Author's Note: I have already written a separate story about how Beverly and Jean-Luc become a couple, so this chapter and those that follow will (finally!) feature scenes from their developing life together. Hope you enjoy.
Jean-Luc Picard straightened his uniform and exited the bedroom, heading for the replicator and morning breakfast.
But as he crossed the threshold he stopped abruptly, breath stilling in his chest, arrested by the sight before him.
Beverly Crusher sat on the couch in the living area, already in uniform, her long legs folded comfortably beneath her, fiery auburn hair cascading down over her shoulders as she focused on the padd she was reading. Although her back was to him she looked like she belonged there and he was certain he'd never seen a more beautiful sight.
Jean-Luc leaned against the doorframe as his thoughts drifted back to the previous night, and the night before that.
For a long while after she'd fallen asleep both nights he remained awake, savoring the feel of her body spooned against his, cataloging the touch, the taste, the scent of her as she lay in his arms. Already their newfound intimacy had become so precious to him – more precious than almost anything else in his life – that thinking about it took his breath away.
There was so much he wanted to share with her – everything he was, everything he hoped to be. And to share anything of herself that she was willing to give. To celebrate her successes, commiserate with her sorrows, help bear her burdens. But even more than that, he was finding he wanted to spend the quiet moments with her. Those moments in between the joys and sorrows, the moments of simply being together that made up a life. Moments like this one –
"Jean-Luc, you're burning a hole in the back of my head," she said without moving a muscle, but he could hear the smile in her voice.
Her comment stirred him into languid motion.
"Good morning," he greeted her, rounding the couch and leaning down to kiss her firmly on the lips.
"Good morning to you, too," she purred, setting the padd aside and pulling him down to sit beside her. She kissed him again, lingeringly, feeling his warm lips caress her own. "Mmm, I could get used to this."
"As could I," he replied softly. At the moment there was nothing in the entire universe he wanted more than to have the opportunity.
She drew back and gathered his hands in hers. "Now, why are you looking so somber so early in the morning? I know it may be hard to get used to having someone else around," she said sympathetically. "If it is I can –"
He shook his head and lightly squeezed the fingers that held his. "No." He paused, gathering his thoughts. He added slowly, "I'm just still finding it a bit difficult to believe –"
"That we're great together in bed?" Now she grinned at him playfully. "I never had any doubt about that." About plenty of other things, she reflected, but never about that. Her grin turned wicked as she thought back over the events of the previous two nights. The very…satisfying… events. Making love with Jean-Luc Picard was every bit as special as she'd ever dreamed it would be.
He smiled a little, sharing the sentiment, then shook his head again. "That you're here. With me," he murmured almost shyly.
Finally having the opportunity to express his ardor for her through his mouth and hands and body was unutterably dear to him. But what he treasured even more was the simple fact of their togetherness. After so many years of silent, hopeless yearning, she was here with him at last.
Already he could imagine no other way of being.
"Being with you, here, like this," he stopped and swallowed thickly, "I feel…complete."
Beverly inexplicably felt the sting of tears against her eyelids. She curled her fingers around his and drew his hand in to rest against her chest, just over her heart. "I love you, Jean-Luc Picard," she said with quiet, fervent intensity. "I have for a long time. I'm sorry it took me so long to do something about it."
Immediately he shook his head, refusing her apology. His smile was soft and warm as he regarded her. "That doesn't matter. It only makes me appreciate what we have now all the more."
She breathed out a sigh, drawing his hand to her mouth and lightly kissing the tips of his fingers. "Thank you. I just feel like I wasted so much time."
His hand tightened on hers. "No, Beverly. I've always understood that you felt conflicted over our relationship, and that you didn't want me to rush you."
"But I never asked how you felt, what you wanted."
He drew back to gaze into her eyes. "I want what I've always wanted," he said simply. His wonderful deep voice, low and rough with emotion, resonated right through her body. "You. However much of yourself you're willing to share."
Beverly found she couldn't tear her eyes away from his. How had she never noticed that his irises were gold-flecked green, like a star system in miniature, or the tiny crinkles at the corners of his eyes as he smiled into hers? How could she have spent so long pushing away this man who loved her with everything that was in him and asked for so little in return? "Everything," she whispered, her voice firm, unwavering. Certain.
She had always known it would be this way. That a relationship with Jean-Luc would be one in which she could hold nothing back. Not because he demanded it, but because once the walls she'd so carefully erected between them came down she would want to show him everything, every part of herself, the good and the bad, secure in the knowledge that he would see her clearly and unhesitatingly accept her – with all her faults and flaws – just as she was.
"I feel the same," Jean-Luc whispered in reply. Her response was more than he'd dared hope for, yet all that he secretly desired. His eyes slid closed as a feeling of profound contentment welled up within him. No one – except possibly for Q – could know what the future would hold. All he knew for certain was that he and Beverly would cherish every single moment of it. Together.
#
