Beverly eyed her breakfast companion with ill-concealed irritation. After three weeks of hardly seeing him at all – intentionally on her part, it must be admitted – Jean-Luc had unexpectedly invited himself to breakfast in her quarters, and then he'd barely said two words to her all morning. She was still tired from handling the deluge of casualties from yesterday's collapse of the mine on Deneb V, and could have used the extra time this morning to catch up on her sleep instead of sitting here watching him push his food around his plate.
She took a last bite of pancake and was just about to pointedly excuse herself when he spoke.
"Lieutenant Commander Daren left the ship at Starbase 61."
When we stopped there three days ago. Oh. The bubble of emotion that welled up in her chest caught her unawares. She chewed slowly, struggling to prevent any sign of the relief and joy that was suddenly washing over her from reaching her face. Has she left for good, then? The note of finality – of resignation – in his voice, suggested so. She swallowed and gingerly inquired, "Transferred?"
"Yes. To the Isaac Newton."
The wave surged higher and she fought it down. "I see." Except I don't. Why didn't Deanna tell me? Maybe she didn't know, either… I wonder what happened. She sipped her coffee and patted her lips with her napkin, waiting – hoping – for him to elaborate.
He didn't.
"I'm sorry," she said into the yawning chasm of silence that had suddenly opened between them. "I know the two of you were…close."
Close. Yes, Jean-Luc and Nella Daren had been close, all right. How close, she really didn't want to think about. Although deep in her heart she knew.
And to all outward appearances things had been going well between the two of them. They seemed to spend all their free time in each other's company, and were often seen together at concerts and ship-wide events. Deanna had even told her a rumor they'd been heard playing duets in the Jefferies tubes.
Yet it was over between them now. Beverly suppressed the desire to sigh in release, as she suddenly felt lighter than she had in weeks. She was gone, and he was back here where he –
Back here. Three days after his lover had left him he was having breakfast with another woman? What am I, the rebound? Instantly her sense of relief evaporated in a flash of righteous anger.
Yet she knew at once that wasn't fair. Jean-Luc wasn't sitting here at her table looking for romance, but for commiseration and companionship while he came to grips with his loss. How was he to know that the person he'd chosen to come to was someone who was having trouble mustering any sympathy, and who didn't want to hear the details of what had happened because she sometimes couldn't help wondering how it would feel to have what Nella Daren had.
Dear lord this is awkward. Why couldn't he have gone to Deanna instead?
Jean-Luc still sat staring at his plate, enshrouded in that singular stillness that he sometimes wore like a cloak, protective and impenetrable to even the most solicitous inquiry.
He looks so forlorn. Whatever did happen, he doesn't deserve this.
"I am sorry, Jean-Luc," she repeated finally, certain this time that there was at least some truth in the statement. However secretly relieved she might be feeling about the situation, she was also sad to see him so obviously suffering.
His eyes lifted to met hers and he shook his head. The strained expression on his face told her as clearly as if she were reading the words on a page that he was growing just as uncomfortable as she was. And was beginning to regret that he'd come.
Sure enough, his next words were, "It is I who should apologize. I thought I could…" His voice trailed off in a low sigh. "But I'm not fit company this morning and I shouldn't have come."
It was a startling admission from such a reticent man, and she watched in growing dismay as he set his napkin on the table and started to rise. In another moment he would be gone. And if he went now…somehow she knew that their mornings of easy camaraderie and gentle friendship would be over forever.
Well, she wasn't about to let that happen. These breakfasts were – he was – far too important to her. She set down her own napkin and leaned forward. "Jean-Luc, wait. I know you're having a hard time right now…ending a relationship is a painful experience for anyone. Even a starship captain." She gave him a wry smile and was relieved to see a flash of response in his eyes as he settled back into his chair. "But I'm glad you came…"
She extended her hand along the table in his direction, open, inviting. He gazed down at her outstretched palm and, after a brief hesitation, placed his fingers lightly in her own.
Beverly curled her fingers around his, trying to ignore the warm rush that surged through her at the touch. She so rarely reached out to him like this, afraid it would lead her to want more. "I want you to know I'm here for you, Jean-Luc," she whispered softly, echoing words that he'd spoken to her not so very long ago, after her own heart had been broken… I remember how it feels, and no matter how I felt about you and Nella, I won't let you hide away and lick your wounds alone. "I know it's hard now – but it will get easier. You just have to give it time."
She squeezed the hand she held, gently, in a silent gesture of comfort and support. Wishing she dared risk doing more. "And in the meantime you need to lean on the people who care about you. So I'm glad you came this morning. You're welcome any time, I hope you know that," she added on impulse, then winced internally, hoping he wouldn't be put off by the unintended innuendo in her ill-conceived choice of words.
But he smiled a little and his fingers tightened their grip on hers. "Thank you, Beverly. That means a great deal to me."
To me too, she thought. I'm glad you're back here with me. I've missed you, Jean-Luc. More than you know.
#
