"What the hell were you thinking," Walker asked Picard once they were in the safety of their own quarters. "I can't believe I just saw that. How much did you have to drink, anyway?"

"I wasn't drunk," Picard said. It would have been easier to simply say he was, to lie his way out of this situation. He knew he could trust his friend, though. He knew Walker wouldn't repeat the things he said to Jack. He didn't really want to talk, but, somewhere deep down within him, it was as though his conscience was forcing him to.

"I love her," he said. Not quite meeting Walker's gaze.

"Yeah," Walker smiled wistily, "she's great isn't she. How could you not love her."

Picard, who could have stopped there, pretending it was primal hormones that had gotten the better of him, pressed on. "No, Walker, I don't think you understand. I love her. I am totally in love with her. She's the first thing that I think of when I wake up in the morning, and the last thing on my mind when I slip off to bed. I try not to think of her, but I can't stop. At first I thought it was hormonal, rather than emotional, but as time went on I came to see that it was more, so much more than that."

Walker was silent for a moment. "Oh shit Picard," he said when he finally spoke again. "She's his wife for Christ's sake. You can't love her like that and be his best friend. It's just not allowed. It's not right."

Picard said nothing.

"You have to tell her," Walker said. "You have to let it out in the open how you feel. She'll shut you down and bring you to your senses. You have to, Jean Luc. It's the only way."

* * * * *

Beverly Crusher wasn't sleeping very well. She lay there, her feeling tearing her up inside as she looked at her sleeping husband snoring peacefully on the pillow beside her. How could she have done that to him? And with Jean Luc Picard, no less. Why did she feel this way, all of the sudden.

She remembered that moment, earlier in the evening. She and Jack had been eating a late dinner, and for a moment, her attention had lapsed. It was as though something had happened in that blink of an eye. After her momentary disorientation, she wasn't the same person she used to be. Something about her was different.

She walked to the mirror in the bathroom, turned on the light, and peered at her sleep-deprived reflection. Something was different. Something she couldn't quite put a finger on… There, the eyes. Those eyes were old, tired, and sad, as though they'd seen a lot of things they'd rather have not and were incapable of finding peace in the wake of any of them. She blinked and shook her head, she must be imagining things. She thought of waking Jack to tell him, but her reflection having different eyes seemed a very silly notion, and Beverly Crusher was not a silly woman.

* * * * *

Jack never found out about what happened that night. Walker was as silently loyal as Picard had hoped for him to be, and neither the captain nor Beverly had any plans to tell Jack what had happened that night.

Walker, however, wouldn't let it go.

"Did you talk to her," he asked his roommate as the two of them chatted over lunch.

"Not yet," Picard admitted. He really had no plans to, and hoped that Walker would forget before the three men shipped out again in two weeks. Knowing Walker Keel he doubted it, but it was worth a try.

"Tonight, then," Keel said firmly.

"Oh no," Picard said, "I don't think that tonight is a good time. Do you seriously expect me to have this discussion with her in front of Jack?"

"No," Walker countered. "That's why tonight is a perfect time. Jack's briefing for our upcoming mission is at 1800 hours. Beverly will be alone for at least an hour."

Picard blanched slightly. Alone, with Beverly? He wasn't sure if he could handle it.

"I'll come with you if you like," Walker offered.

"No, no that's quite all right," Picard said, wishing his true feelings reflected his words.