Jean Luc Picard sat at a large round table in the center of one of his favorite Earth restaurants. He remembered the many awkward first dates he had had here as a teenager, and hoped that this evening wasn't going to be just another blot on that page. True, this was no first date; his companion was an old Academy friend who was now married and the mother of three children, but that did nothing to quell the queasiness in his stomach.

Ever since last night, he had been unable to get Cadet Crusher's beautiful companion out of his mind. She had haunted his dreams, and today he had been first distracted searching for her in the crowd, and then disappointed upon finding she was not there. He had casually inquired Crusher as to her welfare, and the two had struck up an amiable conversation. Before long, he felt himself enjoying the company of this young man and his friend, Cadet Walker Keel. Now his feelings were a confused jumble. He felt not only passion, but guilt for having this passion. Still, a man cannot help what he dreams.

He promised himself that this would be the last time. He would see her here, tonight, in the company of Jack Crusher, and he would forever etch her into his memory in that context. He would see the way they cared so deeply for each other, and it would serve to balm the wounds upon his own heart. He would think of her no more after tonight.

Suddenly, there she was. Standing tall and proud next to Crusher, she looked to Picard like a magnificent angel fallen from heaven. Jack's angel, he reminded himself rather harshly. The dreamy façade quickly melted away, and he replaced it with the "captain's mask" of detachment that he so often wore. Crusher waved, and he nodded curtly. Best to get this over with quickly, he thought to himself.

"Good evening, Sir," said Crusher. "I believe you remember my date, Cadet Beverly Howard. And Cadet Keel's companion, Cadet Tafton Hosgerb." Picard, who was now standing as a matter of formal courtesy, nodded once again. Beverly reached across the table and shook his hand. A jolt of electricity made its way down his spine.

The four cadets pulled their chairs up to the table, looking over their menus. Picard tried his best not to look at Beverly, and turned so that his face was completely obscure to her as he talked to his date, Lieutenant Hewlett. Finally, he could stand it no longer. He wanted desperately to look, but at the same time did not want to be caught looking. He turned his head around slowly, making a tremendous effort to be subtle. As is often the case however, He only succeeded in being more obvious than ever. He didn't realize that he was staring until Jack cleared his throat. Mortified not so much b his action but by being caught, he looked away, pretending to look over his own menu. The words were meaningless to him. This encounter was turning out to be a lot more difficult than he had originally planned.

At last, the waiter saved him. He breathed deeply as the others placed their orders, and was shocked when Beverly's order was the same as his own, including her wine selection. That's meaningless, he told himself as his mind clicked with excitement. It's just a coincidence, really. Think of how many millions of people have visited this restaurant over the past two hundred years. You can't be the only one that has ever ordered this dish. If you were, it wouldn't be on the menu. Still, even though Picard did not really believe in the concepts of fate or destiny, certain things tickled his mind and set off alarms. This was one of them.

With considerable effort, he pulled his mind back to reality, where Beverly was still Jack Crusher's girlfriend, and questioned the two young men before him about their pasts, and about what their hopes were for the future. In his mind, he catalogued their responses, and grew increasingly pleased with this informal evaluation as the evening wore on. In fact, by the time they were ready to leave, he had almost convinced himself that he had found two fine officers who would be eligible to come aboard in a few short months to replace his red headed problem. Almost.

As the four cadets prepared to leave, Picard couldn't help but shamelessly indulge himself just one time. He knew it was wrong, but still his heart won over his mind. He shook Keel's hand, and then Crusher's. Than he kissed Tafton perfuctitorilly on the cheek, for the soul purpose of being able to do the same to Beverly. When his lips brushed her skin, he felt a rush to his head such as he had never felt before. The part of him that was more human than officer wanted the effects to last forever, but the part of him that was the distinguished Captain Picard had more sense than this part. He quickly pulled away, nodded, and turned to leave, grateful that he had made it through the experience with as much dignity as he had. Suddenly a pleasant voice called to him from over his shoulder. "Captain Picard?"

"Yes?" He cursed himself for smiling as broadly as he had when she spoke his name. His expression immediately reverted to the dour and humorless one we was so known for.

"Perhaps he just misunderstood, but Jack told me that you were planning on showing us your family vineyards. If it wouldn't be too much trouble, I would still enjoy seeing them. Sir," She added the last word almost as an afterthought.

"Beverly," Jack hissed under his breath. "Shut up." He gave her a withering look, but she appeared not to notice.

Merde, thought Picard. He had forgotten about the promised tour. It would be easy enough to escape his invitation by making his excuses, but the pout Beverly had on her pink lips was irresistible. "It's all right Mr. Crusher, I believe Ms. Howard was quite correct. And no, Ms. Howard, it would be no trouble at all."

Beverly shot Jack a brief but intensely smug smile. "Thank you, Captain," she smiled. "Please, lead the way."

Picard took a deep breath and did as he was told