It's me again! I couldn't resist continuing this story - hopefully you're enjoying it too? Drop me a line and tell me what you think - I would be much obliged.
When she saw him, she was rushing to one of the ORs. As she rounded a corner, from the corner of her eye, she saw 'him'. It was undoubtedly him. The uniform, the same height, the same shape to his head, his remaining hair exactly the length it had been when she'd said that last tearful goodbye. She'd frozen in her tracks, causing the flock of trainee medics to crash into each other at the sudden halt.
She'd stood, watching as he continued on his way, unaware of her presence. She opened her mouth, started to form the shape of his name. Then he'd turned in her direction, drawn by some sort of sixth sense at the intensity of her attention. He'd locked eyes with hers, a small polite smile his first instinct. She snapped her mouth shut then, remembered to breathe again, and returned the smile.
It wasn't him, of course it wasn't. He'd been gone for a year and a half, officially dead for six. It wouldn't ever be him.
She missed him with a yearning ache. She longed to be with him, to feel his warmth, breathe in his scent, touch his skin. She wanted nothing more than for him to wrap his arms around her, hold her; warm, solid, strong. When she allowed herself a moment to dwell, the pain of her loss was physical and overwhelming.
She shook her head, nodded at the stranger, who, now she could see his face properly, could never have been him. His features were soft and rounded, nothing like the angular plains that made Jean-Luc so eye-catching. He returned the nod and continued on his way. She wondered briefly if he might think of this odd moment later on, when he was at home. Maybe he'd share the story, part of the minutia of his day with his wife, his children…
"Doctor Howard?" A small uncertain voice nudged her.
"Oh yes. Of course, where was I?" she said. Then she continued her explanation of the surgery they were about to witness. Her charges hanging on her every word.
When she returned to an empty home later on, she showered, changed, and poured a decent sized glass of wine. She went out to the deck in the back garden, watched as the sun set blazed for her in the direction of the far side of the island.
When anybody asked, she was reassuring. She was doing fine, getting used to it. The fact that Jean-Luc's death had coincided with Theodore being at university, and Louis's final year of the lycée was making her solitude double-down on its impact. She was alone more often than not. Louis had been making some poor choices of late, he was staying out, partying too hard. She put it down to losing his father, and to the fact that he was more like the rambunctious Jean-Luc than his father would care to have admitted. Something in him refused to be tethered, refused to settle. He was dropping his grades, and part of her was almost glad; it meant he would be around for another year before he'd be able to get on with the next part of his education.
Theodore was doing well. When it came to late teen years, she was a big fan of the little known the better. What she didn't know, couldn't possibly hurt her. Still, he had come home each month, diligently called her every week. His grades were excellent. Whatever else he was up to on Lunar was his own business.
Suddenly, a deep voice called out from the hallway, "Maman?"
"Out here Louis."
It took him a minute to work his way through the house. "I thought you were still at work?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, is 0700 to 2100 not a long enough shift Sir?" she replied, smiling.
"Maman…" he said instantly regretting his poor phrase. "I brought a few friends back, is that okay? We were studying… there's a test tomorrow."
"Sure honey, no problem. Want me to replicate some pizza?"
"Thank you." He said. Then he leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. "It won't be late, promise."
"As long as at least a little studying gets done…" Then she stood, heading to the kitchen. On her way she clocked three of Louis's friends she vaguely recognised. He and Ted had had a very stable childhood. They'd managed to stay in schools with more or less the same children they'd started with. Nothing like Wes…
In the end, she'd had to turf them out once it got to eleven. She was dog-tired, and she knew Louis had school the next day, as well as a supposed test.
He'd begrudgingly said goodbye then dragged himself off to bed. She'd locked the house up, and made her own way to her bedroom. She'd gone through the motions, washed her face, brushed her teeth and hair without letting her mind think beyond the mundane actions of her ablutions. Then she'd climbed into bed, pulling the duvet up around her.
It was the quiet that got to her. She was alone, in their huge room, in their big house. Jean-Luc had always been there, she'd always just known he was there. He was a quiet presence, a reassuringly solid companion. As soon as they'd bunked together once he'd been recovering on Earth, in those early days of getting to know each other's habits, wants, needs, she'd noticed immediately how easy he was to be around. He'd been biddable, sure he'd had his odd foibles, things she'd caught him doing, but as far as sharing their bed, their private moments, the bathroom, he was up there with the best of roommates. She longed to trip over his discarded boots one more time. Of course, he'd long been one of her favourite people in the universe. Sharing her life with him had been a joy, a daily joy. God, she missed him.
She'd tossed and turned, tried her best to sleep. Her mind was doing its best to bring its more painful memories of him to her attention. She remembered all those times when they'd happened upon each other on the Enterprise, those unexpected and seemingly random times that they'd found themselves in the same place, out of uniform, using their own rec time. She'd happened across him in the gym, sweat-soaked, wearing shorts and vest. He'd been lifting weights and she'd watched him for a moment unseen. He was relaxed, focused, engaged in physical activity that made him forget about being in command just for that moment. He had been so attractive… Then the times he'd called her out, there'd been arguments through the years, of course. Her hot temper forcing him to an uncomfortable confrontation. Once they'd argued about his socks…
Eventually, she'd given up, gone downstairs for camomile tea.
On the landing, she'd stopped dead, frozen at the sound of someone moving around.
She stood exactly where she was. She held her breath, crouched down into a ready pose, hands in position as per Worf's Mok Barra class. Every fibre of her being primed and ready to defend her territory, years of training kicking in before she'd even had a chance to think.
Light crept from under the bathroom door. She heard footsteps reaching the threshold of the door separating her from the assailant.
Steadily, steadily, the moment of confrontation drew closer. The handle turned, the door opened inward, a shadowy figure stepped out into the hallway…
"Stop right there. Lights."
At that moment, the figure clapped hands over its mouth and froze in place too.
The lights came up and Beverly was presented with the figure of a young woman wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and tiny panties. "Oh…"
"Doctor Howard!" the young woman whispered hoarsely. "I'm sorry… I… I…" she stuttered.
Beverly relaxed her position, crossed her arms. "Louis?"
"Maman? What..? I'm asleep" he grumbled. She could hear him getting out of bed, padding across his room to the door. The girl stayed frozen in position, like a rabbit in headlights. Beverly kept her eyes fixed firmly on her.
Eventually, after an awkward silence, he stepped into the hallway himself. "Oh…"
"Busted young man."
"I… I uh…"
"No need Louis. Turn around, get yourself dressed, and kindly drive your friend home. Now."
Both Louis and his companion rushed into his room flapping about and getting themselves dressed in total silence.
In a matter of seconds, a sheepish Louis reappeared on the landing. "Maman… it's not what you think."
"Oh? And tell me, what is it, exactly, that I am thinking?"
He dropped his head, mortified. "I'll take her home now."
"I am going back to bed, as will you once you return. We will discuss this when I get home from work tomorrow."
"Désolé Maman."
"Tomorrow." She repeated, closing her bedroom door firmly behind her.
