February 15

Beverly lay on her side in the dark stillness of their bedroom, her head resting on Jean-Luc's arm as she spooned against him, their hands still entwined as they had been for most of the last few hours.

She had needed his hand, needed it to serve as her anchor while everything that had made their lives what they were changed - and he had seemed equally loathe to release hers from the safety of his grasp.

Oh, there had been times when she had released him - when she was stripping his shirt from his body, or helping him free himself from his trousers, just as he had release her when he was helping to take her clothes off - or to caress her body as she had caressed his - but time and again they had come back to holding hands...

She laughed under her breath, not wanting to disturb him from his current efforts at covering every inch of the back of her neck with his soft, warm kisses.

"Hmm?" he murmured softly, having waited far too many years to want to interrupt this task so soon.

"Nothing... Just... I was thinking we've been holding hands all this time... well, almost all this time... Except when I..."

He stopped in mid-nibble, pulling away slightly.

Suddenly concerned that she might have offended him, Beverly turned over to face him, ready to apologize, only to realize he was blushing.

"Jean-Luc?"

"Umm... yes... I, err... Uh, well... You see..."

She smiled at him, uncertain whether she loved him more when he was the masterful linguist addressing a conference of hundreds - or when he was utterly tongue-tied at this most intimate and private of moments - but certain that she did love him. She moved closer, kissing him softly, then laid her head back on his arm.

"For a moment there, I thought maybe you didn't like that," she said softly. "Not every man likes having a woman pleasure him with her mouth - or so I'm told."

His eyes widened at the idea. "I'm certain that there is someone out there who feels that way - but none that I've ever met."

"Then...? Why did you stop me?" she asked. "I thought you were enjoying it."

"I was," he replied, his voice rough at the memory of her exquisite touch, her lips, her mouth, her tongue, the feel of his hands running through her hair as she knelt before him... Mon Dieu, he thought, even now, only a few minutes after we last made love, and the mere thought of her is making me hard again.

"Then...? Too much even for your legendary self-control?" she teased softly.

He shook his head. "No... Almost," he admitted an instant later. "We've waited almost thirty years for this, Beverly. I didn't want our first time to be over in thirty seconds," he added. "And it wouldn't have been - until I looked down, and saw you there, before me, on your knees, your mouth on me... Every fantasy I have ever had about you, about us, suddenly came rushing over me - and I knew if I didn't stop you then, I wasn't going to be able to stop myself."

She smiled in the dark room. "I wouldn't have minded, Jean-Luc."

"But I would have," he protested fervently. "I wanted out first time together to be... together. I wanted to be in you, looking at you, watching your face when I... when we..."

She pressed a finger to his lips, then replaced it with hers, kissing him softly before pulling away. "So... you've fantasized about me?"

"About us," he corrected. "About how we would make love. About the things I would do to you, about how you would sound and move when I pleasured you, about what you would do to please me..."

"And...?"

"And?" he answered, perplexed by the question.

"Do I live up to the fantasy?"

He stared at her for a moment, wondering how she could ever doubt herself in that matter - then realized that once again she was teasing him. "So far," he replied a moment later, deciding that he, too could play at that game.

"So far?" she laughed.

"I've loved you for more than thirty years, Beverly," he answered, instantly apologetic, unsure if she was offended by his attempt at humor - and unwilling to risk hurting her even in the least. "There have been a lot of fantasies in all that time," he admitted, a little embarrassed.

"You've had other lovers," she reminded him.

"But they weren't you."

"And my lovers weren't you," she replied. "When I realized that - that I preferred a fantasy of you to someone real - I knew that whatever I might have felt for them, I was, in a way, only using them. I didn't want that - for them or for myself," she admitted.

He moved closer, kissing her gently as if to ease the years of loneliness from her heart - then smiled. "So... You've had fantasies about me, then?" he asked.

"Of course," she replied. "What did you think I did after all those dinners we had together? Read medical texts?"

"No, but it would have been somewhat presumptuous for me to assume I was in your thoughts - even if you were in mine... but I could hope," he added.

"Well, you were most certainly in them - although you in the flesh was a bit of an unexpected surprise," she added, remembering her first site of him naked and aroused. "A lovely and delightful surprise, but a surprise nonetheless. You do live up to your reputation," she added, her hand sliding between their bodies to caress his growing hardness.

He gave her a second puzzled look. "You've seen me without my clothes before, Beverly," he pointed out.

"Yes - when you've been hurt, or injured or sick - not at your prime. Definitely not at your prime," she repeated, stroking his length and earning a soft groan from him in return.

"Beverly..." he managed hoarsely.

She smiled at him. "I don't have to go to work for a few hours," she reminded him.

"You don't want to get some sleep first?" he asked, more out of courtesy than out of a lack of desire; the gentle ministrations of her hand was making sleep the last thing he wanted - but she did have to leave soon.

Beverly gave a soft laugh, then grew serious. "I don't ever want to sleep again, Jean-Luc. We've waited far too long for this for me to ever want to waste another moment when we could be together with something as unimportant as sleep." She pressed herself against him, her lips to his, and spoke softly into his mouth. "Sleep can wait, food can wait," she whispered, "the world can wait. All I want now... and forever... is you."

Beverly looked up from behind the counter as the door chimed and smiled pleasantly - not too pleasantly! she cautioned herself - at Pat as she entered the shop, but the woman was far too busy hurrying in to notice anything different in Beverly's expression.

Not that there was everything different, Beverly told herself; after the first customers of the morning had given her curious looks, and one had asked after her health, she had hastened to Pat's office and availed herself of Pat's make-up kit. A touch of concealer under the eyes covered the dark circles that had come from a night of no sleep - and a touch more on her face softened the bright blush that bespoke her exuberant bedroom activities. Now, three hours later, the make-up had faded a bit, leaving her look like a woman who had been running a coffee shop by herself for almost four hours on a busy morning rather than a woman who had spent the previous eight hours putting a healthy dent in fulfilling twenty years of sexual fantasies.

I'm glad to know someone else had a good evening, Beverly thought as she studied Pat's glowing face, though she found no trace of a double standard in her noting Pat's happiness while trying to conceal her own. Pat had never made any pretense at hiding her amorous adventures from Beverly and Jean-Luc - though, thankfully, she also never went into excessive detail, either. Still, there was never any mistaking which mornings followed a night of her bedroom frolics: Pat, who almost always smiled, positively beamed on those mornings, her satisfaction in the world exuding from every pore.

That, Beverly thought - and the fact that she was invariably late on those days.

Beverly didn't need to look at the clock to know that it was well past nine in the morning; even with the Valentine Day parties and romances that had marked the previous night, most of their clients had followed their regular habits the next morning - and having just served Gary, the insurance agent, his usual macchiato, she knew it had to be almost half past the hour.

"Good morning, Pat," she said carefully, making sure her tone of voice was precisely the same as it was every other day. After all, she thought, while Pat was certain to be pleased for both her and Jean-Luc, she didn't think he would appreciate being the object of the inevitable bawdy comments that would follow their discovery - and neither would she, Beverly decided. "The coffee shipment was delivered, and I've checked it in. I called the dairy; we're running low on half and half. They'll have the driver stop by with an extra order before noon. Teague used the last of the blood orange syrup and didn't mark it on the list," she added.

"Not a problem!" Pat sang out as sailed past, pulling off her coat. "I'll run out and pick up a few bottles this afternoon; make sure you add it to tomorrow's order."

"Already done," Beverly replied with a relieved sigh. One encounter done, she thought; only the rest of my life to go without provoking a reaction.

Still, she sighed, it might be easier if Jean-Luc skipped his usual morning visit today.

They had discussed that option as they lay together a few hours earlier - then dismissed it. Anything - even something as trivial as his not having breakfast at the shop - might provoke Pat's curiosity. Still, they had discussed every detail of their 'typical' breakfasts, trying to make sure that whatever they did this morning would be completely unremarkable.

Still, Beverly sighed, maybe I shouldn't have been quite so efficient this morning; if Pat was tied up in the stock room while we're eating, she might not notice that something - everything! - had changed.

"Everything okay, honey?" Pat asked, walking up behind Beverly.

Startled, Beverly gasped - then turned around, chuckling. "I didn't hear you," she said.

Pat smiled back. "You were worlds away. Are you okay? You look a little peaky. You and John sleep okay?"

Horrified that she had somehow betrayed their relationship in only a few seconds, Beverly hastily replied, "No! We just had a rough night... I mean it was a long and hard day... I mean..."

Surprised by Beverly's reaction, Pat patted the woman's arm reassuringly. "Take it easy, dear. What you and John did was a wonderful thing," she said soothingly.

"Yes, it was," Beverly agreed, "I mean..."

Pat smiled gently. "I know what you mean: deciding to help that young man was wonderful - but it was also risky. You're putting a lot of faith in someone you don't know - and you're risking the possibility that he may just go back out and do what he did to you to someone else. That was a difficult decision - I'm not surprised you two had a rough night over it," she concluded.

"Ummm... yes," Beverly demurred.

Smiling to herself, humming softly, Pat turned, re-entering the work area behind the counter.

Dear God, Beverly thought to herself, I sound like I'm fourteen! Was I this obvious when I was involved with Odan? she wondered - then glanced across the street at the door to the school.

Oh, Jean-Luc, how I must have hurt you when I fell in love with Odan, she thought with a pained sigh.

Not that I wasn't jealous of your relationships, she added silently; Vash, Nella, Kamala, Jenice...

Oh, the time we wasted.

Or perhaps we didn't waste it. Neither of us were ready - and, she added with brutal honesty, if we weren't here, stuck in this place and time, we'd still be dancing around each other, neither of us able to make the commitment to one another that we both wanted and needed.

Fate and circumstance have forced our hand, she thought, and as much as I did not want to spend the rest of my life in this world, at least I can spend it with you.

With you, she repeated as she watched the door of the school open and Jean-Luc step into the morning's cold wind.

Glancing to one side of the road, then the other, he waited for a lull in traffic, then hurried across the street, giving a half leap over the small mound of snow that was the only remnant of the blizzard a few weeks before.

If only we had made this decision two weeks ago, she thought as she watched him walk toward the shop, we could have spent that day doing something more than watching movies and making a mess in the shop's kitchen.

Not that it hadn't been fun, but...

But we'll have more chances, she told him silently as he opened the door.

"Good morning, John," she said in her perfectly measured tones.

"Good morning, Beverly," he replied easily, his expression perfectly controlled.

He reached for her hand - as he always did - and took it in his.

"Tea and croissant?"

"I thought a muffin this morning," he answered. "I'm rather hungry."

"Cranberry?"

"Lovely," he agreed.

She freed his hand from his, set about making the small meal, then gestured for him to take his usual place at one of the small tables.

Exactly as they always did, Beverly thought with relief, placing the plate and cup on the counter, adding her own breakfast selections, then walked around the counter. Picking up the plates, she set them on the table, then added the cups and sat down across from her lover.

"Are you going running this morning?"

"I thought I'd work on the forms today. It's a bit windy."

She nodded.

"And you?"

"Nothing exciting. What would you like for dinner?" she asked as she raised the muffin to her mouth and bit into it.

"You."

Caught in mid-swallow, Beverly began to choke. Hastily swallowing a sip of the hot tea, she managed to get the piece of muffing down, then glared at Picard. "I thought we agreed..."

"Pat's in the back," he said with a smile. "She can't see us or hear us - and I had to tell you how wonderful last night was. And this morning. And this afternoon?" he added hopefully.

"You're incorrigible," she whispered back.

"I'm making up for too many years of lost time," he answered - then glanced toward the kitchen door. Finding no prying eyes, he raised Beverly's hand to his lips, kissing it softly. "This afternoon?"

"I don't get off until three," she reminded him, "and your classes start at four."

"I'm sure we can find enough time..."

"I hope not," she countered. "A little patience, my dear captain, and I'll make it worth your while."

"I'll hold you to it," he replied - then hastily set her hand down, picking up the muffin as Pat re-entered the dining area.

"Good morning, John," she said as she breezed past him.

"Good morning, Pat," he replied evenly, calmly, with practiced ease and assurance.

Pat made it one step further, then stopped short, backtracked to the table and stared at Picard.

"Oh... my... god..." she said, staring into his eyes - then turned and slapped Beverly on the shoulder. "And you didn't say a word!" she added accusingly.

Beverly's mouth fell open - only to be quickly closed. "I don't know what you're talking about," she tried.

"You two... 'only friends'..." Pat burst out laughing delightedly. "Oh, my! Wait until I tell Gy..."

Picard stood quickly. "Pat... Please don't. At least... not for a while. This is new for us, and well..." He lowered his voice, turning Pat away from Beverly.

They spoke for a moment, Pat growing, in turn silent and thoughtful, then grinning and jubilant. She patted him on the cheek, then returned to where Beverly still sat, stunned, kissed her on the cheek and trundled her way back into the kitchen. "Don't worry, loves, your secret is safe with me!"

Beverly followed the woman, horror still filling her eyes. "Secret for about one minute," she sighed - then looked at Picard. "We'll be lucky if the entire town doesn't know by lunch. How did she figure it out?"

He shook his head as he took his place at the table once more. "I don't know - but I do know that she isn't going to be telling this tale too far," he said.

"Oh?"

He shook his head. "I told her that if word gets out, then all those women who are signing up for the self-defense class might rethink the idea. Pat may be a matchmaker, but she's a businesswoman as well. She needs the school to be successful - and so do we," he added, taking Beverly's hand once again as he grew serious. "We're here for the long term, Beverly - and that means being able to survive on our own. We can't do that on what you make alone - but add that to my income from teaching, and the extra money from the self-defense classes and we'll be able to have enough funds to try a make a life - a real life - here. Perhaps even a future," he added.

The harshness of their situation came crashing back on Beverly, returning her to grim reality after a night of romantic fantasy.

"It's not the life we both thought we were going to have," he said, seeing her expression, "but... I will try to make it the best life I can." He half-rose from the seat, leaned forward - and after a cautious glance toward the window, kissed her soundly. "I'm going to go practice - and then I'm going for a long run, and then a very cold shower. And you should make sure you get a nap this afternoon, because I have some very interesting plans for this evening," he added with a wicked smile.

He kissed her again, then pulled away from the table, grabbed his coat and left the store, jogging back across the street to the school.

Stunned, Beverly rose slowly from the table, stacking up the used plates and saucers, and dazedly making her way back to the kitchen.

She started staking the used plated in the washer when Pat bustled back in, still grinning.

Beverly rose. "Pat?"

"Yes, dearie?"

"How did you know?"

"Not from you, if that's what's troubling you," she assured Beverly.

"Then how? John has years of experience as a negotiator..."

"John might be brilliant at talking about business - but he's a novice at love," she replied. "Every day he comes in here, looking at you with this expression of ravenous hunger. He wanted you so badly that he could taste it. But today? There wasn't a trace of hunger in those eyes. Either the two of you broke it off without a trace of regret on either side - or he got what he's been aching for. So... Was it worth the wait?" she asked knowingly.

Still dazed by the turn of events, Beverly sighed contentedly, murmuring, "Oh, yes," then hastily added, "I mean..."

Pat laughed. "I know what you mean, dear! But... your secret is safe with me. I need that school to be successful as much as you two do. Of course, all we really have to do is parade him about in that suit he wore yesterday, and all the ladies in town will be tearing down the door in order to sign up - or to get their kids into class," she said.

"That sounds a bit like prostituting him," Beverly frowned.

"I wasn't really suggesting we do that, Beverly," Pat replied solemnly. "John's a man of great dignity and pride, and I won't do anything that would hurt him - but there's no mistaking that he's going to attract women. He's a handsome man, dearie. Can you live with the thought that there will be others who find him as attractive as you do?"

Beverly nodded. "They always have."

She nodded. "Just remember: it's you he waited for."

"I know."

Pat turned away again.

Beverly called after her. "Pat?"

"Yes?"

"When you two were talking, he said something that made you laugh. What was it?"

Pat looked at her, smiling. "I can't tell you, dearie - I'm sworn to secrecy. Now, let's see what we can make you two for supper. Something you can eat in bed, I think..."