Beverly strode wearily into the captain's quarters on the Enterprise and leaned against the wall with a sigh.

Jean-Luc looked up from the padd he was reading and stood to greet her. "Good evening," his rich baritone voice was low and warm. "How was your talk with Deanna?"

Beverly sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Exasperating. It's still two months before the wedding and she already wants to know every detail. Everything from the color of the flowers to what name I'm going to take."

Jean-Luc raised an eyebrow. "And?"

She knew he wasn't asking about the color of the flowers. "And…" she looked down, toying with her uniform sleeve and wishing she hadn't brought up the subject. She'd been avoiding this conversation with him. It was likely to be a difficult one.

But it needed to be done.

She drew close to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "I would be honored to take your name, Jean-Luc," she said with deep sincerity, "But…I've decided to keep mine the way it is." She met his eyes firmly, steeling herself for an argument. She knew that, despite the difficult relationship he'd had with his brother, his ties to family ran deep. And the Picard name had been a source of pride in his ancestors for generations.

But his face was devoid of emotion. "I see," was all he said, his tone carefully neutral.

Beverly knew that look, that tone. It almost always meant he was concealing deeper feelings that he was loath to admit. "It's not because of Jack," she hastened to add, her fingers tightening on Jean-Luc's arm. She didn't want him for one instant to think that she wanted to keep her dead husband's name rather than take his own. That wasn't the issue at all. Rather it was that all her accomplishments, everything she'd achieved over the past quarter century as a physician and medical researcher, was associated with her current surname. "It's just –"

"That Dr. Beverly Crusher is the name with which you've built your professional reputation," he finished for her.

"Yes," she nodded, gazing at him in relief that he'd so readily understood her position. She really should have learned by now to never, ever underestimate this man. But she needed to know for certain that he truly accepted her wishes and wasn't simply putting her feelings before his own, as he was so often prone to do. "You really don't mind?"

He gave a slight, Gallic shrug. "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet," he quoted, his hazel eyes smiling into hers.

"Thank you, Jean-Luc," she breathed.

"You're welcome, Dr. Crusher," he replied, then drew her into his arms and kissed her with a passion that had her wishing her wedding day would come much, much sooner.

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