"You know, I was hoping I'd be able to stay a bit longer this time." Hefting his small travel bag onto one shoulder as he prepared to return briefly to Rios's ship before leaving, Picard followed his onetime first officer outside onto the porch. The grass was wet with dew as they stepped down into the yard, the first rays of sunlight breaking over the treetops. He took a deep breath of cool morning air. "This a beautiful place, Will."

"But not as nice as Chateau Picard?" Riker suggested. He slowed to a stop, sipped from his stainless steel coffee mug.

Picard shook his head and cast a meaningful glance up at the sky. "Or up there," he said.

"Right." The taller man smiled in understanding. "I told you I thought you should never have retired."

"So you did. And now I suppose I am officially unretired."

"Meanwhile, I'd like to go back to being on reserve, Ambassador." Riker lifted his mug, a twinkle in his eye. "But you can always call if you wind up in the middle of another interstellar incident."

Picard chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind, Captain." He embraced him, then hesitated instead of tapping his combadge. "I should thank you again, Will," he said at last. "I very much doubt that Beverly would have agreed to see me again without your help."

"I'd say you're welcome, but it wasn't me," Riker admitted, shaking his head. "Still, I'm glad you came. You're both very important to me—to us."

Smiling in appreciation, Picard drew in a breath and glanced skyward again. "We shall see how the next days go," he murmured to himself.

Riker couldn't have imagined two days earlier that it could be anything but fraught, but he supposed the chances were better now than at any time since the Enterprise, and the thought cheered him. Baby steps, he'd told Picard on his last visit; but after all that had happened since, he felt that his friend was in fact leaps and bounds beyond where he'd been. He clapped the older man warmly on the shoulder. "Safe travels, Jean-Luc."

Waiting until the other had dematerialized from the yard, Riker headed back inside, reflective. Having spent more than half his life on starships, it still felt strange, sometimes, to be rooted in one place, only occasionally receiving visitors instead of visiting countless new worlds himself. It was easy to be the itinerant traveler, always looking forward to the next adventure. It was altogether different when the travelers left you, when the quietness swept away by chatter and activity drifted back in to settle in around the homestead. It wasn't unpleasant, at least not since those first months after Thad's death, when the quietness had seemed suffocating in its weight; it was better now. The beautiful land, the security of their home, and the company of his little family really were all he desired—as his excursion to the Ghulion system and confrontation with the Romulans had only served to remind him.

But the goodbyes, like the one he'd just said, could still be bittersweet—and even more so, he knew, for his daughter, who latched on to new visitors with an eagerness that made his heart ache. With Lwaxana, of course, who had lost none of her formidability in all the many years Riker had known her—her departures still felt like a force of nature sweeping through and out of the house, leaving Kestra deflated to see her grandmother go. When Soji had left weeks ago, after making such a strong connection with Kestra, they'd all missed her unique presence. And Beverly, with her favorite-aunt status, was always so happily welcomed to their home that Kestra would be noticeably downbeat for a few days after she would leave—a feeling Riker had to admit he shared.

But it was time to say that goodbye now, as well.

"All set?" he asked, setting his mug down on the dining room table as he walked across to the front of the house, where Kestra was putting some papers in the top of one of Beverly's bags while the doctor shrugged on an ivory knit cardigan. Deanna, looking reassuringly well-rested even though she had risen early with the rest of the household, stood to one side, and threaded her fingers through his as he approached.

"All set," Beverly said. She wasn't a short woman, but still had to rise on her toes to kiss his cheek. "I was just saying how wonderful it was being here."

"Well, that's a relief. Good host status confirmed."

She smirked at him, but must have seen that he wasn't entirely joking, because her expression softened. "Really, it was," she assured him.

Too late, he saw that Kestra hadn't missed anything about the exchange—but as he opened his mouth to deflect her, she ignored him, blue eyes focused intently on Beverly. "So you weren't mad at Mom and Dad about Admiral Picard coming?"

Beverly took the blunt question in stride, asking mildly, "Did I seem like I was?"

"Well, maybe at first."

Riker winced mentally and shot a pointed look at Deanna, but she shrugged, signaling him to let it go.

"I'm not upset," Beverly said with a patient smile. "It's true that I didn't want to see him at first, but…I suppose sometimes our friends know us better than we know ourselves."

Kestra nodded and glanced furtively at her parents. "Well, they all seemed happy about it."

The captain folded her arms. "But not me?"

Kestra studied her for a moment. "You're happy with us," she decided. "But I'm still not sure if you are about Admiral Picard. But why—"

"Kestra," Riker broke in finally, stepping forward. He wasn't opposed to having honest conversations, but there was a time and place—and a little wisdom involved in recognizing them. "Part of being a good host, my dear, is not making your guests uncomfortable." He caught himself. "Unless you've been friends with them for thirty years and you think it's necessary," he amended ruefully, and Kestra's indignant expression turned satisfied.

Beverly laughed out loud and pulled her niece into a hug. "Young lady, you are pretty perceptive, you know that? It must run in the family. Can you take my bags over to the shuttle? Go on now, I'll be right behind you."

"Sure."

"Thanks." As the teen trotted out into the field, Beverly glanced between Will and Deanna, her amusement evident. "Right. I'm going to head out now and avoid further uncomfortable questions from all members of the Troi-Riker household."

Riker accepted the rebuke with a sheepish look, though he didn't apologize, nor did he believe she really meant for him to; thirty years of friendship did buy some leeway, and it went both ways. Besides, he knew it had been for the good this time—even if some uncertainty still lay on the journey ahead. "At least you can't complain about the room and board."

The smirk returned at his teasing tone. "Nepenthe: come for the pizza, stay for the personal questioning," she said dryly. Then she paused and ran a hand across her face with a wistful sigh, glancing out across the sunny yard.

"Beverly," Deanna said, gently prodding her, and the redhead glanced back, smiled ruefully: "I know, I know, it will be fine. We talked about it."

"Call after?"

"Oh, you'll hear about it, either way," Beverly promised. She smiled again at both of them. "Bye."

Within minutes the shuttle was lifting from the ground, a shadow crossing over them briefly as it disappeared into the brightening sky. Riker felt Deanna lean against him and he pulled her comfortably closer, looking down to find a hopefulness in her eyes. Imzadi, he sent wordlessly.

"It's better now," she said softly, and he understood.

#-#-#-#

The blue sky dimmed steadily to black, the straight line of the horizon bending downwards in a perfect curve until it passed out of sight beneath her and the forward view was full of stars. Beverly maneuvered the Valencia into orbit alongside La Sirena, transmitted transport coordinates to the larger vessel, and waited.

"Picard to Crusher."

The words, an echo from decades past, sent an odd shiver through her body. She shook it off and took a steadying breath, then touched the comm panel to reply. "Crusher here. Go ahead."

"One to beam aboard."

"Acknowledged. Initiating transport now." A few key sequences on the control panel, and as she turned and rose from her seat Jean-Luc materialized in the aft section of the cockpit. His eyes found hers immediately, and she smiled and spoke into the quiet.

"Welcome aboard."