Beverly had registered the noises downstairs but easily ignored them as she tended to her patients. She monitored Deanna's heart rate and color and was pleased to see an immediate improvement postpartum. She cleaned up the afterbirth and gently washed Deanna, going over with the new mother the care that she would need over the coming days. Between Lwaxanna and her, they helped Deanna learn how to nurse him and she noted that the baby seemed to latch on well. She told both mother and grandmother that the baby would need to eat frequently and would only sleep for short periods of time. Fortunately, Guinan had brought several blankets that Marie had made into the room and Beverly stressed the importance of keeping the tiny infant warm. Two of the cooks had carried the food she had ordered prepared up on trays and she had gotten Deanna, as excited as she was, to eat some stew, greens and cornbread. Once everyone appeared taken care of, she sat down in a comfortable chair to give her body, if not her mind, some rest.

Beverly had forgotten all about the commotion in the house when she heard a knock on the door and the unmistakable voice of Kate Pulaski. "Beverly, do you need any help?"

"Yes, come in."

Upon seeing Deanna holding the baby to her breast and a disheveled but radiant Lwaxanna sitting on the bed beside her, Kate smiled. "Boy or girl?"

"A boy," Lwaxanna could not help but gush. She clamped a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry, little one. I should have let you answer," she said to her daughter.

Deanna did not need to look up from her nursing child. She smiled, serene. "His name is William Thomas Riker, Jr.," she said quietly and proudly.

"That's wonderful," Beverly breathed.

"Of course!" Lwaxanna said.

"How very nice." Kate looked around the room and noted that, although the room was messy and smelled of the occupants' efforts, everyone seemed to be all right. She smiled at the new mother and child, then delivered her news. "If that's junior, then we'd better get senior up here."

"Senior?" Deanna looked away from her son for the first time to question the smiling Kate.

Lwaxanna did as well.

Beverly opened the eyes she had just closed.

Once Kate had everyone's attention, she announced, "Yes, Lt. Riker is downstairs right now! The regiment was finally granted leave."

"Oh!" Lwaxanna exclaimed, for her shocked daughter. "Well, send him up!"

Jean-Luc, Beverly thought but could not say. Jean-Luc must be home, too. Her lips parted as if in anticipation, but she closed her mouth before anyone could notice. She had to see him, but how?

"The captain and Mrs. Picard are downstairs with Dr. Timicin and Lt. Riker," Guinan announced.

"Dr. Timicin is here?" Lwaxanna jumped off the bed a little too enthusiastically. Embarrassed, she turned to Deanna. "Why don't I go down and tell Will to come up?"

"Yes, please, mother." While Deanna was glad to have had her mother with her when William was born, she rather liked the idea of her making herself scarce so that she could be alone with Will.

"Oh, I must look a fright," Lwaxanna fretted, pinching her cheeks and re-arranging her hair on her way out the door.

Deanna watched as tiny William's lips stopped sucking and pursed together. His eyes were closed and he looked like he had fallen asleep. His little face was perfect.

Kate bustled around the room collecting bloody sheets, towels and instruments. She emptied the basins of water out the window, stuffed the linens and other items into the basins, as much as they would fit, then scanned the room. Fresh bedding was stacked on a chair. She replaced Deanna's damp pillowcase with a new one, maneuvered a dry sheet underneath her as best she could, and covered the bed with a clean quilt. Satisfied that she had remove all evidence that a baby had just been born, with the exception of one thing, she turned to that last remaining thing. "Come on, Beverly," she said, standing above her resting colleague. "You and I will have to give them a moment alone."

Energized by the thought of seeing Jean-Luc, Beverly stood up too quickly. She felt faint and immediately sat back down. Before Kate could give the order, she lifted her water glass and took a healthy drink.

There was a knock on the door.

Deanna answered, "Come in." She felt her heart pounding as she looked over her shoulder in time to see . . .

. . . Will shyly poke his head into the room, as if feeling that he did not belong in this sanctuary of women.

"Hello," Deanna said warmly, her eyes and lips smiling fully at him. Tears filled her eyes. Her prayers had been answered this night—twice.

Although squeamish about what had just occurred in the room, and the presence of the two midwives, Will focused on the beautiful face he had dreamed of for so long. He could scarcely believe he was really—finally—with her again. He stepped toward her and looked at the bundle of blankets in her arms, the tiny face peeping out of one end, sleeping peacefully. He felt both awed and afraid.

Deanna was thankful that she was already reclining, for the sight of her beloved would surely have made her weak in the knees.

"Have a seat, Will." Her arms full, Kate nodded toward the bed.

Beverly was eating some cornbread to make sure she would be able to walk out of the room without passing out. "Kate," she said between bites, "please take those things out to the hall, then help me." She turned to the happy couple lying together on the bed. "Welcome home, Will."

Will took his eyes of his wife and son to briefly smile back at Beverly. "Thank you. And thank you for helping Deanna and . . . William."

Beverly felt a lump in her throat and saw tears form in her eyes. "I'm so glad that you're back, that the two of you are together."

Will kissed Deanna's forehead. "We are, too." He looked up to tell Beverly where Jean-Luc was and how he was occupied, but Kate had returned.

"All right," Kate said. "The new family looks to be well settled. Will, help yourself to the food. There's plenty."

As soon as she mentioned the food, Will felt hungry. From his perch next to his wife, he looked over the food tray.

"I'm going to just make a plate for Beverly and we'll be right out of your way."

"But, Deanna," Beverly warned, "I'll be right down the hall. I want you to send Will to get me if you don't feel well or anything happens. If you have any problems or questions about the baby or yourself. Please come get me."

"We will," Deanna promised, looking at her friend and seeing her for the first time in hours. "I'll take good care of him and of myself."

Beverly nodded, trusting Deanna's word. "And one last thing. Will, please take your boots off." She looked at his feet, resting on top of Marie's quilt.

The tall man quickly sat up to comply.

"All right, Beverly." Kate had piled a generous helping of food on to a plate and extended an arm to assist her colleague.

Beverly smiled at her friends one more time, then stood, fairly sure that she was able to walk, although the light-headed feeling had not completely disappeared, and accompanied Kate out of the bedroom. Despite the fourteen hours or so she had spent in the labor room, her dehydration, the piles in the hall that needed to be sent to be cleaned and her precarious walking, Beverly could only thing of one thing, or, more accurately, one person: Jean-Luc.

Standing in the upstairs hall, Beverly saw light coming from the front parlor and heard voices—Kyle Riker's loud thundering, Dr. Timicin, then him. She heard Jean-Luc's deep, confident voice and she stopped and breathed in suddenly, without thinking, to keep hearing him speak. So eager to see him, her body trembled.

"Oh, my," Kate said, misinterpreting Beverly's response as indicative of a medical problem. "We'd better get you to bed and I'll take a look at you. I'll come back for those things later. Now, which is your bedroom?"

As much as Beverly did not want to go to bed and did not want to be examined by Kate, she knew that getting checked to make sure she had not overextended herself was the proper course. But, she was in a quandary. She could not lead Kate to her bedroom, because it was also Jean-Luc's room, with all of his things as well as hers. The other guest rooms were devoid of any personal belongings. One room was the schoolroom, which had to remain undiscovered. Dalen's room and Marie's room rounded out the second floor.

"Um . . . ."

Kate's eyes grew wide at Beverly's apparent disorientation. Clearly, her colleague was severely fatigued and in need of nourishment.

Startling both women, Guinan suddenly appeared from the direction of the back staircase. "Dr. Crusher, do you need some help?"

Without waiting for a response, she took Beverly's other arm and led her to the guest bedroom across the hall from Deanna's room. When the women entered, Beverly saw some of her plants along the windowsills and some of her books on the nightstand. Her nana's throw and her nightgown were lying casually along the foot of the bed, as though she had tossed them there earlier. Guinan had saved her again.

"Let's get you into bed, Dr. Crusher," Guinan was saying.

Beverly noticed a pitcher of water and glasses on the nightstand as well. Guinan had thought of everything.

"Guinan," Kate said, "in the hall, there are—"

"I'm having one of the cooks take all that down to the kitchen and the laundry," Guinan said. "Do you women need anything else?"

Kate looked about. "No, I think we're all set. I'm going to check Beverly, then tuck her in and go home."

Guinan tried to attract Beverly's attention, but the latter had climbed into bed in her dress and closed her eyes with a sigh of exhaustion. Kate sat down on the bed next to her and lifted up her hand to check her pulse and skin temperature. Guinan cleared her throat, but Beverly did not catch on. Kate leaned over her to feel her forehead.

"Dr. Pulaski," Guinan finally said, "I can speak to Madame Picard about giving you a room here to stay the night."

"Oh, no, that's fine," Kate replied hastily. "I wouldn't want to put anyone to any trouble."

"I'm sure it's not as much trouble as sending you out on the roads at this hour." To end the conversation on her terms, Guinan started out of the room. She was unable to tell if Beverly was merely tired or if there was something wrong with her. Beverly had been stressed and on and off her feet all day, since the late morning, when she had discovered that Deanna needed to deliver her baby. Guinan had seen Beverly give orders and prepare everything, as well as tend to her patient and do everything in her power to bring on labor.

"Guinan!" Beverly opened her eyes, realizing that once Guinan left, they would be effectively cut off from the goings on downstairs. "What's going on down in the front parlor?"

"Nothing that concerns you," Kate answered. "You've had a very long day and the last thing you need is to join a very late New Year's Eve celebration."

"Who's there?" Beverly tried to sound innocent.

Guinan looked at her. "Madame Picard, Captain Picard and Mrs. Picard are hosting Senator Riker, Dr. Timicin, Mrs. Troi and Mrs. Nechayev."

Kate made note of the fact that the senator had arrived. Well, he did just become a grandfather, she thought. She could bring news of the happy young family to the group. Let them know everyone was all right. "I'll be down as soon as I've examined Mrs. Crusher," she told Guinan. "Maybe I will take you up on the offer of a room, if Marie makes it."

"I'm sure she will," Beverly said, her eyes following Guinan out the door, wishing they could follow her downstairs to see Jean-Luc. She just had to eat something and drink a little more so that she would have the energy.

"Beverly, I'd like you to eat something and drink a little more before you go to sleep," Kate said, arranging the plate next to her on the bed.

"Mm-hm," Beverly muttered as she reached over to butter a biscuit. "I'm starving. Don't worry, I'll eat."

"You're wearing your clothes."

Beverly nodded. "In case Deanna needs me during the night."

"Maybe I better stay here, in case you need me during the night."

Beverly nodded. "Thank you," she said, then ate a bite of the biscuit.

The two women talked for a while and Beverly told her how Deanna's dire condition had led her to feed Deanna a special mixture of herbs and to massage her for hours until she finally went into labor. She continued to eat as she explained the post-natal care Deanna would need over the next few days and what symptoms could presage a serious problem.

Satisfied that her patient was following her medical advice, Kate stood up. "All right, I'll make arrangements with Guinan to stay here overnight. You take care of yourself and get some rest."

When Kate departed, Beverly lay back against the pillows and closed her eyes—only for a moment, she planned. Jean-Luc was here! She could not wait to see him. She would brush and re-arrange her hair, freshen up and change into clean clothes. How would they get together? She wished she knew what was happening downstairs. She trusted Jean-Luc to figure out a way to see her. She only needed to be ready when he did. First, she would just rest for a few minutes.


Q loudly berated his cousin, Sheriff Q, during the entire ride into town. "How could you lock her up? She's family. Why on earth didn't you contact me? You should never have let this happen. Where is your loyalty to me?" He went on and on, despite Sheriff Q's protestations that Kyle had wielded the hammer of the law behind his actions. "She should have been released on her own recognizance. A woman of her stature, left in jail—unheard of!"

Outside the jailhouse, Q rapidly dismounted and tossed his reins to the sheriff to tie up his horse for him. He ran inside the small structure and, rounding a corner, found his wife lying on the ground, with blood all around her.

"Vash! Vash!" He yelled. He grabbed hold of the bars of her cell and rattled them, but she did not stir. "Q! Over here, quickly!"

Sheriff Q stepped into the corridor in front of the cells and was shocked at the sight of his prisoner unresponsive.

"Quick, you idiot!" Q yelled. "Open the cell! Hurry!"

Sheriff Q fumbled the keys, nervous due to the urgency of his task and more than a little inebriated from the party.

"Give them to me!" Q grabbed his cousin's hands.

"I've got it," Sheriff Q protested, his clumsy fingers finally encircling one silver key.

Q ripped the key ring out of Sheriff Q's hands and unlocked the door. He knelt down and lifted Vash's limp form into his lap. Her body was cold, her skin white-blue. Dried blood had caked on her cheek and bodice and trailed down her sleeves.

Q's eyes clouded as he squeezed her to his chest. "No," he said. "This can't be happening. It can't. I can't believe it."

Sheriff Q shuffled into the cell. "Oh, jiminy."

"How? How could this happen?"

Sheriff Q repeated "jiminy," to himself several times, removed his hat, ran his hand through his hair, and walked about the small cell cluttered with the many items Vash had accumulated for her comfort. On her bedspread, he found the silver letter opener, covered in red-brown blood. He lifted it up and managed to whisper, "Q."

Seeing the instrument of his wife's death left no question in Q's mind as to what had happened, or who was to blame. His rage built as he stared at the letter opener and squeezed Vash's lifeless body to his own. He knew as well as he knew his own mind that the wife he had left eight months ago would never have taken her own life. In his mind, Vash was murdered, regardless of whose hand had guided the letter opener across her wrists. In his grieving, he found space to harbor one more burgeoning feeling: a need for revenge.

Q rose, carrying Vash's body in his arms. Without speaking, he walked out of the cell and the jailhouse, out into the night.

Sheriff Q sat at on the bed for uncounted minutes, in utter shock that a life had been lost, in his jail, on his watch. When he finally stood up, he walked around the cell aimlessly, the last place in which Vash had walked this earth, pondering what she had felt and thought that had made her take her own life. His eyes wandered around the small compartment and eventually rested on a letter on her small desk.

"Jiminy cricket," Sheriff Q said as he read the final words of his late cousin-in-law.


The drawn-out story of Vash's arrest and continued detention had succeeded in distracting Jean-Luc from thoughts of Beverly as he tried to comprehend the depth of Kyle's vengefulness and the ramifications to everyone in his orbit of the man's abuse of legal process to hurt his enemy, Q. Casting Q and Kyle as enemies caused him to recall the old saying, "The enemy of my enemy is my friend," but, in this situation, he did not think that it applied. It was now clear to him that Kyle was as dangerous a man as Q.

Perhaps, however, their rivalry could work to his advantage. As long as the two of them were preoccupied with each other, they would have less time to meddle in his businesses, legal and illegal. Of course, Vash having been arrested, no one would be looking for any other smugglers in the county—or would they? Did Kyle actually believe Vash to be guilty or had he merely used the knowledge of an underground railroad station nearby as an excuse to persecute her? Lastly, Jean-Luc considered that someone else may have framed Vash. The prime suspect in that scenario, he believed, was the thin woman sitting next to him on the couch, suffering in her forced socializing.

Despite the late hour, none of his guests appeared ready to leave. Kyle seemed to be assessing Jean-Luc, much as Jean-Luc was using the impromptu gathering to learn more about Kyle. Jean-Luc told unexciting tales of army life to satisfy his inquisitor's apparent need to evaluate his command ability. Dr. Timicin seemed fine, but not as pleasant or conversational as Dalen. Marie, of course, was her usual delightful self, making sure that everyone was happy, or at least presenting as such. Alynna took part in the light banter of the group, but her eyes also appeared to be scheming, Jean-Luc thought, hiding an intelligence she may not wish to advertise.

Of course, a great deal of the conversation centered on the new baby and the fortunate parents.

"Yoo-hoo, captain," Lwaxanna called to him in his reverie, "I hope the two of you will be the next parents to make a happy announcement." She wagged her finger between Miss Ro and him.

Ro patted his cheek affectionately. "Maybe, now that we have a chance to spend some time together."

He smiled at her, more as a compliment of her improved playacting skills. "Nothing would make me happier than becoming a father," he said truthfully.

Ro smiled at his own deception.

"Oh, Kate, please join us," Marie said upon seeing the midwife walk cautiously into the room. "How is Deanna? How's the baby?"

"They're all doing very well." Kate's smile lit up her face.

Alynna, still not interested in childbirth, thought it would be a good idea to move the conversation along. She was quite fascinated watching Captain and Mrs. Picard together and was in no hurry to end the evening. "Kate, what happened? How did Deanna end up going into labor so early?"

"Well, Deanna didn't exactly go into labor naturally. Beverly induced labor because Deanna was in some distress and the baby and she could have been in serious danger. Really, Deanna's very lucky that Beverly was able to bring labor on and help both baby and mother. Very few midwives—"

"Come now, Kate," Kyle interrupted, "I'm sure we don't need all the gory details, eh, Captain?"

Jean-Luc had perked up at the mention of Beverly and would have loved to have heard more details about her role, if not a graphic description of the birth itself. From the start of Kate's narrative, it sounded as though his wife's impressive medical skills had once again saved lives. He smiled at the senator's question, secretly proud of Beverly. "It's very good to learn that mother and child are doing well."

"Without providing too many details," Dr. Timicin began, to insert himself into the discussion, "I will second Mrs. Pulaski's opinion that Beverly Crusher is an extraordinarily talented medical professional. A few months ago, she saved J.P. Henson's wife's life. I've never seen anything like her surgical skills in all my years of practicing medicine, even at Harvard."

Kyle chuckled. "Really? A woman?"

"That was my thought at first, of course. But, Mrs. Crusher truly is a very intelligent, remarkable woman. I suppose her dedication to her work is why she never remarried."

Alynna had been watching Miss Ro since Beverly's name had been mentioned and she saw the young woman begin to squirm. Dr. Timicin's remark about Beverly's marital status then made Jean-Luc abandon his studied evenness and he frowned. He turned to Ro and took her hand. Alynna enjoyed their discomfort.

Everyone else turned to look at the Picards.

Ro saw the opportunity she had awaited for what felt like hours. "Well, it's very late and I'm sure we're all tired. Thank you for sharing—"

The sound of footsteps in the hall drew everyone's attention. Wesley stepped out of the darkness.

"Excuse me," Wesley said in the doorway. "I just wanted to say goodnight and Happy New Year to everyone. I was with Mr. Soong, who had some, uh, difficulty this evening." He looked at the captain. "Things got a little rowdy and some other people were disturbed."

"Is everything all right now, Wes?" Jean-Luc asked.

"Yes, sir. Everyone is settled in where they're supposed to be."

Jean-Luc communicated his approval with his eyes. Used to his commanding officer's nonverbal cues, Wesley understood and bowed to the group before leaving.

"Wesley! Wesley Crusher!" Kyle stood up as he shouted to the young man.

At first, Wesley thought his freedom of movement might be questioned and looked to Jean-Luc for guidance.

Kyle quickly disarmed him. "I owe you an apology, Wesley, and I want you to come in here so that I can pour you a drink."

Wesley hesitated.

"Is this Beverly Crusher's son?" Dr. Timicin asked, in a tone of wondrous excitement.

Kyle strode out to meet Wesley and wrap an arm around his shoulders. "Come in, come in, son. Now that I know you weren't the abolitionist smuggler, I want to make sure I apologize." He turned to the group. "Now that we know it was Q all along. He must have framed Wesley to cover up his own dastardly operation."

Murmurs of agreement issued from the group. To be politick, Wesley downed a few glasses of Jean-Luc's spirits, graciously offered by Kyle, as the latter apologized and talked about what a fine young man Wesley was, serving his country. Next, Wesley was subject to questioning by Dr. Timicin, who found him a fascinating specimen who, being male, was certain to be even more intelligent than his genetically gifted mother, but who, alas, was uninterested in medicine.

After Dr. Timicin's protracted questioning of the young man, Lwaxanna grew positively bored. "Well, I think I'll just go up and check on Deanna." She stood.

Marie joined her. "That's a good idea. I'll come up with you." She turned to the group. "Of course, it's so late, I'd be happy to put you all up for the night." Belatedly, she looked to Jean-Luc for approval and saw the sparkle of the polite host in his eyes recede.

"Yes," he added, hoping no one noticed his displeasure with the offer, "of course, you're all welcome to stay."

Alynna, who had noticed, smirked at Jean-Luc's unwilling invitation. "Thank you, Captain, that's very gracious of you, but I live so close by, I'm sure I can get home safely."

Kyle jumped at his chance. "Mrs. Nechayev, I would be more than happy to see you home. I need to get back to my house to attend to state business in the morning."

No one believed his excuse, but no one said anything contrary.

"Thank you, Marie, I'd like to stay," Kate said, "if only to help Deanna and Beverly."

"Yes, thank you, Madame Picard," Dr. Timicin added. "I would be much obliged to you for sparing me a perilous journey back to town in the darkest hours of the night."

Ro could not help rolling her eyes. She was shocked to discover Alynna give her a winking smile.

"Good, then it's all settled. I'll have Guinan fix up rooms for everyone and I'll say my good nights to the senator and my dear neighbor." Marie flitted about the room like a happy butterfly and, indeed, the birth of a new life in her house had lightened her mood immensely.

After seeing Kyle and Alynna out, the remaining cluster headed up the stairs. Jean-Luc and Miss Ro brought up the rear, arm in arm.

"Can we go back to my house?" Ro whispered.

Jean-Luc knew it was a good idea, but he could not bear the thought of leaving Beverly behind.

Understanding his hesitation, Ro offered, "I don't think you're going to be able to be with her tonight, with this crowd. She'll be busy with Deanna, anyway."

Jean-Luc nodded, but could not make his body understand the logic. If there was some way of even seeing Beverly, he needed to stay here in his house, because he needed to see her.

At the top of the stairs, Guinan directed the traffic. "Dr. Crusher's sleeping in this room," she announced, making sure that Jean-Luc saw that she indicated the door next to his.

Each guest was shown his or her bedroom and a small group was allowed to look in on Deanna. Will briefly appeared in the hall to receive congratulations, including a hearty pat on the back from Jean-Luc and a peck on the cheek from Ro. Exhausted, Wesley slunk off to bed. Marie kissed Jean-Luc again and hugged him.

"I'm so very happy that you're home," she said before going to her bedroom.

From her oversized happiness at his presence, Jean-Luc was left with the distinct impression that Marie knew something that she was not telling him.

Ro tried not to look awkward as everyone scurried back and forth in the hall. She did not feel comfortable going into Jean-Luc's bedroom with him, thus she tried to feign a hostess's concern with her guests' comfort. She smiled at Dr. Timicin when he remarked on the baby's good color despite his low birth weight. She asked if Kate had everything she needed. Guinan finally raised a thin eyebrow in her direction and she met up with Jean-Luc again in the hall.

"Shall we, my dear?" Jean-Luc said, opening his bedroom door. "Good night, all," he called to the emptying hall.

Inside the sanctity of the bedroom, Ro sighed loudly. "That was exhausting."

Jean-Luc smiled as he unbuttoned his uniform jacket. "That was not the worst encounter we could possibly have had. The important thing is that Worf and the passengers are all safe." Crossing to the far side of the room, he found a blanket in the bottom of a cedar chest. "I'll sleep on the divan. You take the bed."

Ro felt odd displacing him. "But, it's your bed. You should sleep in it."

Jean-Luc would not brook any disagreement. "This is luxurious compared to my recent sleeping arrangements." He spread the blanket out on the cushions. "At any rate, I hope to spend at least part of my night in a different room, which will be quite comfortable." He took off his jacket and draped it around a straight-backed chair. The same chair, in fact, in which he had made love to Beverly for the first time—a memory that flashed into his mind and prompted his hand to linger on the jacket for a moment of longing.

Ro blushed. Her tipsiness, Jean-Luc's evident preoccupation with sex and being alone with him in his bedroom were all combining to produce an unwelcome arousal in her. Opening the covers of the bed, she sat down, slipped off her shoes, then hurried underneath the blanket and comforter.

Her speed caught Jean-Luc's attention. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, uh, fine. It's just . . . this just feels a little awkward." She began to remove her dress under the covers, acutely aware that her movements likely announced her hidden actions.

"Agreed."

Oblivious to the heightened emotions of his business partner, Jean-Luc came closer to the bed on his way to the door. Holding his ear against the thick wood, he heard Dr. Timicin's voice. "Damn it," he muttered.

He walked back, sighed and sat down on the divan to think. He needed to wait until the newly settled partiers had all fallen asleep, so as not to be heard. Looking about his bedroom, taking in the familiar surroundings that he had not seen in months, he caught sight of a book on the vanity.

King Lear. He smiled as he settled back on to the comfortable divan, planning to read while the rest of the household succumbed to their dreams. The beautiful language normally comforted and entertained him, but tonight he had difficulty staying focused.

"Are you going to leave that light on?"

"Hm?"

Ro rolled over in his direction. "I'm trying to sleep. The light is keeping me awake."

Jean-Luc was defensive. "I'm only going to read until the house has fallen asleep. Then, I'll sneak out to Beverly's room."

Ro looked at him. "Weren't you traveling all day? Aren't you dog tired? It must be three in the morning."

"I'm . . . tired, yes, but I don't feel like sleeping."

"Have you thought that maybe Beverly's sound asleep? I don't hear any knocking on the wall." Her eyes shot toward the wall between their room and Beverly's. "We were as loud as a herd of elephants coming upstairs. If that woke her, wouldn't she be signaling to you?"

Jean-Luc's heart raced. He had not thought to try to communicate with Beverly through the wall, but as soon as Ro suggested it, he clung to the idea like a drowning man grabbing a riverbank tree branch.

He stood up and leaned into the wall, his ear pinned against it. "Beverly?" He whispered urgently.

No response.

"Beverly?" He said a little louder. He moved along the wall, over and around furniture, rapping on the wood with his knuckles and repeating her name. "Beverly? Beverly?"

"A little louder. I don't think Kate Pulaski heard you." Ro was tired and peevish after her long, difficult day. Whatever reverence she normally would have shown the captain was buried beneath her irritation and the inhibition-lifting effects of the alcohol.

Jean-Luc turned toward the bed. Miss Ro had rolled over again, thus only her back taunted him. He decided he had had enough waiting. He set the candle on the nightstand and blew it out. Easily finding the doorknob, he slowly turned it and gingerly opened the door, as narrowly as possible to allow him to sneak through the doorway, his excitement building. He backed out into the pitch black of the hall and closed the door without making a sound. Feeling successful thus far, he turned and took a step. His foot landed on someone else's.

"Ah!"

He heard a muffled feminine cry and reached out. He caught the wrist of the person he had run into to steady her. Once righted, the woman's hands reached out and blindly touched his chest, his chin and his hair, sliding up to his bald head.

With a gasp, the woman pulled away. "Captain!"

"Mrs. Troi," Jean-Luc said, recognizing her voice and, he realized, her overpowering perfume.

"Oh, uh, I . . . I'm so sorry," Lwaxanna said. "I was just on my way to check on Deanna." She seemed to regain some degree of lucid thought. "Silly me, I left my room without a candle."

Jean-Luc had no such ready excuse. "I, uh . . . I don't have a candle either."

"I'll just," Lwaxanna sounded farther away, as though backing toward her room, "I'll just go get one."

"Yes, I'll, uh, . . . good night."

Embarrassed, Jean-Luc re-entered his bedroom and leaned against the inside of the door.

"That was quick."

The room was dark, but Jean-Luc glared in the direction of the voice. "I don't know if you realize how much you have in common with my wife."

"What?" Ro sounded worried.

"Your sense of humor."

"Oh."

"What did you think I meant?"

"Beverly!" Jean-Luc jumped at hearing her name called loudly out in the hall. "Beverly!" He recognized Will's voice and opened his door in time to see Beverly fly across the hall into Deanna's room with Will behind her saying, "She just started bleeding, really bad."

Worried, Jean-Luc stepped out into the hall. Kate came out of her room and, without noticing him, followed the others. "What can I do?"

"Go downstairs and get hot water and clean towels. In the kitchen, I have a pouch with raspberry leaves and some bark. Bring that up." Beverly poured a glass of water from the nearly empty pitcher and opened a dark-colored jar. She carefully allowed a few drops of a tincture into the water glass and began to stir it with a spoon. "Kate we'll need more cold water to drink, too. Wake up Guinan. Her room is next to the kitchen."

Receding into the shadows, Jean-Luc hid from Kate as she swung out the open doorway and down the stairs. The baby began to cry.

"Will, I need you to take William and go into my room. You can't help and you'll only be in the way here." Beverly issued orders as she fussed over Deanna.

The big man leaned over to kiss his wife, whisper, "I love you," and pick up his son.

"Walk around with him if he doesn't go right back to sleep." Beverly called out the advice without looking up from her patient.

In the hall, a worried Will passed Jean-Luc, intent on doing exactly as Beverly had instructed.

"Now, I want you to drink this whole glass."

Beverly sat down on the far side of the bead and helped support Deanna's shoulders. Hesitating in the doorway, Jean-Luc saw that the young woman's face looked pale and wet, her hair hanging in tangled ringlets down her shoulders. A pool of blood had collected and was visible where Beverly had lifted the quilt. He felt ashamed, trespassing on Deanna's privacy to steal a glimpse of Beverly.

Focused on helping Deanna, Beverly did not look up to see him. Although she wore an unassuming, long-sleeved and high-necked brown dress, which seemed to have been stained by her previous work this night, he thought she looked beautiful. Her tired face managed to convey both compassion and efficiency, as though she could simultaneously both hold Deanna gently and tend to her bleeding. She murmured softly and rubbed Deanna's back. He loved watching her help people. In her world of softness, of touching and healing people—very much the opposite of his own solitary realm of warfare—she shone.

When Deanna finished drinking the water, Beverly said, "Good," and looked up, suddenly able to see behind Deanna and the bed. "Jean-Luc," she gasped. He wore his gray uniform pants, with his white officer's shirt unbuttoned at the neck and his sleeves rolled up above his wrists—her thoughts raced to the things he did to her with those hands.

They caught each other's eyes.

Something passed between them, re-connecting them, grounding them. Exciting them.

Deanna felt it, too, a joyousness, and swiveled to find Jean-Luc staring at Beverly as if rooted to the spot.

When Jean-Luc noticed her looking at him, he blushed. "Oh, I'm, uh, I'm very sorry, Mrs. Riker. I'll leave." He bowed his head and took one step back.

Beverly kept her eyes on him, wishing that he could stay. "I—" She was not sure what to say to him, with so much that she wanted to tell him, yet so little time. She had to tend to Deanna and Kate could return at any moment. If only she could have held him and kissed him—that would have said it all.

Her one syllable was enough to stop him. He froze, with his hand on the doorjamb and only one leg still in the room, and looked at her expectantly. Even though the few feet and the circumstances separating them tortured him, he smiled at the sight of her.

"I love you," Jean-Luc said quietly. "I'll see you soon."

Beverly nodded, unable to speak. She felt Deanna's pulse in her wrist, around which Beverly's left hand was wrapped, and the beating brought her back to the task at hand. Trying to think quickly, she suggested, "Mid-morning. I should be free by mid-morning."

She watched as Jean-Luc nodded and backed out, her heart pining for him, her body beginning to react to the sight of him, but her mind returning to the urgency of stopping Deanna's womb from contracting.

Eager to leave the women alone to address whatever issue of female anatomy was causing the immediate crisis, Jean-Luc nevertheless paused outside the door to think of holding Beverly in his arms again. He heard someone on the stairs and quietly slipped back to his room to steal a few hours of sleep.

Beverly had Deanna lie down. She moved blankets and sheets around, took towels from Kate to sop up the blood. "Don't worry, we'll have this under control in no time," she soothed her friend, who did indeed appear to be calming. "It's a very common side effect of inducing labor that we can stop with a natural remedy."

Only hours, they both thought. We only need to wait a handful of hours before we will be together, mid-morning.