Beverly rang the chime on the captain's quarters and bounced on the balls of her feet as she waited to be granted entrance.

"Come."

She smiled and strode through the doors. Jean-Luc stood in front of his sofa, a PADD in one hand, and gestured at the already-set breakfast table. She made her way to her usual spot and sat. The butterflies in her stomach threatened to overpower her appetite.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Indeed," he replied. "Not even in my earliest Academy days did I yearn to sit in the 'Big Chair' so strongly."

"You didn't know what you were missing back then," Beverly said, then added, "Besides, that was eons ago, and today's chairs are far more comfortable."

Jean-Luc laughed. "Very true. Nothing but the best for the flagship of the Federation."

"Now, just because you've been cleared for duty doesn't mean I want you running around, saving the galaxy on your first shift—"

"Doctor—"

"Captain—"

"I will not have you molly-coddling—"

"I'm not 'molly-coddling,' I'm simply advocating a gradual return to work. You don't need to single-handedly defeat the Borg in order to prove you're fit to command."

Jean-Luc looked as though he was about to protest then changed his mind. A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes as he said, "All right."

Beverly arched an eyebrow, suspicious.

"I will take it easy and leave all the galaxy-saving to Will."

Her left eyebrow rose to join her right. "You will?"

"On one condition."

Beverly took a sip of coffee to give herself time to consider where he was going with this line of conversation. "And that would be?" she eventually asked.

"You'll have dinner with me tonight."

She relaxed slightly. He knew he needed to take it easy, and was just teasing her because he knew he could get a reaction. She picked a croissant from the plate and pulled off a bite.

"Of course," she replied. "I was expecting a full report on your first shift anyway. We might as well enjoy a meal while we discuss—"

"And stay for breakfast tomorrow morning," he added.

The croissant dropped to table with a soft thud.

"I wasn't expecting that," she whispered, unable to catch her breath as a million butterflies pounded against her lungs.

Jean-Luc leaned across the table and took her now-empty hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Fire raced across Beverly's skin, matching her heartbeat.

He took his gaze from hers and studied the fingers he held. He spotted a tiny flake of pastry on her index finger and brought her hand to his mouth again. He closed his lips around her finger and removed the offending piece of croissant with his tongue.

Beverly stifled a moan.

"Jean-Luc, I—"

"Beverly, you were the only reason I didn't give up and let the plants consume me. You; not this ship nor her crew," Jean-Luc said. He gently kissed the tips of each remaining finger and her stomach plummeted to her feet. "Nothing, not my duty to Starfleet, nor my own sense of self-preservation could have withstood those vines. I fought to stay in my own mind—and I fought to help you rediscover yours—because I simply cannot fathom a universe without you."

"Jean-Luc..." she tried to speak past the lump in her throat and failed.

"I love you," he said, "with every breath in my body. I always have, and I always will."

He reached across the table and rested his hand against her cheek. His thumb gently wiped away the moisture from the corner of her eye while his fingers twined themselves into her hair. She closed her eyes and leaned into the warmth of his palm.

"Please tell me you love me too," he whispered.

The soft plea—so open and vulnerable—ripped through her chest like a burst dam, releasing a flood of pent-up emotions.

"Yes, Jean-Luc," she replied, "I love you. I love your wit, your charm, and damn it, even your intractable stubbornness."

"Then tell me you'll stay," he said. "Tell me we can stop dancing around the elephant in the room."

She shook her head. "It's not that simple. Life in Starfleet is dangerous—"

"Would you mourn me any less if I died as your friend and not as your lover?"

Beverly's stomach flip-flopped at the mention of 'lover.' She shook her head. Losing Jean-Luc would be like losing a vital organ, no matter what their relationship.

"The only difference for me," he said, "is I would face an eternity of regret if I lost you now. Losing you would crush me beyond redemption, but losing you without ever having acted upon my feelings for you would be infinitely worse."

He was right, she knew. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if he died and all she was left with was, "If only..."

Still, the notion of opening her heart to someone so completely again made her limbs numb and her stomach rebel.

"It's impossible to fear giving away something you no longer possess."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I lost my heart to you years ago, and you gave me yours too—we've just been too frightened to admit it." He caressed her temple and shifted his chair so they sat knee to knee. "And it's time for that to stop. No more pretending."

"What if it doesn't work out?"

"What if it does?"

"I don't want to lose what we already have."

"Do you honestly think we'll still be this close if either of us finds another partner?"

Beverly flashed back to her liaison with the Trill ambassador, Odan. Even with the euphoria of being romantically involved again, she couldn't escape the sense of loss as Jean-Luc pulled away. And, she had to admit, she'd wanted to gouge that tramp, Vash's eyes out when she'd shown up on the ship.

"One of us is either going to get promoted, posted elsewhere, or worse. As much as remaining 'just friends' seems like the safest course of action, we're only deluding ourselves."

Beverly sighed as her fear gave way to relief. It was time to drop the act. "I've wanted to touch you, to hold you, to be close to you as more than your physician for a long time now."

Jean-Luc leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. Beverly closed her eyes as a jolt of a thousand phasers set on stun passed between them.

"Then stay with me."

He kissed her lips again.

"Tonight."

He moved his mouth along her jaw.

"Tomorrow."

Then traced the line of her neck to the collar of her uniform top.

"Forever."

THE END