It was dark again when Beverly awoke, not yet pitch, black again, but still
too dark to see anything more than shadows. She looked around, trying to
figure out where she was. Her head throbbed, and it hurt to keep her eyes
open. Slowly, her mind cleared, and she remembered what had happened. She
felt someone's arms around her.
"Jean-Luc?" she asked.
Just then the door opened again, flooding the room with the light from the
lantern. Beverly gasped, and quickly shut her eyes, involuntarily shrinking
from whoever was holding the light. She felt Jean-Luc tighten his grip on
her, then relax as he apparently recognized who it was.
"Bonjour, Monsieur, Madame." the girl said, setting down a tray. What
she said next was lost to the Doctor, who recognized it as French, but
nothing more.
"Oui, Merci." Jean-Luc replied.
"What did she say?" Beverly asked, sitting up.
He smiled, obviously relieved to see her awake, "She asked if we
wanted something to eat," he translated. The girl asked him a
question. "[My wife doesn't speak French]," he replied in that
language.
"I wish we had our UT's." Beverly muttered, "I can't understand a
thing either of you are saying."
"I think she's wondering the same thing. She doesn't speak a word of
English. I was just explaining that you don't speak French."
"It's on my list of things to do when we get back to the ship." she smiled.
"[My name is Miia, what are yours?]" the girl asked. "[I'm Jean-Luc, and this is Beverly.]" he replied. "She wanted to know what our names are." he translated. "Hers is Miia." "Nice to meet you, Miia." Beverly smiled. Picard repeated her sentence in French. "Have you lived here all your life?" "[Yes, my mother was born here as well. My father came as a teenager.]" she replied, after the question had been translated. It made for a slow conversation, but neither party minded. "[Father returned to his patrol, so we don't have to worry too much about him.]" Beverly looked at her curiously. "Her father is the one who's actually keeping us here." the Captain explained. "From what I've gathered, he's quite strict." he added, his tone explaining more than his words. "I see," the Doctor replied. "[Do you have any children?]" Miia asked. Picard stammered, hoping the dim lighting, prevented either female from seeing the color rise in his cheeks. He had thought it harmless to let her assume, but if Beverly found out.... "What did she say, Jean-Luc?" Beverly asked. "She wants to know if either us has a family." he replied, thinking quickly. He hoped she didn't notice the nervousness in his voice. "I have a son named Wesley." Beverly told the girl. "[A son named Wesley.]" Picard translated. He never thought he would actually claim Jack's son, but he hoped his dead best friend wouldn't mind. The girl's mother called down the stairs in a jumble of languages neither Starfleet officer could translate. Miia replied the same way. "[I have to go. May Saint Ashtoreth bless you.]" she replied quickly, then dashed up the stairs, leaving the lantern behind. It took Captain Picard a few moments to understand what she said. Ashtoreth, it was a name he recognized. An ancient goddess he had learned about in a mythology class at the Academy, a goddess of ..... marriage and fertility..... "What did she say?" Beverly asked. "She left food, it's getting cold." Jean-Luc replied, evasively. "What did she say?" she asked again, with a small smile. What would make him so nervous? she wondered. "Nothing important, just that she had to leave." he lied, and not all that well. He tried to change the subject, "How's your head?" "Fine. I told you a little sleep would fix it." Beverly grinned, flirtatiously, "Now tell me what else she said." "Nothing." "You're hiding something, Jean-Luc..." she teased. "Never." he replied. "Yes, you are. I don't speak French, but I know it doesn't take that many words to say 'I have to leave'. Now what did she say?" "It isn't important." he countered. "Then why won't you say what it is?" "Because... well..." he stammered. "It isn't important!" "If it isn't important, that don't make a big deal about it." she grinned. "I'm not." he protested. "Yes you are." "But I'll never hear the end of it!" he exclaimed, exasperatedly. Beverly could tell he immediately regretted saying it. "Why not?" "I just won't, It doesn't matter. I outrank you anyway." he almost pouted. "Oh? but you won't hear the end of it if you don't tell me." she pointed out. "I could order you to drop it." he mock-threatened. "And what if I don't?" she replied, leaning closer to him. "You can't exactly throw me in the brig." "Oh...." he replied, thoughtfully, "I'll think of something." "You're getting off the point. What did she say?" "Fine!" he replied, pretending to be exasperated. He prayed the Academy had dropped that Freshman Mythology class sometime in the nineteen years after he took it. "She said she hoped that .... Saint Ashtoreth would bless us." "Oh, really?" She barely held back a laugh. With a sinking feeling, Picard realized they hadn't. "Now was that so hard?" Inwardly she thought, I wonder if that can be arranged...
**(*)**
"[My name is Miia, what are yours?]" the girl asked. "[I'm Jean-Luc, and this is Beverly.]" he replied. "She wanted to know what our names are." he translated. "Hers is Miia." "Nice to meet you, Miia." Beverly smiled. Picard repeated her sentence in French. "Have you lived here all your life?" "[Yes, my mother was born here as well. My father came as a teenager.]" she replied, after the question had been translated. It made for a slow conversation, but neither party minded. "[Father returned to his patrol, so we don't have to worry too much about him.]" Beverly looked at her curiously. "Her father is the one who's actually keeping us here." the Captain explained. "From what I've gathered, he's quite strict." he added, his tone explaining more than his words. "I see," the Doctor replied. "[Do you have any children?]" Miia asked. Picard stammered, hoping the dim lighting, prevented either female from seeing the color rise in his cheeks. He had thought it harmless to let her assume, but if Beverly found out.... "What did she say, Jean-Luc?" Beverly asked. "She wants to know if either us has a family." he replied, thinking quickly. He hoped she didn't notice the nervousness in his voice. "I have a son named Wesley." Beverly told the girl. "[A son named Wesley.]" Picard translated. He never thought he would actually claim Jack's son, but he hoped his dead best friend wouldn't mind. The girl's mother called down the stairs in a jumble of languages neither Starfleet officer could translate. Miia replied the same way. "[I have to go. May Saint Ashtoreth bless you.]" she replied quickly, then dashed up the stairs, leaving the lantern behind. It took Captain Picard a few moments to understand what she said. Ashtoreth, it was a name he recognized. An ancient goddess he had learned about in a mythology class at the Academy, a goddess of ..... marriage and fertility..... "What did she say?" Beverly asked. "She left food, it's getting cold." Jean-Luc replied, evasively. "What did she say?" she asked again, with a small smile. What would make him so nervous? she wondered. "Nothing important, just that she had to leave." he lied, and not all that well. He tried to change the subject, "How's your head?" "Fine. I told you a little sleep would fix it." Beverly grinned, flirtatiously, "Now tell me what else she said." "Nothing." "You're hiding something, Jean-Luc..." she teased. "Never." he replied. "Yes, you are. I don't speak French, but I know it doesn't take that many words to say 'I have to leave'. Now what did she say?" "It isn't important." he countered. "Then why won't you say what it is?" "Because... well..." he stammered. "It isn't important!" "If it isn't important, that don't make a big deal about it." she grinned. "I'm not." he protested. "Yes you are." "But I'll never hear the end of it!" he exclaimed, exasperatedly. Beverly could tell he immediately regretted saying it. "Why not?" "I just won't, It doesn't matter. I outrank you anyway." he almost pouted. "Oh? but you won't hear the end of it if you don't tell me." she pointed out. "I could order you to drop it." he mock-threatened. "And what if I don't?" she replied, leaning closer to him. "You can't exactly throw me in the brig." "Oh...." he replied, thoughtfully, "I'll think of something." "You're getting off the point. What did she say?" "Fine!" he replied, pretending to be exasperated. He prayed the Academy had dropped that Freshman Mythology class sometime in the nineteen years after he took it. "She said she hoped that .... Saint Ashtoreth would bless us." "Oh, really?" She barely held back a laugh. With a sinking feeling, Picard realized they hadn't. "Now was that so hard?" Inwardly she thought, I wonder if that can be arranged...
**(*)**
