind his desk. "I'll write a formal report after I get my head straight."
"You shifted realities?" Jean-Luc wondered. He'd had a similar experience. Q had been involved but he thought he understood what she saying.
"I spent time in several different universes. Some were only a little different, minor variations but the last one I visited--" Beverly dropped her eyes, staring at the dark glass surface of his desk and the work he'd abandoned. "I wasn't prepared."
"What happened?"
"I found something I'm missing," she ventured, swallowing and looking back up. "I saw what my life would be like if I made the choice to stop being alone." Beverly couldn't finish the conversation. There was too much to risk, too many chances to say the wrong thing. Unable to look at him, she started to pace.
"One moment I was in an early staff meeting, the next I was lying in bed next to you," she said. Staring into his patient hazel eyes, Beverly wondered why she'd spent so much time keeping him deliberately just out of reach. "I started to think the whole thing was a dream, but then you woke up and began your day by telling me you loved me. You kissed me, climbed out of bed and headed for the shower and I lay there, staring up at the ceiling until it finally occurred to me that that I was a fool."
She stopped pacing in front of the window and turned to find he'd stood to meet her. Jean-Luc's expression was calm, as patient as ever, but she thought she could see the glimmer of hope in his eyes. Kissing him was much easier than explaining anything further.
"Jean-Luc," she caught her breath, reminding herself that the rewards exceeded her fears. "I--"
He held her cheek in his hand, then smiled as if she'd shone a light inside his soul. "I'm glad you made your way home."
Main Theme - Fine
Beverly let Jean-Luc clear the plates away as she continued her story. "On that Enterprise, Jack was the captain, you'd died long ago. Deanna was the first officer and Jack had picked up your habit and called her Number One."
Jean-Luc winced as he set the remains of a ratatouille and leftover bread into the replicator. "That must have been disconcerting," he said.
"Tasha was alive; the ops officer. Data was on a different ship entirely," she explained. "Jack dragged me into his ready room, gave me some kind of Andorian tea I'd never had before-"
"Was it good?" he interrupted, filling her cup with hot peppermint tea and taking his seat near her again.
"It was," she answered with a smile as she tried to remember the name. "I'll look for it for breakfast."
"I'm sorry," Jean-Luc smiled back, "please."
"We talked," she explained, holding her tea cup and staring over it at him. "In that timeline, Jack and I have two children, the younger one, a girl is named Lucy for you--"
His smile broadened and he reached across the table to touch her arm. Even though they hadn't been her decisions, she was oddly pleased he approved.
"It must have been difficult for you."
"No more difficult than I imagine it was for you, constantly getting new versions of me with completely dissimilar sets of memories," she smirked at him. "You don't get any real sympathy because you don't remember."
"Fair enough," Jean-Luc agreed, reaching out to her, taking her tea and getting ready to migrate to the sofa. "Though it seems rather suspect that only you remember anything about what happened."
"Jean-Luc--"
He stopped, setting both cups down. "What is it?"
Beverly bit her lip, she'd been trying to find the right way to say it since she'd returned and everything she could think of felt inadequate. She'd considered what she was about to do and the prospect was mildly daunting.
He knelt down in front of her, putting his hands on her knees. "Something else from Jack's ship?"
"Something Jack said," she lowered her hands to his, and wound her fingers into them. "I know we haven't talked about it, but I think we should."
Jean-Luc was quick to soothe her, "Beverly, I have no intention of trying to replace Jack, in your memories or your heart."
Putting a finger on his lips to prevent further protest, she rolled her eyes towards the ceiling for courage and then stared down at him. Serene and content with the knowledge that she was finally home, Beverly squeezed his hands.
"Jean-Luc, marry me."
"Beverly-" he started to rise and she kept the finger over his lips.
"I love you," she continued. "You're my touchstone. When I'm afraid, when I'm exhausted, when I'm angry as hell, whenever I'm outside of myself, you not only give me something to come back to, you give me a reason to fight my way back." She squeezed his hands tightly. "I know I don't have a ring, or even a book, and this isn't at all romantic."
Jean-Luc nodded once, acknowledging what she'd said. He stood, studying her face, then kissed her. "I didn't want to ask," he answered.
"Before we were together, I had convinced myself it was enough to be near you," he continued. "The idea of having a wife was something I'd considered but didn't have the time to pursue. You filled that void for me and I spent much time trying to convince myself that that you and I would be very good friends, we'd have our work and that would be enough."
"And it wasn't?"
Jean-Luc's dry chuckle startled her a little. "It very nearly was. Then circumstances," his eyes dropped to her belly and he smiled, "changed. Living with you and watching our child grow within you brought greater joy to my life than I imagined myself capable of experiencing." Returning to his knees, he took her hands again and looked up directly into her eyes. "It would be my very great honor to marry you."
Bending down to kiss him, she sighed when he met her halfway. He kept his forehead against hers and her love for him warmed her chest.
"Soon," she insisted and he rocked back, curious. "The next time we make port. Deep Space Nine, next week."
He released her hands and held on to her knees. Jean-Luc smiled softly and said, "I can assure you, barring any quantum displacements beyond my control, that I'm not going anywhere if you want to take more time-"
"I want you," she said. "Dress uniforms, sickbay gown, Betazoid style-"
Jean-Luc raised his eyebrows.
"-maybe some clothes," she finished. "I don't care how it happens. I just don't want to wait. There's a lot of traffic through there, if I contact Nana and Wesley--"
He nodded and his face softened; she hoped he understood her haste. "I'll contact my brother and his wife, but Robert doesn't like leaving Labarre to examine oak barrels in old Germany, let alone to travel all the way to Bajor."
Beverly moved to kiss his cheek, needing the contact. Jean-Luc turned into her lips, deepening the kiss. "I'm glad you came home," he whispered, forehead against hers.
"For a moment, in the shuttle I felt like I was every one of me," Beverly shook her head, pulling back to think. "I could feel everything each one of me was thinking. All our fears, all our hopes, everything I've ever done in every permutation that could have occurred. In other universes, I want to marry you because I love you. I may marry you thousands of times across quantum realities but this one is special because our outcome is unique to you and me. Marrying you here, in our universe, is a singular opportunity."
Stroking his chin, she leaned in to kiss him again. "I can't let that get away."