Beverly followed him out of the transport area and the sunlight was refreshing, pushing away her fatigue. She would need to rest soon, but the fresh air (the air was sweet, somehow, and she inhaled deeply) and the brisk walking revived her a bit. Once they broke free of the crowds and made it to a promenade, Picard slowed his pace and she slowed to match, her flat shoes making a soft sound on the paved ground. He seemed to know where they were going, and then he reached over and took her bag without a word, swinging it over his shoulder. At her glance of surprise, he just smiled warmly at her and took her hand in his, looking forward again, still smiling.

They were holding hands, and she didn't think that they had ever done that before. They had linked hands before, had used hands to express comfort, or never-spoken care for each other, but walking down a sunny street, strolling, holding hands? The feel of his palm was so familiar, strong, firm, and it felt right, but this was new. Tender.

She blinked suddenly, telling herself that the unexpected sting of tears was from the bright sunlight, and not from the conflicted swell of emotion cresting within. Why is he doing this? The paved path curved into a bustling promenade, and she followed his gentle guidance as they emerged into a citywalk - there were shops and restaurants, and vendors everywhere-

Oh my god, it was a pleasure planet. Well, not quite a pleasure planet like Orion (and goodness, did she remember Orion, even though it had been years and years ago - the pheremones alone were highly distracting the entire time she was planetside, and the looks from the women made her actually reconsider her preference for men, but it had to have been the atmosphere...that's what she told herself, anyway) but this was a vacation planet, designed for pairs (or triads, or groups - whatever worked) to spend quiet time together, and to grow...closer. As they walked down the main throughfaire, they passed a portal that - oh, my.

Oh my. There were couples (and a triad) inside, all humanoid, trying out...something. Laughing and enjoying themselves. She was no prude, but over the years she and Jean-Luc very carefully never discussed anything (anything) that approximated a relationship, intimate or otherwise, including with other people. She had even toned down the level of teasing that she used to subject him to early on in their tour on the Enterprise. At first she had told herself that it was because it embarrassed him, but over the previous year she admitted that her teasing was too much of a reflection of what she was wishing for herself. And now, she was turning away from the open doors, blushing.

Such a switch. She swallowed as, still silent, Jean-Luc slid his thumb across the back of her hand.

The check-in process was efficient, and they were directed up towards an upper floor. The pathways on the upper floors were outside, and the glitter of the city laid out across the valley below. The door to the apartment opened to their presence, and it was spotless inside - all white, gold and cream, with a kitchen area, couches, chairs, and panels that presumably led into a bedroom of some sort. Jean-Luc placed their bags by the door, then went towards the panels and opened them -

It was plush, and lush, and inviting, and she just wanted to throw herself onto that bed, because the sight of the pillows and the extra blankets made her want to curl up (when did I last sleep?) and block out the memories of the previous hours. But she didn't. Because he had turned around and was looking at her oddly. Tense, suddenly, and yet he was framed by the gigantic window that revealed a gorgeous mountain vista and two crescent moons in the sky. But he was standing there, in uniform, which was so strange for such a non-formal environment. He cleared his throat, shifted, and she saw that he looked exhausted, and yet the lines of his face reminded her of the holoimages of youthful Evangeline, their daughter from another universe. She blinked slowly, trying to clear her mind, refusing to acknowledge the confusing overlay of memories.

"I'll sleep on the couch, Beverly-"

"You'll do no such thing!" It slipped out of her mouth, shocking them both, but she crossed her arms, thankful for the distraction away from the memory of a daughter who didn't actually belong to her. "We're here to play a part," (and she watched an impercepible twitch slide across his face) "and we're adults - we can certainly share a bed. Which side would you prefer?" And she vividly remembered waking up in the other Jean-Luc's bed, surrounded by his scent, opening her eyes to see him sitting in the corner, watching her with that intimate, half-lidded stare. The suppressed desire slid through her, making her lose her train of thought.

As she watched him blink, then nod once, she wondered whether she should tell him that she knew which side of the bed he preferred.

"Jean-Luc, have you eaten recently?" He blinked again, and she knew he had not, and that she had given him a welcome distraction. "We should eat. You should change, and we should eat." And she pivoted and left the bedroom, tense, hungry, attempting to press it all down and failing miserably.

She just might be in love with him.

Their casual stroll was in the approaching dusk, surrounded by pairs and trios and groups contentedly walking into and out of portals. Restaurants, tables out in the open, a multitude of species everywhere. And Beverly by his side. She was stunning - somehow she had changed clothing while he was in the bedroom, and now she was wearing some peach silk dress and flat shoes and her hair was different - unbound, a bit less tamed as though she had raked her fingers through it. Merde, she was lovely, surveying the walkway, glancing into the restaurants and shops. She had been silent since they had left the lovely apartment.

Looking anywhere but at him.

His resolve hardened. This was probably his last chance. He had no idea what she was thinking - so few words exchanged since they had been reunited in the tiny conference room.

And he was a selfish, selfish man. When they had been on the Enterprise he had been patiently waiting, waiting for her to change her mind (the Kes Prytt conversation still stung, but he completely understood, and they had such an odd Starfleet relationship already, seeing as he had been her senior officer, but she could - and would - outrank him in terms of medical emergency or if he were under duress and she deemed him unfit to act as captain, so it had been an odd equilibrium...and then she had left to take the Pasteur.

...Merde. The year without her on board had been awful. He loved her. Loved her. It was not a distant, hands-off kind of chivalrous love. He loved her. Wanted to possess her. Wanted to be with her. Logistics be damned - they needed to be together.

"Let's stop here?" She paused in front of an ivy covered doorway, still not meeting his eyes but peering inside the portal. He stepped beside her, and inside were small tables, and candles, and servers with bottles of wine, and enticing aromas came from inside. She continued, still not looking at him. "We can talk about...about the mission, and-"

She stopped, probably because he had placed his hand gently against the small of her back.

"Ah, and we should talk." She was quieter as she finished her sentence.

"I agree."