Beverly Crusher came home early from the hospital that day. Two voices were raised in argument, two voices she knew quite well: her husband and her friend, Vraina Londo. It was obvious they hadn't heard her come in. Beverly hesitated on the doorstep, uncertain as to whether she should make her presence known or leave and let the two of them thrash it out. Whatever "it" was, this time. Their relationship had always been based on good-natured ribbing and name-calling, but the arguing she was hearing now sounded far from friendly; apparently things had gotten out of hand.

While she hesitated, the voices grew louder. "Jack Crusher, I have been waiting for six months for you to dump her! When are you going to do it? You promised!"

Beverly froze at those words. Vraina paced back and forth angrily in the living room, moving in and out of Beverly's sight. She couldn't see Jack, but he wasn't the type to pace. The fact that he'd even raised his voice was an indication of just how upset he was.

"Vraina, we've been over this. I can't just dump her. It would hurt her terribly. You have to let me break it to her gently. This isn't the sort of thing you just terminate overnight-"

"You've been saying that for six months, Jackie-boy," Vraina snapped sarcastically. "And saying it, and saying it. How gentle do you have to be? She's a big girl, she can handle it. If you don't do it," she added threateningly, "I will!"

There was complete silence for a moment, then Jack said something in a low voice that Beverly couldn't quite make out. Vraina's response was a contemptuous snort. She moved back into Beverly's range of vision as she stormed unexpectedly toward the living room entrance. "Come on, Jack, I won't wait forever-" she snarled, then stopped abruptly, her face flushing, as she saw Beverly standing in the doorway. "Bev! What are you doing home so early?"

Beverly shook her head slowly, disbelievingly, moving her gaze from Vraina to Jack, as he heard the other woman's words and came running to the front hall, a guilty expression on his face. "I don't believe this," Beverly said numbly. Jack was trying to say something, but she didn't hear him as she stumbled backwards, out the door, finally turning and running down the street, back to the transporter station she'd just left.

"Jack tried to follow me," Crusher continued softly. She was prowling around the perimeter of the office, looking everywhere except at Jean-Luc Picard, who was still sitting stiffly in front of Pulaski's desk, too stunned to move. "I heard him calling me, but I just kept going. I was too upset to listen to him. I wound up at my friend Sandi's house later that evening, told her everything, and asked her if I could stay there while I put in for a separation."

"I never knew the full story," Picard said. He was trying to keep his voice carefully neutral, but Crusher could hear the unsteadiness that told her how upset he really was. Deservedly so, she reminded herself. She was lucky he was taking it as well as he apparently was. "Jack merely said that you were having problems, and I certainly felt no need to press him for details. Apparently," he added bitterly, "that was an error on my part."

Crusher winced as that shot hit home, then continued speaking, determined to finish it as quickly as possible. "I know what I heard was circumstantial, but it sounded very much like a lover's quarrel to me, that Vraina was pushing Jack to get rid of me. So I put in for a separation and termination of our marriage contract as quickly as possible. I refused to so much as speak to either of them the entire month before Pat's party. I never would have gone," she added, "if Sandi hadn't talked me into it. She said it would do me some good to stop hiding out." Her lips twisted wryly. "So I decided to hell with Jack Crusher; I was going to have a good time, to prove to him and myself that I didn't need him. But I compromised on the `hiding out' bit; I wore a costume that practically guaranteed no one would recognize me, and I swore Sandi to secrecy. I hate to admit it, but by the time you showed up, I was, to borrow an old phrase, 'sloshed to the gills'."

Picard grimaced. "I was already rather inebriated myself; I had run into John Dzialo-my first roommate from the Academy, of all people-earlier that evening and we went to more than one bar together, reliving old times. Which is why I hardly remember anything that happened that night."

Crusher stopped by the window, staring unseeingly at the skyline. "When you showed up, something just...clicked. I have always felt a...certain attraction to you," she confessed, her eyes still firmly fixed on an invisible spot on the horizon. "And you were Jack's commanding officer, his friend. I thought he'd been sleeping with my friend; somehow, it seemed...eminently logical that I sleep with you." She looked over at him, then turned away in shame. "I used you. I knew you didn't recognize me, that you were intrigued by me. I took advantage of that attraction. The next day, when I woke up, I felt so...ashamed. Which is why I just slipped away. I held my breath for a week, waiting for you to confront me, to say something. But you never did."

"I cannot believe I didn't recognize you," Picard murmured. "All I remember is waking up with the worst hangover I'd had since graduating from the Academy." Another grimace stretched his lips. "John was rather good at helping me wake up with those." His voice hardened. "What happened next?"

"At the end of the week, when it became obvious to me that you had no idea who you'd taken home, I finally contacted Jack," the doctor continued her story. "We sat down and had a long talk-about the fact that Vraina was supposed to take over the management of some property Jack's family owned in Arizona. The woman running the place was a complete incompetent, but she was his cousin, and he was reluctant to fire her." She smiled briefly. "Jack had a strong sense of family, not always to his advantage. Vraina wanted the job so she could be close to her own relatives. Jack had asked her not to talk about it until he had all the details set." Another tiny smile. "He was worried that I'd be upset about Vraina leaving, since we were so close. When Jack told me this-and Vraina confirmed it, after yelling at me for not letting her explain-I felt like a complete idiot. Jack had done absolutely nothing, but I had gone off half-cocked and almost destroyed our marriage because I wasn't willing to listen to him."

"You never told him about our...indiscretion?" Picard asked delicately.

Crusher shook her head. "No. I was too ashamed of myself. If you'd realized who I was, well, things probably would have turned out differently. At the time, I just figured that if you didn't know it was me, there was no point in telling you. That there was no harm done." She paused. "Until I found out I was pregnant."

"Why didn't you say something then?" Picard asked, his voice harsh with suppressed emotion.

"I never told you because I never knew, not for sure, not until Katherine told me that Wesley had Ilar's Syndrome," Crusher snapped, whirling to face him. Her cheeks were flushed with a mixture of anger and shame. "As far as I was concerned-and I'm not excusing myself, because I know how foolishly I acted-Jack was the father. It was what I wanted to believe, and trust me," she added in a low voice, "it's not very difficult to delude yourself when you want to."

Picard rose from his chair angrily. "I still cannot believe you never confirmed the identity of Wesley's father," he ground out. "Don't you think I had a right to know that I had a son?"

Crusher shook her head slowly, deliberately. "No," she replied. He blinked in surprise at the passionate implacability in her voice. "As far as I was concerned, Jack was Wesley's father, and not just in a genetic sense. He was the one I wanted to raise Wes. I knew that he would be a father, whereas you would always be a Starfleet Officer, first and foremost. As you've proven, more than once," she added coolly. "Can you honestly say you have any problems with the way I've raised him? With the way he's turned out? Occasional lapses notwithstanding," she added bitterly as she glanced out at the neatly manicured lawns of the Academy.

Picard shook his head wryly, half in response to her questions and half at himself. His anger was somewhat diffused by her honesty, however wounding it might be. Beverly was once again proving that she knew him all too well. "I'm still not convinced by your reasoning," he said, concentrating on the subject at hand. The very touchy subject at hand.

"I could very easily fall in love with you, Jean-Luc," Crusher replied unexpectedly, not caring how he reacted. She had held all these feelings and suspicions and fears inside her for so long; now that she was finally able to confront them, she found it impossible to keep them dammed up a minute longer. "Did you know that? In fact, I was damned close to falling in love with you before I married Jack. But your ship comes first in your life; you have always made that quite clear, even then. You were always so single-minded that I knew I never had a chance." She laughed abruptly, a semi-hysterical sound she cut off almost as it left her throat. "I had no idea how you felt about me; you were always so formal!"

"You were Jack's fiancé, and then Jack's wife," Picard replied simply. "My feelings toward you were...irrelevant."

Crusher nodded her understanding, the hysteria in her eyes subsiding slightly as she caught the wistfulness in his voice he tried unsuccessfully to repress. "So were mine, but they still existed," she replied with an equal note of wistfulness. "When the opportunity arose to act on those feelings, and to act in such a way that I believed there would be no repercussions, I took it. Yes, it was wrong, and yes, I regret that I could have been so incredibly selfish, but no, I don't regret the fact that Jack was Wesley's father, even if he wasn't." She stopped in confusion, not certain if Picard caught the meaning behind that incoherent statement. "Even though Jack went off into space with you, his heart was home, with us," she continued in a quieter tone. "With me and Wesley. If I asked him to take a planetside posting, he would have done it. Even if it broke his heart, he would have done it, and I never would have heard a word of complaint. Would you have been able to do that? Would you have been willing to?"

"That is an impossible question to answer, since I was never granted the opportunity to make such a decision," Picard replied, his voice as soft as hers. "My only response can be, I don't know." He walked forward, one step, then two, until he was standing directly in front of her. "That, however, is a question for the past. What do we do about it now?"

Crusher was the first to drop her eyes as she stepped away and resumed her nervous pacing around the edge of the room. "Katherine recommended family counseling, and I think it's a good idea," she replied, apparently to the potted plant she'd stopped in front of. "I don't know how you feel about continuing to serve on the same ship with me, but if we do, then I have the feeling we'll be spending a lot of time with Deanna Troi."

Picard shrugged in a non-committal manner. "We'll deal with that when we've both had time to calm down," he said. "But the question still remains: what do we do now?"

"I think the first thing we should do is tell Wesley," Crusher replied firmly. "There's no sense in putting it off any longer." She glanced over her shoulder at Picard, her eyes meeting his steadily for the first time that day. They acknowledged that this conversation was far from over.

Picard nodded. "Agreed," he said firmly, squaring his shoulders as if going into battle.

Which, Crusher realized, was not an inappropriate way of putting it. Wesley was not going to be happy.

"I don't believe you," Wesley said flatly, turning to face the window.

His mother glanced helplessly at Picard, who was still standing by the door, then straightened her shoulders and walked over to stand behind her son. She put one hand on his shoulder and tugged him around to face her. He continued to look stubbornly down at the floor until she placed a hand under his chin and gently but firmly forced his head up. Slowly, reluctantly, he brought his eyes to meet hers. "Wes, I'm sorry you had to find out this way, but it's the truth. So you'd better start dealing with it." Her own eyes were haunted as she added: "I think there's been too much denial already."

Wesley's eyes flashed over to meet Picard's resentfully. He shrugged his shoulder out of his mother's grasp, but didn't turn away again. She could see the struggle in his eyes; he was torn between the knowledge that his mother wouldn't lie to him about a thing like this and the need to deny its truth. To deny so much as the possibility of its truth.

In the end, it was a truth that would not be denied. His shoulders sagged and his eyes closed as he accepted it. "How?" he asked after a long, silent moment.

Crusher placed her hand on his shoulder again, pulling it away almost immediately in her own uncertainty. "Wes, why don't we all sit down and talk about it," she said quietly, suiting action to word by moving over to the small table that had been set up in his hospital room. Picard joined her there and, after another long moment, so did Wesley.

It wasn't going to be easy for any of them, but Crusher had confidence in both Jean-Luc and Wesley's ability to come to terms with the situation. She was a little less certain about how they would come to terms with her duplicity, but hoped that the counselor she'd spoken to that morning was right: that it was just a matter of taking things one step at a time.

It would be a long and difficult journey, but not an impossible one. Keeping that thought firmly in mind, she began to speak. "I know you're wondering how this happened-"

"You're damn right I am!" Wesley exploded. "I mean, this isn't exactly what I expected when you two walked into the room. I'm sick because I have some disease I never heard of, one that you can only get from your father's side of the family, and you're telling me that it's because Dad wasn't my father, Captain Picard is? I'm wondering a lot of things right now, Mom, and that's definitely number one on the list."

Picard half-rose at Wesley's words, looking as if he wanted to say something-about not speaking to his mother like that, Beverly supposed, or not speaking to superior officers in such a tone. But this was a personal matter, not a Starfleet matter, and the warning glance she shot him was enough to remind him of that. His mouth tightened slightly in response to her look, and he lowered himself back from the edge of his seat as the doctor turned to face her son.

Before she could speak, Wesley turned his glare back to her. "How long has he known?" he spat out, jerking a shoulder in Picard's direction.

The captain stiffened but didn't say anything. Nor did he have any intention of saying anything; the only reason he was here at all was because he refused to make Beverly to do this on her own. No matter that he still felt the sting of betrayal against her for holding such a secret from not only himself but from Jack; it was still something they both had to take responsibility for. He wasn't going to hide behind the fact of his ignorance to excuse himself from what he knew was going to be a very painful experience for all of them. However, now wasn't the time for him to say anything to Wesley; how Beverly chose to tell her son and exactly what she chose to tell him would be completely up to her. Picard hadn't been sure how she would react to his insistence on being there when she told Wesley, but the look of gratitude she'd flashed him had been more than enough to tell him he'd done the right thing.

"It's not a pretty story, Wesley, and I understand your anger. In fact," Crusher continued, "I expect you to become a lot angrier with me before this is all over. But I want you to understand one thing." She leaned forward slightly and tapped on the edge of the table with one finger. "Captain Picard did not know until I told him this morning."

Wesley nodded and tucked his hands under his armpits in a highly defensive motion. "Okay, fine, he didn't know. Why not? How could he not know?"

"Because I took great pains to keep my identity from him that night," Crusher replied, enunciating each word carefully. Now was not the time for any misunderstandings. "And that, to answer your next question, was the first and only time we were...together." And probably the last time, she found herself thinking regretfully. If there had ever been any chance for the two of them, she'd blown it that night and every night afterwards, when she'd continued to keep her guilty secret to herself. She suspected that was why she never could bring herself to confess to Picard until she was forced to; if she never told him, then perhaps the two of them could form a relationship, could explore their feelings and see how far their friendship could go. Just another regret to add to the pile, she told herself. Another "might have been."

"Tell me about it." The words were flat, emotionless, but Crusher could see what an effort it was for her son to maintain his composure now. It seemed to help, that Picard had been as in the dark as he had, and that was the only thing Crusher felt glad about now.

She nodded and pressed her hands flat against the table in an effort to keep them from twisting nervously, a habit she though she'd lost long ago. Until today. "I thought your father was having an affair with my best friend, that he was planning on leaving me for her," she began. Some small part of her whispered, third time's the charm, while the rest of her concentrated on Wesley and his reaction to her story.

He wasn't happy. But then, she didn't really expect him to be. He might not ever be happy with her again, she realized as she finished. He hadn't interrupted, not once, and she'd half-expected him to. Once or twice his gaze had shifted toward the captain, but always his eyes had returned to her own, and she made it a point never to lower her gaze. It was an effort, especially when she told Wesley under what circumstances he was conceived, but she did it, and actually felt better for it.

There was, as expected, a long, awkward moment of silence while Wesley digested what he'd just been told. His first words were almost mundane: "Birth control?"

His mother nodded. "Yes, but I didn't realize that it was time to renew my contraceptive implant until it was too late."

There was a long silence after those words, and Crusher stole a look at Picard. He had been as silent as her son, but she could tell it wasn't any easier for him to hear it again than it had been the first time. But she was grateful to him for his presence. The counselor, Dr. Bell, had recommended that both of them be present when Beverly broke the news to Wesley, even if Picard said nothing. He felt that forcing Wesley to be in the same room with the captain would also keep him from being able to reject his mother's story, from denying the truth. Picard's physical presence would reinforce Crusher's words. It wouldn't make it any easier, the doctor had warned, but it would help keep all three on track. That and Picard's own willingness to support her had made the decision that much easier to make.

"So that's it." Wesley didn't look any happier than when she first started speaking, but that, unfortunately, was to be expected. "It was a misunderstanding. Just a stupid mistake."

Crusher nodded unhappily. "I'm not proud of what happened, Wes. And I don't expect forgiveness or even understanding, because, quite frankly, I don't think I've ever understood or forgiven myself. You should have been told the truth a long time ago-all of you. All I can say is that I am truly sorry."

Wesley shook his head. "No, I mean I was just a mistake."

Beverly felt her breath catch in her throat as she realized what her son was saying. "Oh no, Wesley, never that. I regret quite a lot about this whole situation, but I have never even once regretted you. Not then, and not now."

"Nor do I." Beverly and Wesley turned startled eyes upon Picard as he spoke. Even though he'd promised himself he wouldn't say anything, this question of Wesley's was far too important for him not to address it. He wasn't sure how the young man would interpret his words, how he would take them, but Picard knew he had to let Wesley know how he felt. "Wesley, I know I don't really have any right to say anything to you about this," Picard began. "But I must say at least one thing. No matter the circumstances of your birth or parentage, the young man that was conceived that night was one that any father would be proud of. Jack Crusher was your father in every way that counts, including the fact that your mother made a conscious decision to name him as your father, and I know he would have been just as proud of the way you turned out as your mother and I are. Maybe even more." He took a deep breath before finishing. "Your mother made some very painful decisions, and I'm not defending her actions, but I can understand her reasoning behind allowing us all to think that Jack was your biological father."

"I agree with everything Jean-Luc just said," Crusher stated, trying not to feel too hopeful at the fact the captain's words seemed to have diffused some of Wesley's anger; her son no longer looked quite as hurt and angry as he had when she first broke the news to him. "And I think he's absolutely right about the way your father would feel. Even under these circumstances," she felt compelled to add.

Another long silence fell until Picard rose to his feet, tugging on the bottom of his tunic from force of habit. "I think perhaps we should give Wesley a little time to assimilate what we've just told him." He allowed himself to look at the young man on the opposite side of the table, a young man looking particularly vulnerable at the moment. "Dr. Pulaski wants to begin the treatment right away, tomorrow if we can manage it. And I think Wesley-that is, we all need to rest."

Crusher nodded and came reluctantly to her feet. "I suppose you're right. Would you like-would it be all right if I stopped by in the morning, Wesley? Before Dr. Pulaski gets here?"

He nodded without looking up. "Sure. I'll be here."

Wesley could tell his mother wasn't sure if she could kiss him good-bye or not, so he stood up and leaned over to spare her the indecision. "I'll see you at breakfast," he said as he kissed her cheek. She flashed him a cautiously grateful look as she squeezed his shoulder and turned to leave, passing through the door Picard was holding open without looking back.

As soon as they were gone Wesley flung himself on his bed and took a deep, shuddering breath. It felt as if his entire world had spun out of orbit, and he didn't know where to begin to try and put things in perspective. Mom had seen the Academy shrink; maybe he should, too. Because there didn't seem to be any real way to put this situation in perspective, not without help. "Captain Picard is my father." He tried saying it out loud, but it still didn't feel real. "Wesley James Picard." Nope, that sounded even worse. "Whoever is out there messing up my life, I wish You'd stop," he said to the ceiling as he rolled onto his back, covering his eyes with his arms.

There was a knock at the door. Startled, Wesley came to his feet. "Come in."